Subject: [x-fiction] Turning Over New Leaves Date: Wed, 03 Oct 2001 21:11:26 +0000 From: "-*Mirage *-" Title: Turning Over New Leaves Author: Mirage Pairing: Nightcrawler and a fellow XMan Rating: PG, nothing naughty, just MILD lil/lil slash Summary: Kurt goes for a walk & runs into a teammate.... Archive: If u really want to...just let me know please ^_^ Warnings: Ok, not that I have any problem with Kurt being religious and all, that's fine, and I have NO quarrel w/ the church either, so no flames on this...I just don't want Kurt to become a priest, he's a very strong character w/ out joining the clergy. I don't delve deep into religious debate w/ the fic, but I just don't want Nightcrawler to wind a priest for the sake of a poor plot twist. Also, I have MAJOR issues w/ Marvel right now, not happy in any way that they killed Psylocke off for the sake of shockvalue and because they wanna stir things up or whatever, dislike that all you want, but ppl want to see their favorite characters...if the writers are bored MAKE A NEW SPIN OFF or another alternate timeline...you don't need to slaughter the XMen to make room. My apologies, after reading Xmen #4I am very worried about the treatment/life expectancy of Gambit...it's got me kinda edgy. Anyway, this fic sort of answers the fall challenge, but not really. Oh, and it's not following the Marvel universe to the letter. K? *_* (If I said anything offensive, I'll apologize for it, but not cause I said it,) Feedback would be appreciated. THANKS!!!! Oh yes, and nothing belongs to me etc. etc. NOT mine, though marvel... grr.. nevermind ^_~ ~'= thoughts * = sound effects or emphasis <, > = excerpts/quotes not my own work... ~~~~ = lapse/passing of time (unspecified length) _TURNING OVER NEW LEAVES_ The room was of a modest size; the furnishings were another matter. Each and every shelf and surface as well as the walls reflected their owner. A large wooden bed complete with decorative carvings on head and foot boards dominated the room. Two swords were displayed crossed over the sleeping form and Errol Flynn smiled defiantly overhead, thrusting his sword at an unseen enemy on the Sea Hawk movie poster. The room undeniably belonged to Kurt Wagner. However, if this was not obvious from the various decorations, it was made so when the blue furred man sat up. Kurt stretched his body up, twisting his abnormally flexible spine while clutching black cotton and red velour around his waist. He attempted to release all aches begotten from last night's sleep. ~'No self-respecting swashbuckler in the world would settle for less, Katzchen!'~ Kurt smiled at the thought, remembering her reaction upon seeing his bed for the first time. He'd acquired it back in the days when he led Excalibur. Cerise's reaction as well as Amanda's had been of a different sort. Kurt's grin broadened at those particular memories before being overrun by a tight line of lips. Back then it'd been dark purple cotton and black velour, later giving way to navy velour and white sheets. It was kind of silly, but everyone was entitled to his own personal quirks and this was one of Kurt's. He'd felt a need to change color schemes with each change in lovers. Needless to say, it was not often a need, as Kurt was a major flirt, but the only lovers he'd taken to bed were the ones he'd taken to heart and soul. The line of his lips clenched a little tighter ~'And where are they now? Gone! Amanda off to guard Limbo and Cerise...'~ Well, that was a conversation he did not want to relive. He'd done that, among other things, many times last night, each negative thought giving way to another memory, all the while sending him careening into the darker places within himself until he was left with only despair. Finally, he did something he'd done maybe twice before, once when Margali had beaten him for scaring her out of her wits by jumping a gap of cliffs though he'd been forbidden to. And again when he'd thought all the X Men but Kitty had died. He cocooned in his bed and cried himself to sleep. The former had been a simple matter of the invincibility of childhood and quickly resolved with an apology and a new promise (to be kept this time). The latter had not been so easily fixed, but he and Kitty had kept going and it had all worked out in the end. He was resolved to do so now; his problems were nowhere near