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The picture went into a scrap book that she bought just to hold on to it. It wasn't very long before a fistful of receipts, some from The Chalk & Cheese, some from The Crown, some just from shopping in London, joined it. A few weeks later she added a crumpled black tie, and a few handwritten notes.

Your feet are like ice, Pryde, let me warm them up. / Gone to the loo Pryde, expect coffee upon return, real coffee, not that sludge MacTaggert drinks.

They were little stupid things that had been left around her quarters for longer than she could remember. Some she found tucked into the pages of a book; some were abandoned in old jackets, or jeans that she hadn't worn in over a year.

Her scrapbook was almost full before she finally realised what she was doing. In her classes her mind would drift and her notes would be abandoned. The margins of her notebooks were filled with memories; everything from Dream Nails to that day when she was so scared of herself that she pushed away the only thing that was saving her.

Kitty was collecting Pete.

She had never wanted to grow up as one of those "divorce victims," the type that blame all of their own personal problems on their parents, and not having a stable home. She blamed that for a while, just as she blamed Nightmare for bringing all of those feelings to the surface. The more she thought about it the more she realised that she couldn't blame her parents, she had barely been around them from the time she was fourteen and they sent her to Xavier's. But what if she could blame them sending her away to Xavier's in the first place?

The thought derailed her and she spent an entire month daydreaming about what her life would have been like without an X in it. The only time she would have worn spandex would have been for dance classes. She would have known people her own age, and not considered herself elevated too far above them to socialize with them. She never would have dated a seven foot tall Russian, or a scraggly Brit with hopeless hair and shocking blue eyes. She never would have been friends with a girl that was the ruler of a whole dimension, or a girl that had already known her in the future; and she never would have lost them.

The price of being an X-Man, losing friends that were more like family, losing a so-called "normal" childhood, being world weary by the age of twenty one, was worth the chance at having experienced it all in the first place.

If she couldn't blame her parents, and she couldn't blame the X-Men, the only thing left was herself. That made more sense than anything, even though it hurt to admit it. Her own issues of self-confidence had refused to allow her to believe that someone who had literally seen and done it all would ever be interested in her, especially when her teammates that were actually his age, and filled out their spandex so much more nicely, were cavorting around in plain site. She winced a little at that thought. No one on Excalibur had been like that at all. The X-Men might have their Jeans and Ororos, all curves and long flowing hair, but Excalibur had seemed so much more normal. Megan and Amanda were both beautiful women, but they were each so devoted to the men they were with that the thought never would have occurred to them, and Rahne was so shy that she almost appeared to afraid of Pete and his crassness.

He had loved her for who she was though, not what she looked like. He had loved her so completely that she had been blind to it, and now it was far too late. She hadn't been there, but she should have been there. They would have had such a good time training up X-Force together, and if she had been with him, no mere bullet would have ever harmed him. She hadn't been though, and that was her own fault. Romany, his sister, had called her and told her in a flat and lifeless voice what had happened. The death of an X-Man had never felt so much like the loss of a normal person.

Now, after months of refusing to think of him, and refusing to remember, Kitty was obsessed. Thoughts of Pete haunted her waking moments, and at night she dreamt that he was by her side. Her grades began to falter, not because she didn't know the material, but because she couldn't concentrate on it. When her Spring semester ended Kitty opted not to register for the Summer term, and she bought a ticket to London. What she needed was closure and she was beginning to think that facing everything that being Kitty and Pete instead of just plain Kitty had meant would be the only way she could get it.

His flat had been emptied out and sold by Romany of course. When she saw Kitty nursing a scotch in the Crown one afternoon she invited her over and even offered to go through Pete's things with her. Kitty had asked her straight out if there was anything of the two of them in it, any of the photos or letters, or cds or really, just, anything. Romany had shaken her head sadly and answered what Kitty had already feared. There was nothing, he had moved on.

Kitty sat up late in the room she had rented going over the memories that she had brought with her, even though her scrapbook was still in her tiny Chicago apartment. If he hadn't wanted to borrow the Runner none of this ever would have happened. Dream Nails wouldn't have been shut down though, and what had happened to Pete's friend Culley would have happened to countless others...

The thought of Culley made Kitty's head snap up. They had gone to his flat... no, Pete had called it his bolthole, and he had been right. It had barely been more than a single room. She never asked about it afterwards and he never said anything. The thought might not be worth anything at all, but she had to go now that it had occurred to her. Maybe Pete had used it as his own "bolthole"... Maybe there would be something of his there, other than dirty white shirts and crumpled black ties. Maybe there would be something to give her some sense of closure.

She was more glad of her X-Men training in the dark streets of London than she had ever been facing a megalomaniac hell-bent on taking over the world and shaping it to their liking. She slipped in and out of shadows, and never once had to worry about the dangers facing a young woman alone, at night, in a very disreputable area of a city she didn't know. She might not have known the city, but she knew where she was going, yet another benefit of her training, she could remember almost anywhere she had been to at least once before. She found it with no trouble, and it looked just as horrible as it did the last time she was there. Holding her breath against the lingering smell, Kitty phased into the flat.

