Forever

CHAPTER EIGHT—FOREVER

 

 

 

 

 

A/N—Once again mountains of thanks go to Internutter and
Foxfeather! Mille Grazie! I bow to your editorial wonderfulness! This is still NC-17 and all the weird loops of
the last chapter will be explained in time—just wait for it….

 

 

 

 

 

The lemony smell of liquid dish soap
teased Kitty’s nostrils as she immersed her arms up to the elbows in the
mansion’s kitchen sink. Occasionally,
she would brush arms with Jean as the redhead reached for dishes to dry after
Kitty had washed them. So far, Jean had
remained silent on the events of that afternoon. After school, Amara announced that she was walking home and hared
off down the bike path, daring innocent cyclist to hit her as she strolled in
their way. Scott just shook his head
and let her go. Jean, however, had
chewed on her lip worriedly and tried a few times to start a conversation with
Kitty, but hastily aborted each effort whenever Scott shot her a worried
look. Kitty had reached the last of the
silverware and was starting on the glasses when Jean finally broke her silence.

“Kitty,
about this afternoon… I can’t begin to
tell you how sorry and embarrassed I am about what I did.” Jean leaned forward on the counter, resting
her weight on her arms in an attitude of penance.

“It’s
okay. I mean, it was a little weird,
the whole warm-tingly thing and my, um, reactions, but I can understand why you
did it.” Kitty turned to face her
friend, leaning against the sink and it’s rapidly cooling contents. “You just had to let it out.”

“Yes. I guess I was tired of being all…calm and
reserved. Scott had just confronted me
about it and I was tired of holding this in for almost six months.” I don’t think Amara was the best person
to include in this confession, though.
“It’s not often I break like that and it was wrong of me to flood you
with my emotions. It was an abuse of my
abilities.”

Whoa. And I thought I was hard on myself. Kitty wrung out the dishrag and
carefully hopped onto the edge of the counter by the sink. “You’re a telepath, Jean. Showing us like that would be like Kurt
speaking German or me babbling.” She
smiled ruefully at her self-slam.
“Amara didn’t handle it well, though, did she?”

“I think
she has feelings for Scott.” Jean
rubbed her temples, still feeling remnants of her earlier headache. “I don’t know whdidndidn’t see it
before. If I had known, I would never
have—“

“You didn’t
see it because she didn’t want anyone to.
She’s more reserved about her emotions than anyone else here. Scott is, well, he’s safe. He’s a hot guy who’s taken.”

“He’s not
taken! I—“

“His heart
belongs to you, Jean, and on some level all the girls here know it.” Kitty hopped down and proceeded to finish
the glasses. “I mean, I think everyone
here except for Storm has had a crush on him at one time or another.” Jean’s raised eyebrows caused Kitty to blush
madly. “Don’t tell Kurt I said that.”

“Only if
you don’t tell anyone about this afternoon.”


“Deal. What about Amara, though?” Reaching the last glass, Kitty stripped off
her gloves and drained the sink. Jean
was studying the glass in her hand as if it held all the answers to her problem,
ignoring Kitty’s question. “I guess
we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, huh?” Jean nodded absently, lost in her own world.

 

Amara
stared sulkily into her mirror. “What
does that red cow have that is so attractive to men? I am beautiful, wealthy, cultured…” A knock on her door caused
her head to snap around. “What?”

“Um,
phone.” Jamie sounded frightened out of
his wits. Amara intimidated him worse
than Logan and that new French guy put together. He wasn’t sure if it was her bearing, her attitude, her looks or
all three put together that made him want to wet himself on a regular basis but
whatever it was also turned him into a clumsy, babbling idiot around her.

“Fine.” Amara slammed her door wide open, knocking
Jamie into the wall. “Shit. Five of you. Can’t you do anything right?”
Jamies slunk back down the hall towards the direction of Kurt’s
room. Kurt liked him; Kurt wouldn’t be
mean to him…

 

“Who is
it?” As far as Amara knew, no one at
school had the phone number of the Institute except for the administration (who
she knew would not be calling this time of day) and Duncan. Maybe Lance.

“Hello,
Princess. I saw you crying today. Such a shame to ruin a face like yours with
tears.”

“Is this
Lance? What do you want?” Amara sank onto the nearby ottoman in the
downstairs study. Today is shaping up
to be one of the worst of my life.

“I think we
want the same thing. We both want the
people we love to come to their senses, to see the error of their ways. Am I right?” He sounded as if he were lying
down.

“I haven’t
a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I
think you do. I may not know who
your little problem is, but I know what it is. Kitty is mine, you know.
All this fucking around with freak-boy is just to hurt me.” Lance rolled onto his side and threw a shoe
at Tabitha and Todd who were trying their damnedest to find out who he was
talking to. “Excuse me for a moment,”
he said in his best ‘business’ voice.
“Toad! Boom Boom! Fucking knock
it off!” Amara winced as she heard a
crash, muffled by the phone lines, followed by a moan from someone she presumed
to be Toad. “Now. As I was saying…”
Lance was back with his smooth-talker voice.

“You
weren’t saying anything. At
least, nothing of interest to me.”
Amara could see a shadow dart by the doorway to the study accompanied by
the smell of watermelon bubblegum and Bonne Belle lip balm. Eavesdropping, Jubilee?

