Playing with Fire

I've been trying to put this up for 2 days now, hopefully this time it'll actually work.

This update is the last of the pre-written story that's been on ff.net for a while now. Updates will be even slower b/c they won't just be dependant on me getting off my lazy butt and reformatting for this site. I've got about half of the next chapter finished and I *hope* things will start moving faster again after that. Don't know why, but the last 3-4 chapters have been a real struggle for me. Damn muse must've gone on vacation - if you see her, send her back this way, hm?

Oh, still not mine, except in my dreams - or nightmares as casecase may be.


MOVING ON


Kurt drifted awake in a warm haze of contentment. Cracking one bleary golden eye, he took in the dim light of late afternoon filtering in through the closed french doors to his balcony. He suffered a brief moment of disorientation as he wondered just why he should feel so tranquil - he was stark naked, on the floor, in an empty room - and then his brain lurched into gear and he let his eyes drift briefly shut again at a pleasant flood of memory.

He had, however, wakened for a reason, and the waning light served to confirm what both his stomach and his internal clock were telling him - it was fast approaching dinner time. He stretched slightly, not really shifting position, just easing a few kinks and giving his cramped tail a little more freedom of movement. He really wasn't eager to move, although he knew he'd have to soon - between his full bladder and his empty stomach he wasn't going to have much choice. For the moment, however, it felt wonderful to just lie there, relaxed and rested for the first time in what felt like forever, with no nightmare images lurking in the dark corners of his mind, waiting to spring on him the moment he let his guard down. He wasn't going to delude himself into believing that he was done touring his own little corner of hell, but he sure wasn't going to turn his nose up at a reprieve, however short lived it might turn out to be. Besides, there would certainly be more than enough time later to beat himself up over all the ways he'd screwed up in the last week in general and the last twenty four hours in particular. For now, he was going to indulge in a last few peaceful minutes before dragging himself bodily out of the hole he'd been hiding in all week and heading down to join his 'family' for dinner.

Kitty mopped the last of the sweat off of her face and neck and then dropped the small towel she'd been using on top of a growing pile in the corner of her room. After scrounging through her duffel in search of a change of clothes she grabbed a small floral print bag and headed out the door and down the hall to one of the girls' bathrooms. Rogue and Jean were, as usual, showering and changing in the locker room just across from the Danger Room. Kitty almost always came back upstairs though. Even after all this time, she couldn't get past her self-conscious discomfort at the idea of being naked in front of others, even her closest friends.
_You didn't have any trouble being naked in front of Kurt last night or this morning_, her subconscious reminded her rather snidely. Really, though, that wasn't entirely true. She had been fine so long as he wasn't actually *looking* at her. She felt her skin heat as she remembered the way he had _looked_ at her this morning, his eyes burning as he'd refused to allow hercovecover herself. _You are beautiful, Kaetzchen_, he'd whispered, and she'd known he meant it. With a start she realized that she was standing motionless in the hall, towel and bag clutched tightly to her chest, blushing scarlet and beginning to hyperventilate. She practically jumped back into motion and didn't pause until she had flung herself into the safety of the bathroom and locked the door behind her, thankful that no one had come along to ask her any awkward questions.
Moments later she had adjusted the water temperature to something just short of scalding, laid out her shower supplies and skinned out of her sweat soaked uniform and under garments. With a sigh of relief she stepped under the soothing spray. Leaning her forehead against the tiled wall, she relaxed as the water washed away some of her aches and tensions along with the sweat and grime of her exertions in the Danger Room.

Now *that* had been an unmitigated disaster. Every time she had caught Rogue or Mr. Logan looking at her, or even thought she had, she'd lost her concentration. It had gotten so bad that even normally cool, collected Scott had lost patience with her distraction and clumsiness. She was sure he'd been on the verge of ordering her out at one point, before Jean had stepped in to calm him down. For her part, the telepath had started giving her speculative looks about half way through the session, to the point where Kitty was really starting to hope hard that the older girl was as committed to the 'telepathic code of ethics' the Professor espoused as she professed to be. Poor Evan, on the other hand, had just looked plain confused - after the third time she'd phased through a projectile right in front of him, leaving the object in question to nail him, he'd refused to be paired with her "until she gets her shit together," as he bluntly put it. Kitty sighed in frustration. She couldn't really blame him; that last drone to the face had to have hurt.

She couldn't even really say why she'd been so nervous. It wasn't as though she was _ashamed_ of what she'd done with Kurt, because, amazingly, she wasn't. It was just that, really, it wasn't any one else's business. Especially not now, when they hadn't even had a chance to really talk, to figure out what this meant for them or where they would go from here. It was bad enough that Rogue and Mr. Logan knew. She really didn't think anyone else had any valid interest in her sex life (not that the two of them did either, for that matter) and she didn't particularly feel like becoming the most recent victim of the infamous Institute gossip mill. She could just imagine what Bobby or Tabby would do with the information. Besides, she had no illusions as to the Professor or Ms. Munroe's reaction if they found out. They wouldn'tnearnearly so laid back as Mr. Logan had been, that's for sure. It would probably involve lectures at best and something along the lines of room-mates, chaperones, and maybe even chastity belts at worst. She shuddered at the thought and reached for her soap, realizing as she did that, while she had let her mind wander, her hands and feet had become wizened and prunish. Grabbing her soap she began to rapidly scrub herself clean.

