DISCLAIMER:
Pryde and Wisdom, the X-men and Excalibur all are trademarks of Marvel Comics. DV8 all are trademarks of Image Comics. John Constantine and other Hellblazer-related characters all are trademarks of DC/Vertigo Comics. This story is an unauthorized work done purely for my personal enjoyment, and is not intended to infringe on any of their rights in or profits from these characters. But this story is copyright to me.

The song referred to in this section is "Shape of My Heart" from Sting's album "Ten Summoner's Tales", and belongs to whomever Sting belongs to.

WARNING:
THERE IS EXPLICIT SEX IN THIS SECTION. I marked this clearly in the individual section 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 3 Fun and Games

Scott came back into the kitchen with the Professor's breakfast tray to find a scene of total chaos. Iceman and Gambit were cleaning up dishes and glasses under Logan's watchful supervision, and complaining about Warren's escape. X-Force had arrived en masse to take over the kitchen, with Siryn bossing Shatterstar and Sunspot in slapdash meal preparation. Domino observed her team's antics with a sardonic gleam in her dark eyes, trading amused glances with Wisdom sitting at the kitchen table stuffing himself happily, as Wolverine prepared him second and third helpings.

Having been well-trained by his wife, Cyclops washed Xavier's special china and utensils and set them to one side, to dry, and returned the tray to its storage place. Then he scanned around the new crowd looking for Nightcrawler, finally spotting him over on one side in a heated dispute with Hank McCoy, with Rahne and Douglock interested witnesses.

"I thought I had made myself clear upon our first evening here, mein freund. Douglock is not to be considered a laboratory specimen brought here for your experiments."

Spotting Cyclops approaching with a disapproving frown on his face, Hank tried to enlist his friend's support. "Please, puissant and fearless leader of mine, assist me in attempting to convince our old colleague that I merely wish to examine Douglock as I would any other team member of unique and fascinating heritage and derivation, and would not have any inclination of treating him as a specimen rather than a new colleague from whom I hope to expand my woefully inadequate knowledge pool of techno-organics in general and the Phalanx in particular."

As Beast paused, even his enormous and well-conditioned lungs requiring an occasional breath, Douglock interjected, "I have indicated that I am quite willing for Dr. MacTaggert's colleague to examine me."

"Very well, then." Kurt was still sensitive to the possibility of Cyclops making decisions about his team, and thought it best to make the decision himself first. "But I wish to be present, to ensure you do not step over reasonable bounds in your examination."

As Beast gave Nightcrawler a wounded look, Summers jumped in. "I came here looking for you, Kurt. I think we need to talk about something else." Seeing Wagner's skeptical look, Cyclops continued, "Believe me, I wouldn't pull you away if I didn't think it was important."

"A'll stay wi' Dougie, Kurt." Rahne volunteered quickly. "A've been thinking aboot the wee bit tha' Lady Moira told us aboot Legacy, an' A'd like verra much t' ask Dr. McCoy some questions." They all realized those were questions she felt uncomfortable asking her foster mother.

"Very well, then." Kurt surrendered graciously, and let Cyclops draw him out of the kitchen into a quiet room while Beast, Rahne and Douglock headed for Hank's laboratory, Rahne explaining what Moira had already told them about her Legacy virus research as they walked along. "What is it you wish us to discuss, Cyclops?"

"Peter," Summers said bluntly. "You saw how upset he seemed this morning, and you know Jean went to talk to him. And we both got the very definite feeling that something more had happened, than what you've told us so far." Seeing a wary look on Nightcrawler's face, Scott continued, "You said Peter was upset to find Kitty with someone else, and that's understandable. But did anything else happen?"

Wagner stayed silent, as Summers waved him to a chair and seated himself opposite. The X-men's senior leader waited a moment or two, then pressed on. "We agreed yesterday, that Peter needs to open up about his problems, and that Jean and I would talk to him today. Jean did earlier this morning, you saw that, and I want to try now. Then the three of us can sit down together and discuss it later, after she gets back. But it won't help us help Peter if we don't have all the facts."

Kurt sighed and gave in. "If you really must insist upon knowing our dirty linen, Cyclops, Peter attacked Herr Wisdom upon his arrival on Muir, and beat him near to death."

"What?!" Whatever Summers might have been expecting, Kurt's bald statement sounded much worse. "You'd better tell me what happened. Or, better yet, let's go to the Professor's office and you can fill us both in."

"No!" Kurt interrupted, then went on, more calmly. "Peter was most concerned that the Professor and Ororo not learn what happened, and I gave him my word we would keep the matter confidential. I will tell you, since you insist, but I would like to speak with Peter and the others, and Moira also, before spreading the matter further."

"All right, Kurt, I can respect that. I won't tell anyone until you tell me it's ok... except Jean, of course." Everybody knew better than to suggest Cyclops try to keep something from his wife.

Wagner took a deep breath, then started abruptly. "We'd gone out that evening, to the local pub on the mainland at Wisdom's suggestion, and I must admit, it was a good idea. Moira needed a rest from her research, and we all had a very pleasant time. That was when he and Kitty told us about their new relationship and we agreed he would join the team. We returned to Muir very late, and Herr Wisdom stayed outside for a cigarette while the rest of us went in." Kurt paused, then continued reluctantly. "I'm not sure exactly what warned us... We thought we heard a noise... Kitty felt something was wrong with Pete... I 'ported outside, and found Peter attacking Wisdom. He'd arrived to see them kissing, just before the rest of us went inside, and then waited to catch him alone."

Scott's concerned expression was evident even though his ruby quartz glasses hid his eyes. "Well, that was an unfortunate misunderstanding, and Peter is obviously much the bigger and stronger of the two, but Wisdom is supposed to be an experienced agent, after all. He should have been able to defend himself, even if he was drunk and off guard."

"Yes, Wisdom was somewhat inebriated but certainly not incapacitated. And yes, he was taken completely off guard... But, Cyclops, you still do not truly understand. I found Peter beating Wisdom while in his armored form. No amount of combat or mission experience could help flesh and blood stand against the battering ram of Colossus' living steel."

Cyclops winced at the picture Nightcrawler was presenting. "Didn't Wisdom fight back all? He has powers too, after all, besides his training and experience."

"I do not know exactly what happened before I arrived, but I have noticed Wisdom reluctant to use his powers, seemingly a relic of Black Air's misuse of them. But, when Kitty rushed out to try to stop Peter, I did see Wisdom force himself up to get a shot off, trying to protect her..."

"But hadn't you stopped Peter already? And explained things to him?" Scott was finding Kurt's succinct description of events somewhat confusing.

"He ignored me completely, when I tried to stop him, tell him Wisdom was one of ours. Peter turned on me, Cyclops, and attacked me, also, throwing me away when I tried to restrain him, when Wisdom was already lying broken on the ground..." Summers could hear the raw pain in Kurt's voice as he remembered Colossus hurling him aside like a rag doll, an emotional scar at his friend's unthinking attack rather than the memory of any physical pain. "Brian and Meggan finally took Peter down, and Moira performed a true miracle, drunk as she was and injured as Wisdom was, to save him..."

"Why didn't you tell us? You sounded funny when you called to tell us Peter had arrived, but you said you were just tired, that it had been a hectic evening..."

Kurt sighed again, slumping down dejectedly in his chair. "I told Peter that I wouldn't, that we'd try to keep it among ourselves. Peter seemed so lost, so disoriented... We had to put him in a holding cell, with an inhibitor collar... He was so upset about what the Professor and Ororo would think, when I went to talk to him, and my heart went out to him... I could not hold him completely responsible, I wondered if we were not all partially to blame, to allow Peter to come to such a state through our benign neglect of all his troubles... We were all in shock, still, and perhaps I made the wrong decision, but then I had to keep my word..."

Scott reached out, to grasp his friend's arm in silent commiseration. He, better than most of the others, knew the burden of making a decision and then having to live with the endless doubt of whether it was the right decision. "But isn't it terribly difficult, having Peter with you? With Wisdom there, also, and with Kitty and Pete being together?"

