Milkshakes and Mutterings

[Shadowcat]

Kitty determinedly did not look back up at Peter - first of all, it would be a heck of a reach, he had to be a foot taller than her; and second, not looking at things meant you couldn't be embarrased by them - she felt his reaction. He was so nice. Most people his size - not to be, er, sizeist - were just brute strength. Some people even below his size, she thought ruefully, thinking of Mr. Logan. But Pete had never relied on his strength unless it was necessary; he was just... nice.

Kitty liked nice people.

"There is a nice river path that we can walk. There are a number of little shops and cafes along the path should we get caught by the rain."

Kitty looked up at the sky, which was a little gray, but nothing too noticeable. "Is it going to rain?" she asked. She'd never been very good at guessing weather. "I mean, we could go somewhere else, like, inside, if it's going to rain."

That would be great. They'd get caught in the rain and it'd be her fault. Did Peter rust?

[tingrin]

He grinned at her.

"I do not believe it is likely to rain for another hour and a half or so," he said. "And if it rains, we will simply have to run. As my father always said to me when I complained about the bad weather, 'Piotr', he would say, 'Piotr Nikolaievitch, what is the matter with you, were you made in a paper factory?' And my sister, little Illyana Nikolovna would laugh at the idea..."

He tailed off.

"I miss my family very much," he said, somewhat redundantly. "At times I wish I had not left Siberia, but if I had not, I would have missed such an opportunity. My father, I think, knew this better than I did."

He had not really spoken much to anybody about his life back home in Russia. They knew he had lived on a farm, one or two of the nosier students had researched it and discovered that it was a collective rather than just a farm. They knew he had a younger sister, but not whether he had any other siblings.

He was really something of an enigma. Wrapped up in 6'6" of warm woollen jumper and slightly-too-short-in-the-leg trousers.

[Shadowcat]

"I do not believe it is likely to rain for another hour and a half or so. And if it rains, we will simply have to run. As my father always said to me when I complained about the bad weather, 'Piotr', he would say, 'Piotr Nikolaievitch, what is the matter with you, were you made in a paper factory?' And my sister, little Illyana Nikolovna would laugh at the idea..."

Kitty giggled at the idea, too, until she noticed Peter's expression.

"I miss my family very much. At times I wish I had not left Siberia, but if I had not, I would have missed such an opportunity. My father, I think, knew this better than I did."

Kitty squeezed his hand. "I miss mine, too," she said. "But they're in Illinois, so at least I can visit on holidays and things..." Not that said visits had been as comforting as they might be. Kitty was beginning to suspect that the little tiffs between her mother and father weren't getting any better; their marriage had been shaky since she started getting headaches, she'd realized a while back, not that her mutation was the cause, but... well, divorce had always seemed like something that happened to other people's parents.

"What's your family like?" Kitty asked, trying to draw him out. She realized, somewhat belatedly, that she didn't know very much of Peter Nik...something... Rasputin. She couldn't even pronounce his first name.

[tingrin]

"What's your family like?"

They strolled along by the river, his hand holding hers as easily and naturally as if he had always been there next to her and he considered his reply carefully.

"My immediate family," he said, eventually, "my mother Svetlana, my father Nikolai, my sister. My parents are elderly now. They had little Illyana late in life and she is the sunshine of their life." His too, judging by how fiercely proud he sounded of her. "I had an older brother, Mikhail, but there was...an accident. He was a cosmonaut with the Russian military." He did not elaborate, he did not need to.

"My parents are becoming frail now and I send them whatever money I can." Like a lot of the students, Peter had an occasional job, in his case, fetching and carrying in a warehouse. He was a literal one-man fork lift. Although that work had dried up since Alcatraz. "I hope to go and visit them sometime soon, but it is a complicated business with visas and passports and all the paperwork...the Professor was going to assist me to apply for American citizenship, but I do not wish to concern Miss Munroe with the problem."

He forced a smile.

"She has problems of her own to deal with right now, I believe."

[Shadowcat]

"My immediate family - my mother Svetlana, my father Nikolai, my sister. My parents are elderly now. They had little Illyana late in life and she is the sunshine of their life."