She tried to not think about what kind of fallout there might be if the Professor found out about their...relationship. Getting the third degree from Rogue this afternoon had been bad enough. She didn't need the whole damn 'family' hounding her and Kurt - among other things, if anyone else found out they'd probably never get a chance to be alone again. At least Rogue hadn't wanted details, she thought with a sigh. In fact, the older girl had threatened her with everything short of death or dismemberment if she so much as _thought_ about anything even remotely explicit in her presence. She had explained in no uncertain terms that she didn't want to know "that kind of shit" about her "little brother." Kitty had actually laughed at that statement, earning herself a scathing glare from her ex-roommate. It turned out that Rogue had primarily wanted to confirm her suspicion that Kitty and Kurt had not only worked out their differences, but spent the night together as well - and to make sure that if they _had_ engaged in any...activities...that they had used suitable protection. For someone who went to such lengths to preserve her cynical loner image, the older girl certainly had the 'big sister' routine down pat - just so long as you kept in mind that it was the surly version.

Rogue had also warned her to come up with a better alibi than 'sleeping in' if she was planning any similar exploits in the future, since if anyone else had bothered to check her room before lunch she would have been blown completely out of the water. "And ya might try messin' up yer covers so it at least _looks_ like ya slept there Kit." Apparently when Rogue had stuck her head into Kitty's room to collect her for breakfast, the neatly folded blankets still sitting in a pile on the floor had been a dead give-away. Fortunately for Kurt and Kitty, she had put two and two together and promptly decided to keep her mouth shut.

Kitty finished rinsing the last of the shampoo from her hair and turned off the water before stepping out and wrapping herself in her towel. _My God, I can't believe how stupid I was and how lucky we were!_ she thought in amazement. It was probably nothing short of a miracle that no one had walked in on them at any point during the morning - although that miracle generally went by the name of Mr. Logan. She absently finished drying herself off and then tossed her towel in the hamper in the corner before slipping into the clothes she'd brought with her, grabbing her bag, and heading back down the hall to her room, still thinking.

As a parting shot on their way to the Danger Room, Rogue had smirked as she'd told her, "ah knew you two were gonna figure it out and get it on eventually. But ya know, it might not've hurt if you'd got him to dump his _old_ girlfriend _before_ you slept with him." Kitty had felt as though her ears were going to spontaneously combust, she'd been so embarrassed. She had completely forgotten about Amanda. She'd been too caught up in her own little angst-fest to give Kurt's ostensible girlfriend so much as a moment's thought. In her defense, though, Kurt didn't seem to have wasted any time worrying about her either. Her stomach did a slow turn now as she considered the very real possibility that the other girl had been the one to teach Kurt some of the more...interesting...things he'd done with her - to her - earlier and, for some reason she couldn't quite explain, she desperately hoped not.

Thinking about it, there were so many things that she simply didn't know about Kurt, and quite honestly, some of them were beginning to make her more than a little concerned for him. He knew almost everything there was to know about her, and yet, how,how, she knew so little about him. He did a real good impression of being totally open, and yet still managed to give almost nothing away beyond the absolute basics. Why was he so upset when she touched his tail - or even came close? She was sure that he'd been turned on, _really_ turned on, when she'd done it unwittingly last week. At the time she had thought that _that_ had been the problem and she hadn't really given it any further thought, other than to beat herself up over throwing herself at him. Last night, though, that shouldn't have been a concern and yet he'd been angry, really angry, when she'd made as if to touch it again. He'd covered the fact quickly, but not fast enough to keep her from seeing it in his eyes and hearing it in his voice. Really, though, she was almost as worried by the simple fact that he had been plastered last night. Where and when had that happened, and why? And just how had he become so...experienced? _Please let it not be with Amanda_, she thought again, irrationally. She'd almost mentioned her concerns to Rogue this afternoon, but it had felt like too much of a betrayal, going behind his back, even if it was for help. She somehow didn't think he'd appreciate anyone, even Rogue, knowing about the whole tail thing.

He knew everything about her, from her childhood fears to her first kiss and her first crush. Her favorite pet to the details of her break-up with Lance, and now her concerns over her family. He, on the other hand, could talk a blue streak about anything and everything while never giving up an iota of truly personal information. He had opinions on movies, music, the current political climate at home and abroad, even about how she should do her hair or what color she should paint her nails. His past, however, beyond the minimal basics of farm and circus life, was a closed book.

Kitty remembered cajoling him into joining everyone for a game of truth or dare once, not long before the Sentinel incident had turned their world inside out and up dow down. She had been convinced that Kurt, with his combined love for practical jokes and embarrassing his team-mates, would have been one of the most enthusiastic participants. Instead, getting him to play at all had been painfully reminiscent of pulling teeth - though that was better than Scott, who had flat out refused to join the game. In the end, she knew Kurt had only grudgingly consented to play, and only as a personal concession to her and her desire to engage in a 'team building experience'. It had seemed, to her and Jubilee at least, like a perfect way for new and old mutants to get to know each other better.

