WARNING:
THERE IS EXPLICIT SEX IN THIS STORY. I marked this clearly in the header. The sex is graphic, but all loving and consensual (and not that much worse than a typical romance novel). If reading sex scenes like that would offend you, please don't read this.

If you want to comment, send email to <luba@lubakmetyk.net>

Part 11 Second Thoughts

Pete Wisdom walked down the hallway of the residential wing slowly, savoring each and every drag off his cigarette. Slowing as he reached the door of Kitty's room, he stopped there and raised his hand to knock, then hesitated.

He didn't know how long he might have stood there in the quiet, empty hallway, lost in thought. But, before anyone came along and asked him what he was up to, Kitty's head appeared suddenly through the still- closed door, startling him enough that his cigarette stub dropped out of his mouth.

Wisdom wasn't distracted enough, though, to miss how the worried look on her expressive face disappeared in a happy smile as she grabbed his arm and yanked him forward into her room, right through the still- closed door, and into a tight hug. "Pete! Where've you been? What took you so long? I've been waiting and waiting -- I wasn't sure you'd know to come here, I was afraid you might head back down to your room, I was wondering if I should have gone there instead. But I really should have gone with you to talk to Kurt. You were right before, and I was wrong -- we should have told everybody at dinner... about us, I mean. But we'll tell them tomorrow, I promise..."

That admission would have thrilled him, just a few hours ago. But now, Wagner had said some things that had made the Black Air agent pause and take a long hard look at what he was about to ask of the young woman embracing him so eagerly. Even though he'd instinctively wrapped his arms around her in turn, Kitty felt the stiff tenseness in his wiry body pressed against hers, and leaned away to look up at his shadowed face. "Pete? What's wrong?"

He couldn't lie to her, not looking into those enormous brown eyes fixed on his worriedly. "Mebbe you were right t' want t' wait, Pryde, an' I were wrong. Mebbe you ought t' rethink us bein' together."

Her whole body seemed to flinch away from him at that. He tightened his loose hold on her instinctively, but she phased free and stepped back to stare at him in shock. Pete kicked himself mentally, remembering how she'd expected rejection earlier that day -- but not now, not after he'd succeeded in making her feel wanted, needed... loved. But his Kitty was a class act; she knew how to handle herself. He could see her bracing herself to accept a brushoff, even as she asked in a low voice, "You're trying to tell me you changed your mind? You don't want me anymore?"

"Of course I still want you, you bloody stupid twit!" His own heart soared at the way her whole expression lightened at his snarl, taking his curse as the compliment it was. "How the bloody hell could I stop? Yer bloody gorgeous, you got more brains 'n anyone I know, an' you got guts t' match. Yer everythin' I could ever want, all in one soddin' perfect little parcel." Giving Pryde a fair chance to back out was one thing, but he was damned if he'd pretend not to care in some half-assed, self- sacrificing effort to push her away.

Kitty took a step back toward him, then jerked herself up short. "Then why...?" Her voice sharpened suddenly. "Did Kurt say something to cause this?"

"Not exactly... well, sort o'..." Wisdom floundered, desperately wishing for a drink and another cigarette. "He... said some things made me think it weren't right fer me t' hook up with you without you knowin' wot a bleedin' mess o' shite you'd be takin' on. I mean, just look at yerself, Pryde. Yer a nice girl, from a nice family -- even if you did get yerself mixed up with the bloody spandex circus bunch. Now take a good, long, hard look at me. Wot I am is a trained liar, thief, cheat an' killer. Nothin' pretty or glamorous or idealistic about wot I been doin' th' past ten years while you been out savin' th' world. An' shit sticks."

"I'm no saint myself, Wisdom, don't you put me up on some stupid pedestal like I'm too good for you or something. I'll trade you horror stories, sometime." He couldn't know what she was thinking of, but her bleak, harsh tone told him she wasn't just saying that to make him feel better. "I think the important thing isn't so much what you did, but why. Did you ever enjoy it?"

"The killin' an' such? Nah. It were just a job wot needed doin'... a job I used t' think needed doin'." It wasn't really a lie, the slight, black-haired Englishman thought to himself -- he didn't *enjoy* dancing the knife-edge. He might *need* the thrill, the danger, he might even be addicted to it, but that was different than the kind of psycho enjoyment Kitty meant -- and going up against Black Air now would provide as much risk as he could possibly need -- and more. Pryde couldn't hold that against him, after all; she was the same kind of adrenaline junkie he was, he'd recognized that right off. But it *was* true, he assured himself once again, that he'd never enjoyed the killing, not even at the beginning -- and especially not the killings of the casually involved and the innocent bystanders; he'd never enjoyed that aspect of his job and, more recently, it had turned his stomach until he couldn't continue.