“I don’t
think you were listening.” He sounded
agitated now, something Amara knew from Kitty’s experiences with him could be
dangerous. “I want a certain Miss Pryde
back to my side and you want…whoever…to yours.
If they were even there to begin with.”

Ouch. “Fine. What do you want from me?” Amara was beginning to see the benefits of
Lance’s vague proposition.

“Just your
help, Princess. Just your help.” Good.
She’s caving. Lance hoped
she could not hear the smirk in his voice.


Amara could
no longer see Jubilee’s shadow but she knew the girl was still there, listening
in. “I’ll be more than happy to aide in
your project so long as I have the necessary details. Write them down for me in outline form and have them on my desk
at the start of fourth period tomorrow.”
Make it sound like schoolwork.
That should bore the brat enough that she’ll bugger off.

“Huh? I ain’t writing shit down. Nuh-uh.
That’s how idiots get caught.”
He was about to hang up the phone when a thought occurred to him. “Are you being listened to?” At Amara’s noncommittal hum, Lance
continued. “Got it. I’ll meet you outside the gates to the
Institute in two hours. Say…are you
already in your jammies?” Lance’s imagination took a rather interesting
turn.

“None of
your business.” Last thing I need is
a Brotherhood stalker. “I’ll be there.”
She hung up without saying goodbye.
On the other end of the line, Lance listened to the click of Amara’s
disconnection and smiled. Things were
looking up…

 

Jubilee
paced up and down the hall after Amara stormed past her. That girl is up to no good… I’ll bet dollars to donuts that call wasn’t
about a project. Amara had been
acting stranger than usual all evening.
After school she had sequestered herself in her room and refused
dinner. When Jean asked if she was
feeling well, Amara had said something in a low, harsh voice that Jubilee could
not make out but made Jean blanch. Whatever
it is has its roots with Jean. I
think. Maybe Rogue wants to do a little
recon. Get her offa Remy’s jock for a
while. Jubilee perked up at the
notion of separating the two, just for the sake of sparing Remy from Rogue’s
mysterious wiles. A sly smile playing across her pixie-like face, Jubilee
skipped off down the hall calling for Rogue.
Jubilee nearly ran Kitty down as the older girl was coming up the
stairs. Phasing in the nick of time, the
only resultant incident was a slightly tingly feeling for Jubilee and the desperate
need to sit down for Kitty. “Watch it,
Jubes!” Jubilee turned, flashed a smile
and blew a large bubble at her friend before calling for Rogue again. “What do you need her for? She’s showing Remy the boathouse.”

“What?” If it hadn’t been for the abject sadness
that washed across Jubilee’s face, Kitty would have found her sudden, skidding
halt comical. “She’s where doing what?”

“She’s
showing Remy the boathouse… he wanted a tour.”[1] Kitty stood slowly, her mission to find
where Amara had wandered off to temporarily forgotten. “Are you going to be okay? You, like, look kinda bummed.” She reached a tentative hand out towards Jubilee’s
shoulder.

“That
Southern Fried Bitch.” Jubilee’s blue
eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, seeing right through Kitty to some disastrous
liaison in the boathouse.

“If it’s
any comfort, she can’t, like, touch him…” I think I really put my foot in it
this time.

“Oh, she
can touch him. She just can’t touch him
without her gloves.” Jubilee turned on
her heel and marched out the front door, her voice retaining none if it’s
youthful sweetness as she called Rogue’s name again. Kitty noticed that the trench coat clad girl was pulling her pink
gloves out of her coat pocket as she stormed out.

“No good
can come of this.” Kitty had visions of
a girl fight ending in bloodshed running through her head as she took off
across the foyer to get Jean from the kitchen.
“Jean! We gotta go head Jubilee
off at the pass!” It was Kitty’s turn
to slide to a halt when she realized Jean was no longer in the kitchen. Damn it.
Where did she go? No
time. Find her later. She could no longer hear Jubilee’s strident
tones through the open front door and had a sick feeling that she was near the
boathouse. “Rahne! Amara!
Help!” Kurt was the first one to
appear. A ‘bamf’d into the foyer
right behind Kitty as she ran towards the stairs.

“Vas ist
wrong, Katzchen?” He was only mildly
surprised when his hand passed through thin air instead of her arm. When Kitty was nervous or severely agitated,
she had the tendency to go into phase.
“Kitty!”

“Huh? Oh,
Kurt! Where’re the girls?” Kitty wanted to leave the guys out of
it—guys breaking up a chick fight would be too embarrassing for Jubilee. Don’t want them getting any sort of vicarious
thrills, either.

“Rahne is
in the tub and Amara is…I don’t know…
Huh. Good question.” Kurt looked both ways down the halls leading
off the foyer as if the girl in question might appear at that moment.

“Storm!”
Kitty’s bellow caught him off guard and he jumped straight up, catching hold of
the low-hanging light fixture.
“Storm! Come quick!” Kitty spun around, already hearing faint
sounds of yelling coming from across the expansive yard. “Kurt, when she gets down here, tell Storm
to meet me at the boathouse!”

“What’s
wrong, Kitty?” Now he was getting
worried. “Tell me! I might be able to help!” His ears were picking up the sounds of
Jubilee shouting uncomplimentary things in Chinese at Rogue, who in turn was
yelling in an accent so thick as to be almost unrecognizable.[2] “Oh.”
Girl fight. Those can be
vicious…”Katzchen, I don’t think you should go… out… there…” She was already gone before he finished his
sentence. “Oh, boy.”