Straightening up in his chair, Nightcrawler shook himself briskly. "It is awkward, I will not deny that. One minute everything is fine, and Peter and Kitty and I are playing football together as in the old days. Then she is with Wisdom, and Peter becomes quiet, but he is watching them together. Wisdom acts as though nothing happened, but I see him wary of Peter, constantly, as if waiting for another rampage."

Cyclops shook his head at the situation. "Can't you ask Kitty and Pete to be more discreet? They do seem to be parading their relationship, almost rubbing Peter's nose in it..."

Kurt, the swashbuckling romantic, couldn't hold back his fond smile. "I do not think they are even aware of Peter at those moments, Scott, or of any of the rest of us, either, although they are somewhat more subtle and discreet back on Muir. I believe their blatant behavior here may simply be a response to the opposition and disapproval they sense..." Seeing Cyclops open his mouth in denial, Nightcrawler held up a hand to keep the other silent as he continued "...rightly or mistakenly. And it is not my place or desire to spoil things for either of them, suggesting they hide their relationship, and I hope no one else attempts to do so."

"You have accepted Wisdom then, Kurt, it sounds like, both on the team, and with Kitty. And as a friend?" Summers sounded prepared to accept Nightcrawler's opinion, and value it.

Kurt nodded thoughtfully. "As I told you yesterday, Scott, Pete has fit into the team surprisingly well. And, as I tried to tell Ororo before that, I truly believe he is good for Kitty. Yes, I would have to admit that I have come to consider him a friend although, of course, not one to whom I am as close as I am to Peter, who took Stefan's place for me as the beloved brother I never had by birth. But Peter now must learn to accept, and cope, and let go. Perhaps having his nose rubbed in it, as you so elegantly put it, is better than coddling him as we have been doing ever since his arrival."

Wisdom ignored the bustling chaos of X-Force's breakfast preparations as he pushed his chair back from the table with a replete sigh. He was just pulling out his cigarettes while staring at his empty coffee mug, pondering the possibility of another cup, when Domino came up behind him silently and whacked him on the back of his head. "Up and at 'em, runt. I told you, I want to see for myself if you can still cut the mustard."

"Shove off, Dom." Pete grumbled. "I finally got fed good, first time since bein' dropped in th' middle of this friggin' spandex zoo, an' all I want now is a fag an' some rest." He tilted his head around to leer at her pointedly. "'Sides, I already had me exercise fer this mornin', with a lot cuter sparrin' partner than an ol' battleaxe th' likes o' you. An' I ain't about to perform no tricks for the bleedin' cheerin' masses."

Overhearing the exchange, the members of X-Force gradually fell still, eagerly waiting for their mysterious mentor to flatten the visitor. But Domino simply smiled at him sardonically. "I didn't recall offering you a choice, Wisdom." She glanced over at Logan, who was grinning at them both while conscientiously clearing his cooking supplies out of the way of the incoming crowd. "Take him outside for a few minutes, while I get the room set up. Let him smoke if he's stupid, or warm up if he's smart, then drag him back in." Turning back to Wisdom, she continued implacably. "Just to keep you satisfied, runt, Logan will monitor, and keep everyone else out. After all, I wouldn't want my team picking up any bad habits watching you screw up."

After Wisdom had smoked two cigarettes and vainly pumped Logan for information on what Domino might have in mind, the Canadian escorted him back inside, where they met Cable's enigmatic lieutenant in front of the control room. Logan went inside, while Domino walked Wisdom a short distance down the halls, and into the danger room itself.

As she turned to manipulate some controls near the massive bulkhead door, he looked around the large empty room. "So what's the soddin' big deal about this place, anyway?" But, before Pete could continue his bitching, the room blurred and he stood in a completely different place, with some quite unpleasant memories for him, the central Magistrates' armoury in the Genoshan capital where he'd first met Domino years ago.

He couldn't see Domino anymore, but her voice came floating to him. "You know, Wisdom, I've always wondered if you were really that good, or just plain lucky. See you down in the holding cells... maybe."

"Bloody hell," he muttered, automatically withdrawing into a deeply shaded corner of the hallway while checking for any signs of life nearby, human or electronic. "Should have guessed she'd turn this rock over." He suppressed a wince, feeling a conspicuous target in his white shirt; that other time he'd snuck through here he'd had his dark trenchcoat to help him blend into the shadows and gloves to avoid leaving telltale prints.

Domino hadn't told him any groundrules, but he assumed from her last comment that his goal was the same as before -- find her and get her out, preferably without leaving any evidence for the friggin' Magistrates to figure out that he'd been involved in any way or Scicluna would have his head, if the Genoshans bothered leaving anything for her. He stood in the shadows for a while, just thinking and getting oriented. He was in the large front entryway, just outside the officers' wardroom, on the ground floor, not that far from where he'd started out before. And the prisoner holding cells were in the far back end of a sub-basement, deliberately located far from any exits as a security precaution. It only took Wisdom another moment or two to recall the detailed blueprints he'd studied years ago and to start out following the same route, keeping a wary eye out for any nasty surprises and traps set for him along the way, even as his mind insisted on replaying the past as he slithered along, hugging the wall.

Scicluna had sent him to all kinds of hellholes during his years with Black Air, but Genosha was definitely one of the worst. Not because of poverty or disease or filth or crowding -- it was a veritable showplace of modern architecture and engineering constructs, everything visitors could see seeming shiny new and squeaky clean. Everything, that is, except the people. Pete still didn't know which he had hated the most, the little tin-plated dictators who got off pushing the mutate slaves around, or the petty army of paper-shuffling bureaucrats who didn't even notice mutates except as inventory items on their forms, or the vast mass of citizenry who considered mutates as just part of their furniture or landscape, never bothering to question how the country's prosperity was maintained.

And Wisdom wasn't popular in Genosha, either. His powers and his position with Black Air gave him official rank equivalent to a Magistrate, but the Genoshan Magistrates sneered at him and his reluctance to use his powers to join in their games. The humans running the government were very skittish around him. They looked at the rumpled, innocuous, slightly ridiculous figure, and sensed a rogue mutate who could destroy them all on a moment's whim, and was often tempted to do exactly that.

Hearing some faint sounds approaching, Pete ducked behind some crates stacked in an empty sideroom just seconds before a patrol passed along the hallway, a patrol he hadn't encountered that first time. So, now he knew for sure -- either Domino or Logan was making up new obstacles rather than trying to match actual events. But he'd expected just that. After all, he'd never bothered to tell Domino exactly how he'd gotten to her cell, and he certainly hadn't described this particular self-imposed mission to anyone else. He waited a few moments to be sure the patrol had cleared the area, then went on, smiling grimly. It all seemed so real that Wisdom could feel the old heady excitement rising at the challenge, swamping his original foul mood at being dragooned into this training session, and at being thrust back into one of the places he'd detested most.

He'd stormed into Scicluna's office once, after a particularly trying stay in Genosha, demanding to know why she kept sending him back there, where he didn't want to go and where he wasn't wanted either, refusing to go back any more, to do anything to help keep that cesspit going, telling her to send somebody like Scratch instead, who'd likely consider the place paradise on earth. She'd glared back at him for a few moments, letting the silence deepen, before replying, her tone showing her irritation at being challenged. "I need an honest view of the situation there, from someone I can trust not to simply buy off on the government's propaganda. So you will go back there, Wisdom, whenever you are ordered to do so." She sensed his rebellion, and went on before he could protest any further. "But I won't expect you to follow any orders they try to give you, I'll make that clear to them, or to volunteer for anything you find repugnant while you're there, and I don't care what you might get up to on the side, as long as you're discreet. Although I find the Genoshans often useful allies, we don't need to make things too easy for those smug bastards, after all."

After dodging two more patrols, Wisdom gave up on the hallway that had taken him deep within the armoury in the past, and struck out on a new route, hoping Domino hadn't mucked with the geography of the building itself. Holding those old blueprints firmly in mind, he climbed a utility ladder to get to a network of catwalks crisscrossing a wide maintenance bay which filled much of the middle of the ground floor, large enough to service equipment too big or too heavy to be moved to another floor by lifts. He was gambling that taking to the heights would keep him out of the way of more patrols, give him a good view of anything approaching, and let him get much nearer his goal, the back part of the armoury on the far side of this main repair station and its web of bordering storage rooms, many of them containing advanced weaponry and other devices obtained from Black Air.