No wonder he was always writing letters - Peter's affection for his little sister was obvious in his face. Kitty wished, not for the first time, that she had siblings. It hadn't been lonely, exactly, growing up on her own - she'd had her parents and friends; but she'd always liked the idea of a big family.

"I had an older brother, Mikhail, but there was...an accident. He was a cosmonaut with the Russian military."[/b]

But then there was the danger of having siblings - they could be taken away. Poor Mikhail - at least Kitty hadn't been acquainted with too much death yet. She even still had all four grandparents, though the Rosanoffs, on her mother's side, talked sometimes about the family and friends they'd lost in the war.

"My parents are becoming frail now and I send them whatever money I can. I hope to go and visit them sometime soon, but it is a complicated business with visas and passports and all the paperwork...the Professor was going to assist me to apply for American citizenship, but I do not wish to concern Miss Munroe with the problem."

God, how awful to know you might never see your parents again. Her History class had talked extensively about the Iron Curtain and the difficulty of getting into or out of Eastern Europe, even now that the Cold War had been over since the eighties, if you counted the Red Scare of the Nixon regime.

"I don't know," Kitty said. "I think seeing your family is pretty important - I'm sure she'd help."

"She has problems of her own to deal with right now, I believe."

"That doesn't make yours less worth her time," Kitty said staunchly. Not that she was biased at this point or anything. Family had always been big to her. "And even if she can't, you could ask Dr. McCoy - he's in government. He might even be able to do things she can't, now that everyone knows about... about the Institute."

[tingrin]

"...you could ask Dr. McCoy - he's in government. He might even be able to do things she can't, now that everyone knows about... about the Institute."

"That is a very good idea," said Peter, thoughtfully. "I would very much like the chance to visit with my parents. I have not been home for two years and the only way we communicate is through letter and a telephone call once every three months." He smiled, sadly. "Illyana does the writing, neither my mother nor father can. They made sure that Mikhail and I learned and I taught Illyana. She loves to learn English. You would like her, I think."

A little self-consciously Peter became aware that he was doing nothing but talking about himself.

"And what of you? I do not know so much about you, either? Perhaps you could tell me a little of your past?" The sky continued steel grey, but there was still no rain. It was a little on the humid side and Peter idly wondered if they might not be in for a thunderstorm later.

[Shadowcat]

"That is a very good idea. I would very much like the chance to visit with my parents. I have not been home for two years and the only way we communicate is through letter and a telephone call once every three months."

Kitty made appropriate sympathetic faces, secretly pleased that she'd been able to come up with a good idea.

"Illyana does the writing, neither my mother nor father can. They made sure that Mikhail and I learned and I taught Illyana. She loves to learn English. You would like her, I think."

"I'm sure," Kitty said. "How old is she?"

"And what of you? I do not know so much about you, either? Perhaps you could tell me a little of your past?"

Kitty shrugged a little. "There's not that much," she said. "I'm from Illinois, around Chicago - I was an only child in the suburbs. It was just... growing up, I guess. I took a lot of lessons when I was little, dance and figure skating and stuff, and horsemanship, but that was the only really different part."

What was there even interesting to say about Kitty?

"I don't know what there is to tell," she admitted.

[tingrin]

"It is not important," he said, with a smile, squeezing her hand again. "I often find that a good conversation sparks memories."

They had walked quite some distance down the river path now and stood looking in the window of a curio type shop. Peter was admiring a little set of china kittens that were kitsch supreme but which he seemed to find curiously tempting judging by the way he was biting his lip.

"What sort of food would you like to eat?" he asked her, pulling his attention away from the cute little pussy cats with obvious difficulty. "There is a nice Italian, or if you prefer, we could go for something a bit more exotic...there is a Russian quarter that sells fairly authentic Russian food, but well..." He blushed slightly. "It is full of Russians."

[Shadowcat]

"It is not important. I often find that a good conversation sparks memories."

Not when there wasn't anything to remember, but Kitty smiled back, trying to think of something to tell him.