Kitty might not be able to follow his thoughts word for word, but she could read enough regret in his thin shadowed face that she felt no reason to doubt her judgement of him. "I don't hold your past against you, Pete. You did what you thought was right at the time, and you're honest enough to admit it was a mistake and try to make things right now. That takes guts, and I'm proud of you for that. So, I still want to be with you, and you still want to be with me. So what's the problem, really?"

Thrusting his hands deep into his sagging jacket pockets, Wisdom fingered his pack of cigarettes unconsciously, pulling it partway out, then pushing it out of sight again. "The problem is wot Wagner rubbed me nose in -- you hook up with me, yer in the middle of a friggin' war 'tween me an' Black Air -- an' they play dirty. You, an' yer family, yer mates an' their families could all become targets."

"So suddenly you're going to be all noble and protect the little woman, Wisdom?" Kitty's usually cheerful, happy voice suddenly dripped sarcasm. "That was one of the first things I liked about you, you know -- you might've tried to get rid of me, but you didn't try to shelter me or shield me once the shit hit the fan. I can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much... in case you hadn't noticed."

"Bloody hell, I know that, Pryde," Pete scowled back, irritated at the unjustified accusation when she should have known better. "I ain't worried about whether you can handle yerself." He'd seen her in action, and he knew she lived up to Logan's training -- and he knew just what Logan's training was worth. "I just think it ain't right o' me t' ask you t' be with me without you knowin' the whole score, like. It ain't just me yer takin' on, it's all me baggage with Black Air..."

"Don't forget I went into that base with you, Wisdom. I'm already in the middle -- no, not in the middle... I'm on your side, no halfways about it." Kitty's voice was soft again now, reassuring, and he could see the relieved understanding dawning on her face -- although the velvet tones didn't disguise her usual stubborn determination. "You didn't drag me or trick me into going with you, you even tried to get rid of me quite a few times, as I recall. I went in all on my own because I wanted to go with you. And it's not like it'd be the first time somebody's come after the X-Men or Excalibur; that's not exactly anything new. We wouldn't ignore anybody developing anti-mutant technology, even if you and I... we weren't -- you know... together. And we are -- you're not getting rid of me that easily, you know." She smiled at him a bit shakily, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

"Wot about yer friends, family?" Not that he really gave a tinker's damn about any of them, he told himself, but he didn't want Kitty t' hurt even second- or third-hand, through people she cared for.

The grim look on his face must have convinced her he was serious. "Do you really think they'd go after our families?"

Wisdom shrugged. "No, not usually. Most times, Black Air prefers straightout blackmail -- it's neater, simpler. But, if they can't get nothin' else t' hold over a bloke, threatenin' family makes a possible handle... 'though threatenin' kids is usually a whole damn sight more effective than threatenin' ol' parents -- an' you got just yer parents, right?" He was trying to remember the WHO files he'd read on all the Excalibur members. Scicluna hadn't given him as much time to study the team as he would have prefered before dumping him in the middle of this bedlam -- and Excalibur weren't letting him at their own files just yet.

"Yeah. But we aren't exactly close -- or even in touch, really. My father's been in a witness protection program for years; I don't know where he is now, myself. My mother's been really busy trying to build herself a life of her own after their divorce; she even went back to her maiden name. We only talk maybe once, twice a year, for a few minutes. Do you really think Black Air might be able to find them, go after them?"

She'd taken a step or two toward him, unconsciously, and the forlorn look on her face and the bleak tone in her voice both told him there was something here, some problem related to her parents that needed digging out, and facing. Pete filed that away for later. Emotional danger was a hell of a lot more stressful than physical danger, and Kitty didn't look up to much more emotional stress right now. They'd both gone through a lot the past day or two; in a peculiar way, it was harder trying to get used to being together here on Muir than their whole expedition to Dream Nails had been. He didn't want to downplay the risk of a spite-strike at her relatives, but he didn't want her fretting unnecessarily, either. "Mebbe... mebbe not. Black Air'll wait a bit regardless, t' see wot I... *we* do next. That's why I wanted you t' think about whether this were wot you really want."