She'd often sent him to Genosha, delivering and picking up equipment, watching and reporting back on field tests. But, with unspoken permission from the devious Scicluna, he'd spent most of his free time on his own, exploring the capital city and the surrounding countryside, the further away from official circles the better. Pete fit in better there, anyway, passing himself off without too much deception as a low-level grunt whose company had sent him to Genosha, a job assignment which he obviously and passionately hated. He gradually discovered masses of interesting, useful information that he carefully kept to himself. He could have made several fortunes collecting rewards posted by the Genoshan government with just a small fraction of what he found out, while raising his own standing among the Magistrates immeasurably, but the thought never crossed his mind, even when he didn't much like the goings-on of the other side, either.

He'd avoided the free-mutate terrorist cells like the plague, small groups of mutates who'd escaped or been broken out before the process was complete, whose only goal was destroying the ruling structure, with no concern about what might replace it. Wisdom hated their random violence, which killed many more innocents than civil servants, and more clerks and street troops than anyone important, in any real decision-making position. Sure, he despised the general complacency that let the ordinary citizen live happily with all the material advantages provided by the mutates, but he cringed away from blowing up a schoolful of children just because a few of the parents worked for the genegineer. And he sneered at the futile efforts of the pitifully few placard-waving protestors who occasionally turned up at public functions, earnest yet ineffectual visionaries usually chased away viciously by security forces before anyone noticed their slogans and banners, although in the privacy of his own mind he had to acknowledge and admire their courage.

Hearing a loud argument up ahead of him, Wisdom slowed down to inch along the catwalk, trying to minimize any metallic groan or squeal whose sound might echo through the enormous warehouse to the group below, busy debating what was wrong with an ailing tank's engine. He tried to vary his movements to include bursts of speed whenever the group seemed in the middle of a loud exchange, forcing himself to move along quietly crouched low on the catwalk despite the exhilarating singing in his blood at the possibility of being spotted. His original plan had a tight schedule, and Pete figured Domino had no reason to relax that particular constraint. He put enough distance between himself and the group eventually to pick up his pace again, although he knew he couldn't relax his vigilance for more such obstacles despite the few troops working this late shift. Domino had at least stayed true to the original scenario in that respect -- most of the troops had been out on a special raid that evening, on one of the many small underground resistance groups.

During his private research, Wisdom had found a few resistance groups in Genosha that he couldn't categorize quite so easily. One in particular had interested him. A woman whose two brothers and boyfriend had all been taken by the genegineer's troops had started a program to test children secretly before the official trials, and to smuggle the families out if the tests proved positive. Some deep part of Pete had to respect a family that cared enough about its kids not to just give them up passively, any family willing to abandon everything and start a new life elsewhere to keep its kids from being turned into mutate slaves. Her group couldn't save many, of course, but each and every one they got out was one more individual saved from this hellhole, and Wisdom figured it mattered a hell of a lot to those particular individuals. She charged an enormous fee from those who could afford it, but Pete knew she had helped a number of poor families also.

He finally reached the other side of the cavernous maintenance bay and started down a ladder to the floor, when he heard a cry of "Hey, you, just what do you think you're doing? Get down here right now." Pushing aside panic, staying calm, Wisdom mumbled an agreement and kept his face turned away as he descended while the other man approached, then lashed out backwards with his foot and struck the man suddenly in the temple, exactly as he'd planned, thanking whatever god might be watching for the man's arrogant carelessness. Pete paused for a moment, straining all his adrenaline-heightened senses for any sign someone else might have noticed the incident, before checking and finding the man still alive. Debating with himself whether he should risk leaving him that way, he decided the trooper hadn't seen his face, and his head injury would probably keep him out for a very long time. But he did take an extra few moments to empty out an open packing crate nearby and bundle the limp body away inside and out of sight, before ducking into the side stairwell he'd been aiming for. Once there, he raced down below, knowing he was particularly vulnerable to discovery in such small enclosed places, by the few maintenance staff left or by troops straggling back in from the abortive raid.

Dining in the Magistrates' mess one day, he'd overheard that they'd found the underground laboratory and were going to raid it that night. He managed to get an anonymous warning out to the woman in charge that afternoon, and the people and records were saved, but precious equipment gathered over time had to be abandoned, destroyed to cover the rescue of the staff and the information. And Pete felt vaguely responsible, even though he hadn't given them away and he'd been the one who warned them.

Then he found out he'd only known half the story. There'd been a raid on the underground network smuggling people out, also. Two families, parents and a gaggle of kids of various ages, were caught at the boat hired to take them away offshore to a waiting tanker that was willing to carry an unofficial bit of extra cargo. The mercenaries hired to pick them up had done their jobs, and stood and fought, and the refugees had successfully been gotten away. But several of the troops had been killed and their leader, the notorious mystery woman known only as Domino, had been captured covering the families' escape. The debate in the central dispatch center had been quite fierce, whether to execute her, turn her into a mutate, or sell her to Tolliver the arms smuggler for the large reward he'd posted, almost as heated as the argument about whether she was too dangerous for any fun and games before any of those ultimate ends.

While he'd listened to the Magistrates celebrating their latest coup, realizing they were covering up all their frustrated chagrin at the failed raid by boasting of capturing such a notorious prize, Wisdom had decided on the spur of the moment that he'd get her out, just to enjoy the looks on their smug bastard faces the next day.

Entering the shopping mall, Kitty's eyes lit up as she spotted an enormous bookstore, with an equally huge computer store visible further along the mall, and she started heading directly for the bookstore, which was the nearer of the two.

Rogue grabbed her by the arm. "Where ya rushin' off ta, sugah? We're supposed to be buyin' some goodies for ya, so don't ya run off on us."

"And that bookstore must be absolutely full of goodies I want to take back with me -- there must be tons of great new books here that haven't made it to Britain yet, and I don't get into the big cities to shop very often. And I want to go hit that computer store, too." But, as Rogue continued to tug insistently at her, Kitty sighed in mute deprivation and promised herself she'd come back here before going home, even if it had to be by herself, and stock up properly. And she wanted time to testdrive the latest computer equipment available also, to plan the elaborate new system she was sure she'd get soon, either from Pete or from Meggan, even if she did eventually end up buying through a mail-order outfit.

"That's not quite the kind of shopping we had in mind, Kitty." Betsy had started moving off to the side and now looked back over her shoulder, smiling at Kitty.

"With Pete around, how on earth do you have any free time left to read books, or anything else?" Jean teased Kitty as she came up on her other side and helped Rogue steer her away, following Betsy.

Rogue chuckled warmly. "Yeah, sugah, ya tryin' ta tell us ya'd rather go play with a computer than with that cute guy of yours?"

Kitty glanced over at Meggan, and the two burst into laughter. After a moment, Kitty noticed the others' raised eyebrows and questioning looks and explained, "Pete complains about that, all the time," which had the others joining in the mirth.

"Well, we're gonna buy y'all some goodies anyway, even if ya don't really need any help keepin' ol' Pete interested." This shopping trip had been Rogue's inspiration originally, after all, and she had no intention of giving up her great idea.

"Yes, it never hurts, to have a little extra insurance, just in case." Betsy managed to say that with a perfectly straight face, before breaking up into giggles, which proved contagious.

Jean, still in the lead, pushed open the doors of a lingerie store. "Ladies, we have arrived. And let us remember we are looking for things for Kitty, even as we find things for ourselves." She held the door open until the others, with an unusually silent Storm at the rear of the group, had passed inside, Kitty still staring back over her shoulder longingly at the receding bookstore.

"And I shall start." Betsy announced grandly. "Come with me, Kitty, and lets's see what we find. The rest of you can go browse for your own ideas. I do not want to be distracted, and miss inspiration striking." Her smile took the sting out of her preemptory dismissal, and the others moved away obediently, knowing Betsy took her shopping very seriously.

She proceeded to prove them correct in that opinion, dragging Kitty from rack to rack, holding up a wide variety of sexy outfits against her trapped victim, narrowing her eyes in study and then discarding each item with a snort. A saleswoman approached briskly, then slunk away at Betsy's imperious glare.