as devastating as losing his teammates. Taking a deep breath followed by a familiar *bamf* and customary smell placed Kurt at the window. The tight line quickly reshaped itself into a wide, fanged smile and the lower half of the window shot up. Soon after, a blue head found its way into the mid-morning air and Kurt couldn't wait to get outside. "Perfect!" All unpleasant thoughts were hastily packed away into the pirate chests of his mind as he entered the bathroom. Today was going to be better, he was sure -- or at least he hoped it would be, as he stepped out of his boxers. Flinging them into the hamper with his tail and humming one of his favorite songs, he stepped into a pounding flow of hot water. Soon, after washing and donning a comfortable pair of brown pants and a perfectly broken in maroon sweater he made his way downstairs. *BAMF* "Ach," *sniff, sniff,* "what a wonderful scent!" "Yeah, if you like foul odors from strange places," Bobby smirked in a teasing manner as he piled his lunch plate with the various delicacies Ororo had prepared. "Very funny, however I was *referring* to the wondrous scents coming from the kitchen." "Uh-huh, but you know ya could try coming to lunch the *normal* way someday." "Ah, so he should come shooting through the dining hall on an ice slide, wearing a tacky tropical shirt, while singing various classic rock songs off key and freezing fearless' cushion before sitting down to eat, eh Robert?" Scott nearly choked on his orange juice and Jean politely dabbed a napkin at her lips to hide a smile. Bobby just glared before retorting. "Hey blue, this shirt is NOT tacky!" Bobby proclaimed, sniffing at the insult to his wardrobe. Kurt just smiled and plopped down next to Logan to eat his, well, brunch. It was more brunch, since there were various breakfast foods mixed in. ~~~~ "And where d'ya think you're going, elf?" Kurt pursed his lips swallowing the last bit of food in his mouth. "Um... well, I was planning on..." "Kitchen duty, 'member, we switched." Wolverine said as he got up from the table. "Ach, I forgot! My apologies, Jean, how could I forget to help such a beautiful lady." Jean merely smiled, kissed Scott on the cheek and began to collect dishes to take to the kitchen. Kurt beamed, before teleporting -- much to Bobby's displeasure, as he hadn't yet exited the room. Nightcrawler moved in rapid succession around the table, balancing various dishes and utensils and leaving behind a coughing Iceman. Mere seconds later, as Jean was preparing to return to the dining room, she nearly walked into Kurt teleporting into the kitchen. "If you would be so kind, my fair lady?" he asked indicating the collection of mugs he'd strung onto his tail, while bowing the best he could manage while balancing a large pile of plates and silverware on each hand. "It would be my pleasure, my good sir..." Jean performed a deep courtsey, then quickly grabbed all of the mugs telekinetically and moved them to the sink. Meanwhile Kurt carefully deposited the plates onto the counter, sniffing the air as he did so. "And I do NOT mean the brimstone, fraulein, when I ask the nature of that *wonderful* smell." "That," Jean laughed, grabbing Kurt's wrist and pulling him to the table behind them, "That, my dear Kurt, is dessert and practice for the party." Proclaiming that proudly, Jean removed the cover from the table revealing plates and bowls of treats: apple pie, pumpkin pie, orange spice cookies, candied apples, oatmeal and even chocolate chip cookies among many other things. Kurt bit on his thumb in a child-like gesture Jean thought was one of the cutest things she'd ever seen. Not that she'd ever actually admit it. "With all the candy we are all going to have to spend November 1st in the med-lab for a post-party party." "Isn't gluttony one of the seven deadly sins?" Jean whispered into Kurt's ear, while clutching his wrist before he could sneak any more desserts from the table. "Not to mention stealing of course. Hardly appropriate behavior for a soon to be priest." Internally Kurt winced at the religious reference, no matter how light-hearted the context. Should he tell her? It'd come up eventually; Kurt just didn't want to hear it now, everyone seemed to have an opinion and most were not helpful. Kurt settled for baring his fangs in a charming grin. "Ja, but not if one is so obvious