Her firm headshake sent a wave of relief through him -- and a flood of pride. "It's not like it'd be the first time somebody tried to use friends and families against the X-Men. I went into that base with you, Wisdom, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. And whatever happens next, I'd rather we face it together."

The relief that she wasn't taking him up on his offer to leave was matched by a sense of wonder, that Kitty was aligning herself with him so completely, and after such a short time together. Wisdom vowed silently he'd do everything in his power to make sure she'd never come to regret her decision. "Wot about others... yer mates, I mean? Anybody else we need t' worry about?"

"My friends are all here in Excalibur, or on the other X-teams... They can all take care of themselves, we don't need to worry about them. Families? You just met Rahne -- she's Moira's only family, now," Wisdom nodded at that -- MacTaggert's WHO files had brief entries on the deaths of her ex-husband and her son, "and Rahne doesn't have anyone else left either. Kurt has Amanda -- you know, you just met her, too?" She waited for another nod. "Amanda's not just Fuzzy's girlfriend, she's his foster sister, too." Kitty ignored Pete's muttered sick comment at that, just giving him a brief glare. "Their mother, Margali, is a sorceress, so we can assume she can take care of herself." And, if Wagner's blood mother really was Mystique, Pete thought to himself, as that Stuart git's notes indicated might be the case... well, there wasn't *anyone* could take better care of themselves than Raven.

He'd pulled out his cigarettes without thinking, then had to force himself to shove the battered pack back into his sagging jacket pocket without having one. That made him grumpy, which made his next question come out in his best sarcastic style. "An' his bleedin' lordship?"

Kitty must have noticed Pete's abortive motion, because she waved a hand at him. "Oh, stop fidgeting and go ahead, Wisdom. I'd still rather you quit, you know, and I don't promise to stop nagging you about your smoking completely, but I guess I can put up with it occasionally."

She was still laughing at the surprised look on his face when he grabbed her and pulled her close for a quick but thorough kiss. Then he let her go and stepped back to take advantage of her unexpected offer before she changed her mind while Kitty resumed, "Meggan has Brian, of course, and Brian has his sister Betsy -- who's a telepath, and a ninja."

And trained by STRIKE back before her X-Men days, Pete recalled. "Ain't there another one o' them bluebloods?"

"Yeah, their brother Jamie." Kitty's voice was hard again, bitter. "But, considering what he did to Alysande, what he did to the rest of us when she was killed, anybody who tries to use Brian's brother is in for a big surprise." Pete nodded slowly at the reminder of Brigadier Stuart being killed -- it had been her death, after all, and her brother's political naivete, that had let Black Air expand into WHO's bailiwick. That Stuart wanker's notes on that housewarming party at Braddock Manor had been bloody useless -- it had been Dai Thomas' official report that had provided all the gory details of the eldest Braddock sibling warping the guests into various insane forms.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette during the subsequent pause, Wisdom choked when Kitty asked, a bit shyly, "What about *your* family, Pete?"

"I'll make some calls t'morrow." His casual shrug belied his inner concern. Wisdom could only hope that Black Air wouldn't bother with his father, knowing the bad blood between them; he'd cursed the old man often enough, loudly and publicly, that Scicluna and her sick bunch might think getting rid of Harold Wisdom would be doing his estranged son a favor. Plus they'd know that messing with a policeman, even a barmy, retired one, would be asking for trouble -- in fact, it might not hurt to drop a few anonymous hints that one of the serial killers' hunter's old targets was planning revenge, somewhere that bloody old sod Thomas would be sure to pick up the rumor.

Romany was definitely at risk, even though he planned to ask Jardine and Constantine to keep a quiet watch over his sister. Jardine and his other mates from the Crown couldn't really do that much officially; Pete had to count on John and his arcane methods -- which were most definitely unofficial, but usually effective. But, besides being a pubmate, John had had a brief fling with Romany years ago, and John acknowledged debts like that.

Pete couldn't believe how touched he was that Kitty had thought to ask about his own family, that she sounded like she cared. But he'd been through an emotional roller-coaster himself today, and he was feeling more than a bit overwhelmed, just as she so obviously was -- especially since he'd brought up the possibility of her family being in danger. Telling her about his own odd relatives could wait. "Look, it's complicated, an' we've had enough fer one day. I'll tell you some other time, ok?"

Continued in Part 12 Coda