Kurt never had gotten into the spirit of the evening though. Any question of an even remotely personal nature was simply avoided by taking a dare. Finally, in exasperation at Kurt's stubborn refusal to even reveal the name of the first girl he'd ever kissed, Evan had dared him to kiss Mr. Logan. Kitty had jumped to his defense, pointing out that they had all agreed that no potentially life-threatening dares were allowed (as well as no truly risque ones in deference to Jamie's presence). She'd promptly been shouted down by a room-full of bored teen-agers eager to see at least a _little_ blood shed. Kurt had simply sat through the uproar and then, when it quieted down, raised one eyebrow at Evan, smirked and left the room. He had been closely trailed by everyone else. As Sam had put it, "someone needs ta be there ta mop up the blood, eh?"

None of them had been brave enough to follow him past the corner at the end of the hall from Mr. Logan's room, though. Instead, they had jockeyed for position and peered round the corner in nervous excitement as Kurt had stepped up to the door and knocked once. The only sign that he might have been nervous had been the way his tail had lashed in agitation, cutting the air like a whip as he waited.

When Mr. Logan had come to the door everyone had held their breath, trying vainly to hear as Kurt spoke quietly to the older man. They had waited for the explosion as Logan's expression had gone from simple irritation to angry surprise to something entirely unreadable. Finally he had crossed his arms over his chest and leaned out to glare down the hall and snarl menacingly at them and they had all tried to scramble out of sight around the corner as quickly as possible. Not even Rahne had been able to hear what he'd said over the babble everyone was making - the most notable comments being "shit, he's gonna kill the fuzzball," followed closely by, "no shit man, but he's gonna gut us next." However, when no explosion was immediately forthcoming they had all poked their heads cautiously back around the corner. Just in time to see Mr. Logan staring disgustedly at the ceiling as Kurt leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his bristly cheek.

Kurt had spat and then wiped his lips melodramatically on his sleeve, earning a staggering smack in the chest from the older man for his performance. The furry blue teen had then looked down the hall and burst into laughter at the assorted looks of disbelief and amazement plastered over the other kids' faces. After a moment Mr. Logan had joined him - and if that hadn't been weird, Kitty didn't know what was. The two had exchanged a few more quiet words and then Kurt had turned and trotted back down the hall. To Kitty's (and everyone else's) surprise, he sim simply informed them that he was done with truth ore - e - for the night and forever - and attempted to slip off to his room with no further comment.

"Hey, wait a minute Fuzzball," Bobby had called after him. "What did short, dark and hairy say to you?"

Kurt had turned and regarded the younger boy seriously for a long moment before breaking into one of his trade-mark grins. "_Herr_ Logan said that the next time you 'children' feel like daring someone to kiss him, it had better be one of the girls," and his gaze had passed over each of them in turn, his smile growing progressively wider. "And, it had better involve some tongue."

He'd broken down in laughter again at the shocked and outraged looks on all their faces before adding, almost as an after thought, "oh, but Bobby, he said he might make an exception in your case." The younger boy had gone wide-eyed. "He's not usually into guys, but you _are_ kind of pretty." Bobby had looked as though he might sick up on the spot as _everyone_ had exploded with laughter then. Kurt simply 'bamfed' away, leaving the rest of them in the hall, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes, until they noticed Mr. Logan still standing at his door glaring at them and scurried away.

Needless to say, that had been the end of that particular game, as well as the last time any of had had bothered to play truth or dare. The general consensus had been that it was much safer to stick to board games in future - even if it did get irritating having Kurt or Jean routinely whip their butts at everything from Trivial Pursuit to Scrabble. Ray's take on the situation was that it was just plain humiliating to lose a word game to someone who spoke English as a second language and, honestly, sometimes Kitty was inclined to agree.

Kitty smiled at the memory before abruptly realizing that, at some point, she had actually made it back to her room and was standing staring blankly out the window. _Damn, I have got to get over this daydreaming nonsense_, she told herself with a shake to clear her head. _I wonder, is this what being in love does to you? I don't think I was ever this ditzy over Lance._

She dropped her bathroom supplies in the corner by her duffel, thinking longingly of the furniture which was scheduled to arrive Monday, as well as wishing, for neither the first time nor the last, that she had her own bathroom. Amara and Bobby had tried to convince the Professor to give every room a private bath during the rebuilding, but all of their arguments had been met with polite explanations of budgets and available space. They had then protested the unfairness that gave Scott, Jean and Kurt en suites, while all the other students had to share communal bathrooms. That had led to more polite explanations regarding seniority and the fact that those three had been given their rooms before the Professor had foreseen the necessity of housing quite so many young mutants in his home. As the house had been rebuilt almost entirely to the original plan - with only the addition of boys' and girls' bathrooms on each floor - he had elected to return everyone to their original rooms. In the end they had wasted a lot of time arguing and nothing had changed.

Privately, Kitty was of the opinion that there had originally been more behind the room assignments than the Professor ever revealed to anyone. She was pretty sure that no one was going to tell her what the real reasons were, though. She was equally certain that it had something to do with the fact that, before the mansion's destruction, those three rooms, plus Mr. Logan's, had been the only fully sound-proofed bedrooms in the entire place.

She checked her watch: 6:00, confirming her suspicion that dinner should be arriving soon. Tonight was Chinese take-out, to be picked up by Sam, since no one in town would deliver to "that mutie place" now that they were known. She should still have at least half an hour before it arrived, though, and a good fifteen minutes beyond that before it was pillaged beyond aeasoeasonable possibility of making a meal out of what was left.

