Milkshakes and Mutterings

[Shadowcat]

It had begun as a fresh application of mascara and a quick grab for her wallet, but as such things always did with Kitty, freshening up to emerge from the Mansion had extended into something much more laborious. After she dug her mascara out of her makeup bag, for instance, she noticed in her and Rogue's (well, now just her) bathroom mirror that she actually should probably drag a brush through her hair as well. When she'd got both of those done with, she noticed that her breath still smelled like Cocoa Puffs, which wasn't a bad smell, but was a weird one. After she'd got done brushing (and flossing, because why not?) her teeth she'd of course had to reapply a base amount of lip gloss - and at that point had noticed that there was junk of some sort on her shirt, too high to cover it with the hoodie, not that she'd have done something like that anyway on the off-chance it would slip out somehow.

So she'd cast off her little sweatshirt and t-shirt and had tried to find more of the same, but both her other zip-ups were in the wash and she hated having bare arms, so she was left with sweaters. Her pink v-neck over jeans was okay, she judged, but her pink v-neck with tennis shoes were not, even nice ones, so she'd had to dig up her little white heels from the bottom of the closet... except that it wasn't Memorial Day yet, which left her with pink flats. They were more comfortable anyway.

And her wallet was blue. Which didn't match. She found a white purse that she was pretty sure had been Rogue's and left behind, but she was officially commandeering it, even if she'd ship it back after this afternoon.

After putting in earrings, because you couldn't look marginally nice without earrings, Kitty noticed that she had 13 seconds left of her original 20 minutes to get to the front door.

She took the only shortcut left available to her: she phased through her floor. Plopping down in the middle of the kitchen and almost landing on one of the other kids, she quickly apologized and half-jogged to the door, hoping she wasn't late.

She was. By almost a quarter of a minute.

"Sorry," she said to Peter, when she got there. "I, um, got distracted."

[tingrin]

"Sorry. I, um, got distracted."

His serious face wrinkled in thought for a moment as he looked at his watch, then he looked back at Kitty. "You are not late, it is all good. I have arranged for a cab to collect us to take us to town."

He gave her one of his Peter-smiles.

Peter Rasputin was a kind man. He was a simple soul, but he was inherently kind. He had picked up on Kitty's distress following the news item about John 'Bloody Idiot' Allerdyce, and he wanted to distract her.

"You look very nice," he said, a little shyly. He himself was dressed in a pair of black trousers, a white shirt and a blue sweater over the top. Every item of clothing was neatly ironed.

For some reason this didn't surprise her.

The cab arrived a few moments later and whisked them away down town to a coffee shop frequented by many of the Institute students, a small, intimate little place called 'How've You Bean?' It served the most delicious milkshakes as well as teas and coffees and Peter managed to get them a table right by the window.

He pushed the menu over to her with a smile. "You choose first," he said.

[Shadowcat]

"You are not late, it is all good. I have arranged for a cab to collect us to take us to town."

Thank G-d for watches with incorrect second hands. "Oh, you didn't have to do that," Kitty said. Not that she wanted to walk into the town, but she could, and taxis cost money. "But thank you," she added, not wanting to sound ungrateful - far to the opposite.

"You look very nice."

Suddenly, Kitty felt the might tidal wave of embarrassment that usually came with ventures like this wash over her. She felt suddenly shy, and a small pink flush appeared on her cheeks. "Thank you," she said carefully, her fingers tightening around Rogue's purse. "So do you."

He did. Kitty felt outclassed. She wasn't wearing anything that you even could iron, unless you counted her jeans - which, yes, had been ironed this morning, not that she'd ever tell anyone that, but which she'd worn all day.

But Peter really did look very nice.

Thankfully, the cab arrived quickly, sparing her from further cause for blushing. The ride only lasted a couple of minutes - town was only a mile or so out of the way, really, and they got a table no problem, right next to the window, and Peter graciously offered her the menu.

"You choose first."

Kitty knew exactly what she wanted already: she wanted a bucket of slightly chilled lard with whipped cream and a cherry on top. Somehow, she doubted they offered such a beast, but even if they did, she couldn't even imagine what would be necessary to burn off the hundreds of thousands of calories it was probably worth. So, instead of demanding fat grams, she took the menu with another smile - why was she smiling so much? It felt a little weird - and scanned it quickly, trying to determine how large a 'small' milkshake was and whether she'd feel too guilty about it or whether she should do the right thing and get the decaf skim no-whip cappucino that would taste like tar, though she suspected the coffee boy secretly used full-fat milk, because he thought she was anorexic.

