[It All Started With Duck Pajamas...]
John watched her, well, more like glared at her, as he sat at his new acquired detention desk. She glared back, her eyes slightly narrowed with a passionate hate fueling them. He had to admit, if he actually liked her, the glare probably would have hurt. 'Oomph' was the word that came to mind when he thought about her glare.
She sat across from him on her desk, legs crossed to be ladylike. Her hair was down and her glasses were on because she lost one of her contacts in their little fight on the lunch table, and if he was going to say anything perverted, he was going to say it only to himself.
Sexy Librarian. That was as far as he was letting his mind go right now considering the circumstances. Sex should be the last thing on his mind, honestly, especially when said sexual fantasy involved the girl who was glaring at him with a hate fueled by an energy only comparable to two billion super-novas.
"I hate you," she suddenly announced, glare intensifying while he roughly shoved sexual thoughts from his mind. Despite this, John smirked. He could easily see her making younger boys cry. It was funny, really, because she'd been so sweet when he left, not that he'd known her that well. But it didn't take a genius to figure out that something had happened that summer that made the wildcat in good little Kitty come out to play.
"I love you, too, Kitten," he said, cracking an angry sort of smile because his mind was not stopping with the onslaught of really unhelpful but really hot images involving Kitty, glasses, and a desk.
They'd been glaring at each other for more than an hour, and it was impressive, she admitted, that John could actually hold his ground this long, and without saying anything perverted. After all, he was, if she was going to think like Jubilee, a good-for-nothing, backstabbing, betraying, cowardly, perverse asshole. Then again, before two days ago, Kitty didn't really have an opinion on John Allerdyce.
But she was forming one oh-so fast, and it was not a good opinion whatsoever.
Within the past forty-eight hours, John had managed an attempt to steal her underwear and show it to the entire male population of the school, and make her shirt see-through whilst she was teaching and then he had the freaking nerve to compliment her about said see-through shirt and then she had tackled him to the floor below and then all the male teachers had seen her see-through shirt and so she clawed at him from the inside out and now they were in detention, sitting here and glaring at each other with absolutely nothing better to do.
She was getting him back, oh yes she was, and her revenge was never the pretty kind.
Four more hours of detention passed before he fell asleep. She had stopped staring at him about three hours ago, and now was her chance at revenge. She padded over to him, in phasing form to not making noise, and stuck her hand in his leg, phasing through the flesh and bone. She cringed. She would never really get used to the feeling of phasing through people. It felt so... personal, in this really odd sort of sense. She receded her hand and grabbed onto what she'd been looking for: his lighter. She phased it through the fabric of his jeans and smirked, sticking it in her back pocket. Then, she walked over to the door and stuck her head out, looking both ways. It was all clear. She phased through the door and then bolted up the stairs as silently as she could, phasing through a few un-expecting students' rooms before she reached her own.
Rogue was sleeping, mumbling in her pretty Southern drawl in her sleep about Logan wanting to gut the man who'd stolen the girl's heart. Kitty gave a small smile. Sounded like something Logan would want to do. Logan might have been a loner, to some degree, because he was always coming and going and never really staying put at Xavier's for more than a couple of weeks at a time, but he was loved at the school. A teacher when he was around, and a father figure to all the youngsters who knew him. Kitty's face suddenly hardened, a small smile replaced by a wicked glare at the wall. He was probably the only trustworthy fatherly figure she had in her life anymore. Her real father had distanced himself once her mutation had developed some years ago in her pre-teen years, and she was never really home much after that; Xavier's became her new home, the one she knew and loved. But her father had been her father nonetheless, the man who'd raised her and the man who claimed to love her with all of his heart.
He had claimed. He had promised. He had lied.
Kitty fought back the tears coming to her eyes and sat down on her bed, taking John's lighter out from her pants' pocket before she flicked it open, watching the steadily burning flame. She knew how much he loved this lighter. He'd spaz once he figured out that she'd taken it. He'd probably burn the whole school down just looking for it. Kitty studied it. It was a nice one, not the cheap plastic ones you buy in packs of four when you're in line at the gas station. Metallic silver base coat with black, red, and white to make it look like a shark's mouth. She narrowed her eyes at it. For some reason, the whole shark concept didn't seem very much like John at all. Then again, she didn't know him that well, and then again still, on the other hand, the shark concept did sort of suit him, in a very odd sort of way. He attacked at what seemed to be random, but what was obviously planned out in his head before hand. He was sneaky, calculating, and didn't go for a quick kill, but rather for a quick hit to injure the target before actually destroying it.