With one last sigh for her bare room, she trotted out the door and headed for the boys' hall. She knew she was rationalizing when she told herself that she just wanted to check and see if Kurt was okay, if he was coming down for dinner or wanted something brought up, but she didn't really care. Besides, she really _should_ tell him that Rogue and Mr. Logan were privy to their secret before one of them blind-sided him with the information. _Yep, just gonna check on him and give him an update_, she told herself cheerfully as she positively bounced down the hall, a giant grin plastered on her unusually flushed face.

Kurt stood in front of his bathroom vanity, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, as he scrubbed energetically at his hair with another. Once he'd finished that, he tossed the towel in a corner and ran his fingers gingerly along the tender area on the left side of his chest and abdomen, carefully checking each rib as he went. There were plenty of other aches and pains, but that was by far the worst. _Amazing how that didn't hurt earlier_, he though with a grimace as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. _Gotta love those endorphins._

He doubtless had one hell of a bruise under the fur, but as he'd expected, that appeared to be the worst of it. Now that he thought on it, he vaguely recalled Logan checking the spot the previous night, after his shower, and declaring it to be nothing serious. The older man had certainly known exactly what he was doing - no surprise there. He'd run Kurt until he was two heartbeats from dropping like a rock and abused him in almost every conceivable, non-lethal way, but had made absolutely sure that he suffered no serious harm.

He was still tender in a number of places from the drubbing Logan had administered, but the shower had taken care of a huge amount of his residual stiffness, and his accelerated metabolism would probably deal with most of the rest before tomorrow morning. He flashed glittering fangs in a quick grin as he reflected on the considerable advantages of having a hellishly fast metabolism, a smile that only faded slightly as his stomach reminded him pointedly of one of the disadvantages.

He felt decidedly more human now, the irony of which was not lost on him. He glanced briefly at the blue-furred, demonic visage in the mirror with a sigh, then dropped his towels in the corner and headed out to scrounge through his duffel for clean clothes. One entire side of the bag was taken up by his uniforms - he had more of the damn things than anyone else, due to the necessity of wearing one to school under his holo every day. It was almost funny that one of the few things he had _really_ looked forward to about leaving the circus had been the idea of leaving spandex behind forever.

_So much for wishful thinking, but spandex and fur just do *not* mix happily,_ he thought with disgust as he pushed the pile of uniforms aside and dug out a pair of cargo pants and a tank top. Shorts would have been nice but he preferred not to have his misshapen legs on public display, and most jeans were out of the question as they weren't loose enough to accommodate the aforementioned legs. Between the fur and his metabolism, it was almost always just a little too warm for him indoors, but the tank top was as far as he was willing to go in the conflict between comfort and concealment.

After dressing, he dug one of his holo watches out of its case in the side pocket of his duffel and then flowed smoothly to his feet, ignoring the slight protests of over-taxed muscles and joints as he did so. He strapped the chunky black watch on and then stretched, feeling the slight, satisfying pops all down his spine as his vertebrae realigned themselves and then stopped, frozen in mid-stretch, as his eyes alighted on the rumpled heap of blankets that had served as his bed, their bed, last night. He had managed, quite successfully, to keep his mind mostly off of...that...for the last forty-five minutes or so, but the large, rusty brown stain on the center of one light gray blanket effectively put an end to that. He pressed his eyes shut as he fought a sudden, almost overwhelming, urge to bolt, to just get away.

_So much blood. I didn't realize there was so much blood..._ After a brief moment to steady himself he took a deep, shuddering breath and, opening his eyes, he quickly stepped over and used one foot to wad the blanket up, concealing the offending stain. At least now he didn't have to look at the evidence of his...transgression. Although at close quarters the smell was more than sufficient to remind him that it was there. With a grimace of distaste he also scooped up the used condoms littering the floor in the same general vicinity and then concealed them at the bottom of his bathroom trash - under half a roll of toilet paper. He ran both hands roughly through his still damp hair in a nervous gesture, then bent with a sigh and dug his rosary out of the pocket of the pants he'd worn last night. Lightly fingering the smooth beads, he headed out to his 'thinking spot' on the balcony, pulling the door almost closed behind him. He certainly had plenty to think about.

He leapt lightly up to crouch on the rail, and let his hands dangle limply between his knees. His only movement was the restless flicking of his tail and the soothing glide of his fingers across the smooth beads of his rosary as he tried to gather his thoughts. It was one of his most precious possessions and one of the only things he owned which had survived the destruction of the mansion - due entirely to the fact that he kept it with him always. Just the feel of the worn beads slipping through his fingers could almost always bring him at least a measure of peace. Tonight, though, it was not the peace of prayer that he sought, but something different.

He knew what the Church would say to what he'd done with Kitty and no amount of prayer would change it. It was fornication and a sin. The only acceptable option was to confess, repent and resolve to sin no more. God knows, he'd had enough experience with the formula, and, honestly, he'd never had any real problem with repentance before - or even with the go and sin no more bit. He may not have _succeeded_ too well with the latter, but he'd always at least left the confessional box with the intention of staying on the straight and narrow thereafter. Could he help it if temptation had an unsettling habit of flinging itself bodily at him and refusing to let go until he gave in?

