"Hey, won't you stay a while.
My smile will not mislead you.
I've been alone,
My faith turned to stone.
Still there's something in you that I believe in." Third Eye Blind

They broke through the compound walls without further incident, but Katya figured a large portion of that was that Rahne was somewhere probably having Agent X or R cloaking their biosignatures on a rotating frequency. That, or they were just getting some plain dumb luck thrown their way, and Katya didn't believe in luck. Hadn't in a long, long time. She trudged through another sludge pit with a grimace of disgust, knowing that the sludge was probably the refuse of one of the deadlier forest creatures around the area that Apocolypse had planted to kill escapees from the compound. Then again, she contemplated with a slight pursing of her lips, maybe that was why the soldiers weren't following them. They figured the forest creatures would kill them off before they would have to come after them. She scowled at that thought since that meant that their life would become a hell of a lot more difficult on their route back to base. She stumbled a little bit on a root, which was really unlike her, and Pete seemed to notice as well. "You alright, Rasputin?" She didn't answer as she continued to trudge on, watching the darkness.

She'd managed to catch herself on the first root. The second one she hit she almost went down, but a strong arm was suddenly below her breasts, taking her weight and pulling her backward before she ended up face first in a refuse pile. She would have thanked him if he didn't start to go blurry on her. She cursed silently and heard herself mutter to Pete as if through a wind tunnel, "I have to sit down." Pete didn't question her. He merely looked behind him for a second and then simply fell backward onto the ground, still holding her. She felt them adjust, and looking over her shoulder, slowly blinked him into focus with some effort. "What the hell stupid thing are you doing?" Pete shrugged a little and merely said, "I figured you could use some help finding the ground. You don't look good, Rasputin. I've been drunk like this before, and trust me... help finding the ground is a good thing not to turn down. You want to lie down? I could take off my coat so you could lie nearer to the ground." Katya shook her head, or thought she did. "Won't help. I had to phase on too many levels tonight to take down Nim... Nim..." The name escaped her, so she swore and said, "...that robot. I'm probably running a fever. I don't think hallucinating will go with this bout, but I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep up trekking before having to rest a while. I also need food, though, which means we have to get back to base. I lost my emergency rations in the fight." Her voice sounded sluggish even to her, but she fought off the lethargia as well as she was able, and was going to try to get up when she felt his hand touch her face. She looked up at him when he swore, but didn't say anything, knowing he was feeling her body temp spike. When her phasing ability was overtaxed, as it was tonight, she got a pretty good fever because when she phased she released energy and body heat. When too much of both of those got drained, she got sick for a while afterward until she could get her energy levels back up to normal, and her body stopped trying to level out her body heat. She couldn't seem to form that explanation into words though, which was fine with her. She wasn't a great talker anyway. At least when it came to important personal crap.

She finally realized Pete was speaking to her and managed a "What?" in response. He scowled down at her as he said, "You have a fever. A pretty high one. I have a pill from me kit in me coat. You're going to take it." Katya lifted her hand and took the pill carefully in her palm and then lifted it to her lips. Even swallowing was an effort. That wasn't a great sign for escaping with grace on her side. She grumbled under her breath and, using Pete as a push off point, managed to get to her feet, weaving a bit as she did so since the world was going through a nauseating dance. Pete was up and behind her in a flash, helping to steady her. Normally she'd have shrugged him off, but she took the help with pretty good grace now, using it to steady herself and start walking again. "Let's move, Wisdom. We've got to make rendevous before they think we're dead and leave without us." Even though the words were slightly slurred they were discernable, which she took pride in, since she really was feeling like shit. She was starting to walk away from him when a masculine hand materialized in front of her, stopping her from walking further. She glared up at Wisdom, knowing he hadn't teleported since that wasn't his mutant ability, but still not taking well to being taken by surprise, when she felt the crinkle of foil against her hand. His other palm had placed a packet within hers she saw when she looked down. Seeing the ration packet of meat and other dehydrated nutrients, Katya stared up at him for a moment and then, closing her hand around the packet almost greedily, said, "Thank you." The words felt foreign on her tongue. She wasn't used to saying things to people for doing something nice for her and he seemed to sense it. He just nodded at her, before reaching down and opening the packet for her to make her life easier, and then, without another word, he fell into step behind her again. She bit into the most delicious form of nutrient she'd ever tasted in her energy deprived state, while his voice behind her said simply, "You're welcome."