Someone, possibly from Black Air, and trying to cover their tracks, had cleaned up the place a little. It was still filthy, littered with discarded clothes, empty cigarette packets, and bottles of scotch, but there was no more blood on the walls. Something on what used to be the bed moved and Kitty nearly came out of her skin.

She didn't make a sound, and didn't move, but she almost choked on her own breath. She hadn't even thought of the chance that someone else might have rented the flat out... The form on the bed grunted and rolled over, obviously still asleep. Kitty went intangible and walked towards the bed. Some morbid sense of curiosity was forcing her to just make sure that it wasn't who it couldn't possibly be before she left.

She leaned over the bed silently and found herself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes inches from her own. She froze on the spot, except for the sudden wetness that welled up in her eyes. That much was beyond her control. "Pete?" she choked out in a voice that didn't even qualify as a whisper.

He lowered his hand and rubbed at the sleep in his eyes. Kitty hadn't even noticed that Pete's hand had been inches from her head with hotknives at the ready. She was completely intangible and wouldn't have been harmed but the thought still shook her.

"Bloody hell, Pryde," Pete muttered groggily. He rolled over to the side of the bed and sat up leaning forward with his hands braced on his knees. "Couldn't you wait 'til daylight to come calling like the normals do?"

Kitty gaped silently at Pete. She didn't know what would happen if she were to open her mouth, her thoughts were a sudden and intense emotional trainwreck. She felt tears threatening to spill over because her was alive, and at the same time she was seething with anger that she hadn't felt as strongly since the X-Men faked their own deaths. The bastard was alive, and let her think that he was dead. Before she even realized what she was doing Kitty swung her arm out and slapped Pete sharply across the face.

Pete grabbed Kitty's wrist before her hand had left the side of his face. He pulled her down to sit on the bed next to him almost roughly and Kitty was too shocked to phase. "You bastard!" She screamed at him wrenching her hand away from his grasp. "I thought you were dead!" The tears that had been threatening earlier were running down Kitty's cheeks. "I thought you were dead..." she repeated helplessly.

Then, as if nothing had ever changed between them, Pete pulled Kitty to him and gently gathered her into his lap. She buried her face in his neck and clung on to his shoulders as she continued to cry. Pete rubbed her back and held on to her almost as tightly as she was grasping him. He didn't try to comfort her with words, just his own familiar presence.

It took Kitty several minutes to cry herself out. She hadn't cried when Romany had called her and the school had pulled her out of a class to take the call thinking that it was a family member. She hadn't gone back to class for a week, but she hadn't cried. She had cried when he left Muir, but that was more at her own stupidity for letting him leave. These tears were a mixture of the blame she laid on herself for their failed relationship, the hollow sense of loss she had felt when she had been told that he was dead, and the overwhelming relief she felt at seeing him alive. Even if he didn't want her, he was alive. Eventually she might be able to make things right between them. She was on his lap though, clinging to him, and he was holding on just as tightly.

Kitty pulled back shakily and sat up on her own. "Why did you let me think you were dead?" she asked rubbing at her eyes.

Pete shrugged awkwardly. He could still feel her tears on his shoulder, and it was unnerving to him. He was fairly sure that he could count on one hand how many time he had seen Kitty cry, and none of them had ever been like this. "I didn't think you would care," he answered. Kitty immediately opened her mouth to protest and Pete continued before she could get a word in. "And if there was some chance that you would... I just thought you'd know better. How many times has the spandex brigade's resident redhead died and come back?" He lifted her chin so that her troubled brown eyes met his.

Kitty caught herself smiling slightly at the crack at Jean; it was so easy to fall into old habits around Pete. "You're normal though," she protested with a weak laugh. As soon as she realized the full scope of what she had just said she started to honestly laugh.

"Right, that's me," Pete chuckled. "Just your normal ex member of an evil spy organization that trained some of the spandex brigade to think for themselves and then faked his own death only to hide in his dead mate's shit hole of a flat."

"You forgot the fact that your blood stream is about ninety percent alcohol and that you believe my pet dragon can talk," Kitty gasped still laughing. No one who had ever even met an X-Man could be considered normal.

"Bloody bugger can talk," Pete huffed. He reached between them and caught up Kitty's hand in his own. It was just as calloused as his own was, but it was slim and cool in his hand and he almost hesitantly caught her eyes. "Why did you come here, Pryde?" he asked in a more serious tone.

Kitty stared at their joined hands. His hands were always warm, just like the rest of him. It was probably just a side effect of his mutation, but Kitty had always loved it. His longer fingers were slipped through her own and she could feel the scrape of his palm against hers sending little shivers down her spine. When she answered she didn't take her eyes off of their hands, she didn't think she could stand to look into his eyes right now. "I'm... not sure really," she answered truthfully. "I was cleaning, and I found some pictures... and then receipts, and some of your clothes, and little things that were more pieces of us than either of us separately and I started to gather them up. It took me nearly a month for how much I missed you to hit me. I was so stupid Pete, and I don't expect you to forgive me, or want me back, I didn't even know you were alive. I just thought that maybe facing what being 'us' had meant could help me get some closure."