He dropped his head in shame as memories came flooding back, memories he'd prefer to forget entirely, especially now. He didn't even want to think of...those times...now, didn't want to associate them in even the most tangential way with what he'd shared with Kitty. That _had_ been fornication, pure and simple, with no love lost on either side. He hadn't been proud of it then and was even less so now. There could be no comparison between... that...and, well....

His thoughts trailed off as he clenched his fist tightly around the rosary in his hand, the beads digging into his palm. His golden eyes were almost glassy as he gazed blankly across the grounds to where the waters of the bay shimmered in the evening light. Whatever the Church might call it, he just could not think of making love to Kitty, his best friend, his...love...as fornication, as a sin. Nor did he think that he could bring himself to repent of it. More worrisome by far, as he poked gingerly at his conscience, was the realization that he wasn't sure he could resolve to sin no more - worse yet, he didn't even really want to try. It had felt too good and too...right...to be with her and she had seemed to feel the same.

He wasn't quite sure when or how his feelings for Kitty had changed, but he knew for certain that what he felt for her was not what one felt for a 'best friend', nor was it simple lust. It was somethinch mch more...profound...and the realization frightened him more than a little. He knew how to deal with a friend. He knew how to deal with a...a fuck buddy, for lack of a better term. He had absolutely no idea how to deal with a sexual relationship with someone he actually cared about and who apparently cared for him.

His tail was lashing in agitation as a wave of uncertainty washed over him. _How could she care for you?_ came the nagging little voice that haunted the darkest corners of his soul. _How could anyone love a freak like you?_ He screwed his eyes shut as the acid commentary ate away at what little was left of the fragile peace he'd felt on waking. _You're a freak. An...experiment...just like before...just like always... She didn't want you, she just wanted to see what if felt like to do an animal._ He didn't even realize he was shaking, didn't feel sharp edges of the cross on his rosary draw blood as his fist tightened convulsively, didn't feel the pain as his lashing tail struck the stone balcony rail like a cracking whip.

_No. NO!_ His head dropped to his chest and his jaw clenched tight in determination as he ruthlessly squashed the bitter voice of paranoia trying to overwhelm him. He forced himself to remember Kitty's words this morning, the look in her eyes as she'd told him she loved him, and a convulsive shudder ran down his spine. She had looked so small and lost and he had clearly seen the uncertainty in her eyes. Uncertainty and the fear that she had said too much, that he would reject her. His hands relaxed and he took a few deep, ragged breaths as he pushed the last of his fear back into the dark recesses it had sprung from. It hadn't been curiosity, or a desire to 'do the freak' that had made Kitty seek him out last night. Incredible as it might seem, she had wanted him, Kurt Wagner, neither because of his...peculiarities...nor despite them. Not because of what he was, but because of who he was. He felt the first faint rumble of a purr beginning deep in his chest as he actually let himself believe that, at least for the moment. Because he knew, in his heart, that it was true.

Opening his hand he ran his fingers lightly over the beads there and his lips quirked up in a melancholy smile as he lightly stroked a small, gold hoop clasped just above the tiny, hand carved cross at their center. Carefully, he unhooked the object and let it rest in his palm, its mellow gold a close match for the gleam of his eyes and a stark contrast to the dark blue skin of his hand. He gazed at it for a moment longer, then, coming to a decision, he tucked the rosary carefully into a pocket of his pants. Taking the hoop carefully between two thick fingers, he closed his eyes, remembering....

_Two young boys, a piece of ice, half a potato and a pilfered sewing needle out behind the goldsmith's caravan on a hot August afternoon. A stab of pain, breath hissing through clenched teeth and a brief flash as dark fingers nimbly replaced steel with smooth, cool gold._ He'd been eight years old, and he'd made his very first, and best, friend...

"You always did say that I would find someone Stefan," he whispered, his voice thick and melancholy as his smile. "Someone who could see past this...," he gestured unconsciously at himself, "to what was inside. I thought you were crazy, mein Bruder, but perhaps...perhaps you were right."

Reaching up he fumbled briefly at the lobe of his left ear, trying to find a hole last used, what, was it 3 months ago...or four? He couldn't remember now. It had been years since he'd worn it more than the absolute minimum necessary to keep the hole open. Years since he'd felt he had the right to.

Finally, after an endless moment of frustration, the slender hoop slipped smoothly into place and he fastened the clasp to hold it secure. It had never been meant to be removed. His hand still lingered at his ear, fingers lightly stroking the smooth circle of gold, reacquainting themselves with its familiar, yet alien, presence. Finally, he let his hand drop, his arms again resting lightly across his knees as he looked out on the tranquil waters of the bay. "Ja, perhaps you were right...." His voice was no longer quite so melancholy as before and the faint bass rumble of his purr began again.

He was so preoccupied that he didn't hear the soft tread of light footsteps across his room, didn't realize that he was no longer alone until a small hand, followed by a smooth cheek, came to rest lightly on his shoulder.

Kitty paused in the hall outside Kurt's door, hand poised to knock, before she reconsidered and let it drop. Smiling, she looked up and down the hallway, confirming that she had no witnesses, before slipping wraith-like through the door and into the room beyond. She stopped just inside, blinking slowly as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of an early spring evening. Her first thought on seeing the darkened room was that he'd already left for dinner, and her face fell in disappointment before she remembered that, left to himself, Kurt rarely bothered to turn on a light.