 

Kitty raced
across the dark lawn, dodging benches and various garden devices as she neared
the small boathouse. Remy was trying to
calm both girls down with no success. It
doesn’t sound like any punches have been thrown yet. Maybe I’m in…ow. That
sounded like it hurt. A meaty
“thunk” signaled the contact of flesh on flesh. Jubilee was switching between Chinese and English, ducking a
flying kick from Rogue when Kitty reached the scene. “Stop it!” Neither one
seemed to hear Kitty. Remy, though,
turned helpless eyes to her and shrugged, clearly at a loss. Oh, I so don’t want to do this. “Remy, think you can grab one of them?”

“Non,
p’tite chatte. I don’ be thinkin’ dat
such a bonne idée.” Remy ran his hands
through already-tousled hair and jerked his chin in the direction of Rogue’s
exposed midriff. “ ‘Sides, I not be
likin’ her ‘nough to get drained, non?”[3] Jubilee, however, had no such
reservations. She made a flying tackle
for Rogue’s knees and brought the girl down “Oh, fuck
me. One of them is going to get, like,
really hurt really soon.” Remy shook
his head and eyed the duo speculatively.


“You be
t’inkin’ to stop dem, chere?” He seemed
to find the idea as implausible as Kitty did.


“Well, a
girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
Jubilee was currently pinned to the ground by Rogue’s knees on her
shoulders. Rogue’s hair was in her face
and a f tri trickle of blood ran from her lower lip but she appeared defiant in
the face of Jubilee’s continuing onslaught.
The Asian girl was writhing, tangled in her trench coat. She made as if to bite Rogue but luckily
thought better of it; a sudden calm washed over Jubilee and Kitty had the urge
to duck for cover. “Remy, I’d move out
of the way if I were you.” She stepped
in front of the Cajun, brushing away his restraining hands, as Jubilee bent her
knees and arched her back, bringing both booted feet up for a swift kick to
Rogue’s upper back.

“You
bitch!” Rogue rolled to one side,
gasping for breath, as Jubilee flipped herself backwards and up onto her feet.

“You just
can’t leave well enough alone, can you?
You just have to be Miss Bad Ass, Little Miss Aren’torgeorgeous?” She finally gave in and used her powers,
letting loose a small spray of sparks.

Rogue and Kitty had enough sense to
cover their eyes when they saw Jubilee spread her fingers but Remy wasn’t so
lucky. Behind her, Kitty heard him
swear and knew that his vision was at least momentarily compromised. It’s now or never! Kitty ran at Jubilee and caught a handful of
her trench coat, taking her down and rolling so that the smaller girl was
beneath her. “Jubes! Calm down!” Where’s Storm? “It’s not worth fighting with one of your
best friends!” Jubilee bared her teeth
at Kitty and bucked beneath her, trying to throw the slightly larger girl
off.

“What do you know, Pretty
Kitty? When have you ever been
alone?” Jubilee’s eyes went wide at her
own words and she stopped struggling.
“Get off me. Oh my God. Get off
me—I think I’m gonna hurl.” Kitty
obliged, rocking back onto her heels.

Rogue was spitting out grass and
blood, rising on her knees near Kitty. “What in the cornbread Hell was that
about?”[4] Remy had regained his sight and seemed to be
debating whether or not he should go to Rogue, Jubilee, Kitty or just stand there. He chose to just stand there, looking a
little sheepish.

“Children, what is going on
here?” Storm finally arrived, in an
uncharacteristic state of dishabille.
Her hair was twisted into a rough topknot, pieces tumbling down around her
shoulders. Her bathrobe appeared to be
inside out over a pair of…Are those ducky pajamas?

“Nothing, Storm.” The chorus of voices did nothing to assuage
her expression of extreme suspicion.
Kurt came running close behind the weather goddess, out of breath and
limping. Jubilee was retching in the
reeds on the side of the lake, her voice absent from the assurances.

“Hmmm. Why am I having trouble believing this?” Storm eyed each student in turn, making them
all glad that she was not a telepath.
“Kurt comes pounding on my door, disturbing my meditation,” they
all knew then that this incident would not soon be forgotten, “and I come
practically flying out here to hear that there is nothing wrong?”

“I think that we took care of
it…” Kitty rose to her feet, her eyes
not meeting Storm’s or Kurt’s piercing looks.
“Right, Remy?”

“Oui…Je pense que…oui.”[5] He looked Storm boldly in the eye, daring
her to call him on his affirmation.

“Very well. If you think that you handled this all
yourselves… Kitty, are those grass
stains on your jeans?”

“Um, yes?” Damn it. Damn it Damn it Damn it.

“Kitty, you have laundry detail for
thet oft of the week. Jubilee, when you
come up for air, you will be in charge of cleaning the boathouse this
weekend. Rogue, anger management with
the Professor. Two hours Friday night, three on Saturday. Remy, hand me that pack of cigarettes. No smoking on the grounds. Kurt, if you ever have to interrupt
my meditations again, someone had better be dead.” Storm glared at the assembled teenagers for a full minute before
taking her leave, striding back to the mansion and muttering about insane
teenagers.