as to alert the cook. Besides, Jean, it is flattery, NOT thievery when one would perform such an act for the pleasure of -- " "All right, all right! Now come on, we've got dishes to wash." Covering the table with a thought, the world's second most powerful telepath moved to the sink to put on yellow rubber gloves. "Mmm, how could I forget... we've been sentenced to scullery duty, *doomed* to slave this gorgeous day away soaking and scrubbing and soaking and..." ~~~~ The soaking, scrubbing and then drying passed in more of the same tone. When Kurt wasn't uncharacteristically babbling, he was stealing glances out the window. During one of said glances Jean placed a hand on the red checked dishtowel he was currently drying a plate with. "Go on, Kurt." "Hmmm? Vas?" Jean's eyes would've laughed with her if such a thing were possible. "Kurt, it's obvious you want to go out there, so how's about I finish up, ok? There's only a little bit left anyway." Kurt's whole body picked up at this, his tail lashing to the left behind him. "Really? You're sure you don't mind?" He hated to shirk responsibility like this, but the perfect day was passing by without him. Within seconds after she nodded her assent he leapt over the counter to place an inspired kiss on her cheek. "Then I shall see you at dinner! Thank you again, Jean!" Before there was time to respond he was gone in another burst of air and distinctive odor, leaving her coughing slightly but smiling when she returned to drying. ~~~~ With his trademark and unofficially copyrighted *bamf* Kurt appeared in one of the thicker parts of the woods on the school's grounds. He wondered if he should have told Jean he was no longer a 'soon to be priest.' It was now about two days since he'd reached the decision to leave the priesthood, a decision he was still coming to terms with. It was true he'd felt extreme peace and joy, but at the same time he'd never felt further from what he believed in. During his time with the X Men, Excalibur and the X Men once again, he'd lived his life according to all his beliefs, religious and otherwise. What it finally came to was his feeling that he better served his faith and himself outside of the Church. However, a few of the clergy had not seen it that way and saw fit to tell him so. They had told him he was turning his back on God and his calling. Abandoning his beliefs by fighting with the X Men, seeing that their methods were not always as peaceful as they should be. There were others who'd countered this view, supporting Kurt's decision, but in the end Kurt had made his choice according to what he knew and believed in his soul. Still, it had felt like something of a betrayal and Kurt had eased that ache with the option of being ordained later in life. ~'Knowingly commit your sins with a promise to absolve yourself much later -- *after* gorging yourself to the fullest.'~ That particular comment had lashed at his core and had been an unexpected reaction from one whom he'd respected. Kurt insisted it was nothing like that and it wasn't. He had felt he would serve his faith, the X Men, the church and himself best by not splitting himself between them. He hadn't even told Logan yet, he realized as he looked around their shared and favorite spot in the woods. And it was even more beautiful today than the last time he had been here, Kurt thought, as he took in all the air his lungs would hold. He loved the fall; it was probably his favorite season. Winter was quiet and savagely cold at times, as well as Christmas and time for family. Spring was the time for love and re-birth, and summer for relaxation and passion. However, fall was the time of change, time to assess and reflect -- or, at least, it was for Kurt. ~'Not to mention the time for wonderful baking!'