She looked around the empty room, flushing as her gaze slid across the rumpled blankets where they'd lain last night and this morning. The bathroom door was ajar, and while the absence of light meant nothing, the lack of sound or movement indicated that room, too, was empty. She heaved a sigh of disappointment as she glanced up at the huge chandelier in the center of the room, half-hoping to find Kurt hanging from the ridiculously ornate fixture and laughing at her uncertainty. She was irrationally disappointed at the thought that he might have gone down to dinner without her.

The smile faded from her face and her shoulders slumped as she turned to leave the room, noticing, as she did so, a faint breeze leaking in through the French doors, which were just slightly ajar. She couldn't say why she didn't just call out for him, any more than she could really explain why she hadn't just knocked in the first place.

She ghosted silently to the door and peered out into the gathering dusk, a slow smile touching her lips as she saw Kurt crouching comfortably in 'his' spot on the balcony rail. There had been a time when seeing him in that pose would have unsettled her at best, when seeing him at all had served only to drive home just how far removed she now was from all things 'normal'. Now...Now she stood silently in the shadows of his room and watched as the breeze pushed still damp tendrils of indigo hair back from the velvet planes of his face, while his tail curled and swayed lazily behind him.

The sight of him took her breath away, she wanted him so much. Wanted to touch him and hold him, to feel his arms around her and the indescribable soft brush of his fur against her...everywhere. She closed her eyes with a gasp at the flood of images and sensations, uncomfortably aware of the heat suffusing her body.

She knew, intellectually, that shs sus supposed to feel guilty about what had happened. About what they...she...had done. Her parents would doubtless be crushed if they knew. She'd had 'the talk' with her mother years ago, and a repeat of it before leaving to come to the Institute, and Terri Pryde had placed great emphasis on the importance of her little girl 'saving herself' for marriage. There had been bits about free milk and cows thrown in there somewhere too, but Kitty couldn't be bothered to bring them to mind at the moment.

She had little doubt that the Professor and Ms. Munroe would probably be very...disappointed...in them as well if...when...they found out. Despite all this, she simply couldn't manage to dredge up the requisite guilt or shame. It had felt good and...right...and she knew, without any doubt whatsoever, that Kurt would _never_ hurt her. Maybe if it had been just sex, a meaningless fling for no purpose other than simple, physical gratification, she could have felt that way. But it hadn't been.... Had it? No!

Letting her eyes slip open again she raised her hand to the door and was on the verge of calling out Kurt's name when his head turned as he examined something in his hands. She caught a brief glimpse of his face, his lips curled up in a slight smile that made it nowhere near his eyes. She froze, unable or unwilling to intrude upon his solitude - she wasn't quite sure which.

She watched the graceful shift and slide of sleek muscles beneath velvet fur as he fiddled briefly with whatever he held, then caught her breath in surprise as he lifted a slender golden hoop and, after a moment's fumbling, slipped it into place in his left ear. Now that was news. She couldn't move, couldn't take her eyes off the mellow gleam of gold, noting how sharply it contrasted with the deep, rich indigo of his fur, and how similar it was to the subdued glow of his eyes in the evening light. _How much more,_ she wondered, _don't I know?_

His fingers lingered for a long moment, stroking almost tentatively at the tiny hoop, before he dropped his hand to hang limply between his knees in his usual, loose-limbed pose. He was looking out on the bay again, and Kitty could no longer see his face to tell if it still bore the uncharacteristic look of melancholy that had stopped her just a moment before.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped quietly through the doors and laid first her hand, and then her cheek on one warm, velveteen shoulder. She smiled in surprise at the unexpected rumble of his purr as well as the delicious sensation of his skin shivering and sliding over iron-hard muscles at her touch.

"Hey Fuzzy. ny fny for your thoughts?" she asked, her voice soft and almost hesitant. She hoped for, but didn't really expect, an answer.


Warm golden eyes, almost the exact tone of the gleaming hoop in his ear, turned to regard her and he returned her smile with one of his own.

"Guten Abend, Kaetzchen," he answered her, his light tenor voice as warm and mellow as the purr that vibrated through his words as he spoke.

He'd almost jumped at her hand on his shoulder, before her voice and the...quality...of the touch had registered on his distracted mind. His purr stuttered for a moment before he recovered and then, if anything, turned up a notch as he settled into her touch. He had to resist the urge to reach up and cover, or remove, the hoop in his ear, instead turning his head slightly and shifting his attention to her question. With any luck she hadn't noticed.

"I was just...thinking on a friend Liebe...a good friend and some words he once spoke...." His voice trailed away and his smile shifted toward melancholy again as he reached up to gently trace the line of her jaw with one rough finger. She shivered slightly and leaned into his hand, trying to think of something to distract him from whatever shadowed paths his thoughts were taking.

Reaching up, she put one finger tip to the slender hoop in his ear and asked, with a smile, "Why haven't I seen this before Fuzzy? It's beautiful."

He flinched slightly away from the touch and tried, belatedly, to conceal the fact by reaching up to push his hair back from his face.

"Ach, that? You haven't seen it because I don't wear it. Not anymore..." and he reached up to finger it lightly once more, closing his eyes briefly against the memory of clear blue eyes raised to his in confusion and pain. "Don't ask, Liebe. Please...don't ask."

