Playing with Fire

Okay, someone was kind enough to tell me what I have to do to make this look nice. Unfortunately for any readers out there, it's too labor intensive and I'm too lazy. Got 3 school age children to chase, martial arts classes coming out my ears, two stories to finish and about 5 more ideas, so reformatting into html just isn't gonna happen. If you want to see it pretty, go to ff.net, it takes my Word doc as is. If you don't mind ugly formatting, read on.

Oh - I *still* don't own them. Damnit! They can keep everyone else if they'll just let me have the little blue guy!

*word* - still started its life as boldface
_word_ still started its life as italics

(if you wonder why _ is italics, it's b/c another site I post on converts that to underline for me and I'm *not* gonna have 3 formats for one story)

Anyway, this chapter you get to find out that I'm something of a sadist when it comes to the elf. Sorry, can't help myself. It gets worse before it gets better, so steel yourself.

WARNING: rated for consensual m/f underage sex, violence, language, inferences of child abuse/molestation. Don't read if you don't want to see any of the above.

DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES


"Face it, you're an animal, a freak. This is as good as it's ever going to get for you." The voice was soft and deep and dripped with acid.

_No! I'm not an animal. I'm not!_ He wanted to scream it but dared not make a sound. He knew the only answer would be pain. He choked back the tears and struggled to remain silent. Silence was a victory and he sorely needed any victories he could manage.

"You think anyone _normal_ will ever want to touch you this way freak?" He felt himself go rigid and then limp as a large hand stroked firmly from the base of his tail all the way out to the delicate spade tip. He stifled a moan that was almost a growl and tried to ignore the voice, the hand.

_I am *not* an animal!_

"You like that, don't you freak? You don't want to, but you do. You know you can't hit fit from me you filthy little animal." The voice was harsh and biting, taking pleasure in his pain and fear.

A whisper now, "touching you is just one really short step from doing it with one of 'Tonio's tigers or the organ grinder's monkey. You know that, don't you? Maybe you should be out there in a cage with the other animals, hmm?" The hand shifted with the voice - a whisper soft ruffling of his fur, tracing the edge of one delicate, pointed ear, and then his taiain.ain.

_Oh God, please don't._ He knew he was hyperventilating but he couldn't stop and he still dared not make a sound. Oh please, oh please, ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseoh...God! He felt his knees give way with a moan and heard the darkly satisfied laugh behind him. He knew what was coming next and screwed his eyes shut tight against the tears and the pain.

The hand was on his shoulder, holding him. No, shaking him and then?.

"Kur"Kurt? Hey, Kurt. Wake up man. Come on, it's just a nightmare." Scott was starting to get worried that he couldn't wake the younger boy when suddenly a pair of brilliant gold eyes snapped open just inches from his own. Kurt's strong, three-fingered hand shot up and grabbed him by the wrist, throwing off the hand he'd been using to shake him awake.

He almost jumped backwards at the look of rage and hatred he saw burning in the smaller teen's eyes. Those golden eyes might be alien, but sometimes they were no harder to read than any others and that wasn't at all what he'd expected to see in them. Not considering that it was whimpers of fear and pain that had drawn his attention when he'd entered the small room they shared.

"Kurt? Kurt, it's me, Scott. It's okay." Kurt's only response was to backpedal frantically up the bed until his progress was halted by his collision with the headboard. Scott wasn't sure what the other boy was seeing or hearing, but it sure as hell wasn't him. He was just about to try a mental 'shout' for help to Jean or the Professor, when Kurt blinked slowly once, then again, and he watched as the anger drained visibly from the eerie golden eyes, to be replaced by recognition and confusion.

"Scott? Was??" and suddenly the younger boy was struggling frantically up from the tangled wreckage of his and and shoving past him for the door, a look of panic on his face.

"Kurt, wait!" Scott ran after him, wondering if this time he should call for help, but his friend only made a sharp left as he hit the corridor and disappeared through ther inr into the small bathroom across the hall. By the time Scott reached the door he could clearly hear the unmistakable sound of Kurt being violently ill.

His first impulse at that point was to hope like hell the kid had made it to the toilet and get as far away as possible before the power of suggestion had him in there heaving too. He went with his second choice, however, and stuck his head cautiously through the door into the still dark room beyond. The sound of vomiting had stopped and he could hear the other boy's labored breathing now.

"Kurt? You okay buddy?" _Oh that's a good one, Summers. Sure he's okay, that's why he's in here puking his guts out genius. Try again._ "You need anything? Should I get Ms. Munroe or Dr. McCoy?"