"Is closure what you want?" Pete pulled his hand out of hers. "If that's what you came for, I can give it to you. I can tell you that I missed you so much that I couldn't breathe, and that the only reason I joined up with X-Fore was to keep an ear on you, and I can tell you that even though it still hurts some days, most days, I've managed to live. If that's what you want to hear that's what I'll say."

Kitty started to stand up, to turn to leave before she started crying again. He had missed her, but he was over her. She didn't know why she had come here, but she knew that this wasn't it. Pete grabbed on to her hand again, gently this time, and pulled back down to sitting. He put his hands on her shoulders and started gently rubbing the sides of her neck with his thumbs as he stared into her eyes. There was no way she could possibly look away.

"Or I could tell you the truth," he said. "I can tell you that I faked my death so that I could come back to London with a clean slate, and that I stayed in London because I was hoping that you just might show up here one day and logic it out, the way you do so brilliantly. I miss you Pryde, not missed, miss, and present tense. My life without you has seemed more hollow and empty than it ever did when I was with Black Air. I can't eat, or sleep, or even think straight, and if there was anything I could do to convince you to never leave again I would do it before you could say it."

"Kiss me then," Kitty said. "Tell me you love me, and that my silly fears are just that, silly. Tell me that as long as we have each other it'll all work out. But just kiss me..."

Pete slid one of his hands down to Kitty's back and pulled her to him. He gathered her up close to him again and tilted her chin up with one hand and leaned forward brushing his lips softly across hers. His fingers splayed open on the small of her back and he pulled her closer, crushing her against him as he deepened the kiss.

Kitty whimpered in her throat and threw her arms around his neck. It was Pete, and, ohgod, he was kissing her like he meant it and running his hand up and down her spine. She arched her back pressing herself even closer to him. She reluctantly pulled back from the kiss before it could go much further. It wasn't that she didn't want it to, it was that she wanted to make things right first. It was far too easy to slip back into their comfortable routine, and if they did that without talking about what had happened then eventually the same problems would come up again. She rested her head on his shoulder and took several deep breaths to try to slow her racing heart. Pete had always had that affect on her.

"I love you," he whispered against her ear. "And we'll work it out, we'll work anything out because I can't stand life without you." Pete kissed the side of her neck and she sighed against his shoulder.

It could be that simple. What Kitty had feared would be a long and painful conversation was there in just a few words. Everything and nothing had changed between them, all at once. This was Pete, and being with him was as easy as it had always been, but there was something different there now. Almost two years ago he had spent months struggling to tell her that he loved her, and now he easily admitted to her that he didn't want to ever be without her.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered against his neck. "What I said... before you left... I never meant it. I knew that I loved you, and I never wanted our love to turn like my parents' did... I never stopped loving you though. Being without you has been horrible and..."

Pete lifted Kitty's head and stopped the flow of her words with a kiss. It only took a moment with his senses filled with the feel and taste of Kitty for Pete to become more urgent. She broke away from him with a gasp and kissed her way up his neck and gently nibbled on his earlobe. She sighed into his ear and he grabbed her for another kiss. He ran his hands up and down her back, rememorizing the feel of her. Kitty arched against his hands, and Pete laid back pulling her down with him.

Some time later Kitty lay awake staring at the framed picture of the two of them that was beside Pete's bed. They had sat together, just talking and being with each other, after the initial urgency being reunited had created between them had been thoroughly satisfied. Pete confessed that there had been nothing of the two of them in the things that Romany had cleaned out of Pete's flat because he had taken them all with him. Kitty had been touched to see that he had kept all the pictures of her, and all the little letters and notes she had written him. According to him he had even saved her emails. It wasn't until Kitty found a battered Bamf doll (that she had been convinced was lost forever) that she started teasing Pete for being a sentimental old sap. She started laughing at the mock glare on his face, and he had knocked her over on the bed, kissing her repeatedly to keep her from teasing him. That hadn't been as urgent, and it wasn't Kitty with Pete that time, it was Kitty and Pete, together, the way they had been, and the way they should always be.

Now, Pete was fast asleep next to her, with one arm draped across her chest possessively. It was almost too much for one night, but that was how it went with the X-Men usually. Small details that had seemed so important a just a few hours ago would be worked out later. She would move to London, that much was clear to her, and they would get a proper flat, not this disgusting place. Kitty would make Pete apologize to his sister and X-Force for faking his death; she knew first hand how badly that could hurt, especially when left alone. As for the X in her life, well, if Pete's X-Force prodigies had need of them they'd be there. Otherwise, as far as Kitty was concerned, she was retired, not that it ever lasted, but the thought of a nice long "normal" life with Pete was enough to make her consider it.

None of those things really mattered when it got down to it though. They would deal with them later. Kitty rolled over under Pete's arm and sidled up next to him, intertwining her legs with his and resting her head next to his on the pillow. He dropped his head to her shoulder in his sleep and Kitty smoothed his hair back gently. The big thing, the huge thing had already been dealt with and was drooling on her shoulder.

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