“I be t’inkin’ dat mebbe I best be
headin’ to bed, non?” Remy took another
pack of cigarettes from an interior pocket of his coat and nodded to
Kitty. “Bonne nuit p’tite. Rogue, ma belle, see you in de mornin’,
oui?” He bowed over Rogue’s hand, lips
almost but not quite touching her skin.
Jubilee remained in the reeds, her yellow coat glaring against the
darkness of the water and grass. Remy
opened his mouth but thought better of whatever he was going to say, quirking
an eyebrow in her direction and smirking a little. “Good night, mon ami.” Kurt returned a murmured farewell and
returned his attention to Kitty.

“Kitty, what the Hell happened
here?” Rogue had gathered her collar
(torn off during the fight, Kitty guessed) and was trudging back towards the
mansion. Kitty rolled her eyes towards
the waterline, indicating that Jubilee was within hearing distance. “Walk with me.” Kurt took Kitty’s elbow and practically dragged her up the slight
incline towards the mansion.

“Kurt, I don’t want to leave her!”

“She’ll be fine, Katzchen! Jubilee just needs time to herself, I
think.” I hope that’s it. I think she’s crying. Great, now I feel like an ass. Kurt looked over his shoulder at the yellow
blob that was Jubilee, almost hesitating but deciding not to, dragging Kitty
along at a faster pace.

“Kurt! Stop
it right now!” Kitty phased herself,
causing Kurt to stumble at the sudden loss of her mass. “What’s wrong?”

“Damn it, Kitty, I was worried. You were frantic, wouldn’t tell me what was
wrong. I heard yelling and…well, I was
worried.” He jutted his jaw as if
defying her to find something wrong with his concern.

“Oh.” I
feel like a jackass. “I was just trying to stop the fight. Jubilee is headstrong and well, Remy might
be easily scared.” Even as she said it,
Kitty thought it sounded weak. Kurt’s
raised eyebrow indicated he felt the same way.
Kitty sighed to herself and resumed walking, though at a slower pace
than Kurt would have liked. They passed
in and out of pools of light created by the mansion’s security lamps and the
glow of the garden lights Storm had set up.
Occasionally, they would pass close enough to the mansion that the
yellow glow from someone’s reading lamp or fluofluorescent glow of an overhead
bulb would illuminate the couple. The
space between the pools, though, made Kurt all but vanish. Kitty found the effect to be a little
disconcerting, like walking with a ghost.
Now you see ‘em, now ya don’t…
She realized that they were making a circle around the mansion when they
reached the pool, half way around from the boathouse. A lone picnic table and two benches were all the lawn furniture
in the area, a gentle slope spilling clover and wild onions with their tiny
white flowers moved away from the mansion and its pool feeding into the
darkness of the bordering woods. Kitty
paused between patches of light and made an executive decision. She took Kurt’s hand and led him past the
furniture to a patch of clover, far enough from the mansion that they had
privacy but close enough so no one could accuse them of sneaking away for
immoral purposes.[6] Without a word, they sat facing the woods,
effectively shutting out the world of the Institute for the time being. “I had a weird day.” Kitty barely whispered the words but jumped
in surprise at the sound of her own voice in the stillness.

Where did that come from? “Want to
share?” Kurt leaned back on his elbows
and turned his face to the sky, the scudding clouds causing the moon to
disappear momentarily.

“Honestly, I really can’t say too much. Just that I think Jean needs someone to talk
to.”

“Ja. Scott’s
the same way.” Kurt reached up and
tugged Kitty’s ponytail. “Lie down?”

Kitty joined Kurt, copying his position. “I think that those two have some
issues. And now Jubilee and Rogue are
fighting over Gambit. Or Remy. Or whatever we’re supposed to call him. And Amara!
Oy[7]. She’s acting nutty lately…” Kurt’s lips over hers effectively silenced
the rest of Kitty’s tirade.

“Katzchen, let’s just be alone right now.” Kurt slipped one of his hands through hers
and lay back on the ground. Kitty
debated whether or not to be insulted and decided to join him. Kurt studied the sky for a moment before
announcing “I think we can see forever from here.”

“Really? I
thought it was Canada.”

“Silly Kitty.
Look up. Space is so…vast. Huge. Infinite…”

“Thank you Mister Roget. But I can see what you mean.
It’s perfection. Not a flaw in
the stars and possibilities are endless.”
Kitty edged a little closer to Kurt, basking in his warmth against the
slight chill of mid-March in upstate New York.


“Forever doesn’t seem so bad, does it?” Kurt’s voice sounded worried to Kitty’s
ears.

“Not so long as I’ve got you to harass.” Kitty rolled onto her stomach, propping
herself onto her elbows. “June is so
far away.” If my parents’ let me stay here until then.

“Kitty, I know we really should have discussed this a
while back. I mean,” Kurt rolled onto
his side and shook his bangs back agitatedly, “we seem to be going at this all
wrong.”

Bile rose in Kitty’s throat. Oh, God.
Somehow, he found out about this afternoon and he’s jealous. Or what if he doesn’t want to be stuck with
me because of Lance and my parents? “Going
at, um, what all wrong?” She couldn’t
stop the tremors in her voice.

“Mein Liebes,” Kurt took one of her hands in his,
forcing Kitty to shift her weight so she was now facing him on her side. “Will you be my girlfriend?” The expression on his face was so earnest
that Kitty felt horrible about the giggle rising in her throat. “What’s so funny?”

