A.N.: Hey guys! Clodagh here, back with another chapter! Things are heating up, ooher. There's only one more chapter after this, and then the epilogue! Sad times! Very few people read this, (that I know of) but I've had a blast writing this! I hope you guys have enjoyed it as much as I have!

Just a disclaimer- there's a line in Astonishing X-Men of Kitty's that I absolutely adore- well I love most of them- but this one fitted this scene so well and the story itself, so I had to include it. It's marked with an *, so I'm not claiming it as mine! Just so you know. :')

I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

P.S.- Listen to the song in the first part of the chapter if ya know what I mean ;)

I want you to know that I've got your back

Even when the whole foundation seems cracked

Two punk kids up against the world

Ya trouble, there goes trouble

We could be king and queen of the moonlight

Two young lovers

And when the moods right

You hear me say 'I want you'

-'Pull Me Down' Mikky Ekko

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Dealing with some of those parents are absolutely exhausting, I can't believe-Katya, what are you doing?" Peter asks, dropping his keys on his sideboard unit and chucking his bag underneath. It's at times like these you especially love having a boyfriend who is a newly qualified teacher- he feels like he has to dress the part, despite the fact this is where he grew up and currently lives. Despite it being August and the only teacher-y thing he'd had to do was meet with a few parents-most of the students had gone home, and the ones that couldn't were on a fieldtrip- Peter is wearing a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a satchel and- wait for it- a waistcoat.

Yeah. You're pretty happy with your life right now.

"Good! You're back," you say cheerily, feeling a nervous excitement wash over you.

"Yes," he replies slowly, "what have you done?"

You frown at him. "So I can only be cheerful when I've done something wrong?"

"Usually."

"Point taken. But no, I didn't do anything wrong, calm down," you roll your eyes.

"Right," he replies and strolls into the heart of the room. "So why are you dressed like that?"

You take a step back and tug innocently on the black dress you'd gotten earlier in the week. "This old thing?"

"Yeah," Peter replies, his eyes raking up your body to meet yours, "this old thing."

You walk towards him and push him back onto the end of the bed. "Sit," you command, and he gives you a cheeky grin.

"Yes ma'am," he answers. You step back and press a button on the slim remote you have in your hand. A song starts playing from speakers, and you feel yourself start to move to the beat of it slowly. Peter is watching you intently and you start to slip off your heels- when you can't.

This is not happening.

You nudge them to try and get them off, but it isn't working, the stupid strappy heels are caging your feet in them, and Peter is looking at you amusedly. "You alright there?" he asks and you glare at him.

"The shoes won't come off," you grit out before he laughs and tugs you by the hand to stand closer to him. Peter kneels and knocks your knees apart slightly, his hand supporting your calve as you automatically put your hands on his shoulders to support yourself. He makes swift work of the buckles on your shoes, moving from one leg to another gently, and you feel your breath hitch slightly, and his smirk against the top of your thigh. Your feet firmly on solid ground he quirks a brow up at you. "Better?" he asks, and you swallow.

"That is possibly the sexiest thing anyone has ever done for me," you blurt out and he grins at that. Coming round again, you shoo him back onto the bed and step away again, picking up where the tempo left off. You reach back and take out the bobble holding your hair up, shaking your hair out so it falls around your shoulders.

Peter is watching you closely, knowing what's happening- a strange version of a striptease, you can't help but think- but is confused as to where this is going. You take a few well timed steps back- thank God for your dance lessons- and immediately stroll forward, phasing out of your dress, leaving it in a pool on the floor. Peter's eyes widen and you can't help but smirk in victory- you've been practicing doing this for about a month, wanting to get the timing just right.

With no one else in the Mansion, it seemed right.

Peter's eyes rake over your body, taking in the white lacy slip you're wearing. You tilt your head to the side, eyebrows raised.

"You know," Peter says slowly, "my day just got a whole lot better."

You grin at him, "I thought so."

"But I'm confused, I thought we were waiting," he says carefully, and you shrug. The waiting was Peter's idea- not that he didn't want to, he wanted to be sure that you wanted this. That you wanted him. That the age-gap wasn't too much, that this wouldn't make your friendship weird, that you were ready. It's not your first time- that boat sailed with a short-term boyfriend in your first year- but it's sweet that Peter is so concerned about your first time together.