Kurt sat slumped against the wall, letting the feel of the cold tile soak through his fur, concentrating on the pounding of his heart and the taste of bile on his tongue. Anything to chase the lingering images of his dreams -_nightmares_- from his mind. He heard Scott's voice in the darkness from somewhere near the door and was glad the older boy had not turned on the light, he didn't feel suited for the light just now. He tried to answer his friend's question, but the touch of phantom hands sent him surging back up just in time, his stomach surprising him by finding something more to eject.

When the wave of sickness passed he sank down again, exhausted and shaking. It was a while, he didn't know how long, before he could catch his breath to answer the question Scott had just repeated.

"Nein, mein Freund. I'm okay." His voice was shaking and he knew he didn't sound okay. _Please, Scott, please just leave me be._ "Don't disturb anyone at this hour. It's just the stomach flu or something. I wasn't feeling well before bed." He hated lying to his friend and team leader, but he certainly wasn't going to tell him the truth. _Like *that* would go over well._ His cock-eyed smile was bitter and self-mocking as he envisioned _that_ conversation. _No, there are some things our Fearless Leader just doesneedneed, or want, to know._

He lost any further questions or offers of help Scott was voicing as he slipped off the t-shirt he'd worn to bed and used it to scrub wearily at his face. The stitches in his lip had torn a bit and he could taste the coppery bitterness of blood. He let Scott's voice wash over him, not listening to the words so much as letting the sound of his friend's concern push some of the tatters of nightmare from his consciousness. So long as he didn't go back to sleep, he should be fine now. The fear was only for the dream, the rage he always felt on waking had slipped away, and the last of the sickness would disappear with the last of the memories and those he could chase away, or outrun. God, it had been such a long time since he'd had to deal with this particular corner of his own personal hell.

He was vaguely aware of telling Scott something, placating him with excuses and a promise to see Dr. McCoy in the morning if he was still sick. Finally, gratefully, he heard the soft thump of the door closing and the quiet pad of Scott's bare feet as he crossed the hall and returned to bed, leaving him in darkness and solitude.

He staggered to his feet, his stomach protesting the change in altitude, flushed the toilet, and tossed his soiled shirt into the hamper by the shower - reminding himself as he did so to make sure that he did that particular load of laundry. He briefly considered the idea of a shower, but rejected it in favor of sticking his head under the tap in one of the sinks. The cold water running down his neck helped ground him further in the here and now, pushing the memory of rough hands and a cold voice one step further into the darkened corners of his psyche. He resisted the urge to shake like a dog and instead scrubbed his face and hair into some facsimile of dryness with a towel, which promptly followed hisrt irt into the laundry basket. That done, he stood for a moment in the cold, dark silence to collect his thoughts, but it didnake ake long for memory and nightmare to come scrabbling at the corners of his still shaky composure.

In the mansion, he would have known what to do. He would have been in the Danger Room by now, running one of the programs Logan had made for him not long after he first arrived. Pushing himself until the need to focus on nothing but the task at hand drove everything else from his mind, and continuing until exhaustion - physical and mental - finished the job, and he could sleep and know the nightmares wouldn't return. Now he suppressed a moan along with a rising tide of nausea as, head down, face screwed up and hands clenched tightly in his hair, he searched his mind for a tool to keep the nightmares at bay. He didn't have the access codes to the 'mini' Danger Room at this site, and it didn't have his programs anyway. There'd been no time for it in the months they'd spent in these temporary quarters and he'd had no need for that...release...for months now. Tonight, though, tonight he'd have to improvise.

With the quiet rush of air filling a vacuum he was gone, leaving nothing but a rapidly dissipating cloud of purplish gray smoke in his place.



Kitty shivered at the delicious caress of velvet soft fur against her skin. She ran her fingers tgh tgh the thick nap of it across his shoulders and pulled him down to her, one hand tangling itself in the indigo silk of his hair. She stifled a moan as their lips met and parted and she tasted the musky sweetness of his mouth. Strong, calloused hands skimmed across her breasts and belly, leaving trails of fire along her flesh. She ran her hands down his back, luxuriating in the softness of his fur and the rippling muscles beneath her fingers.

Moaning again, her hands reached down to grasp his backside, pulling him down so she could feel his erection pressinstinst her hot, moist center. Golden eyes blazed down into her own and she thought, vaguely, that she should be afraid, but wasn't. A gentle, three fingered hand traced the line of her jaw then slipped lightly down her neck to cup one small, firm breast and she pulled him more urgently against her, wanting him inside her, filling and stretching her. Knowing that he wanted it too.