Betsy's behavior was starting to make Kitty self-conscious about her appearance again. Whether she sensed that or not, Betsy suddenly gave an exclamation of pleasure while holding up a black silk corselet. "Yes, I do believe this is just the thing... and matching panties, of course... not a thong, I don't think, not quite your style, tap pants would be a bit more subtle..."

Overhearing Psylocke, Rogue came ambling over, to find out what had succeeded in meeting Betsy's exacting standards. "Oh, yeah, sugah, that's great." Rogue smirked. "But Ah wanna be there, when good ol' Pete gets an eyeful o' ya in that hot li'l number."

"And tight, tight jeans with this," Betsy was muttering to herself, still in a fashion trance, "...in very soft stone-washed denim, I think, not those baggy things you usually wear. And don't you tell me loose is comfortable, we're aiming for sexy and sultry instead. Trust me, Kitty, the effect on Pete will be worth a bit of discomfort... So we'll get you some very tight jeans at our next stop. And high-heeled dressy sandals, those you had on at dinner the first night should do nicely. Any higher and you'd tower over Pete, which might or might not bother him..." Betsy noticed Rogue and Kitty staring at her, and smiled back, acknowledging she did tend to get carried away. "Have you decided what you'll get Kitty, Rogue?"

"Ah just thought, seeing that," she gestured at the outfit Betsy was still holding, "maybe a pair o' long black silk gloves, t' match?"

"Oh, lovely, the perfect final touch," Betsy congratulated Rogue. "It'll help highlight the white of her shoulders and neck..." Seeing an odd look on Kitty's face, Betsy smiled reassuringly. "Trust us, Kitty. Yes, it may sound a bit odd, but your man will adore it. Taking off the gloves can be very alluring, if you do it slowly and sensuously, or you could keep them on and just take everything else off." Betsy smiled wickedly at Kitty's sudden furious blush, not realizing she'd reminded the young girl that there were indeed some definite advantages to wearing gloves while making love, as Pete had taught her just the previous day.

"Now, if you will excuse me, Kitty, I need to go find Meggan. If I don't watch her, she picks things that she thinks Brian will like, even though she doesn't really like them herself. Then she feels awkward later wearing them around him and can't help projecting her own discomfort onto him unconsciously. I'd like to make sure she gets herself something that she feels good in, and try once again to convince her that Brian will be attracted if she feels attractive." Betsy took the corselet and panties along with her as she headed for her brother's fiancee, while Rogue took Kitty to try on gloves, which didn't take long with Rogue's experience.

Jean came over to join them, at Betsy's mental call, just as Rogue settled on a pair of black silk opera length gloves that fitted Kitty perfectly. As Rogue continued to root around among the gloves, Kitty noticed a short camisole slip and matching wrap of rich sky blue silk with navy and silver lace trim. As Kitty fingered the material, Jean asked, "It's a beautiful outfit, and a wonderful color for you. Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes," Kitty sighed, softly. "It reminds me of something very similar I... ummm... borrowed from Rachel's things not too long ago." Jean saw a delicate blush creeping across Kitty's cheeks.

"Then let me get that for you." Jean took the outfit from the rack, and held it up against Kitty. "I'd like to get you something that reminds you of Rachel. And you don't have to be uncomfortable mentioning her name around me. I miss her too, you know."

"I know that." Kitty smiled back. "I remember how happy Ray was, when you and Scott were finally getting married, and you asked her to the wedding, as a part of the family." A faint cloud passed across Kitty's face, as she couldn't help but remember another wedding, some time ago.

Jean could see the problem, easily. "You know, Kitty, I think we should get together for a long talk, just you and I, sometime before you leave. There are some things about Rachel I'd like to tell you, and a lot about her I'd like you to share with me. And I know how close you were to Madelyne, I do have her memories, after all. I don't want you to feel so uncomfortable being around me, like just now, when I mentioned Rachel. I know it took me a while to accept her, but I just hated that feeling that my future was predetermined..." Jean's voice suddenly petered away as she realized some of the X-men were doing the same to Kitty, insisting she was destined to be with Peter.

"Oh, it's not that." Kitty exclaimed, then went on, more hesitantly. "Well, that's part of it. And maybe you're right, maybe we should talk about Maddie, sometime. But I was just remembering..." Her blush was back, and more vivid. "You see, that outfit reminded me of something similar I borrowed from Rachel's things not too long ago, for my first time with Pete..."

"Did he like it?" Jean couldn't resist, and smiled as Kitty's blush deepened even more while she nodded wordlessly. "Then I insist on getting it for you. Sounds like it'll be a nice reminder of Rachel, and of Pete, and maybe of me too, and hopefully of many more good memories to come."

Just then, Storm came over to join them. "See, I have found you the perfect gift, Kitten." She held up a floor-length, long-sleeved robe and pajamas set, of dusty pink flannel. "The weather on Muir Island can get quite chilly quite often, as I recall. I do not like to see you reduced to using your Mr. Wisdom's dirty laundry as your night clothing."

"His name's Pete, Ororo. And he doesn't make me wear his stuff -- I happen to like wearing his shirt, it's like having him close to me." Kitty saw Jean staring at her intently, and moderated her snappish tone. "But you're right, Ororo. It can get cold back on Muir, and I'm sure this could come in very useful." She reached out to rub the thick cloth in her hand. "It's a wonderful fabric, very soft and pleasant to feel. And Pete usually stays really close by, so I don't really need any other reminder of him." Jean tried to suppress her chuckle at that last bit.

"And it is all-natural cotton, which can be washed quite frequently, to get any noxious odors out." Ororo smiled blandly. "Except, of course, you claim to welcome Mr. Wisdom's rather unique... fragrance, Kitten."

Jean didn't know whether to laugh at Storm or shake her, but she was quite sure that Ororo would resent either response. So she had to content herself with transmitting a mental picture of Storm's contribution to Rogue and Betsy, while biting her tongue to keep the giggles in.

As Kitty tried to come up with some additional appreciative remarks, Betsy and Rogue came strolling up to rejoin the group, their arms full. "Oh, look what we found, Ororo," Betsy cooed. "Didn't you once own an outfit just like this? We thought you might like to get this for Kitty, to remind her of you." And she triumphantly held up a sexy biker-babe outfit of black leather trimmed with silver chains, smirking at Storm's icy glare as Kitty and Jean and Rogue dissolved into laughter.

"What did you get, Betsy?" Jean wanted to distract Ororo's attention from Kitty. "Is there anything here that even comes close to matching your usual costume?" She smiled, sending the other telepath a mental apology.

The former model took that little barb in good spirits, understanding Jean's motive, and proudly held up a shimmering violet cascade. It was a floor-length nightgown and robe set, also, and with long sleeves, but it was the opposite of the demure flannel set Storm had picked for Kitty, since it was made of a soft gauze fabric that was quite transparent, as was the delicate openwork lace trimming it.

"That should make ol' stick-in-th'-mud Warren sit up an' drool," Rogue remarked approvingly. "What about you, Meggan?"

Their other visitor shyly held up the outfit Betsy had helped her select, a short, sleeveless tunic in spring green, with white and yellow and orange and rust threads forming embroidered leaves and entwining branches in wide bands at the gathered waist and yoke, then blushed with pleasure at the admiring exclamations.

As the others turned to her expectantly, Rogue began counting on her fingers, which were barely visible under a mass of fabric and packages. "Well, first, Ah got me a whole passel o' new gloves, an' Ah found this nice whole-body stocking Ah liked, so Ah got me a whole bunch, in green an' garnet an' black an' some other neat colors, too, an' then Ah found this petticoat, same shade o' garnet wit' a white lace flounce an' green ribbon trim, an' i found this matching camisette top, just in black with a garnet flounce an' th' same green ribbon trim. It just all went t'gether so well Ah couldn't resist, even though Ah'm blamed if Ah know where Ah'll wear it all..." But Rogue knew she wouldn't get too much teasing from the others for indulging herself, even if her list did seem to be the longest. She was just being a good sport and buying for her own pleasure, after *all. It would have been both painful and unfair for her to shop with the conscious intent to attract a man and then have to hold herself back from him. "So, what'd ya get, Jeannie? What's ol' Cyke got ta look forward ta, tonight?"