“I thought, oh, Kurt!” She was outright laughing now, “I thought you were going to tell
me you didn’t want to be with me anymore!”
She buried her face in his neck, loving the soft fur that tickled her
skin when she inhaled. Kurt’s arms slid
around her and drew her to his chest; Kitty could feel the rumble of a low
growl beneath her ribs.

“You thought I could just ditch you?” He sounded angry. Kurt’s arms shook with a suppressed need to throw something.

Kitty was snapped into sobriety, suddenly wary of
the usually gentle Nightcrawler. That’s
what he is right now—he’s not Kurt.
He’s Nightcrawler when he’s like this. The need to differentiate the two in her mind was the only thing
keeping her from throwing herself on the ground and begging forgiveness. In a calm, almost steady voice, she said,
“Kurt, I’m new at relationships. I’ve
only dated Lance and I think we can both agree that that doesn’t
count. You’re so special to me. You mean more than anything else in the
Universe to me and the thought of losing you is my worst fear.”

“Then why did you assume I would just walk
away?” His accent was thicker now,
making it a little hard for Kitty to keep up with the rapid cadence of his
speech. “If you love me like you say
you do, why are you so quick to assume I would just…just throw you away!” Kurt rolled to his feet, no longer able to
contain the pent up kinetic need. Kitty
remained where she was, tears welling in her eyes.

“Kurt, I never meant to hurt you! I was just scared. This is too good to be true for me, you know that?” She curled into a loose fetal position, her
head nearly touching her knees. “You
have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of you, even before I knew who you were I
knew you were out there. And when I met
you, it hit me like a bolt.” Kitty’s
voice was muffled now, but Kurt could hear her growing more quiet, as if she
were afraid to speak these things out loud.
He finally stopped pacing and squatted in front of her, waiting. Kitty finally looked up from her
pretzel-esque pose and pinned him with a look that would have paralyzed men of
weaker spirits. “You have no idea how
much I love you, Kurt. You have not
even the slightest clue how deeply these feelings run.” She was on her feet like a shot, her speed
surprising Kurt, who rose to meet her.
“You think you’re the only one with a corner on passionate
emotions? You think anyone else can’t
feel heartsick at the thought of their love with another? Damn it, Kurt, I can match you heartache for
heartache as far as we’re concerned.
All the animosity my parents feel towards me, towards mutant-kind---it
all pales in comparison to the intensity of the love and desire and
fine, I’ll say it lust I feel for you.”
Kitty roughly took her face in her hands and kissed him, smashing his
lips against his fangs and drawing blood.
Kurt was reminded strongly of one of their first embraces and the tiny
drop of Kitty that was floating in his veins.


Now I’m in her.
We’re whole. Kitty roughly
pushed him away, taking a giant step back as if she were ready to bolt at the
first sign of anger or disgust on his part.
Kurt merely stood, watching, the fight taken out of him. Kitty had laid everything out on the line
for him and he had pushed her to it. He
couldn’t say that he was guilty but on the other hand, he did not feel
pleased. He felt rather tired. “You never did answer me, you know…”

Kitty blinked in surprise. She had been sure that her outburst would lead to something…well,
something very bad, was the nebulous thought her mind seized upon during the
tangent. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Nein. Just
mad at this situation we’re in. You
know, I never pictured it like this.”
Kurt slid his through Kitty’s and began walking back to the mansion.

“What’s that saying—‘The best laid plans of mice and
men…’”

“Ja.
Something like that. You know
tomorrow is going to be worse than today.
I think Scott and Jean will only fight more before things get better.”

“Yeah.”
Kitty noticed they had reached the door leading into the solarium, just
off one of the downstairs parlors. “And
I think Amara is going to be in fine form.
You know this means that we can’t sneak around like we’ve been
doing…” Drawing him into the darkness,
Kitty prayed to whichever power was listening that no one would come looking
for them for the next few minutes.

“You’re forgetting, Katzchen, Ich bin ein schlauer
kleiner Elf[8]” This drew a
laugh from the girl and she quickly pressed her lips first to his collarbone
then to his chin, ending on his lips. “Good night, Mein Engel.”

“Good night, love.”
Kitty phased herself through the glass door of the solarium, leaving Kurt
to take a different route into the mansion.
Somewhere nearby, someone was rustling through the boxwood. Taking a deep sniff, Kurt could barely
detect the artificial scent of roses and something spicy, like incense. It was a perfume that was slightly familiar
but not one he could place off the top of his head. Must be one of the girls out for a stroll. Or meeting a boyfriend… Kurt was tempted to stay and see which of
his fellow mutants were having secret meetings but opted to get back inside
before anyone noticed his extended absence.
Onward and upward. Kurt
jumped up and grabbed the overhang that sheltered the small porch he had been
standing on, neatly backflipping onto the narrow ledge. Scarcely paying attention, his thoughts lost
in all that was Kitty, the blue mutant walked casually down the length of the
mansion and turned the corner of the building, following the ledge. A few windows down, he jimmied the glass
pane up and slid into his room. Still
lost in thought, he missed Amara darting across the lawn on her way to the main
gates, bare feet whispering against wet grass.


 

Where the Hell is he? Amara checked her watch again, finding less
than a minute had passed since she last checked. I should just go back in.
This is folly. Something
compelled Amara to remain where she was, though, seated just inside the main
gates, her feet resting against the bars of the black metal enclosure. Well, to be completely vulgar about it,
Fuck Me Running Backwards. Here’s Lover
Boy now. Lance seemed to rise out
of the darkness, his pale face and hands the only visible indicator of his
location as he moved towards the gate.
He was wearing all black, not, Amara noted with some degree of thanks,
his outfit he wore for the Brotherhood.
Pausing about ten feet from Amara, he looked at her searchingly. “It’s okay,” she whispered, “they think I’m
in bed.”