Well, she hadn't had lunch, had she? Today was a day to cut loose.

She pushed the menu back across to Peter with another small smile. "Okay, your turn," she said, wishing she could think of something smart or funny or anything to say, happily though she anticipated her half-fat small chocolate malt (no whip, with cherry).

[tingrin]

Peter had a double strawberry shake with a latte (with full fat milk AND caramel syrup) as well.

But he was like that. Metabolism like shit off a shovel. When you weighed the better part of 300lbs armoured up, you didn't really give much thought to your weight on the whole.

The order was given and the waiter moved away leaving the two young people alone. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the day, he even lit the candle in the middle of the table.

Peter seemed faintly embarrassed by this and wouldn't meet Kitty's eyes at first.

"We do not get out of the Institute enough," he said, eventually, in order to somehow cover his embarrassment. "I really should make the effort to go out more, except I worry that people will start asking for autographs like they did the time Bobby and I went to the cinema."

[Shadowcat]

Kitty glanced only slightly enviously at Peter's order, which looked a bit like the lard-bucket she'd envisioned earlier. Jerk. She hated boys and their stupid metabolisms. Kitty's was nothing to shake a stick at, but if you planned to balance your entire weight on a quarter-inch square of wood in the bottom of your shoe and then hurl yourself through space, you didn't want to have that much extra padding to worry about.

The waiter set her malt down in front of her and Kitty looked up and murmured her usual quiet noise that sounded like 'thanks,' but then she wasn't so sure she wanted to do it anymore. A Bic lighter clicked softly and the little candle in the middle of the table glowed to life.

She barely noticed that Peter wouldn't look her in the eye. She was busy looking at the candle.

"We do not get out of the Institute enough. I really should make the effort to go out more, except I worry that people will start asking for autographs like they did the time Bobby and I went to the cinema."

Kitty glanced up, gave herself a mental slap in the face to harden her constitution, and smiled gently again, taking a bite of her malt - she'd always been one of those bizarre people who ate it with a spoon, mostly because she lived in terror of brain freezes. "Maybe you could get one of those pairs of glasses with the mustaches attached," Kitty said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Or pretend you don't know English." Probably not helpful, though.

"I think they'll stop eventually," she said. "At least, I hope so. No one's ever bugged me that much - I don't stick out as much as you do - but it seems like even the people that look at me funny are getting fewer and farther between."

[tingrin]

"Maybe you could get one of those pairs of glasses with the mustaches attached, or pretend you don't know English."

Peter roared with laughter at the suggestion of the 'Groucho Marx' type spectacles. He had a big belly laugh that drew several stares, but he didn't seem to care. "That is good joke," he said, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. "Maybe it could become part of our uniforms. As for not knowing English, that is route I have take so far." The waiter, who had left his shake, returned with his latte. "Spasiba," he said, absently.

They drank (or Kitty spooned) in companionable silence for a while until Peter noticed her attention on the candle.

"I could extinguish the flame if it helps," he said, softly.

For the very briefest of seconds it wasn't entirely evident whether he referred to the candle or to Pyro himself.

[Shadowcat]

Kitty jumped slightly as Peter burst out laughing. It hadn't been that funny, she'd thought... but his laughter made her laugh, so it seemed more normal.

"That is good joke. Maybe it could become part of our uniforms. As for not knowing English, that is route I have take so far."

"I wish I could speak something else," kitty said. "I took French for a year in middle school, but it didn't really sink in in eight months."

Russian sounded pretty cool, though. How hard was it to learn another alphabet, anyway? She could make flashcards.

Her attention was drawn by the candle in the middle of the table, though, and she felt as if somehow she was... Kitty didn't even know. He'd just been shot and here she was, acting as if nothing was wrong.

"I could extinguish the flame if it helps."

Kitty blinked up at Peter, her attention refocusing on him. "Oh - no, it's fine," she said, smiling again. "I'm over it."

[tingrin]

"Oh - no, it's fine," she said, smiling again. "I'm over it."

He gave her the sort of look that said, unspoken and incredulous, yes, of course you are, but then turned it into a smile. "Very well," he said, simply. "It is most pleasant in this coffee shop. I like to come here to draw and write my letters to Illyana."