They were all surprised to see Jean flush, which only made them all more determined to know what she'd gotten. Realizing there was no escape, Jean sighed and held out her selections, a tight bustier in black lace with low-cut demi-cups in the bra portion and a matching garter belt, together with a package of black stockings. "And I assume you have very high-heeled black shoes back at the boathouse to wear with that?" Betsy leered, while Rogue and Kitty grinned and Storm frowned. Noticing the disapproving expression, Betsy changed targets smoothly. "Did you find anything you liked, Ororo?"

"I asked the salesgirl where I might find some wholesome undyed cotton underwear, and she suggested another store." And the others all tried to stifle their laughter yet again.

Cyclops wandered around the mansion for a while, checking systems that didn't need checking, trying to digest what Kurt had told him. He was already regretting he'd agreed not to discuss the information with anyone except Jean, wishing he could just go hand off the whole problem to the Professor. She could sense his disturbance through their link, just as he could sense the pleasure she was having in their shopping spree, and Scott sent her a strong impression of patience, that it would wait until she got back without cutting short their outing.

But there was still one person Scott could legitimately talk to, and he began a much more systematic peregrination of the mansion, looking for Colossus. He didn't find Rasputin in any of the many communal areas, and everyone he asked denied any knowledge of the young Russian's whereabouts.

Summers had left the obvious for last, knowing it would be hard to cover his concern and avoid questions. When he finally returned to the Professor's office and asked, Xavier told him that he could sense Peter alone in his guest room. Responding to a raised eyebrow, Scott said a bit uncomfortably, "We all agreed yesterday that Jean and I would try to talk to Peter sometime today, sir. You know the results of Jean's effort, and how concerned she was. I just thought that I should try to follow up while the iron was still hot."

Xavier nodded slowly. "Do you wish me to monitor you?"

Even though he definitely wanted to discuss Kurt's revelations with Xavier, Scott also wished to honor Nightcrawler's strictures about Peter's needs for privacy and confidentiality, at least for the time being. "With all due respect, sir, I think I'd rather you didn't." Cyclops definitely didn't want the Professor in his mind right now, not until Jean helped him shield and protect Kurt's news. "I'm not quite as experienced as Jean, and I'm afraid Peter might sense something. And I don't want him feeling we're ganging up on him, or conspiring against him." With another nod from Xavier, he turned and left the office.

Reaching the guest room assigned to Rasputin, Summers knocked on the door, waited a while, then knocked again, more loudly, while calling out, "Peter, it's Scott. Are you in there?" He could hear some muffled sounds in the room, then Colossus calling back, "I will come, Cyclops, in a very few moments."

Inside, Peter was trying to gather up his drawing pad and supplies hurriedly, yet carefully, and looking around for a suitably large and flat place to hide them away. He wasn't ready for anyone else to see his new work, which he'd resumed soon after settling in on Muir Island. Stymied for a convenient location large enough to hold his oversized sketch pad, he finally lifted the mattress up off the bed, lay his drawing pad down and covered it up by replacing the mattress, straightening the bedlinen as he heard Scott knocking a third time.

"Hello, Peter. May I come in?" Summers tried to keep his tone friendly and conciliatory, while at the same time making clear there was only one acceptable answer, a considerable challenge he managed to meet. "We haven't really had a chance to talk since you came and, Jean being out shopping, I thought this might be a good opportunity."

Rasputin stood aside to allow Cyclops to enter, but remained silent, offering Summers no help in beginning the conversation.

"Kurt told me, about what happened between you and Wisdom." Scott sounded a bit unsure, worried about Peter's reaction to that apparent betrayal of confidence. "But it wasn't Kurt's idea, Peter, believe me. I trapped him, and insisted he tell me, and I haven't told anyone else."

There was a sudden, sharp crack as the drawing pencil Rasputin had been holding absent-mindedly in his hand broke in two as he tightened his grip convulsively. "Kurt should not have told you, as he reassured me the X-men need not know. But, if he did choose to so betray my confidence, he should have also told you, as I told your wife earlier, Scott, that it was merely an unfortunate misunderstanding. I saw her with a strange man, and I thought he was molesting Katya..."

"Kurt said they all came back in a group, that it would have been obvious Pete was with Excalibur, that he even tried to tell you Wisdom was part of the team." Scott wished Nightcrawler had been a bit less reticent about the details earlier. "And you know nobody could hassle Shadowcat that way, if she didn't want. She could always either phase away or fight back, depending on how mad she might be."

It was a long moment before Peter answered. "All the time I was on my way to Muir, I kept telling myself that my Katya was waiting for me... Then I saw them together... I was so sure it had to be a mistake, some misunderstanding... I thought he was forcing himself on her..." His tone dropped lower and lower, until he was nearly inaudible at the end.

In the uncomfortable silence following Rasputin's last words, Summers went on, doggedly. " Attacking Wisdom was a mistake, Peter, but mistakes don't have to be permanent. You can just admit you were wrong, apologize and then move on."

"Attacking Wisdom was not my mistake, Scott, I made my mistake a long time ago, and it is too late to apologize." Staring out the window rather than looking directly at Cyclops, Rasputin sighed heavily. "Leaving home to follow another man's dream, no matter how noble, was the single worst choice of my life. When Gospodin Xavier first came to me, to ask me to go away with him to America, I asked my father what to do. My father, he told me to trust my heart, that it would not betray me. And I answered that my heart told me to stay, but my conscience told me to go. But I see now that my father was correct, and my heart was correct -- I should have turned the Professor away and stayed at home on the collective farm."

"But the X-men needed you, needed your strength." Scott couldn't come up with any more cogent response to Peter's vulnerable self-doubt, as memories washed over him of that desperate time. He'd had to abandon Jean and his brother and his other teammates as victims of Krakoa and return to seek help, which led the Professor to recruit his second group of young mutants from around the world, the ill-fated Thunderbird, Storm in Africa, Nightcrawler in Germany, and Colossus from the USSR, with the experienced Banshee and Wolverine to leaven the mix.

"Maybe at first, yes, you did, but my strength was not enough." Peter's voice had a note of cynical bitterness in it completely at odds with Scott's recollection of the naive young farmboy Xavier had brought back from Siberia. "You yourself, Cyclops, always told me that raw power was not enough, that I had to temper my strength with intelligence, that all I knew was how to smash, not how to fight. I tried to help the X-men, yes, but I failed so often, against Magneto, against Shaw, against Pierce, against so many others so many times, and the more I saw myself fail the more I doubted myself. Arcade could not have brainwashed me so easily into becoming Proletarian and turning on you all, if I had not had those doubts already."

Summers remembered that old incident, and suddenly felt a sharp wave of sympathy for the Englishman who must have faced a similar attack from a virtually unstoppable steel behemoth, without the advantages of knowing who was attacking him, or why. Back in Murderworld, he and Storm had talked Peter out of his rampage by telling him the X-men were his family. That had been the first time the normally distant, reserved Storm had called Peter the little brother she didn't have.

But before Scott could marshall up any counterexamples, Rasputin went on. "Then, when Rogue came, I was needed even less. Her strength was as mine, she was invulnerable also, and besides those stolen powers she had other powers of her own, as well as a training from Mystique and her Brotherhood I could never match..." Cyclops sat stunned into silence. They'd heard Rasputin express homesickness, of course, many times, but never such a negative impression of his own contributions to the team.

As though he could sense Scott's thoughts, Peter finally looked back directly at the man who'd trained him and led him for much of his life as an X-man, a man Rasputin was certain had never experienced similar doubts. "But Katya was with us by then, and the only thing that could make me feel useful and valuable to the X-men was the way she always looked up to me as her hero, her knight in shining armor, she called me. That was the only thing that kept me going then, that justified my whole life as an X-man." He paused for a moment, then went on heavily. "But even she found fault with me often, as when she chastised me for breaking through the memorial to the Holocaust victims, instead of allowing her to phase us inside."

"You can't rely on Kitty anymore, Peter, or on anyone else, really, either, but especially not on her. You've been apart for a long time now, and she's moved on with her life. You need to move on with your life, also, and stop relying on others and learn to stand by yourself."

