FIC: Show You What You Really Need (X-Men, Kitty/Logan, PG-13)
Title: Show You What You Really Need
Author: aphrodite_mine
Summary: A brief history. Kitty/Logan (X-Men Movieverse)
Info: PG-13, 1022 words
Note: for peachgirldb - I owe her 2000 words, but I don’t really see that happening. Here’s what I have in me at the moment.
She runs until she disappears. She can hear a cell phone ring and knows that there are parents of a girl, calling, searching, but she’s not the one: she is intangible, unreachable. She can’t feel the muscles in her own body, she has no body. There, the dancing notes again. Mechanic, metallic.
She breathes heavy, lifts each exhale. And somehow, too, she doesn’t have to. She is beyond breathing. She is breathing. When she stops, she feels heavy, so she doesn’t. Touch. The. Ground.
Instead, she’ll move through it, pass away like an echo or a shadow or a dream.
--
It’s during this time that he doesn’t really call himself anything. That nothing matters beyond the flash of bone and blood and the locked-up feeling of keeping the claws inside, even if it does hurt every fucking time he lets them fly. He doesn’t stay in one place for long: the average is a night. They like to punch and run at something terrifying, something that’s made their drunk friend slam into the bar wall like so many sacks of cotton. Of course they’re thinking it: Mutant.
--
Charles tries to find time to connect with each of the students, despite everything that’s going on. Perhaps especially; it’s important that they find themselves grounded at the Institute, that they think of it as home. He tells Ororo and Scott and Jean to encourage small study groups, hoping friendships will develop, young romances will bloom. Anything to keep them here, keep them fighting for the good.
He meets with Katherine Pryde on a Sunday afternoon and he’s concentrating so hard on the one-man chess game at his desk, she manages to slide through the door just as he registers the tingle of her presence in the hall. He’d like to tell her, Next time, use the handles, but then, she shakes his hand and smiles, sitting down across from him.
She catches his eye and says “Queen’s Rook to E5 would take it.” Charles thinks: I’ll save the intangibility lecture for another night. and settles in to play.
--
Kitty can’t claim more than a passing interest in the new girl, but the Wolverine is hard to ignore. Everybody’s clambering to get closer to him, to sniff him out - in a manner of speaking - and she can’t even get a grasp on why she should care. Sure, the broken Southern belle has it bad for him, and Professor’s apparently roaming around in his head. But he doesn’t seem so interesting to her.
Except that doesn’t explain why she can’t seem to study when he’s around. He smells like cigars and beer and old trees and car exhaust when he should smell like something out of an exercise commercial: Use our product and ladies will swoon. Body odor not included. He leaves the fridge door hanging open on one of his late-night rampages, and Kitty’s mold cultures grow across the whole shelf.
She decides that she hates him.
--
“Are you certain you’re qualified as an educator?” the tiny one asks him. He’s not positive which is her power; hasn’t seen her in action. Anyway, he’s more interested in getting this cigar perfectly lit.
“Think anybody in this place is, kid?” She frowns. It’s kinda cute, actually. Maybe he should go ahead and tell her that Santa isn’t real either. Get it over with. He wonders what Chuck was thinking, rounding up kids this young to train.
Perhaps age doesn’t equal experience, the professor suggests. Logan can hear him smirking. He thinks back: Shut up, but it manifests itself more like a rough growl.
--
Okay, so maybe she has ulterior motives. One, she’s never seen the Danger Room on High before, and she figures that it would be useful to study the patterns that go into the, well, danger. And two, she’s always been told that learning from the best should be encouraged.
Kitty gasps short as the simulated Sentinel lines up its shot. She can hear Wolverine’s battle yell through the bullet-proof glass, and shivers, watching him run for the machine, slicing gash after gash up its leg, using the momentum and his claws to climb the thing, racing for the epicenter. She wishes she were closer, to see the rhythm of his breaths, whether he holds the air in until the kill is done. Kitty bites her lip. He shouts again, smashing against the vulnerable neck cords of the Sentinel, dragging adamantium through its core until - Kitty gasps again - it all stops.
Wolverine glances around, probably assuming some kind of trick. But, Kitty, up in the control room knows all too well - phased up to her elbows - that she probably did this. A quick twitch of her muscles and the intercom flicks into power. “Ah, sorry Professor Logan. I…” Quick. Think. “I have a question about my grade.”
--
Charles can’t help but be on the receiving end of some things, and after a few weeks he considers taking Kitty out of Logan’s defense course. But that would make things awkward for both parties (admittedly, mostly Kitty) and since she was one of the strongest students, he couldn’t really take the risk. It’ll run itself out.
--
He’s been smelling her for days, and as a result, tries to be away from the mansion as much as possible. He knew it would happen sooner or later; she would get to the bike before he did. He just never spent much time examining the possibility (there are a thousand reasons).
So when he flicks the keys out of his pocket and stares, thinking, she won’t be the first girl intimidated by a long minute at the wrong end of this glare, he also wonders if he wasn’t overestimating himself. Or underestimating her.
Leather is one thing, he adds, keeping the dialogue up, but arched like a damn pin-up, straddling my-bike… She’s got her own kind of stare, and fuck if she’s biting her lip, too.
“This can’t happen,” he says finally, looking away, a little.