"We were," you reply, "but what were we waiting for? Everything is so fragile. "Everything is so fragile. There is so much conflict, so much pain. You keep waiting for the dust to settle," you shrug, "and then you realise- this is it; the dust is your life going on. So if happy comes along- that weird, unbearable delight that's actual happy," you laugh and stroke his face and he smiles softly, "I think you have to grab it while you can. You take what you can get, because it's here, and then….gone."*

Peter is quiet for a moment before placing his hand over yours. "That…makes sense," he says earnestly, and it does. With everything that happens to you as X-Men, happiness is such a fleeting and fragile thing. There's little point in waiting for it, or waiting for the right time or the perfect moment- it's the here and now. "Someone's feeling philosophical," he comments, and you give a half shrug. "I've had some time to think. No assignments, and all that."

"Clearly," he replies, and flicks his eyes down your body. "So this is a new trick," he says casually and you tug at the edge of your slip, his hand following suit.

"Yeah, it's pretty easy once you get the hang of it," you comment and give him a sly smile. "You like it?"

Peter swallows and nods. "Yeah, I do. You know," he concedes, "I'm still kind of confused,"

You take a step back and phase out of the slip, leaving you in just your underwear. Your boyfriend's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "But I'm no longer tired."

(It turned out you didn't need to use your powers to get out of your underwear- Peter made short work of that.)

X.x.X

Rogue dresses you up, fixes you up, and makes you into someone you're not. Someone brave, someone mature, someone sexy. Your waves are sleek, your lips are red and the black dress Rogue all but shoved you into is classic, but fits you like a glove. After a moment's hesitation you grab a necklace from the dresser- it doesn't overly match your outfit, but you couldn't leave it behind. She fixes your hair and shoos you to where she knows Peter will be- outside the southeast corner by the treeline, sketching the school. How she knows this you're not sure, but Rogue seems to know everything and right now you're in desperate need of someone sure of themselves.

She gives your hand a final squeeze- no gloves, you don't think you'll ever be over it- before she heads off to talk public relations with Hank. Taking a deep breath, you stride over to him. Peter is examining the school, his hand moving swiftly across his sketchbook. The sight is familiar- Peter was never without ink stains on his hands, they could create as much as they could destroy- but it doesn't set you at ease. Clearly the sight of you doesn't do much for him either, as he barely looks at you as you approach. He then looks at you impassively before snapping his sketchbook shut and standing.

You hurry towards him in these stupid wedges- why were such impractical shoes ever invented- and manage to block him off. "Please wait."

"I have somewhere to be."

"Just- just hold on one second," you protest, struggling to keep up with him.

"I need to be somewhere," he grits out and you halt.

"Where? Hating- Katherine-Pryde-land? Because that's great and all, but can that happen beside me for just a minute?"

Peter doesn't answer you, nor does he stop. As he strides away from you, you make a last ditch attempt. "Question twenty three!" you yell, and that stops him. "Yeah, that's right, you heard me. I have a question, you have to answer it." His pause gives you time to close the gap slightly to ask.

"Can you love me?"

Peter comes to a complete stand still. "What?" he asks tightly.

You clear your throat, gather your courage and repeat the question. "Can you love me?"

You explain yourself, knowing if you don't he'll leave and you'll lose him forever. "I know- I know I'm not her. I'm not Katya. Honestly, I'm not sure I ever will be, or can be." You steel yourself determinedly. "But I swear to you I'm going to try and make it here. This is my life now. My friends are here, my family is here, and my home is here. I'm a teacher. I got what I always wanted. And for so long it wasn't enough. It wasn't what I'd had, it wasn't good enough. And I'm so sorry for the way I've used and treated you, it wasn't fair and it wasn't right, no matter how I felt about you or how you felt about me. I do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, act the wrong way and I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve a chance, but I want to let you know- I'm here and I'm fighting to stay. You mean a lot to me, but I- I need to know if you have it in you to love me. Someday. This me, this selfish and uncontrollable me. I'll fight- I'll fight for you. But only if you want me too."

Peter whirls on you. "Is this you?" he gestures to your outfit.

"I-" you stammer and he cuts you off.

"No, tell me. Is this the new you? The high shoes and the big hair and the tight dress?"

You look down self-consciously, slipping out of the shoes and feeling the grass between your toes. "Don't you like it?" you ask quietly, and he rolls his eyes frustrated.

"Of course I like it, I have eyes."

You shake your head, confused. "Then what-"

"The fact that you feel I need this to love you and be attracted to you is ridiculously and quite frankly insulting, Kitty. I don't need the big hair and the makeup and the dress if you don't. I'd love you just as much in a jeans or a bin bag. I don't need any of those things, Kitty," he exclaims. "I need you. I should hate you. I should. You took her away from me. But I can't find it in me, because you're just as much a victim here as I am. So," he finishes finally, gathering his art supplies. "To answer your question. Yes. Yes I could love you," he admits, and looks you in the eyes. "But I can't trust you."