*********

It seemed a small eternity had passed, but in fact only a couple of hours when they reached the rendevous point. Katya could have cared less which way up was by that time, but she was still with her surroundings enough to know something was seriously wrong. She looked around wearily, while subconsciously crouching closer to the ground and into a nearby shadow. Pete, sensing the same thing she was, crouched down behind her and a little bit to her left behind her near a tree trunk. Pete did a hand signal toward her which she understood well enough... they were being watched and he had seen something off to the right. She motioned back that she'd try to go around to get behind the enemy, when she heard the distinctive sounds of a growling animal. She snikted her claws out and was about to try and take whatever in the hell was back there when she heard the relieved sigh from behind her and Pete's voice saying, "The owl comes out in the winter." Suddenly an equally relieved voice, tinged with a Scottish accent, spoke from a nearby covering. "Well, aye, I suppose it does. Good to know ye both made it out of that hell pit alive. Did you run into any Grendel out there, then?"

Pete stood up as Rahne and several of the others stepped from the trees, a foreign smell still clinging to the air. Katya looked off where they had come from and saw a very large animal, obviously dead, laying in the bushes. She whistled low at the size of it. "Damn. Apocolypse must have really done some tinkering with that genetic code on the sucker. It's a lot bigger then the ones I've fought." Pete agreed with a slight nod, and then addressed his small audience. "Yeah. We got out alive alright. If it wasn't for Katya though we wouldn't have made it through the damn wilderness to here so quickly. She must know the area pretty well." She was amazed to not hear any suspicion in his tone, while it was in the voices of the others when they agreed with him. Katya sighed a bit, fatigued more then she'd ever felt before, and answered, "Honestly? I study the air views of any place I might be travelling in and I memorize them. That way I've got a half decent idea where treacherous terrain is. And this time around, it was a lot of luck too. If you're going to kill me out of some misplaced suspicions, just do it, alright? I want to get some more food and some sleep down me right now." Pete just looked at them all for a minute, and shook his head when no one moved, "I'm with her, people. Let's get back to base. I'm tired and I want some scotch. Where's Romany anyway? She owes me some scotch."

Katya flinched and put a hand to her face. "I forgot to tell you that Rahne had to pull her out of there. She wasn't up to being moved. I got distracted. Shit." Pete looked at Rahne calmly, and she smiled a bit. "By the time I got her to the top of the hill, she was cussing up a storm. Agent R thinks she's going to be okay. She's being treated in the aircraft for transit to base. Yuir father is throwing a royal hissy about it all, by the way. He was not impressed that his 'miserable git of a son' got his daughter shot. Just thought I'd pass that along to ye, Pete." Katya saw the subtle way the woman was looking at Pete when she knew Pete wasn't looking and silently wondered how long Rahne had been in love with the man and how blind Pete was to all of it. He didn't seem the type to really notice women too much... he, like her, was a little bit too dead inside to notice the opposite sex much. But, then again, she was married. She'd been told before her wedding day that that would impare her ability to notice men. She figured it was more of an unfaithful ass wrecking her view on love, and time, and bitterness, and cynicism. But hey, what did she know. She was just the bitter bride that regretted that she went through with it.

She noticed the others moving off toward where she assumed the aircraft was hovering and, taking a couple of steps, faltered a bit. Damn, she was tired. And worried. She scowled as she thought of the ramifications of this night and how many people were going to get blamed and hunted for the kills she and the others had racked up, knowing she was just going to bring more trouble down on Magneto and his loving wife. Unlike her and Piotr, Magneto and Rogue's marriage was loving and new. She was hoping to help them keep it that way, but the way this was going she was just going to sign their death warrants. She was knocked out of her thoughts when she shivered and she finally felt the cold for the first time that night. Great... her fever was down because now she was freezing. Just lovely. She suddenly felt a weight on her shoulders and looking down saw the coat Pete had slung across her shoulders. "I'll be fine, Wisdom. The aircraft is up ahead." Pete shook his head at her with a stubborn angle to his jaw she was already begining to recognize. "Don't even think about it, Rasputin. It's an equally long flight home and you'll freeze if you don't have some type of cover. This'll cover you until you get into the plane and I can get some hot liquid down you and a blanket to get you covered. We need all the people from this mission in one piece for the bigger one later." Katya couldn't fault the logic of his words, so she just shrugged and let the coat drag behind her. "Fine. With my height, it's going to drag on the ground and get wrecked and it's good leather, but whatever." One side of Pete's mouth lifted in a slight smile as he said, "Don't worry. I have more. Wreck them all the time."

*********

She was exhausted and she still couldn't sleep. Figured. Katya lay in bed and tried to think of what she'd tell the others at the briefing on the mission tommorrow. They weren't going to be happy about this, she knew that already, and be just as worried as her. She punched her pillow and rolled over, trying to get comfortable. You'd think, she thought, that I'd be so exhausted that I'd be able to sleep. No such luck. At least she was fed, her fever had broken about an hour ago, showing her body was back on even keel, and she was warm again. It was a good step toward recovery. The other was rest and she knew she wasn't going to get any in her current state. Her damn mind wouldn't rest. She rolled out of bed with a sigh, knowing that the floors were actually realitively warm... at least in the living area, because Rahne abhorred shoes in her human form. She looked down at the shorts and low cut tank that made up her usual sleeping gear and shrugged. It'd do. Wasn't like she was flashing anyone this way if she happened to run into anybody going to the bathroom or something. She padded to the kitchen more by memory then anything else, figuring that maybe she could get a hot cup of something to help her relax or something. It was better than lying in bed jamming her pillow into a little ball, at least.