It still amazed many people at the Institute that Peter faithfully wrote to his sister every day, sometimes more than once, frequently adding his own illustrations. He was a dutiful son and brother, though, and had made the promise when he'd left Siberia.

Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin wasn't the kind of man to go back on his promises.

He watched Kitty with her malt for a while. "There is a straw," he observed, puzzled by her need to drink it with the spoon.

[Shadowcat]

He looked at her almost as if he didn't believe her. She was TOO over it! She just... remembered a lot.

"Very well. It is most pleasant in this coffee shop. I like to come here to draw and write my letters to Illyana."

"I can't believe you still write to her every day," Kitty said, though it was evident by her tone that this was a good thing, and that he was dutiful rather than weirdly obsessive. "What is there even to write about day after day? I always end up just talking about classes when my parents call."

And call they did. Thank goodness, though. Kitty would go nuts without that tie to home.

"There is a straw."

Kitty glanced at her spoon guiltily and blushed a little. "I saw," Kitty said, "I just hate getting brain freezes and I always drink it too fast. And it keeps me from eating too much, because it takes longer."

G-d, she was such a freak.

[tingrin]

"I just hate getting brain freezes and I always drink it too fast. And it keeps me from eating too much, because it takes longer."

Peter's brow furrowed yet again. "What is 'brain freeze'?" It was a phrase that he had not heard before. When she commented about eating too much he shook his head. "It is a chocolate malt, Kitty, it is not eating too much. Home in Siberia, my mother would soon feed you up well. American women, you are all obsessed with eating too much. It cannot be good for you."

As if to emphasise the point, he took a huge slug out of his own drink, ending up with a rather amusing pink moustache.

They returned to a companionable silence again for a while during which Peter alternated between the heat of his latte and the cold shake. Eventually, he spoke, and his voice was so quiet she had to strain to pick up what he was saying.

"I was sad when you saw that news item," he said, softly. "I know that you and John were once...close friends, and I also know that I was most angry when he left the way he did, particularly when I saw how upset it made you. I wanted to crush his head between my hands for a long time."

There was a pause.

"I always liked you Kitty," he said, anxiously. "Very much."

[Shadowcat]

"What is 'brain freeze'?"

"Um," Kitty said, trying to figure out how to explain it. "Ice cream headache? When you eat something cold too fast, sometimes it makes your head hurt really bad, like, right between your eyes."

"It is a chocolate malt, Kitty, it is not eating too much. Home in Siberia, my mother would soon feed you up well. American women, you are all obsessed with eating too much. It cannot be good for you."

Kitty shook her head and snorted with laughter at Peter's new mustache. "No, but it is eating too much," she said to his earlier comment. "When you dance, you have to keep a really strict diet, and you have to be really careful not to gain any weight, sometimes even muscle. It can change what class you dance it, and sometimes the studios kick you out if you get too big."

Kitty remembered a girl back home who'd suddenly got her figure, seemingly overnight, and had been sent home crying for being overweight. Avery, she thought the girl's name had been. She remembered the explanation - No, Kitty, we can't let her stay and burn it off, because then she wouldn't. We don't have fat people in ballet because, when we dance, we throw people in the air, and fat people just don't go as high.

She set her spoon back inside the not-quite-halfway-gone malt, deciding she'd had enough for today.

Peter spoke again after a minute or so, and Kitty popped her cherry into her mouth while he was talking.

"I was sad when you saw that news item."

Somehow, Kitty sensed that this was not going to be a fun conversation. She swallowed her cherry and put the stem down gently, leaning her chin on one hand.

"I know that you and John were once...close friends, and I also know that I was most angry when he left the way he did, particularly when I saw how upset it made you. I wanted to crush his head between my hands for a long time."

Kitty felt a sudden pressure behind her eyes, but forced it back. "So did I," she said, her voice quiet.

They were silent for a moment.

"I always liked you, Kitty. Very much."

She could almost see John over Peter shoulder, mouthing Told you so and laughing at her. Stupid jerk. John, that was. Peter was probably just sticking up for her. Being the big brother.

"I like you too," she said, giving him a tiny smile and hoping the meaning had been what she thought it was, rather than what John had thought it was. "You're a good guy."

After all, he wanted to squish John. He couldn't be all bad.