She felt as though every nerve in her body was on fire as he shifted above her, preparing to enter her and?

Something hit her solidly upside the head once, then again. She mewled in protest and put both arms up to protect her face and head as gentle blows rained repeatedly down on her and an irritated voice penetrated the fog enveloping her brain.

Protesting blearily she struggled upright in her cot, reluctantly slipping from her dream into the reality of her room mate pummeling her thoroughly with her pillow accompanied by a non-stop torrent of half serious complaints and imprecations.

"Y'know, some people 'round here are trying ta sleep ya little hussy," came Rogue's soft drawl.

Kitty was starting to go bright red with mortification. My God, what had Rogue heard? What had she said?

_Oh God, I didn't, like, say his name, did I?_

"It's bad enough watchin' everyone at school crawlin' all over each other all day without having ta listen ta yur fantasies all night long, you perv."

Now y hey heard the laughter in the older girl's voice and, as her shock wore off and her embarrassment escalated, she unwrapped her arms from ad hed her head and dove for her own pillow.

"Oh, you are so dead, Rogue!" she squealed, only half joking. "That was, like, the best dream I've had in ages and you _ruined_ it." She was giving as good as she got now, driving the older girl back with a flurry of blows to her head and body.

"Ah know it was gooood, roomie. Ah've been listenin' to ya half the night and Ah figured if Ah didn't wake you up soon Ah was goin' ta know a heck of a lot more about yur fantasy life than Ah really care to."

There were now random feathers drifting around the room as the girls' pillows slowly deteriorated under the abuse they were being subjected to, but neither of the two were inclined to stop. Kitty had to force her words out around squeals of laughter, "You know there...are...less, like...traumatic ways to...like...wake someone up...from a dream, Rogue!"

"Yeah, but Ah was afraid that if Ah got close enough to use any of 'em y'all just might decide ta incorporate _me_ inta yur dream. Just be glad Ah didn't go with mah first idea. Ah almost went ta find a bucket of water ta cool ya off with!"

Kitty dropped her pillow and collapsed onto her cot with a thump, feathers drifting randomly around her, clutching at her sides, laughing too hard to continue either the pillow fight or the conversation. Rogue let her pillow dangle forgotten from one hand as she waved feathers from her face and struggled to speak through gales of laughter.

"Oh, Kitty, yah should've seen yur face when y'all woke up girl! You literally didn't know what hit you."

"Yeah," Kitty managed to force out between gasps for breath, "well let's see how you do next time I wake you up from a dream with a pillow upside the head."

"You wouldn't!" Rogue exclaimed in mock horror.

"Oh yeah, try me," Kitty replied with an attempt at an evil grin.

"Y'k"Y'know, seein' as how ya kept me awake half the night listenin' to ya havin' all kinds o' fun in dreamland, seems like the least ya'll can do is tell me just who the lucky object o' your affections, or at least fantasies, is." Rogue stated with a smirk as she came over to drop next to Kitty on the small cot.

Kitty's laughter died almost immediately. She and Rogue had, surprisingly, gotten fairly close, especially since they'd become room mateTheyThey gossiped and talked about boys and sex as much as any other teenage girls (maybe more, given Rogue's unique limitations), but Kitty didn't think she was really ready to confess to her friend that she had developed a sudden and obsessive fixation on a certain blue, fuzzy team mate of theirs, especially since she had no idea whether it would ever be anything more than just a fantasy.

"Oh God," Rogue said, still laughing, "that response can only mean it's someone Ah know. Just please tell me it's not Lance. Even you have ta' admit what a slime ball he is now."

"Ew, God no!" Kitty denied hurriedly. "No way would I be thinking about Lance that way at all. Heck, I hardly ever thought of him _that way_ even when were actually dating."

"Oh thank God," Rogue declared with feeling, "'cause that woulda just about grossed me out as far as Ah could go. But if it's not Mr. "Ah'm gonna ryouryour world' then who is it, huh? Come on, fess

"None of your business, you snoop," Kitty replied with as much dignity as she could muster. "A lady doesn't kiss and tell."

"Kiss and tell, eh?" Rogue inquired with a satisfied smirk. "So whoever this dream guy is, you've kissed him, have you? Oh, this is too good." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "It can't be Scott, 'cause he's so stuck on Jean Ah don't think he even realizes that other girls exist. Jamie's too young." Her face lit up with malicious humor, "It's not Roberto, is it? That boy'll go after anythin' with boobs."