~ he mused, tossing the napkin encased treats in the air. After teasing him, Jean had insisted on making him a small package to take with him for later in the day. Catching it again, Kurt stared up at trees that could keep any artist happy for hours, days even, rigorously capturing the brilliant colors throughout the day. Such scenes Peter had adored, but Kurt tried not to think about that. He should be grateful he could enjoy this, and fall around Xavier's was truly something to behold. Even the air was spectacular during the fall. It was cool and dancing along the borderline of frigid all day, but it smelled incredible. There was a clean smell, not so refreshing or replenishing as spring air, but pure. While one got closer to the mansion, particularly the kitchen, the air hinted at culinary delights, spices and various candles and potpourri. In the area where Kurt was currently standing there was a distinct "leafy" smell. He had no other way to describe it. The first leaves to fall flattened on the ground to be covered by another and so on, leaving a dry layer on top of slightly moistened leaves. This, in effect, caused that "leafy" smell that Kurt loved to rise up from the ground. As for the leaves themselves, there was a reason Kurt opted to go barefoot today -- to walk on the leaves. When you walked on them, the new ones were soft underfoot and the dry -- crunched. They crackled, some breaking into tiny bits that caught in his fur. Like flexing one's toes at the beach in the sand, he got the same pleasure from the leaf floor. Which was one reason (besides the promise of Jean's dessert) he couldn't wait until tonight. It was Friday and every Friday evening during the fall the household gathered around the fire for Hank's brilliant idea of what could be called a poetry reading. They surrounded the fire with logs and chairs made from leaf piles to read anything from sonnets to scary stories. The scary stories had been a particular favorite over the years of Bobby, Kitty, Remy and Jubilee (as were the pranks during them). They roasted the traditional marshmallows and even made s'mores and nobody -- not even Betsy or Remy -- kept their full mask's in place. Even Logan participated and everyone found something they were comfortable sharing during the season's run. No one made cracks or complained as it became something akin to dessert. It gave them all a chance to be together and relax, occasionally opening up and sharing little parts of themselves. Besides it was a tradition that dated back to the original five and had somehow survived through generations of X-Men. There was another tradition that Kurt hoped Kitty would come home for. Generally it was done around Thanksgiving and surely she would come back for the holiday. It had started out as an accident really -- one that was mainly Kurt's fault. Logan, Peter, Ororo, Kitty, Scott and Kurt had been raking the yard nearly all day as Storm had insisted that under no circumstances would she manipulate the leaves. She held firm in her belief that it would take the "fun" out of it. So when they'd finally gathered the majority into a huge pile Kurt had 'ported away and back to retrieve the discarded lawn bags. Unfortunately he'd miscalculated exactly *where* he should land -- to this day, he swore he'd meant to port in *next* to the pile. As history goes though, he'd wound up dead center and dropped straight down -- needless to say, leaves went everywhere. For a tense few seconds afterward Kurt had feared being gutted as Logan looked ready to do something he would've regretted, before chuckling and helping him up. In the end they'd all just laughed it off and decided to re-do it the next day. It was probably one of the most ridiculous traditions, but it stuck, and the meaning taken was most likely a complete stretch. Still, every year, they spent all day raking leaves into a small mountain sized pile before they all jumped, bamfed or flew into the leaves. Now, this was the epitome of childish behavior, but it provided the ability to laugh at a hard day's work destroyed. It felt cleansing (aside from acting like children), everyone able to see his or her own efforts negated, only to promise to regroup and try again. So, as their silly tradition went, they all raked again the next day and finished the task. Of course they waited as long as possible before doing the chore; not because of laziness, it was because they all wanted time to play in the leaves. On Saturdays (after cartoons) Hank and Bobby could usually be found engaging in a leaf war. Rogue and Ororo were known to chase each other through the whirlwind of leaves Storm would create. They all played baseball and football together and Logan and Remy insisted on basketball matches. Having temporarily exhausted his pleasure in crunching leaves and admiring the bright canopy of colors Kurt headed for the lake. Or, more specifically, he ran for the lake. Another secret