“What about security?” He still had not moved.

“Just be vigilant.”
She shrugged, dismissing his fears out of hand.

“You come out here.
I’m not going in there.” Lance
moved close enough to see the sparkley nail polish Amara had decorated her
toenails with. He pointed vaguely in
the direction of her feet. “That for
me, Sexy?”

“No, but this is.”
Amara shot him a rude gesture and looked over her shoulder, making sure
she was still unobserved. The camera
nearest the gate had been covered “accidentally on purpose” by leaves, so now
Amara’s only problem would be anyone seeing her do this. Angling herself on top of the gate, Amara
dropped somewhat silently to the ground.
Lance was behind her before she could turn around, a scant six inches
from her back. “Step away. I refuse to talk to you if you’re breathing
down my neck.” She remained facing the
gate until she felt him move away.
“Now,” Hmmmm. Not bad. Not bad at all… “What is your cunning
plan?[9] She raked her eyes over Lance’s lanky form,
not bothering to fight the dark, sweat-soaked thoughts that floated to the top
of her brain. Love makes you faithful, not blind.[10]

Lance seemed to be appreciating the view in
turn. He moved close again, noting that
Amara did not so much as flinch at his proximity. “We both want something we can’t have.”

“I think we’ve established that. Quit trying to be
smart and get to what you do best, force and stupidity.” Now she did move, pushing past him and
moving into the darkness outside the gates.
It was not often that the Institute residents ventured beyond the gates
at night, and even less often that they did so alone. Amara felt a small, almost childish thrill of the forbidden as
she walked further into the shadows lining the long, narrow road leading the
fortress that was the mansion. “Tell me
what you want from me or I’m going back in.”

“I don’t think so!”
Lance was faster than Amara thought, grabbing her by the shoulder and
spinning her to face him. He tightened
his grip just so, appreciating the wince that crossed Amara’s
aristocratic features before she could stop it.

“Let me go or you will regret it highly.” She slid let one of her hands rest against
Lance’s crotch, amused at the sudden hunger in his eyes. Concentrating, Amara allowed her hand to
glow warmly, the precursor to her full flaming glory.

“Fucking whore!”
Lance shoved her away, dancing in pain.
Amara fell backwards, getting the wind knocked out of her. As she lay gasping for breath, Lance moved
to stand over her, bending low enough to hiss into her ear. “We can help each other. Help me get Kitty, tell me what I need to
know, and I’ll help you get whoever the Hell it is you want.”

“How (gasp) do you…know…you…can…help….me?” Amara was slowly getting her breath back,
scooting backwards on the dusty concrete.
Lance remained where he was standing, reminding Amara of a statue back
home, a huge warrior, legs spread wide to straddle the city gates. Lance’s arms are crossed over his chest and
he was glaring down his nose at her in his best Severus Snape impression,
spoiling the effect just slightly.

“Just trust me.”
He held out a hand to help her to her feet and, after the briefest
hesitation, she took it. Scott’s image
in her brain became entangled with Lance’s for a moment, sending a shock that
could have been shame or lust down Amara’s spine to the base of her toes and
straight back up to her brain. Lance
seemed to notice her sudden tense posture and dropped her hand. “Tell me everything about Kurt and
Kitty.” His piercing glare, used so
often to manipulate the Brotherhood and fellow classmates, did nothing to
Amara. He found himself on the receiving
end of one of her patented “butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth” looks and gulped,
seeing a huge flaw in his plan. If
she doesn’t go along with this, I’m screwed.

“Fine. Sit
down-this could get long.” The
temptation of Scott was too great. If
Lance can help me get him, it’s worth it.
A slight, guilty twinge was
brushed aside for later analysis and Amara spilt everything that she knew to
her sometime enemy, starting with the night the couple in question got caught
and ending with the punishment meted out by the adults at the mansion. “And I think they’ve been sneaking
around. I’d bet money on it…” A slight rumble beneath Amara made her
suddenly afraid. “Lance…?”

“What she doesn’t understand is that no one
leaves me. She’s mine.” Amara had a sinking feeling that she had
done something very, very bad. “What I
need you to do, Princess, is exactly what the good Professor said. Keep them apart. If I find out they’ve been fucking,
you’re the first one I’m coming for, got it?”


Anger welled in Amara’s breast and she barely
registered that she burst into flames before Lance’s startled eyes. For a mutant, he was very skittish about
mutations. “You will not threaten me. I will keep them apart because I was told to
by my guardian, not because you have some sort of fixation on Kitty. I will, however, keep you apprised of any
openings in her schedule in which you can maybe meet with her,” she did not add
aloud that she would only allow that if she were present. Amara may have been a bitch to Kitty but she
did not wish her physical harm. At
least not of the sort Lance seemed to be promising. Letting her flames die down, Amara grabbed a handful of Lance’s
shirt and pulled his face to hers.
“Listen to me carefully. So far, you haven’t said a thing about what
you’re going to do for me and my situation. “ Lance’s eyes were wide and Amara swore that she could feel him
shaking in her grip. Oh, I like
this. “I want you to keep Jean away
from Scott. And vice versa. Distract him with Boom Boom, anything. I can get him from there. But you do your damnedest to keep them apart
long enough for me to get in. Got it?” Lance nodded, his hair falling into his
face. “And Lance?”