"Do not tell me to do what you could not do yourself, Cyclops." Peter's voice was sharper than Summers could ever remember. "You were never able to move on after Jean, even when you lost her many times, for long periods and in many different circumstances. And you are together now, so you were correct."

Summers shook his head, wondering how to explain the difference. "Yes, I thought I'd lost Jean, but I did try to move on, with Colleen, with Lee, with Madelyne..." Scott's voice trailed away, as he blundered into that still-sore topic, then strengthened as he returned to his main subject. "And I may have failed, but I did try. But you haven't, Peter, not really. You have to try, sincerely try, to move on without Kitty..."

"I have lost everything else I ever cared about, Cyclops. How can you tell me to give up on the last thing left to me?"

"I know what it's like to lose everything, Peter. I grew up alone, after Alex was adopted from the orphanage, after our parents were lost in that plane crash. I thought for a while that Jean had died in Magneto's Antarctic base, and then I thought for a long time that she had died on the moon. And I believed I'd lost my son forever -- I sent him into the future to save him from the techno-organic virus infecting him, believing I'd never see him again, or know if that had saved him, or not."

"But you always knew your brother was alive, Cyclops, even when you'd been separated, and I thought Mikhail had died, twice." Rasputin snapped back. "Your brother may have attacked you recently, and in the past also, but mine went mad and tried to kill all the Morlocks and is now lost in another dimension, torturing the remaining Morlocks with his sick games, according to Storm. You found your father again, and he led you to your grandparents, but my parents were killed, and I will never be able to return to them. Your son came back, aged in his absence as Illyana was and more so, but at least he is alive, while my sister is still gone." There was raw pain audible under the anger in his low, harsh voice.

Summers tried to say something but, once he'd started talking, Peter kept on without a pause. "You thought Jean lost to you, Cyclops, yes, and you loved Madelyne, but you threw Madelyne away and you have Jean back now and everyone has forgiven you for Madelyne. But no one of you has ever forgiven me for loving Zsaji, and for being honest about my feelings with Katya. At least I did not simply walk out on her, I explained to her how things had changed between us. But is it truly so inconceivable to you that I now regret discarding Katya so long ago, and wish to have her back again? My country, my family, my life have all crumbled. I should have stayed home, to help my country and my family. But I came here, instead, to the X-men. And I tried to protect Storm in the beginning, but found she didn't need my help. I tried to protect Logan and Kurt in our early battles, and failed more often than I succeeded. I tried to protect my Illyana, and failed, my worst failure to date. But I will not give up, I will keep trying to protect Katya as I always have. And I cannot let this man Wisdom corrupt her as Belasco corrupted Illyana, destroying her purity and gentle innocence, releasing her dark and wild side, in order to bind her to him."

Wisdom finally got to the holding areas and, crouching low to the floor, peered around the corner. He saw three guards seated comfortably around a desk in front of the door to the cells, rolling dice to see who got first turn at the prisoner. His lips curled back, baring his teeth in a feral grin. Domino had really done her homework. Wisdom recognized all three of those wankers, and he had a major bone to pick with them. Of course, except for a very few halfway decent sods such as Tam or Andersen, he had something against every soddin' Magistrate he'd ever met.

He'd been out with a Magistrates' patrol, under his usual orders from Scicluna to observe some of their equipment field tests, and the group was going to make an object lesson of a free-mutate enclave consisting mostly of servants and farmworkers freed by a wealthy landowner upon his death. The government considered his testamentary disposition to be null and void, since the Genoshan constitution did not recognize mutates as humans who could function freely, so all the mutates who could be found were to be confiscated and impounded for government bureaucrats. During the raid, Wisdom had come across these three raping one of the charity volunteers who'd been helping take care of those freed mutates, a girl who closely resembled his sister Romany in looks and age both. When he'd spotted the broken glasses lying next to her on the ground, with big round wire frames just like his sister wore, something snapped inside him. The resulting brawl when he'd rushed in to interfere had him incarcerated until a fuming Scicluna had arranged his release, and delivered a blistering lecture on just how far her tolerance of his private pursuits did not extend.

The alarms went off suddenly and the guards jumped to attention, looking away toward the main hallway. Wisdom smiled to himself grimly. The scenario was running along exactly as before. He'd spent a busy evening dropping hints about a new arms shipment being held overnight in the central armoury before field deployment the next day, and not one but two of the free-mutate terrorist groups had decided to take his bait and attack the armoury in hopes of getting their hands on some of that new gear, providing Wisdom a much-appreciated and much-needed diversion.

The guards were supposed to be called away, to help fight off the attacking forces, leaving Pete an open path in to the prisoner. But, as they rushed over to the intercom to get their new orders, one of them happened to catch a glimpse of Wisdom peering through the slightly open stairway door, and yanked out his gun with a cry of warning to the others. Cursing mentally, taking a quick calming breath and aiming carefully, all within a heartbeat or two as time seemed to slow to a standstill, Pete shot off three hotknives in rapid succession, making them as small as he could manage. He watched in satisfaction as the miniature blades of fiery energy caught all three guards, killing them instantly, before they could raise a local alarm. Then he spent a hectic several minutes setting the stage, knowing the faster he worked the less obvious evidence there would be of postmortem injuries, hoping that nothing in the scene would look suspicious enough to trigger special investigation or detailed autopsies which couldn't help but reveal his involvement.

Taking one guard's firearm with a grimace of distaste, even as he wondered whether Domino would take points away since he didn't have gloves on this time to avoid leaving his fingerprints all over the scene, Wisdom carefully shot all three several times, making sure that some of the shots destroyed any traces of his hotknives. Taking an extra moment to be sure he had a very clear picture in mind of exactly what impression he wanted to create, Pete rearranged the bodies in the desired poses, then began firing around the room in an organized pattern, as though they'd been aiming at a big group coming in from the main hallway which was firing back in turn. Pulling out the other guards' guns, he kept laying the planned pattern of shots around the admitting area.

Looking around, Pete nodded in self-congratulation. It looked enough like a firefight to pass muster, especially with all the additional damage his unknowing free-mutate collaborators would add in their fervent efforts to reach this area, since his carefully sowed rumors had included mention of some very special explosives being stored temporarily in the rear of the sub-basement. He replaced the guns in the guards' hands and grabbed the keys from the desktop, knowing he was only a few steps from his goal.

Wisdom unlocked the thick cell door and abruptly caught his breath in shock, as he realized the bruised and battered female figure hanging from restraints on the far wall wasn't Domino, as he'd expected, but Kitty, wearing the jeans and teeshirt he'd just seen her put on that morning, head lolling forward onto her chest and thick brown hair hanging down to cover most of her face.

Lulled into a false sense of acceptance by the apparent reality of the danger room's advanced technology blending with his vivid memories of the past, caught up and swept away in his enjoyment of the old game, Pete rushed forward a few involuntary steps before his brain could remind him this was just a simulation. And, just as he belatedly realized that and jerked to a stop, he felt the chill caress of a steel gunbarrel against the back of his neck. "Bang, runt, and you're dead." Domino's low voice was cool and collected as always. "You screwed up, you didn't check the room, you just panicked and rushed inside like a stupid rank amateur. Now you're dead and she's still a prisoner."

The holding cell blurred away suddenly to reveal the empty expanse of the danger room, as Logan shut down Domino's scenario. While Pete stood there trying to stop hyperventilating, trying to absorb what had happened, trying to keep from wrapping his hands around Domino's neck and wringing it, hard, she went on calmly. "Your Kitty's used to combat situations where she's fighting next to people she cares about, and she's used to tuning out personal concerns, and not letting them sucker her into stupid moves. You're not. But you'd better learn, and fast, or you're going to do something stupid, like you did just now. You may not care much if you get yourself killed, but I know you, Wisdom. You'd never forgive yourself if you messed up and got her hurt or killed."

Domino escorted a sweating, white-faced Wisdom out of the danger room where they ran into an angry Cyclops just outside the door. "What in the world did you think you were doing, Domino? The safety systems are all disengaged, the recorders are offline, and I couldn't get into the control room when I tried to see what was going on. You know we have rules, and procedures, and you just violated almost all of them."