[tingrin]

"Ah, yes," he said, almost ruefully. "Peter the good guy. Big Pete, everybody's friend. I mean..." He sought desperately for a way to tell her what he wanted to say without making himself sound like a complete idiot.

He failed and went down the emphasis route instead, hoping that she might understand him, thus saving him the potential embarrassment of declaring that he had held a candle for her since he'd first met her.

"I like you, Kitty," he said, carefully. "Very much. And I would not leave you, not the way that John Allerdyce left you. I would like to take you out to the cinema, or out for dinner, or whatever you might like to do."

He had gone bright pink. Normally, when he was embarrassed, he'd choose to armour up and then say that he hadn't been concentrating and his power had kicked in randomly. But he couldn't do that here, not in the coffee shop.

"I like you," he said again, desperately.

[Shadowcat]

"Ah, yes. Peter the good guy. Big Pete, everybody's friend. I mean..."

"What's so wrong with being the good guy?" Kitty asked, getting more and more confused as Peter tried to continue and failed.

"I like you, Kitty. Very much. And I would not leave you, not the way that John Allerdyce left you. I would like to take you out to the cinema, or out for dinner, or whatever you might like to do."

Oh.

So John had been right.

Peter had turned a very interesting shade of pink as Kitty stared at him, big brown eyes even wider than usual; she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him blush before. He just didn't seem like the kind of guy to blush. Maybe it was because he always seemed so much older than the rest of them. But really, Kitty thought, he wasn't so much older at all.

"I like you."

Kitty felt a violent blush appearing on her cheeks as well, now. Since when had she become apparently the Institute's Most Wanted? Well, only John and Peter, actually, but still - she'd never had this attention at home, even if she had been only thirteen or so at the time.

"I..."

Was she really over John? If she wasn't, why had she been blushing all day? Why had she been smiling since just shortly after the newscast - was it because of Peter? She'd barely thought about it. Kitty wasn't the type of girl to get over something like her boyfriend running off to join the Dark Side very quickly. She'd forgotten what a crush felt like. From what she remembered, though - the tightness in the stomach, the lightheaded feeling whenever she did something wrong, the blushing - well, it felt kind of like this.

"I don't know what to say," she said honestly. Despite the usual connotation of the line, one look at her face could tell anyone that she really didn't know what to say.

[tingrin]

"I don't know what to say."

Poor Peter looked dreadfully flustered and stared down at the table. "I rather hoped that you might say 'yes' you would come out to the cinema or for dinner or...whatever you want to do...with me sometime, but I understand if you do not. It is - how do you say in English, no skin off my knees?"

The blush faded and he regained his composure, draining his shake and turning his attention to what was left of the latte.

Yes, John had been right all those months ago when he'd suggested to Kitty that 'Big Pete' had a crush on her. He was observant like that, was John. He never really involved himself with anybody, but he watched. He had watched his fellow students like a hawk, probably waiting for them to expose any weakness that he could use to his advantage.

But Peter was as different to John as day was to night. The big Russian was sunny and polite, sweet natured and honest.

What was not to like?

[Shadowcat]

Oh - oh, poor Peter. She'd upset him, and thus upset herself, and she still couldn't think of a thing to say to make it better.

"I rather hoped that you might say 'yes' you would come out to the cinema or for dinner or...whatever you want to do...with me sometime, but I understand if you do not. It is - how do you say in English, no skin off my knees?"

"Off your nose," Kitty said, smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

Pete finished off his shake, evidently regaining his feet, which was more than Kitty could say, the gears in her head working overtime. The idea that Pete had a crush on her, just months before when John had told her, had seemed so much stranger than it did now - well, stranger in a different way; their situation now was less than normal, at least to Kitty, but it had seemed downright weird back then. Almost a year, she realized. Since then, she'd gotten to know Pete a little better, and of course John had disappeared, and she'd even learned not to burst into tears every time someone lit a candle.

Pete was so sweet, so earnest - strangely reminiscent of those few moments of John that she'd gotten to see, when he'd acted like someone different, not the guy who glared at everyone and refused to speak to anyone who wasn't her, Rogue or Bobby. It had been that part of John that had made her like him so much.

And she was over John. Mostly.

What did she have to lose? If it really was a crush, and she really was almost over John, it'd be great; and if it wasn't a crush, and she wasn't enough over John, it'd hurt like hell, but she had to start somewhere.

"I think," she said carefully, "it'd be nice... to go to dinner or the movies or something. So, um. Yes?"