"But why Kurt? It's actually pretty darn sexy," and she snuggled closer to him, her cheek still resting against his shoulder as she slipped her arms around his waist. She paused then, and, cocking her head questioningly, looked up at him in concern. "You didn't stop wearing it because of us, did you? Because of coming here? You didn't think it would bother anyone?"

He blinked at her in confusion for a moment, the speed of her questions and her obvious concern taking him by surprise. "Nein Kaetzchen," he finally managed to interject. "No, it was nothing like that," and he smiled reassuringly at her - a smile he willed, with only limited success, to reach his eyes. "I stopped wearing it long ago, long before I ever knew of this place. I just," he paused, his fangs catching lightly at his upper lip, before he continued in a rush, "just slip it in...occasionally. To, to make sure that the hole doesn't close over, ja?"

He then reached up and quickly unfastened it, pulling it deftly out and slipping it into his pocket before she had a chance to question or protest his action. "No threat of that, though, so it can go away again..." and he grinned at her, his fangs gleaming dully and his eyes glowing in the fading light.


She wanted to ask more, wanted to know what caused the shadow of pain that flickered briefly across his face before it was replaced with his trademark grin. A grin, she was coming to realize, that was as often as not a mask over pain. She almost did ask, almost pushed where he obviously didn't want to go. Damn it! Why couldn't he trust her... But the peace that they'd found this morning was still too tenuous, too fragile, to risk shattering it with probing questions. She sucked in a sharp breath and looked away to hide the disappointment in her eyes. It could wait for now. She'd just add it to her rapidly expanding list of 'things to ask Kurt when the time is right' - if it ever was.

Instead, she turned back to him and returned his rather forced smile with one of her own, not too strained she hoped. "We've been found out" she told him, trying to keep her voice light. "Your sister gave me the third degree this afternoon, but on the plus side, Mr. Logan doesn't seem to care." The look of slack-jawed surprise on his face was suitably gratifying and she didn't even bother trying to suppress the giggle it evoked.

Once he managed to pick his chin up off his chest and she stopped laughing she explained the events of her afternoon in great depth, elaborating on Scott's 'dunking' at lunch and taking a certain amount of 'artistic' license when describing her encounter with Logan as well as Rogue's interrogation after lunch . By the time she finished with her 'escape' from the Danger Room there was no hint of shadow left in his eyes and he was laughing so hard he was almost in tears. That alone was worth any minor embarrassment the retelling may have caused her.

She had never let her arms stray from where they wrapped loosely 'round his hips. At some point he had turned within their circle and now she leaned her head on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart as his laughter slowly died to be replaced with the low, thrumming rumble of his purr.

_Weird_, she thought. _Weird...but nice. That won't take too much getting used to at all..._

Kurt let his head drop so that his cheek rested lightly atop her head as he shifted one hand up to run his fingers through her still damp hair. He wished she'd wear it down more often. She smelled fresh and, as always, vaguely fruity from whatever bath products she had used. Beneath it all, though, he could just catch the warm, slightly musky smell that was just her.

The moment was so perfect, so...comfortable...that he hated to spoil it with further conversation. But some things had to be discussed before they descended into the chaos that was daily life among a dozen plus mutants. It was a long moment before he could nerve himself to speak, a long moment during which he tightened his arms around her as his purr slowly stuttered and then died.

"So Kaetzchen," he started, his voice soft and uncertain. "What do we do now?" He felt her tense slightly against him, before pulling back so that she could look him in the eye.

"What do we do now about what, Fuzzy?" she asked, sounding more than a little concerned and surprised by his question.

"Well, Liebe. What do we do about...us?" He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled the sweet fragrance of her hair and skin, trying to steady himself. "Are we...well, are we a, a couple? Should we be?"

She stiffened in his arms and pulled back a little farther. "Don't you, don't you want to be?" she asked him, her voice wavering into a higher register at the end. "I mean...well...it's just..." Her lower lip was trembling and he could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes as he jumped frantically into yet another verbal minefield.

"No! I mean yes! Kaetzchen, I...I would like very much to be...with you, that way. I meant it this morning when I told you I love you, but if you wish for only the love of a friend, then that is always yours for the asking. I do not want to...to pressure you...just because..." his voice trailed off uncertainly as he looked down into angry blue eyes.

"Kurt Wagner, will you get it through your thick skull that you have done nothing to put any pressure on me. Nothing whatsoever!" She was positively glowering at him now, and he found himself thinking, quite incongruously, that she was adorable when she was angry. Only a very healthy sense of self-preservation kept him from making the observation aloud. "What on earth do I have to do to prove to you that everything that happened, last night and this morning, happened _because I wanted it_ and _because I love you?" _

She snorted in exasperation, and her expression softened somewhat. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I could love you?" she continued. Suddenly she grinned wickedly at him and her arms, which had still been draped around his hips, slipped up to settle around his neck instead. "Would you get the picture if I tied you down and had my way with you?"

He couldn't suppress his answering grin, and his own response popped out before he could engage the higher functions of his brain. "Well it certainly wouldn't hurt to try and find out, ja?"

Suddenly her grip tightened and he was being pulled down. Down to those soft, pink lips and the heady aroma of strawberries. He let his eyes slip shut as their lips met, concentrating on the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her against his mouth, the musky sweet scent that was just her, beneath the artificial smells of shampoo, soap and lip gloss.