They stopped in front of a little curio shop, full of painted china and blown glass and embroidered things, and Kitty looked in to the back of the shop at a few beautiful blown pieces before noticing that Peter, apparently, was intrigued by the tiny china kittens in the very front of the window display.

She really, really hoped he was just being sweet and thinking of her. Even Kitty's mother thought that china kittens were too twee for the house. Though they were kind of cute, really.

"What sort of food would you like to eat? There is a nice Italian, or if you prefer, we could go for something a bit more exotic...there is a Russian quarter that sells fairly authentic Russian food, but well... It is full of Russians."

"I don't really mind Russians," Kitty said, amused. That and she didn't really want to go back to the Italian place, if it was the same one she was thinking of. She wasn't even sure they'd let her back in, since the last time she'd been her date had set things on fire.

They'd probably know she was a mutant, or at least that she'd been dating one. Good thing she tended to blend into most of the teenage-girl population around Westchester.

"What is Russian food?" Kitty asked. "I mean, food from Russia, obviously. But what do they make there?"

She'd never really thought Russia had a particular cuisine. It was always just sort of "European" in her head. That and she'd always viewed most Soviet countries as subsisting on gruel.

Kitty hoped it wasn't really gruel.

[tingrin]

"Hmm, Russian food." Peter considered as he changed direction slightly, leading her towards the old Russian quarter that he had found within days of arriving in America. "Many of our meals are casseroles, stews - pot meals that many people can share, but there are many delicious things you could try."

He proceeded to launch into a monologue describing the delights of Russian food, sounding like he was quoting from a menu. He told her of Borscht, beetroot soup, of its vivid colour and delicious taste. He DID neglect to mention that it was considered an aphrodisiac. He wasn't entirely sure she would appreciate that little snippet.

"It is pastries that are delicious," he said, his eyes misting slightly. "Ah, baklava."

[Shadowcat]

Many of our meals are casseroles, stews - pot meals that many people can share, but there are many delicious things you could try."

Comfort food, it sounded like, for a cold climate. Kitty'd never really been averse to it, even if comfort food at home was usually either Campbell's or latkes.

Peter began talking about the different wonders of Russian cuisine, describing things that all sounded, to Kitty, a little like sneezes, but when explained sounded pretty good, if strange. She was pretty sure she'd had a beet before in a salad and had a vague picture of them being reddish and rounded, but no other memory of texture or even taste.

"It is pastries that are delicious. Ah, baklava."

"I thought baklava was Greek," Kitty said. "I think I've had it before - nuts and honey?" THAT had been wonderful, at least. If it was a staple of the Russian diet, Kitty was sure she wouldn't mind it... until she figured out the fat content.

Well, it wasn't like Illinois cuisine (if you could call it cuisine) was any better. Corn and wheat and potatoes and red meat, at least you got into Chicago, which did at least have decent pizza, no matter whether she'd sworn it off. Chicago's Greek district was where she'd had baklava and her first gyro, which had sounded decidedly weird (Yogurt? And MEAT?) but had turned out pretty tasty.

[tingrin]

"Yes, baklava is Greek. The owner of the restaurant has a Greek wife and she insisted on putting it onto the menu."

Peter continued to ramble happily as they entered the Russian quarter. He was almost instantly greeted by several people who spoke to him in Russian. Many of them glanced at Kitty and smiled warmly.

The big man kept her hand tightly in his and occasionally glanced down to smile at her, or point something - or someone - out. The restaurant was more like a house than anything else and the woman at the door, a healthy looking, enormously overweight Greek woman beamed with sheer pleasure at the sight of Peter.

"Piotr!" She grabbed hold of him and kissed his cheeks once, twice, three times. Then she did the same to Kitty. "You come inside. Eat. Good food."

Peter leaned down to whisper, "I will tell her to give you smaller portions, but she will not understand you leaving any. Eat up. And enjoy. Food is a fun thing to do. Let yourself go for once, Kitty."

He was surprisingly persuasive as he led her into the restaurant.

[[This wraps from Pete's POV unless Kits has anything to add!]]