“Um, yeah?”
He was visibly shaking now.

“Keep your mouth shut about this or I will
have myself a weenie roast. Got
it?” She released her grip and made for
the gate, not even turning back to see if Lance fell or stood, if he stayed or
ran. Once over the gate again, Amara
stuck close to the fence line until she was parallel to the lake. Deciding that she was out of range of the
primary security cameras and could use the plausible excuse of a late walk,
Amara headed in a straight line towards the mansion. The moon was hidden behind layers of clouds, all color leeched
from the area around the boathouse where Amara was currently walking. I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is re-god-damned-diculous. But for just one stupid chance with
Scott… Fuck. How pathetic can I be?
Giving a random tuft of grass a viscous kick, Amara missed the
yellow-clad girl hunched in the reeds off to her left. She also missed the intent look the girl was
giving her, so focused was she on her own conundrum.

Hey.
Amara. Whaddya know. Found her after all. Didn’t need Rogue at all. What’s Amara doing out this late? What am I doing out this late? God, I can’t fucking believe I jumped
Rogue. I’m so jealous of her! Remy is drooling over her and he hasn’t even
been here a week and a half! I’m sooooo
much more his type. I mean, thick as
thieves is an expression for a reason, right? Jubilee dusted off her coat and jeans, rising to her feet after
she was sure Amara was out of hearing and seeing range. Slowly, she trudged towards the mansion,
following in the steps of the Nova Roman.
I am too embarrassed to live.
How the Hell am I gonna face Kitty and Rogue? And Remy! Oh my God! I wonder if I can sparkly myself unconscious
until people forget about it…
Jubilee sighed to herself and shut out her own thoughts, focusing on her
own feet as they marched towards the front door. Good night moon.
With a last, longing look at the solitude of the night, Jubilee let
herself into the mansion and trudged up the stairs, wishing sleep would truly
bring forgetfulness.

 

“Amara! Let
go of my arm!” Kitty was a little sore
from the previous day’s tumble with Jubilee and now that Amara seemed to think
that she was a pull toy and her arm was the cord, Kitty was discovering aches
she never knew could exist.

“You’re too slow! And stop making eyes at him.” Kurt stood forlornly in the middle of the
hall, about ten feet behind the struggling girls. He and Kitty had been talking between classes, not even a hint of
innuendo in their glances and casual touches, when Amara had swooped down on
them like a bird of prey. Seizing
Kitty’s upper arm, she announced, “Just because Evan is lazy and lax in his
duties does not mean I have to share the shame of failure with him.”

“Hey! We
were talking!” Kurt grabbed Kitty’s
other arm and a brief tug-of-war ensued until Kitty growled in
frustration. “Sorry, Mein Schatz.” Kurt sounded contrite but by the look on his
face, Kitty could tell that he would have pulled until her arm came from it’s
socket just to get her away from Amara and to himself for a while.

“It’s okay, Kurt.
We’ll hook up later, ‘kay?” She
blew him a kiss and allowed Amara to lead her down the hall; Kitty never lost
eye contact with Kurt despite Amara’s chastisement.

After the two disappeared around the corner and he
could no longer hear Amara’s voice, Kurt returned to his locker and gently
banged his head against the metal door.
“Verdammt age of consent.
Verdammt school.”

“Hey short, blue and fuzzy. What’s up?”
Jubilee popped her gum in his ear, causing Kurt to jump.

“Watch the fur, Jubes!” Stepping prudently back from the Asian girl, Kurt took in her
surprising new appearance. Her shoulder-length black hair was gone, replaced
with a short, spikey style that he had the feeling was a home job. Instead of her normal mall-rat apparel,
Jubilee was wearing a cropped black t-shirt over low-slung jeans. Her chunky boots added a few inches of
height to her five-foot frame but she was still pixie-like in appearance. The yellow trench coat over her arm was the
only thing of the old Jubilee Kurt could recognize[11]. “What the…”

“Men.” She
seemed to think this one word was answer enough. “So what’s the long face for?”
Tell me your sob story and I’ll tell ya mine.” She leaned against the locker next to Kurt’s and blew another
bubble, turning her head to pop it this time.

“Danke.
Amara is just being hyper-vigilant today is all.” And she had been—going so far as to station
herself between Kurt and Kitty every chance she got, whether it be passing in
the hall or at the picnic table at lunch.
She monitored their conversations and went ballistic at the slightest
brush of hands or meaningful glance.

“Noted the hyper bitch mode this morning.” Jubilee had also noticed Rogue’s icy silence
and the pitying looks from Remy, but she chose to block those out for the time being. “Hmmm.
You know, she was out pretty late last night.”

“Vas?” This
caught Kurt’s attention. The scent of
perfume in the boxwoods teased at his memory and he wondered if Amara had been
the rustling he had heard. “How do you
know?”

“Um, when I was….sitting….out at the lake after
everyone left, I heard someone coming from the direction of the fence. First I was worried cuz I thought it could
be a thief or something but I saw Amara when she got close enough to the light
on the boathouse. She was muttering to
herself and didn’t see me. I’ll bet she
was meeting someone.” Jubilee seemed
satisfied with this idea for a brief moment, then a light seemed to go on. “Oh!
That phone call!”