Kitty shook her head and laughed at herself. Had she seriously just laid on her bed for a full ten minutes, now that she knew what time it was by looking at her alarm clock, and compared John to the animal on his lighter?
Yes. Yes, she had. Oh Lord, she needed a therapist.
"KITTEN!" a voice roared from down the hallway. Rogue bolted awake and looked around wildly, taking off her gloves as she got ready to defend her castle, which, in reality, was a dorm room. Kitty looked at the lighter again and smirked, stuffing it down the front of her shirt and into her bra where he wouldn't notice it. Hopefully. She chose the wrong day to borrow Jubilee's shirt. They were always pretty low-cut.
Rogue gaped at her. "Oh mah Gawd, you did not take John's lighta!"
"I did," Kitty said without a hint of remorse, shame, or dissatisfaction whatsoever. Rogue shook her head as she tugged on her combat boots.
"Stupid, stupid girl. And now Ah'm gonna havta kick his ass to the River and back just to save ya pretty lil ass," Rogue moaned, shaking her head as Kitty mused upon the fact that Rogue's accent was worst when she just woke up to a bad situation. Someone started to pound on their door, and it didn't take a genius to know who it was.
"KITTEN! I'm going to absofuckinglutely murder you!" he hollered, fists pounding on the doors. Kitty opened the door and John stumbled in, having not expected her to even have the guts to answer the door.
"Go for it, asshole, I'd like to see you try," she challenged, glaring up at his looming lean and muscular build, arms crossed just under her chest as she gave him a glare colder than Chicago with the wind chill factor in January. He glared back for a moment, obviously absolutely raging and wanting nothing more than to strangle her pretty, pale neck, but then his gaze dropped lower, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
"Why the fuck is my lighter in your shirt?" he demanded, and Kitty looked down. Sure enough, she hadn't hid it well enough. She could see it peaking out from the hot pink lace of her bra and the black and white striped cotton-blend of the shirt, which had shifted when she practically threw the door open to challenge him to a death match that was now, as if it would have before, going to end in absolute catastrophe.
Kitty thought up something quick. Thank God she was good at thinking on her feet. "Because I knew it was the one place you wouldn't have the guts to go at."
"Really, Kitten?" John smirked, leaning down over her so he could smirk in her face in such a smug way that she wanted nothing more than to just reach her hand into body through his rock hard abs, grab his intestines, and rip them out.
"Really," she said, getting up in his face, too, standing on her toes to become taller. He smirked.
"Really?" His breath smelled like cinnamon gum. His shirt smelled like lighter fluid. His face smelled like aftershave.
"Really." Her breath smelled like sugar. Her shirt smelled like flowers, but with something sharp and thorny, too. Her face smelled like some kind of expensive make-up.
Rogue just stood there, dazed at what was happening right before her eyes.
John swooped in, without even giving her a chance to blink, his lips planted on hers in half a second. Thrown off completely, Kitty did nothing but stare wide-eyed at the spot he'd missed shaving that morning, by his jawline. He licked her lips, but her mouth was already open in a state of shock, so he went right on in like he had every right to, tongue skating over the roof of her mouth in a way that made her shiver and his ego boost to the moon. She was kissing back, he noted, though whether she realized it or not he didn't know. His hand skimmed up her stomach, danced over the flesh of her chest and, with a twist of his fingers, dislodged his lighter from her bra. He pulled away as soon as the job was done, only stopping slightly to nip her bottom lip with a possessive kind of nature that had both of them confused as he faced her again and smirked.
"Kitten, you can come back to earth now," he said smugly. She came out of her shock that second, glared at him, her fists balled up at her sides. Rogue, who was also just coming out of shock, was ready to launch into attack at any given second, but Kitty, bless her petite heart, beat her to it.
BAM.
"Mother-fucker!" John swore, holding his jaw where Kitty's fist had snapped his head to the right with the force of her (impressive) left hook.
"Get. Out." She was seething, eyes burning with hate as she stormed towards him, hips swaying in absolute rage.
As he all but skipped from the room, his ego bigger than the solar system as he pretty much ran from the seething girl close on his tail, he had to admit it.
He'd never seen anything sexier than Kitty when she was mad.