She tangled her fingers gently in the long hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer still, her lips parting for him as his tongue swept out to gently beg entrance. His breath caught in his throat with a low moan and he tightened his grip on her, simultaneously letting one hand drift down to stroke her bottom and pull her against him. He could actually feel all capacity for rational thought seeping rapidly from his brain and had to struggle against the urge to turn and press her to the balcony rail, to strip her and take her right there.

_And when the hell did being a gentleman go flying out the window? Oh, right, last night...and this morning... Okay then._

It was the reaalization of just where they were, standing out on his balcony in full view of God and anyone else who might just happen to look up, that brought him at least partially to his senses. He pulled back slightly and pressed his lips gently to her temples, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, while moving his hands up to stroke lightly at her hair.

"Not, perhaps, the best...time...or place for this, meine Liebe," he gasped, settling finally to nuzzle his cheek into the still damp hair at her temple. She made a soft sound that wasn't quite a protest and settled her cheek against his chest, apparently agreeing. This position was not really less incriminating, but it was somewhat better, in Kurt's view, than being caught 'sucking face'. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, just savoring her presence. The feel of her pressed up against him, her arms draped loosely around his waist again, the soft tickle of her hair against his cheek and the smell of her...oh, the smell of her. He had absolutely no desire to be anywhere but here, doing anything but this.... Unfortunately, it was time to nerve himself to broach yet another uncomfortable subject.

"Kaetzchen?" His face screwed up in trepidation pain as he spoke.

"Hmmm, Fuzzy?" She sounded so content and her arms tightened just slightly around his waist, one hand drifting to stroke gently at his backside.

"Well, Liebe...it's just that... Technically, I haven't broken up with Amanda and, well..." She'd frozen against him and he could feel the tension in her body. He hated bringing this up, hated the feeling that he had 'cheated' on the other girl. He may have felt that the relationship was over, but she obviously didn't feel the same and he had not, really, said or done anything that could qualify as actually breaking up with her.

He may not like her attitude, but the fact remained that she was, basically, a good person. He knew she was not intentionally using him, knew that she honestly thought she loved him. As angry as he'd become with her attitude towards his mutation, he couldn't bring himself to dislike her or wish her any ill. "Kaetzchen, I just...well...would you mind keeping this...private...until after I get a chance to...to break up with her on Monday? It's just that...well...I don't want to be with her anymore but...but I don't want to hurt her either. Do you understand, Liebe?"

She was silent for a long moment and he began to worry that she was angry with him. He briefly wished for senses as acute as Logan's so that he could smell out emotions as reliably as the older man.

"It's okay Kurt. I understand." she finally answered and she sighed and relaxed into his arms. "It wouldn't be very fair, or nice, to do anything else, would it? Besides," she continued, her voice thoughtful. "I was thinking,"

"Did it hurt much Liebe," he interrupted with a grin.

"Oh, stuff it Fuzzy," and she smacked him lightly on the rump. "As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted. I was thinking that...maybe...it might be a good idea if we...well, if we kept this...us...kind of...private? Just for a while, maybe?" Her voice became less confident with each word she spoke. "It's not that I don't...you know...want people to know," she told him quickly, obviously fearing his reaction to her suggestion. "It's just that...well...I don't know if I, like, want to be grist for the gossip mill just yet...if you can understand. And, well, you know how...everyone...us included...hounds Scott and Jean? They, like, hardly ever get a moment alone. So I thought that...if we just...kind of, you know, go on like before...well, then...everyone would, like, leave us alone and...Oh, I don't know what I'm saying! I'm sorry Kurt." Kitty flopped her head down, her forehead bouncing lightly off his sternum as she gave up in frustration.

He tilted her chin up gently with one hand, forcing her to meet his steady amber gaze. He smiled reassuringly at her and stroked her silky cheek with one large thumb as he told her, "I understand perfectly, Liebe, and I agree. The longer we can avoid becoming public knowledge the better. Life will be much easier, and," he grinned, "_much_ more fun, if we don't have to constantly watch our backs for voyeurs or pranksters." His grin turned suggestive as he bent to kiss her, their tongues immediately twining as he pulled her to him again, all thoughts of Amanda completely banished from his mind as he lost himself in the warmth of her embrace.

To his consternation, his stomach chose that moment to vocally remind him that he'd pushed himself too hard and eaten too little in the last twenty-four hours. Screw the benefits, sometimes an accelerated metabolism was an unadulterated pain in the ass!
Kitty pulled slightly away and looked up at him, her eyes dancing, and he gave her a lopsided grin. "I think it's trying to tell us something, eh Liebe?"

"Yeah. It's telling us to get our backsides downstairs before all the food's gone Fuzzy. And it's a good thing your stomach decided to speak up for itself or we probably would've ended up having to scrounge something out of the pantry. As it is," she glanced at her watch, "dinner probably just got here. If we get down there fast there you should still be able to throw yourself on enough pork fried rice and sweet and sour chicken to keep body and soul together for a little while longer at least."

"Pork fried rice? No one told me we were getting Chinese! What are we waiting for?" Grinning devilishly at her, he wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders, dropped a light kiss on top of her head, and with a 'bamf' they were gone.


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Oooh, big surprise, another chapter with way too much internal monologue. So, you think anything's ever going to actually happen in this story? Yeah, it will, I'm just reeeeeally slow.

Make my month (believe me, I need it) leme ame a review. Good, bad, indifferent. Whatever....