She wasn't prepared, nor did she expect, for anyone to be in the kitchen. She found someone, though. A very bitter Englishman smoking a cigarette and drinking some type of liquor, by the looks out of it, out of a non-distinct bottle. He didn't even look up when she came into the room. He merely got up, turned around, got another glass out of the cupboard and poured another shot of whatever it was. He then plunked it down carefully on the other side of the table and nodded with his head. "Sit down and take a load off. Have some scotch, yank. And feel blessed. I don't share this stuff with just anyone." Katya sat down and relaxed into her seat, curiously at ease with him, "Couldn't sleep either, eh, Brit?" Pete shook his head and then blew some smoke out of the side of his mouth, still looking down at some papers in front of him. "Reading the reviews of the mission the others inputed into the computer when they got in. This one..." he tapped a sheet off to the left of him, knocking a slight amount of ash onto the table that he then wiped off with his other hand before it burned something, "is of particular interest. Rahne said that you knew that the place was equipped with Nimrods as soon as you saw a computer terminal. How did you know? You're not trying the scotch. Don't let it go to waste." Katya picked up the glass in front of her and, sniffing it, chewed her bottom lip for a moment in consideration, and then made the mistake of taking a big gulp of the stuff.

After the coughing fit had passed slightly, she looked up again and managed to gasp out, "Red terminals. Smooth taste, by the way." Pete was half raised out of his seat, seeming frozen in midmotion as if he had been about to pound on her back to help her clear her throat. She looked behind her and then off to the sides, then back at him, managing to warn him, "That cigarette is burning down precariously close to your fingers. You might want to put it out. What? Is something the matter?" She did notice from the postion he was currently stuck in that he had changed out of his suit jacket and gotten rid of the tie. He'd even unbuttoned his shirt a couple of places and rolled back his shirt sleeves to reveal very nicely shaped forearms. For some odd reason she found the sight very sexy, although she found his behavior very disturbing.

He finally seemed to snap out of whatever thing he was in and sat down with a hard thump onto the chair. She was about to repeat her question when he spoke in a half choked voice, stubbing out his cigarette at the same time, "What in the hell are you wearing?" Katya looked down at her outfit and then back up at Pete, "What? It's my nightclothes. It covers everything. Did I offend you or something?" Pete made a motion for her to stand up, and she angrily complied. "Should I twirl for you as well, you miserable English ass?" Pete didn't answer as he stared in amazement at the black silk ensemble. Most people would call what she was wearing shorts. He called it illegal. They were almost at the tops of her thighs and slit up on both sides almost to her hip to give her complete range of motion. The silk tank was low enough cut that he wondered what was under it, it still showing off a decent amount of cleavage. It also, he bet, had basically no back and, if she stretched her arms in the least bit, he'd get a really wonderful view of her belly button.

He voiced the first thought into his mind, smart or no, he didn't care. "You have a great body and that outfit shows it off to a T. Nice." Surprisingly, she didn't deck him or try to kill him. Katya blinked a couple of times in shock and then sat back down in her seat, where she then picked up the scotch and took another shot of it, the bright way this time so she wouldn't choke. "Thank you. I think. You... uh... look nice too." She scowled at herself for that comment thinking she wasn't at all good at this type of thing. This whole "male and female communication" gig was much too hard to try. So, she did what she'd always done. She changed the subject. "Like I was saying. It was a red terminal that tipped me off that something non-kosher was going on. All military bases have one in the core computer room when they're trying to keep military personal straight on what not to touch. Nimrod controls are usually the only things that they don't want mutants screwing with for obvious reasons, and so they color code those red. Did you look over my report?" Pete got back to the business at hand, even though it was hard to concentrate and answered her, "Yeah I read yours first. What you had to say isn't good at all. I've been in Black Air for years and yet I had no idea there was that high up of military personal in that damn installation, let alone Nimrods. Least we got the disk and the information. That's being processed now for breakdowns and subfiles that might contain something. You know the drill, I'm sure." Katya nodded at him calmly. "Yes. Too well, sometimes."