“I guess that’s why it has to,” she replies, adjusting her grip on the handles.
Author: aphrodite_mine
Summary: A brief history. Kitty/Logan (X-Men Movieverse)
Info: PG-13, 1022 words
Note: for peachgirldb - I owe her 2000 words, but I don’t really see that happening. Here’s what I have in me at the moment.
She runs until she disappears. She can hear a cell phone ring and knows that there are parents of a girl, calling, searching, but she’s not the one: she is intangible, unreachable. She can’t feel the muscles in her own body, she has no body. There, the dancing notes again. Mechanic, metallic.
She breathes heavy, lifts each exhale. And somehow, too, she doesn’t have to. She is beyond breathing. She is breathing. When she stops, she feels heavy, so she doesn’t. Touch. The. Ground.
Instead, she’ll move through it, pass away like an echo or a shadow or a dream.
--
It’s during this time that he doesn’t really call himself anything. That nothing matters beyond the flash of bone and blood and the locked-up feeling of keeping the claws inside, even if it does hurt every fucking time he lets them fly. He doesn’t stay in one place for long: the average is a night. They like to punch and run at something terrifying, something that’s made their drunk friend slam into the bar wall like so many sacks of cotton. Of course they’re thinking it: Mutant.
--
Charles tries to find time to connect with each of the students, despite everything that’s going on. Perhaps especially; it’s important that they find themselves grounded at the Institute, that they think of it as home. He tells Ororo and Scott and Jean to encourage small study groups, hoping friendships will develop, young romances will bloom. Anything to keep them here, keep them fighting for the good.
He meets with Katherine Pryde on a Sunday afternoon and he’s concentrating so hard on the one-man chess game at his desk, she manages to slide through the door just as he registers the tingle of her presence in the hall. He’d like to tell her, Next time, use the handles, but then, she shakes his hand and smiles, sitting down across from him.
She catches his eye and says “Queen’s Rook to E5 would take it.” Charles thinks: I’ll save the intangibility lecture for another night. and settles in to play.
--
Kitty can’t claim more than a passing interest in the new girl, but the Wolverine is hard to ignore. Everybody’s clambering to get closer to him, to sniff him out - in a manner of speaking - and she can’t even get a grasp on why she should care. Sure, the broken Southern belle has it bad for him, and Professor’s apparently roaming around in his head. But he doesn’t seem so interesting to her.
Except that doesn’t explain why she can’t seem to study when he’s around. He smells like cigars and beer and old trees and car exhaust when he should smell like something out of an exercise commercial: Use our product and ladies will swoon. Body odor not included. He leaves the fridge door hanging open on one of his late-night rampages, and Kitty’s mold cultures grow across the whole shelf.
She decides that she hates him.
--
“Are you certain you’re qualified as an educator?” the tiny one asks him. He’s not positive which is her power; hasn’t seen her in action. Anyway, he’s more interested in getting this cigar perfectly lit.
“Think anybody in this place is, kid?” She frowns. It’s kinda cute, actually. Maybe he should go ahead and tell her that Santa isn’t real either. Get it over with. He wonders what Chuck was thinking, rounding up kids this young to train.
Perhaps age doesn’t equal experience, the professor suggests. Logan can hear him smirking. He thinks back: Shut up, but it manifests itself more like a rough growl.
--
Okay, so maybe she has ulterior motives. One, she’s never seen the Danger Room on High before, and she figures that it would be useful to study the patterns that go into the, well, danger. And two, she’s always been told that learning from the best should be encouraged.
Kitty gasps short as the simulated Sentinel lines up its shot. She can hear Wolverine’s battle yell through the bullet-proof glass, and shivers, watching him run for the machine, slicing gash after gash up its leg, using the momentum and his claws to climb the thing, racing for the epicenter. She wishes she were closer, to see the rhythm of his breaths, whether he holds the air in until the kill is done. Kitty bites her lip. He shouts again, smashing against the vulnerable neck cords of the Sentinel, dragging adamantium through its core until - Kitty gasps again - it all stops.
Wolverine glances around, probably assuming some kind of trick. But, Kitty, up in the control room knows all too well - phased up to her elbows - that she probably did this. A quick twitch of her muscles and the intercom flicks into power. “Ah, sorry Professor Logan. I…” Quick. Think. “I have a question about my grade.”
--
Charles can’t help but be on the receiving end of some things, and after a few weeks he considers taking Kitty out of Logan’s defense course. But that would make things awkward for both parties (admittedly, mostly Kitty) and since she was one of the strongest students, he couldn’t really take the risk. It’ll run itself out.
--
He’s been smelling her for days, and as a result, tries to be away from the mansion as much as possible. He knew it would happen sooner or later; she would get to the bike before he did. He just never spent much time examining the possibility (there are a thousand reasons).
So when he flicks the keys out of his pocket and stares, thinking, she won’t be the first girl intimidated by a long minute at the wrong end of this glare, he also wonders if he wasn’t overestimating himself. Or underestimating her.
Leather is one thing, he adds, keeping the dialogue up, but arched like a damn pin-up, straddling my-bike… She’s got her own kind of stare, and fuck if she’s biting her lip, too.
“This can’t happen,” he says finally, looking away, a little.
“I guess that’s why it has to,” she replies, adjusting her grip on the handles.