pleasure of Kurt's, though seldom indulged in battle or otherwise, was his ability to run on all fours. It was something like an altered run one might see a monkey or a cat use. However these were not creatures the self-proclaimed "utterly handsome and dashing, blue-furred, silver tongued devil" wished to be associated with. Nearing the lake, Kurt slowed, and reverted to an "upright" walk. Approximately sixty feet ahead of him was the dock and at the end of said structure sat one of his teammates. Kurt decided, given the various possible responses to intrusion, that it would be best to make said person aware of his presence. So he let his tail swish gently behind him and took deliberate steps towards the figure, making certain he was heard. Observing the slumped shoulders he considered leaving, but what good was a teammate -- dare he say, friend -- if not to offer a shoulder? Besides, didn't they say misery loved company? If nothing else maybe Kurt could cheer up the other just a little, as he'd done for himself. "'lo, Kurt." "How did you...?" Kurt asked, dropping to a crouch to rest on his heels. "Y' footfalls." "My footfalls? How can you possibly identify one's footsteps?" Kurt was clearly impressed. "Ev'rybody got deir own, not necessarily ev'rybody's bein' 'xtremely diff'rent, but s'like deir own rhyt'm. Diff'rent people got diff'rent patterns t'deir walk." "Ach, I had *never* thought of that and you can detect them?" Kurt was astonished, noting at the same time that, as always, Remy never volunteered information. "Oui." "Remarkable." He'd answer your questions (usually) but only what you specifically asked -- nothing more, sometimes less. Kurt wondered if it had always been this bad; he'd heard Gambit was selective in sharing information about himself while he'd been with Excalibur and he wondered if maybe since Antarctica he'd become even more wary of sharing with his fellow X Men. "Well, dat's ol' Remy f'r y'..." He smirked through a sidelong glance, or what Kurt thought was one; he couldn't tell with Remy's dark glasses. At the same time Remy scoured his trench's pocket for his ever-present cardboard companion. "Y' gonna make knots..." Remy said, indicating Kurt's twining tail. "What's dat one f'r?" Kurt frowned; when Logan had been training Kitty in the fine art of observation he had not realized he'd been a part of it. Kitty had come up with a surprisingly long list of Kurt's various tail movement, twists and speeds with which it moved; she probably had enough to write a twenty page thesis about it. Kurt looked over, actually choosing to ignore the question. Instead he feigned hurt. "Mein freund, you are not *seriously* considering ruining the clean fall air with that foul stench?" Remy pursed the cigarette between his lips and let a Cheshire Cat grin creep across his mouth while he charged the tip. "An' y' cert'nly de aut'ority in dat department, non *stinky*?" "*Stinky* though I may be, at least I am not detrimental to one's health." Kurt grinned back, but then he twisted his features and tail in thought, "You weren't at lunch earlier, mein freund, an--" "Wasn't hungry." Remy continued to stare out at the lake, all traces of mirth gone, making Kurt wonder if they'd been there at all. He didn't give up so easily, though; he wasn't going to mope and was not inclined to allow Remy to do so either. Unwrapping the napkin bundle he'd stashed in his pocket, "Are you certain I cannot change your mind?" Remy continued to stare out at the lake. "Remy might be p'suaded, but he trade y'," the thief replied as he pulled out a similar package from another trench pocket. "Let me guess -- while we were all enjoying brunch, the *unguarded* table was looted?" Remy nodded, letting a grin crack his features once more, and Kurt noticed his shoulders relax very slightly. It was like talking to Logan, you had to be extremely observant or else you missed their meaning, as neither laid anything out in plain sight; you had to earn it. "Nice day, non?" "Mmmm..." Kurt managed through bites of his cookie, "that it is. So you're here to enjoy it all alone then?" Remy didn't answer right away, preferring to let his legs swing just above the water, lean back on his hands and trade his cigarette for a cruller. This was his chance; Kurt was offering to leave and all Remy had to do was say the word and he knew Kurt would respect his wish. "Needed t' think." "Ah," resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on clasped hands, Kurt hesitated for a moment. "May I ask what about?" ~'So jus' how daring y' feel t'day, LeBeau?'