Domino faced him without flinching. "Cool it, Summers. Everything's fine. We had a nice little workout, Pete and I, and Logan was watching in the control room the whole time to make sure things stayed on the green."

Cyclops was still red-faced and furious. "Those telltales show me that somebody, or several somebodies, got 'killed' during your workout, and you know the session is supposed to shut down for an instant evaluation and review if that ever happens. We train to avoid that happening."

"That's in your gameplan, Cyclops. We were playing our own game, and our rules happen to be a bit different." Facing down the X-men's senior leader, carefully stationing herself between him and the still shaken Wisdom, Domino nevertheless also was quite aware of Bishop watching the confrontation with absorbed interest from some distance along the hallway.

Summers drew himself up to his full height, and glared down at his son's mysterious associate. Cable's partner, and indeed Cable's whole team, tended to consider themselves outside the X-men's domain even while living at the mansion. And, while Scott might acknowledge a degree of independence for his time-displaced son, he frequently tried to assert his overall authority over Cable's charges. "I want to review that session, right now."

Wolverine came sauntering along the hallway to join the little group. "Well, you can't, bub. First, it ain't none o' your business and, 'sides, I just wiped all the records." Logan gave Cyclops a challenging look, then put a friendly arm around Pete's shoulders. "C'mon, kid, I think you deserve a drink."

The women returned from their shopping expedition in a babel of noise amid a blizzard of bags and packages, chattering merrily both about actual purchases made and contemplated purchases passed up with regret. Kitty was laughing and joking in the midst of the group, but immediately broke away once they were through the front door when she saw Logan hanging around the entry hall. "Hi, Logan, we're back. Where's Pete? Did Domino manage to drag him into the danger room, or did he manage to weasel out?"

"I just left him, back in your room." Logan answered. "He's fine, but Domino put him through the wringer out in the danger room, and he just wanted some time alone for a drink and a rest."

But Kitty thought she heard something in Logan's voice, a hidden note of concern, and she didn't *feel* like Pete was fine. She left the others without a thought and rushed down the hall.

Kitty burst through the door to their guest room, only to stop abruptly, dropping all her packages in a heap on the floor, as she saw Wisdom sitting slouched in the armchair, wreathed in wisps of smoke, a nearly full ashtray and a nearly empty bottle of Scotch on the table near to hand, staring into the depths of the amber liquid swirling around in the glass he held. "Pete?" When he didn't look up or answer, she forced herself to go on cheerily, "Hey, look, Wisdom, I got all kinds of neat stuff, I can't wait for you to see it."

"So, how much are we in hock?" he asked sourly, looking up to notice the pile of shopping bags. "Looks like you bought out the store..."

"Don't be such a grouch, Pete. I know how much you hate shopping, but I had a good time." Kitty debated trying to find out what had happened, but decided he'd tell her when he was ready; he always did, eventually. In the meantime, she chattered on, hoping to lighten his mood. "And it's mostly presents, from Betsy and Rogue and Jean and Storm, you'll see..." Glancing down at the litter of packages, she had an inspiration, and bent to paw through the various bags. During most of the drive back, she'd been planning the details of a surprise for him, for that evening, but this might be the perfect time instead. Straightening back up with a few of the sacks in her hands, she headed for the bathroom, smiling at him. "Hang on just a few minutes, Pete, I want to show you something..."

Pete looked up from his drink as Kitty came out of the bathroom, and his jaw dropped in stunned amazement as she posed for him, high-heeled strappy sandals emphasizing taut calf muscles as she balanced on one leg to accentuate the out-thrust hip opposite, her arms lifted to expose the soft undersides he loved to kiss and nibble at as she ran her hands up through her rich tumbled hair.

She wore a black silk top, with low-cut form-fitting cups barely covering her breasts so that a hint of the pink aureole around her nipples peeked out just above the thin black lace trim. It was held tight to her trim body with four little ties running down the front, starting just at her breasts, with little gaps between the ribbon ties showing tantalizing glimpses of white skin glowing against the dark fabric.

The top was tucked into jeans, as usual, but these jeans were quite different from how Wisdom was used to seeing his ladylove. Just like that breath-taking top, these jeans fit Kitty like a second skin, and the soft blue shade helped emphasize the blackness above, which in turn highlighted the white expanse of neck and shoulders and upper chest further up. And the creamy whiteness of those shoulders was further emphasized by a pair of black silk gloves covering her hands and arms to high above the elbow.

Wisdom stubbed out his cigarette and set his drink down, standing up and starting forward with his arms coming up to embrace her. But he was brought up short by Kitty's outstretched arm, the palm held up and out. "Just hold it right there, Wisdom." She couldn't help smiling widely in flattered pleasure, seeing the effect her new outfit was having on him, and it gave her the self-confidence she needed to go on with the little treat she had planned for him. "You promised, this morning, we do things any way *I* want, this time..."

"Right, love, anything..." It was obvious Pete's mind wasn't on his response, as he stared fixedly at her, eyes firmly locked on the valley between her perfect little breasts, his fingers twitching unconsciously. "How about I help you take that off, then?"

Kitty giggled and stepped back, saying pertly, "Oh, no, you don't. I don't need your help taking this off. You stay right there, Pete, and just watch, for a while." Leaving him looking after her in astonishment, she went over to the boombox by the bed, quickly putting in Sting's 'Ten Summoner's Tales'. Then, as the slinky, film-noire notes of the slow seductive music began, she glanced at Wisdom once more, letting his look of total besotted infatuation bolster her courage, and began to dance, swaying slowly to the soft instrumental introduction.

Pete felt a chill run up his spine when the music started, wondering for a moment if Kitty knew what that song meant to him, how he identified with those lyrics of giving up a life of danger to try for love. And here he was, with the woman he loved more than life itself, and he wondered yet again if he could possibly love her as much as she deserved. Then he was caught up in the moment, as her movements made the intangible loneliness in the song physical, mesmerizing him with her sinuous motions like a king cobra enthralled by the back-and-forth swaying of a snake charmer's flute.

           He deals the cards as a meditation
           And those he plays never suspect
           He doesn't play for the money he wins
           He doesn't play for respect

He'd always appreciated her graceful fighting moves, but Pete had never seen her like this. There were tantalizing echoes of battle moves in her dance, just as her fights always seemed to have been choreographed by a ballet master. Kitty had been trained in dance by Stevie Hunter, one of the best before her injury, and she'd learned dance from Stevie as well and as enthusiastically as she'd learned martial arts from Logan. Now, even after years, all those hours of lessons came flooding back to her, combining with a natural talent, the sexy music and the new clothes, and the warm support of Pete's love, to produce a thing of beauty and grace.

           He deals the cards to find the answers
           The sacred geometry of chance
           The hidden law of a probable outcome
           The numbers lead the dance

Kitty had pulled one glove off slowly as she danced, and Wisdom couldn't stop himself reaching out to lay a hand on that arm, to pull her closer. But she phased away from his grasp with a soft laugh. "I think I need to help you stay out of trouble." With that, she glided around behind him, where she quickly tied his hands behind his back with that first glove. Coming back around, she came up to him, taking his face between her hands and kissing him quickly, then moved back again as she repeated, "I told you, Pete, just watch, for now..."

          I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
          I know that the clubs are weapons of war
          I know that diamonds mean money for this art
          But that's not the shape of my heart

Wisdom did stand and watch, his breath coming faster and faster. He couldn't have torn his eyes away, as he saw Kitty undoing her jeans and sliding them down her hips and legs with a seductive shimmy. Her motions were smooth and graceful despite the tightness of the fabric, as Kitty phased unconsciously any time the fabric threatened to stick or catch. Removing the jeans revealed a pair of black silk tap pants, matching the corselet top, stretched tantalizingly across firm stomach and buttocks.

          He may play the jack of diamonds
          He may lay the queen of spades
          He may conceal a king in his hand
          While the memory of it fades

Laughing again at Pete's wordless groan, Kitty began undoing the series of ribbon ties holding the corselet closed, beginning at the knot just below her breasts and working her way down, still swaying and dancing to the slow music playing, an old vocal piece now. The top fell open as the ties were undone, exposing her high firm breasts long before the last knot was loosened and the corselet slid down to the floor.