[tingrin]

She was rewarded with the happiest face she thought she'd ever seen in the big man's face. His eyes lit up like a pinball machine that had just hit the bonus special and he rather shyly reached across the table to take her hand in his.

"That makes me very glad, Kitty," he said in a warm, sincere sort of voice. He'd obviously been working up to this moment for some time. Just how long nobody would ever really know, but it was quite some time.

"Skin off your nose," he added, mentally filing away to add to the other Western phrases that were gradually becoming part of his vocabulary. For the most part, Peter's English was excellent. He'd taken to using colloqualisms and proverbs like a duck took to mercury, however. He invariably got them mixed up, usually with highly entertaining results, such as the time that he had been asked by Bobby if he wanted to come to the hockey game and had replied "wild hornets would not keep me away."

He squeezed her hand gently across the table. "We will go whenever you are ready. And if we go out for dinner, I will make sure you do not eat too much."

[Shadowcat]

Peter's face practically gave off light. Aww. Well, how was she supposed to refuse that? Kitty returned his smile with one of her own, albeit smaller, shier, and surrounded by yet more blushing.

"That makes me very glad, Kitty."

WHY couldn't she stop blushing? Kitty ducked her head forward slightly and some of her hair fell across her face, hiding a lot of her expression, but her fingers curled around his much larger ones.

"Skin off your nose."

"Right," Kitty said, starting to feel more comfortable now that they'd moved away from the Subject. "And there's "by the skin of my teeth," too, but that just means it was a really close shave."

She hoped he knew what a close shave meant, other than the literal translation.

"We will go whenever you are ready.

She fought the urge to laugh hysterically, her nerves amped up on sugar and adrenaline, head still cloudy and confused. "I'm done," she said simply, her stomach still too tight to eat anymore. Gently, she extracted her hand from his and picked up Rogue's purse, digging through it for her wallet and signalling the waiter for the check.

And if we go out for dinner, I will make sure you do not eat too much."

Kitty did laugh at that, feeling herself unwind just slightly. "Good plan," she said, leaving the waiter a generous tip and turning the bill over on top of the money she left. "Are you ready?"

[tingrin]

"Are you ready?"

She had paid the bill and left a tip before he could reach into his pocket. Peter, who had dated one or two of the other Institute girls in the time he'd been there was totally unused to such assertive female behaviour and he managed to look quite shocked. The other girls had been perfectly happy to let the gentlemanly Russian pay for them.

"Yes," he said, eventually, after the shock had settled a little. "Yes, I am ready." He got to his feet and held her coat for her to slip into. At least he could manage THAT much in the way of manners. He also opened the door for her, allowing her to go through first, something John had never got the hang of.

"Which would you prefer?" he asked, companionably. "The cinema? Or go for a walk down by the river, perhaps, and return into the city for dinner?"

[Shadowcat]

Peter looked shocked at the fact that she'd paid. Hadn't she said -?

"I said I would," she said, some of the embarrassment coming back. Now she was starting to remember how bad she was at this... whole thing. "Since I just got my allowance and all."

"Yes. Yes, I am ready."

He held up her coat for her. He was ridiculously sweet. Kitty shrugged into it and pulled out her hair, still smiling like an idiot. Or maybe like a normal person. Normal people smiled all the time, didn't they? He held the door open for her as well, and for once Kitty trusted it. Call her door-jaded, but John had smacked her in the face with them too many times for her to really be sure of door-openers, but she figured Peter probably had it covered.

"Which would you prefer? The cinema? Or go for a walk down by the river, perhaps, and return into the city for dinner?"

Kitty slipped her hand back into Peter's as they walked. She'd forgotten this part, too, how nice it was to have someone just there - not to be alone. "I don't know," she said. "A walk sounds nice."

[tingrin]

"I don't know. A walk sounds nice."

When she slid her dainty little hand into his, Peter looked down at her, treating her to what could only be described as a smile of surprising tenderness. For such a big man, Peter was astonishingly gentle in his attitude and approach.

"There is a nice river path that we can walk," he said, conversationally. The sky overhead was a little grey, but there was no immediate threat of rain in the air that he could sense. A farmer by upbringing, Peter was surprisingly sensitive to the weather. "There are a number of little shops and cafes along the path should we get caught by the rain."

Whatever else, she had made a certain Russian very, very happy.