~ "Sure y' c'n ask--" "--but it doesn't mean you'll--" "--answer." Remy looked as though he might not say another word. But a moment later he took a long, last drag and promptly charged and flicked the cigarette. Before Kurt could comment he turned to him, allowing his shades to slide enough to reveal his eyes. "Truth?" "Well..." "Course y' wan' de truth, been re'valuatin', Kurt. Me n' Roguey jus' mebbe closed de book dis time." Remy pretended not to notice Kurt's shock. "And I been t'inkin bout takin' a break--" "You're leaving the X Men?!" "Not leavin', jus' a temp'rary respite. Kinda like y'r Church sabbaticals... hey, y' alright?" "Fine Remy. It's just..." Remy had been truthful; couldn't he do the same? It would be extremely rude to scorn such a gift, and surely Remy wouldn't say anything to the others. "I have left the priesthood; I am not going to receive the Holy Orders." Now it was Kurt's turn to ignore Remy's shock; the other part of his reaction he had not expected, though. "So dat's why y' were so upset last night. At dinner, y' looked troubled," Remy quickly lied. "Yes, well, let us say it was not one of the easier decisions I've had to make." "Y' ask me y' better off--" Remy cut himself off, opting not to finish the thought. ~'Stupid LeBeau! When y' gonna learn t' keep y' mout' shut? Y' told him too much already 'cause y'...'~ "What makes you say that Remy?" Kurt asked, interest peaked. He'd *never* impose his views on another, but he sometimes wanted to know what others thought -- *really* thought. True, he hadn't spent all that much time with Remy, aside from saving the world several times and the occasional X Game. This didn't mean he hadn't wanted to, he just hadn't had the opportunity. He'd liked Gambit, not immediately, but soon after meeting him, and while he couldn't claim to know Remy, he liked what he thought he knew. Hoping something would rise from the lake and drag him to a watery grave Remy hesitated. When it didn't happen, he attempted to explain. "Well, y're needed here, as Nightcrawler. Sure, y' could do lots o' good workin' in de Church, but y' ain't suited for it, least not right now. Now don' get me wrong, mon ami, I t'ink y'r fait' is beautiful but--" again Remy ignored the shocked features. "--Y' need t' be out livin' y' fait', *y'll* reach more people dat need y' as an X-Man dan in de Church." Remy's insides were clawing him for a nicotine fix by now. ~'How could y' do dat? Who de hell are y' t' be tellin' Kurt bout himself. Probably t'inks I'm outta line f'r even sayin'--'~ "I am glad to hear you say that." Again, Remy was shocked, but he didn't show it this time. "Some of the clergy, however, did not see it quite that way." "Hmph." Remy calmed a bit since Kurt didn't attack him. Then again, Kurt probably wouldn't handle his anger that way. Then again, he didn't *sound* annoyed. "So what'd Logan say?" "I have not told him yet. In fact, I haven't told anyone, well, with the exception of you now and..." "An'?" "And Cerise." If grins could be sinful Kurt suspected Remy was hellbound with the one he gave him. "So guess dat made her happy non?" "Nein." Remy's features dropped into a poker face, trying to hide the shock at the rise of anger in Kurt's voice and the lashing of his tail across the dock. "If y'd rather not talk 'bout..." "Perhaps another time, Remy." Kurt didn't want to waste any more of the afternoon re-hashing dark thoughts. He relaxed his voice and let his tail lie still. "Can't sit here all day now, can we?" "S'pose not. But if y'r leavin' why don't y' leave dat brownie behind wit' me?" That actually gave Kurt an idea, as he stood up from his crouch. It was too lovely a day to waste and Kurt wanted to play. Since Logan was nowhere to be found he wouldn't mind Kurt indulging in their traditional game with someone else. Remy was a little surprised at the semi-wicked smile on Kurt's face. "If you want it, mein freund, you are going to have to take it." "Is dat all?" Remy asked, moving to make a grab for Kurt. "Nein." Remy swore he saw Kurt's yellow eyes twinkle. "You have to catch me first." Just before Kurt could break into a run, Remy