          I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
          I know that the clubs are weapons of war
          I know that diamonds mean money for this art
          But that's not the shape of my heart

She lifted one leg at a time to rest each foot in turn on the edge of a chair as she slowly took off her heeled sandals, giving Wisdom an eyeful of firm white thigh framed by the black silk panties, the sight combining with his memories of how soft that skin felt to the touch to inflame his desire to even greater heights.

          And if I told you that I loved you
          You'd maybe think there's something wrong
          I'm not a man of too many faces
          The mask I wear is one

He was afraid speaking would break the spell they both seemed to be caught up in but, when she stood proudly in front of him, her hands falling to remove those incredibly sexy knickers, he couldn't keep quiet any longer. "You're incredible, love..." Kitty just raised a teasing eyebrow at him, her lips quirking upwards in a smile as Pete continued softly, "You're always beautiful but, now, you're a right marvel..." The only answer he got was the pleased gleam in her glorious eyes, and an extra shimmy of her hips that sent the panties falling to the floor with a whispering rustle of silk as she danced away to the side for an instant.

          And those who speak know nothing
          And find out, to their cost,
          That those who curse their luck in too many places
          And those who fear are lost

Wisdom's breath was coming in rapid gasps, his tongue darting out to lick at his dry lips, his hands twisting futilely where she'd tied them, behind his back. Kitty was completely naked now, except for the one black silk glove glowing richly against her luminous white skin, the final item which she began pulling off slowly as she swayed directly in front of him once more, dancing backwards lightly with a low-throated laugh when Pete lunged forward suddenly, wanting, needing to press himself against her. "Behave yourself, Wisdom," she purred, approaching him again once he stood still. "You've seen everything there is to see, now I want you to feel everything there is to feel..." She came up close enough to stand with her breasts just touching him, enjoying the intermittent pressure against her hardening nipples as his chest heaved with each breath, looking up into his glazed-over blue eyes to ask, "Do you trust me, Pete?"

          I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
          I know that the clubs are weapons of war
          I know that diamonds mean money for this art
          But that's not the shape of my heart

"Always, love." His voice was a low, raspy growl. "With me body...

an' me life... an' me heart..." Kitty's heart melted at his words, and she rewarded him with a brilliant smile, followed by a long and deep kiss. Then she moved around behind him, and Pete moaned as he felt her pressing against the length of his back, while her arms came up to wrap the other glove over his eyes, knotting it loosely behind his head.

Before Pete could do more than groan her name, in a deep husky voice that sent shivers along her spine, he felt her lifting his tie and freeing his shirt collar from its loose embrace. Before he could wonder what she was doing, warm quick hands were unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it up out of his pants and off his shoulders and sliding it down his arms. Anyone else would have had to untie his hands or leave the shirt hanging from his wrists but he knew once he couldn't feel the soft cotton against his skin anymore that Kitty had phased it off completely, and he heard the soft whisper of cloth as she let the shirt fall to the floor.

Her hot mouth moved over his bare chest, as her hands unbuckled his belt and pulled it loose to follow his shirt onto the carpet, and her soft tongue lapped delicately at his nipples while her fingers deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers. Kitty pulled away from him to kneel as she guided them down past his hips, and Pete could feel her soft hair brushing against his bare legs as she reached down to lift each foot in turn, to pull the pants away, phasing his socks and shoes off quickly since his hands tied behind him made it harder for him to balance on one foot. She stayed on her knees in front of him as she reached up to pull his boxer shorts off, carefully maneuvering them over the hard bulge of his straining erection, then licking at his manhood lightly as her hands worked the pants downward and off.

She'd left Pete's grubby black tie for last, just on a whim. Once all his other clothing was discarded, Kitty stood up and grabbed him by that tie to pull his head down for a long, wet kiss, while she unknotted it and pulled it slowly off his neck, to drop it on the floor with their other garments. Then her hands and her mouth both roamed freely over his body, as he stood as patiently as he could manage.

Kitty pushed him back carefully, until his legs bumped against the edge of the bed and Pete sat down abruptly, with a distinct thump. She straddled his lap for a moment, holding his face between her palms while kissing him deeply. She took an extra minute to run her hands along his jaw, enjoying the feel of the coarse dark stubble tickling her skin, then she pulled away. "Relax, Pete, and lie down," she murmured in a low, seductive tone. "Please..." He could feel her hands on his shoulders, guiding him to lie on his back on the bed, then lifting his head up to adjust the pillow more comfortably.

When Kitty took her hands away, Wisdom shifted around slightly, trying to feel where she'd gone, hoping to bump into her. The black silk was doing a good job blinding him. He knew he could get the blindfold off if he wanted; Kitty hadn't tied it that tightly, and he could have gotten it off just rubbing his head against the bed. But he'd told Kitty that morning that she could do whatever she wanted when it came to be her turn, and he intended to keep his word. Besides, cutting off sight certainly did intensify his other senses, and he felt her lightest touch setting him afire instantly. But it frightened him, when she wasn't touching him, when he couldn't feel her, and didn't know whether she'd gone. He took several deep breaths, trying to let the sweet delicate scent of her nearness reassure him, listening intently for the least sound from her.

All Kitty saw was Pete writhing on the bed under her in obvious needy arousal. She supported herself above him on wide-spread hands and knees, carefully keeping her arms and legs phased so he couldn't feel her as he squirmed around, and then bent down to lay a trail of hot kisses down his chest, revelling in his thrashing and moaning her name each time her lips and teeth and tongue met his skin. She worked her way downward, her mouth the only part of her he could feel, with pauses of varying length between her kisses and licks and nips, until she reached his manhood, straining upward as if begging for its fair share of her attention.

Wisdom's hips jerked upwards reflexively when he felt her warm wet mouth engulf him, and Kitty phased reflexively at his sudden motion in turn. Pete couldn't see the mischievous smile spreading across her face as his loud wordless cry of mingled fear and complaint at the sudden loss of contact gave her another idea.

Kitty bent down to take him in her mouth again, running her tongue along his length as she sucked on him, then phasing abruptly whenever he began thrusting upwards eagerly. Repeating the process several times, she couldn't suppress a low chuckle at Pete's moaned "Bloody hell, Pryde, don't, please..." Then she shifted her weight, still keeping most of her body phased, until her hips were poised over his.

Lowering her body carefully, she eased down onto his erect manhood, enjoying his deep groan of satisfaction as he felt her settle onto him, then began moving slowly. Whenever Wisdom tried to accelerate the rhythm she simply phased and then lifted herself up slightly, off him. The first time or two, Pete thrashed around wildly, trying to find her body by blind feel, but he quickly learned to force himself to stay still when he found that she'd remount him only after he settled down again.

Kitty was amused watching Wisdom's obvious efforts to maintain his contact with her, thinking only that he was enjoying the physical arousal. It was perhaps lucky for both of them that she was equally aroused and couldn't keep up her game for long, soon staying solid on Pete and meeting his hard thrusts with her own frantic movements, letting him feel her hands gripping his shoulders tightly as her hips and legs straddled his.

They both climaxed together quickly, Pete perhaps a few seconds after Kitty, and she collapsed downward to lie atop him, snuggling against him as he moved his head blindly to kiss her. After catching her breath, she reached up to push the glove-blindfold up off him, then reached around to phase his hands free of the other glove that had been imprisoning them behind his back.

As soon as Wisdom felt her free him, he grabbed Kitty and rolled over atop her in turn, holding her down with his body as he buried his face in the soft cloud of hair covering her shoulder and neck, clutching at her desperately as he muttered, "Don't you ever do that to me again, Pryde... each time you phased away, it was like I was losin' you over an' over..."

As soon as Kitty heard that, Pete's ragged breaths against her neck and the tremours she could feel in his body against hers took on a whole different meaning. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her tightly, entwining her legs with his, pressing her lips in feathery kisses against his temple, murmuring softly, "I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean to upset you, it was just meant to be in fun... you're never going to lose me, I promise... please, Pete, trust me, I love you," over and over, as he gradually relaxed against her.

Continued in Part 4 Hanging Out
Going out, Peter meets a girl; staying in, Pete plays cards