Pete pushed the files aside into a haphazard pile, and then looked at the woman across from him who had risked her life to save his. She'd admitted one reason for saving his life in the report she'd submitted. So, she was afraid of his father... every sane person in the world was scared of that psycho. He had found himself, however, wanting to change her reasons for wanting to save him, and he figured what the hell. He was drunk enough and she was showing signs of relaxing. He quickly refilled her glass when she emptied it and she didn't protest the refill. He figured this was the time to ask a question that he wanted to know personally. "So. Rasputin. Tell me about yourself. Other than what I've read in a file. Where have you been? What do you like? What don't you like? Where did you come from? What's your story?" Katya wasn't prepared for the turn in conversation but took it in stride, although she wanted to fix one small thing. "Call me Pryde." Pete furrowed his brow in confusion for a moment. "What?" Katya sighed, "It's a nickname that I haven't been called in years. Coincidently, it's also my maiden name. Call me Pryde. Not Rasputin. I'm not a big fan of that name." Pete was oddly pleased by that, and tested it out. "Pryde. Alright, I can do that. So, Pryde, are you going to answer my question?"

Katya took another sip of scotch before she answered, "Well, let's start at the beginning, shall we? I was born Katherine, aka Kitty, Pryde in Chicago, a long time ago it seems. I grew up as we jumped from town to town. My mom got killed when I was really young from a missile Apocolypse shot off. So we ran from one rebel base to another trying to avoid people who were trying to snatch me. Dad would never tell me why. Until I reached the age of ten. The building we were in took heavy fire. I had had headaches for a while, but when I saw my dad get cut down in front of me I freaked, to put it simply. I was preparing to die, when nothing happened. Turns out the bullets passed through me and I disappeared from enemy scanners. So they left. When I couldn't resolidify, I completely freaked out and ended up passing out from hysteria from that, seeing my dad's dead body, and thinking that I had died and not gone back to God, which being Jewish that wasn't good at all. I was found about seven hours later by Logan... you'd know him as Weapon X by the files. Him and Victor got Rogue to absorb my powers before I woke up, and she did it even though she got to relive my dad's whole death in the experience, and they pulled me out of there before the enemy could come back. I woke up a while later looking up at Rogue, a new recruit at that time, and at Magneto who told me about his dream. I stayed more for Logan than for the dream. I saw him fight once and that was the nail in the coffin as it were. I wanted to learn how to fight like him. I wanted to know how to get revenge on Apocolypse for ever taking things out on my world. For killing my mother and my father, simply for being. I wanted him dead. And so, Logan taught me. That's where I got the popout claws...,I realized he did a hell of a lot of damage and did a lot of the hit and run I'd need to do, so I mimicked him directly. I was never young in my life, I think, but after my dad died I became a wall. Nothing was getting past it. I still have a problem with that. Or at least so I've heard. So, here I am years later as a jack of all trades for the X-men because I've found I'm good at what I do and Magneto has, too. That's my background for you in a nutshell. As for my favorite color... it's blue. After that, it's all in the details.

Pete was amazed at the woman before him who had given that recounting so calmly, but knew her story wasn't at all out of the ordinary except for the fact that someone had saved her. He let her quietly sip her scotch after that telling, smoking another cigarette while he tried to figure out the complexitites of the woman before him. She was one hell of a contradiction. She built walls up so high none of her teamates could get past them, he'd studied her enough to know that one. She didn't have any close friends that he could see, and yet she'd gone in after him when all odds were against him, accepted his help like it was foreign to her, and by the look on her face she'd never had a man compliment her on her body before. He'd bet she hadn't slept with Piotr, really slept with him, since their wedding night with any type of emotion... or ever, for that matter. Passion didn't seem to be something that existed in her world... that and people appreciating and treasuring her for the jewel she was. For some odd reason, the combination of that and the fierce spirit and determination he saw within her made him respect and appreciate her for the human being she was more and more, and really made him want to go and hunt down every single person in her life, starting with Magneto and her lousy excuse for a husband, who had ever used or abused her, and kick them square in the testicles. With very spiky hot shoes on. He smiled maliciously at that thought and the pleasure it brought.

He was interupted from his pleasurable contemplation by a very small sigh. He looked across the table immediately, and almost laughed out loud. The woman who could probably outswear, outfight -- and she'd probably say outdrink -- every member of his team was currently passed out cold on his kitchen table. Her scotch glass sat three quarters empty at her side, her head was pillowed on her folded arms. She was actually cute in that pose, he thought, and then smiled widely at the thought, knowing she couldn't see. He walked around the table, not even staggering yet, he almost cheered at the thought, and with no effort at all picked the petite warm bundle up into his arms. He then headed toward her room to put her to bed, contemplating that a woman like the one he was holding didn't come along every day and they sure as hell didn't smell as good as she did and didn't have hair half as soft as hers. He breathed in her surprisingly slightly flowery and spicy fragerance and wondered for the first time what had possessed her to marry a man she didn't even love, and then kicked himself... hard... for thinking anything about her at all.