gently grasped the end of his tail, and Kurt eased back down. "Ja?" "Jus' one request -- no 'portin." Remy grinned. Kurt answered with one of his own, "Agreed." Shaking Remy's hand with the end of his tail and then rapidly retracting it, Kurt was off. He made for the woods at high speed, surprised that he could barely hear Remy's feet hit the ground. Considering the number of leaves it should have been a fairly prominent noise. Kurt leaped and bounded from tree trunk to tree trunk, drawing on his acrobatic skills and mutant body structure to cling to them and use them for leverage. He let out a long laugh; he couldn't have been happier. The air was a little cooler now and his lungs were gorging themselves with it. The trees and ground flowed past him, reflecting and blurring their colors as in an unfocused dream. During a flip he caught a glimpse of the Cajun and was shocked to see him extremely close. Kurt attempted to slow him by kicking up a fairly large cluster of leaves and send them spraying out behind him. It did no good, however, as his opponent was already upon him. ~'Next time I get a head start!'~ Remy interlocked his right hand with Kurt's left, turning Kurt's body, and Kurt grabbed Remy's left hand with his tail before he could capture his other hand. Of course this interlocking threw two of the normally most graceful X-Men completely off balance and sent them tumbling through the woods. By now Remy had gotten a decent hold on Kurt's tail and Kurt noticed his glasses had come off sometime during the chase. He tried to get his left leg between them as they rolled downhill, hoping to push Remy off enough to escape. This proved another failed tactic as Remy showed he was just as flexible as Kurt. He moved his right leg between them and twisted it with Kurt's, successfully knocking it away from his own body. They continued twisting, wrestling and contorting, until they reached the bottom of the hill. They landed rather ungracefully, sending leaves off like an explosion of confetti. When they stopped, Kurt lay pinned beneath him, chest heaving with exertion, face flushed from exercise, but smiling and body trembling from... well, he didn't quite know why. Maybe it was due to a similarly heaving, flushed, but triumphant and sinfully grinning (again) Cajun atop him. Or it could just be from the embarrassment of said man's leg resting fitted between his own and having certain effects. Abruptly Remy pulled himself back to a kneeling position, which caused Kurt to wind up half flung in his lap. ~'Please don't let him notice. Mein Gott, how embarrassing, but it's just from the exercise, just a reaction to the excitement and adrenaline rush.'~ Trapped as Remy had yet to release his arms, Kurt just stared into eyes as unnatural as his own, but no less beautiful. "So, looks like Remy *caught* y', he be claimin' de prize now if y' please..." He couldn't have noticed, he wasn't pounding him into the ground yet. His face was stuck with the game, but his eyes held something Kurt didn't quite understand. "Ach! Of course," Kurt reached into his pocket with his tail and retrieved a nearly crushed brownie from where the napkins had been bulging out of a side pocket. All the while he hoped his sweater was covering any other bulges in said pants. He nearly sighed in relief when Remy released his hands to accept the treat. Instead of scrambling all the way out of Remy's lap as he'd originally wanted to, he took the hand unoccupied by the brownie into his own. "For the talk Remy," Kurt nearly whispered as he bent and placed a near ghostly kiss on his hand, "danke." Before Remy even registered the act Kurt flipped out and several feet away from him and teleported. Around him leaves of every autumn hue swirled in the wind, mocking a kaleidoscope. Remy didn't notice though, he just stared down at the back of his hand. <...But then he rose, brilliant as the moon in full And sank into the burrows of my keep And all my armour falling down, in a pile at my feet...> -F. Apple "Pale September" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kurt: Preferring beautiful ladies over hideous monsters ANY day, I'll assume - at great personal risk - that you are the heroine and HE the villain! Capt. Britain: ALWAYS the romantic Nightcrawler...it'll be the death of you! Kurt: Ja, but WHAT a way to go! -Dark Angel #6