"Oh Rogue, give it a rest!" Kitty exclaimed, laughing at her description of the Brazilian boy. "I am not going to tell you." It was good to see the older girl laughing, even if it was at her expense in the middle of the night.

"Ah knew Ah should've left you dreamin' a bit longer, girl. Just a few more minutes and Ah'm sure you would'ven men moanin' his name clear as day and Ah wouldn't be sittin' here in suspense." Rogue almost doubled over laughing at the look of shock and the crimson flush accompanying it on Kitty's face. "Oh jeez, Kitty, you know Ah wouldn't do that! Hell, that's why Ah woke you up in the first place. Figured Ah didn't really need that much information.

Kitty's embarrassment only deepened when there was a knock on the door followed by Scott's voice. "You two decent?"

"No," Rogue replied with a grin, "we're sittin' here nekkid' thinkin' 'bout doin' the nasty with you Scott." She paused briefly for effect then called, "'course we're decent you eedjit, come on in."

The door opened just enough to admit Scott's head as he peered around it, his face visibly flushed in the light seeping in from the hallway. Kitty started to laugh at the obvious discomfort Rogue's comment had caused him.

"Very funny Rogue," he said with a rueful grin as he glanced around the room, taking in the feathers still drifting lazily on the currents from the ventilation system as well as the two flushed girls sitting on the bed. He was surprised to see that Kitty was wearing someone's tatty old cast-off t-shirt, probablyan'san's from the size of it. Rogue, however, was predictably covered from wrists to ankles in lightweight gray flannel pyjamas. "Anyway, I heard the...commotion...in here and I just thought I'd make sure you two weren't doing each other in or anything. Don't often hear that kind of ruckus at two in the morning after all."

"Nah, we're fine," Rogue replied in an offhand fashion. "Just couldn't sleep and decided ta blow off a little steam. How 'bout you, Scott? What're you doin' wanderin' the halls at two in the mornin'? Bein' our 'fearless leader' givin' you insomnia or somethin'?"

Scott barked a laugh at that. "Not likely," he replied, running his hands through tousled hair, "I like my sleep too much to let a little thing like stress interfere with it." He paused to yawn and Kitty realized with some surprise that he was still fully clothed. "Seriously, though, I got up with Kurt. He's got the stomach flu or something, and it's giving him nightmares. It's a good thing I woke him up when I did or, from the sounds of it, I don't think he would've made it to the bathroom before he started heaving. I don't know about you guys, but personally, that's not something I want to wake up to." Scott didn't feel the need to mention that the reason he'd been up to notice his roomie's discomfort was that he'd been in the rec room with Jean until half past one.

"Oh, TMI!" Rogue responded, scrunching her face up in disgust at the turn the conversation had taken. "God, guys will just talk about anythin', won't they? Well, if y'all will excuse me, some people 'round here would like ta get some sleep." She mock glared at Scott as she headed for her bed.

"Yeah, well, some people might want tonk ank about cleaning up all the feathers first, before they get sucked into the ventilation system and start recirculating all over the place," he responded with a grin and a meaningful look around the room. The instant the door had closed behind him Kitty and Rogue both burst into peals of laughter again.

"Oh, did you see the look on his face when he stuck his head in?" Kitty gasped. "I think you just about gave him a heart attack with that image Rogue!"

"I heard that," came Scott's muffled voice from the corridor outside.

"Well take your little perv self off to listen at someone else's door, Scott Summers," Rogue called back, still laughing so hard that it was almost, but not quite, unintelligible.

Accompanied by intermittent bursts of laughter, the two girls began to gather the bits of feather drifting all around their small room. Kitty didn't really believe Scott's comment about them recirculating through the bunker, but neither of them really wanted to swallow one in their sleep.

It took almost twenty minutes before they were fairly sure they'd collected and disposed of all the little downy bits during which time they'd discussed several, mostly lascivious, reasons for Scott to have been up and dressed at two in the morning. Finally, though, they were finished and, still giggling, the two teens climbed back into their beds.
"G'night Rogue," Kitty calloftloftly through the darkness.

"'night," Rogue replied. "Oh, and Kitty, if y'all're gonna have any more of those _interestin'_ dreams, could you try ta wait until _after_ Ah've gotten ta sleep?"

Kitty felt herself go scarlet and stifled another burst of laughter.

"I'll try, I caI can't make any promises," she replied, listening to the sounds of Rogue's even breathing as she drifted off to sleep. It took Kitty considerably longer before sleep reclaimed her and considering where her thoughts were going as she finally drifted off, she thought it was very lucky that Rogue had managed to get to sleep first.