“What?
Jubilee? Are you okay?” The girl had taken on an excited manner,
fidgeting even more wildly than usual.
Her gum was forgotten as she took hold of Kurt’s hand, shaking it as she
was wont to do to people when explaining one of her practical jokes or wild
plans.

“Last night I heard her on the phone with someone
planning something and then she was sneaking around last night. Now she’s all hyper bitch. It’s all related!” Jubilee practically danced at her deduction.

“As Kitty would say, duh.” Jubilee did not seem to hear him, though, and let loose a small
spray of silver sparks before she could stop herself. Luckily, the only people aside from Kurt who saw her do it
assumed it was glitter from some locker decorating mission.[12]
“Jubilee! Calm down!” Kurt gathered his
books and took off after the small girl down the hall. She was whooping with delight over whatever
idea was forming in her head and now his curiosity was piqued.

“I think Amara is up to something!” Jubilee had stopped twirling and was
bouncing in place in front of the biology lab, a class she shared with
Kurt.

“Well, when isn’t she?” I probably don’t want to know most of the stuff cooking in
Amara’s head!

“I mean, I think she really up to
something. With an outsider!” Jubilee bumped the classroom door open,
effectively cutting off any further discussion since class was beginning just
as they sauntered in.

Kurt followed, worriedly. Why do I have a bad
feeling that things are going to get a Hell of a lot worse before they get any
better?

 

Storm tucked a hank of her white hair that escaped
her kerchief behind her ear. There. Last one in it’s pot and all my little
plants are happy. It was a point of
pride for her that her plants were happy, something that mystified Logan and
Hank. The Professor merely smiled when
Storm had told him this little quirk of hers, as if he knew exactly what she
was talking about. He probably does… She was careful to shield her thoughts in
the mansion; it was not that she did not trust the Professor or Jean, for that
matter, but she liked her privacy and she did not want to broadcast errant
thoughts that were really no one’s business but her own. It was while pondering the nature of
telepathy and her happy plants that Storm noticed the large white truck pull up
outside, obviously admitted by Logan, the only other person in the mansion at
the moment who could key someone into the gate from the interior key pad in the
foyer. Hmmm. Interesting. It appears we are getting another resident. She brushed nonexistent specs off of her
light-colored pants and top, put her garden tools into their appropriate place
and headed towards the truck to greet the new recruit. It was then that she noticed something was
amiss—these were moving boxes alright, but they were being dropped off. No student with them. And there were quite a few, including what
seemed to be large pieces of furniture.
The men in coveralls unloading the truck, which bore the name of some
moving company Storm had never heard of and a phone number belonging to another
state, were just putting the items in the front hall and on the steps leading
to the door. I wonder why they
aren’t putting them into the student’s room? It was Logan, though, that finally made her realize this was no
routine move-in. He stood off to one
side, not even budging to help the movers. That’s strange. He can usually
be counted on to supervise them so that they do not gouge the wood on the
stairs… In one of Logan’s hands was
a crumpled piece of paper; the look on his face would have made Sabertooth drop
dead from fear. Delicately dodging
boxes, Storm picked her way to her friend.
“What is it?” Wordlessly, he
thrust the wad of paper at her and shoved a cigar in his mouth. Storm arched one brow and received a similar
look in return. Well. If he’s not going to tell me I guess I’ll
just have to be nosy. Quickly, she
scanned the letter (for that was the nature of the beast, a three page letter
written in tight, cramped writing) and her heart sank to her feet. “Oh, Kitty, no!”

 

TBC

(I really like cliffhangers too much!)



[1] In case you
hadn’t guessed by now, Remy is sort of OOC for the XME universe (what little
bit we’ve seen of him). I’m yielding to my Jubilee/Remy UST tendencies right
now. Get over it. J

[2] Down ‘round
these parts, Southern accents tend to get more pronounced with high
emotion. We’re almost incomprehensible
when you get us mad. At least if you
don’t know how to understand us in the first place. For some reason, the Deep South is the worst to comprehend when
they’re pissed off.

[3] Remy/Gambit
sounds like my Cajun relatives so I am writing his accent with some amount of
certainty as to how it “looks” on paper as opposed to Kurt’s; I don’t want to
alienate my elf-muse btchetchering his accent.
J

[4] It’s an
expression those of us with East Texas roots are guilty of using. Really.
Heh.

[5] Yes. I think that…yes.

[6] This is what
the nuns at my high school used to call it when we slipped away from their
supervision—we were slipping away for “immoral purposes.”

[7] I am going
to assume that Kitty is like most of us with Jewish backgrounds and
Yiddish-isms tend to slip into conversation when you’re least expecting it.

[8] One more
time for the people in the cheap seats: “I’m a clever little elf.” (Thanks to
Foxfeather for that one!)

[9] Blackadder
gave me the phrase “cunning plan”.
“Devious plot” too, if you’re interested.

[10] Said to me
once by my ex-aunt who ended up lng mng my uncle for his best friend. Hmmm.


[11] Um, XME
Jubilee meet comic book Jubilee. Go get
your own little universe if you don’t like it.
Blah.

[12] I don’t
know about people in places other than the U.S, but for some reason girls
decorate each other’s lockers for birthdays, special occasions, the hell of
it. Usually involves messy glitter or
confetti and someone always gets in trouble for it.