FFic: Stepping Stones - Chapter 1, part 1
Stepping Stones
By The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie
(Marvel owns the characters. I, sadly, do not. Not making a profit, but input is nice. Star Wars is used as a reference only and all characters, phrases of that particular fandom are trademarked by Lucas Films Ltd., et al.
Thanks to
author376 and the guys/gals at the
kiotr Comm for the suggestions and comments. As a reminder, this is a Kiotr AU and has nothing to do with past, present or future continuity in X-Men or Spider-Man comics. Also, it's more drabble than story right now.
This part takes place about 2 months after the last chapter.)
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Piotr stepped smoothly over the creaky floorboard of the last step, congratulating himself for being so tall, all the while mindful of the neighbor across the hall of his and Peter Parker’s bachelor pad. Mrs. Moglia loved reporting to Peter’s Aunt May. Piotr avoided Mrs. Moglia at all costs. Peter, who was six or seven inches shorter than the giant Russian, never failed to alert the elderly woman of his presence, and the apartment’s only telephone would ring promptly at eight in the mornings whenever May Parker received word of her nephew’s late night out.
As Piotr reached his apartment door, his eyebrows tugged downward. The sight of a green shoelace tied to the door knob disturbed him and perplexed him. But Peter had Gwen over last night.
When he had come home the night before to the shoelace, Piotr had dutifully stayed the night in the ratty little motel on the next block over, phoning Peter to ask if Kitty’s letter had arrived and learning that, yes, it had, and that Gwen Stacy, one of Peter Parker’s on-again, off-again girlfriends, was the lucky lady of the evening. She was a petite young blonde woman with wholesome good looks and soft blue eyes who carried herself with confidence. Piotr thought she was a much better influence that a few of Peter’s other flings.
Piotr had spent the day wondering what Kitty’s letter read and had hurried home as soon as his dish-washing job had allowed him that evening. Incensed that Peter had not bothered to call him at either of his jobs to let Piotr know that he was having a girl over, Piotr nearly stormed right in. The idea of what he may or may not see once entering made him balk and rethink his plans for the night.
Piotr hated the motel with a passion. It was filthy, but it was also cheap, and no one asked questions about his Russian accent. And seeing as how many people didn’t like him because of his accent-because his motherland had invaded Afghanistan a few years back as well as other grievances-he stayed there. Fortunately no one could really tell that he and Colossus were one in the same because the metal distorted his features slightly and increased his mass and weight. Mutants were hated and feared right now. He blamed himself more than he blamed Dr. Doom. He had messed up twice because of his metal skin.
The power outages in the east only added fuel to the fire that the anti-mutants activists needed. He and Spider-Man had warrants for their arrests and turning on the news or reading the newspaper was depressing. And the Fantastic Four had been missing since Christmas. One activist group had even accused the mutants of kidnapping famous four. The protests at Columbia University had not been a pleasant scene on the television. His heart twisted when he had seen Kitty on television with several others, all of whom picketed their sentiments about the activists. He had thought the tear gas had been in excess.
He sighed heavily and turned to leave, startled when he saw Gwen’s blonde head making her way up the stairs. Are they off again? Blinkingly, he turned and stared at the shoelace round the knob and then back at the young woman just as she made it to the last step. It creaked under her slight weight. He immediately heard shifting in the apartment across the hall.
“Well, hey, there, Petey,” she greeting, giving him a wide smile. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?”
Confused that she would be outside the apartment and not in it, the large Russian forced himself to remain stoic. “Da.” He scooted closer to the door, lest she see the evidence as she moved nearer with each stride. “It has been too long.” Out of nervousness, he put a hand on the back of his neck and rubbed. “I’m well. You?”
“Terrific,” she answered, obviously intent on reaching the door.
He intercepted her. “I was just going out for coffee,” he lied, his palms itching as he spoke. “Care to join me?”
“Actually, I’m here to talk to Peter-“ She was close enough for her blue eyes to spot the cord, and frowned when she did so. She crossed her arms and looked up at Piotr. “Is Peter home?”
“Nyet!” he practically yelled, but stood his ground. He had no idea why Peter wouldn’t tell Gwen that they were off. It was usually Gwen who did the turning off in their relationship. She detested Peter ‘chasing Spider-Man for photographic opportunity,’ as she had said the first, fifth and seventh time they’d split up. Those were the only times Piotr had been present for the breakups.
Gwen leveled him with a glare. “Piotr. Truth.”
He gulped, hating that she trusted him, hating Peter for putting him in this predicament, his mind spinning with possible scenarios. One was that he was going slowly torture Peter Parker. “Nyet,” he denied once again, this time more calmly, and, scrunching his face into what he hoped was a sad look and not one of constipation, he proclaimed, “Someone was supposed to meet me tonight, but she didn’t show up.” The look on Gwen’s face showed that she only semi-bought it, so he continued, “I could use a friend to talk to. Peter is at his aunt’s home tonight.”
He inwardly sighed when Gwen’s lips turned down and her expression changed from suspicious to sympathetic. He didn’t let his pout slip.
“Oh, you poor, poor dear!” Gwen exclaimed, wrapping her arm around his and tugging him away, set on cheering the big lug up. “Of course, we can talk. There’s a coffee shop down the street that’s open till three am. They’re on the grid that just became active two nights ago. I’m all ears, sweetie.”
My life is Hell.
At the very least, he was going to mix food coloring into Parker’s web shooters. Pink was always fashionable and the tabloids would have a field day once Peter’s own photos showed the pink webbing.
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Peter Parker, otherwise known as Spider-Man, swooped down and quickly changed clothing in a deserted alley slipping his street clothes over his red and blue costume and stuffing his gloves and mask into his pockets. Two muggings foiled! He couldn’t wait to develop the film. He wondered what J. Jonah Jameson would say when he saw the pictures and what the headline would be this time. As much as he loved working with Colossus, sometimes a solo act or two helped boost his confidence a little. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t grateful to Piotr for his help. Colossus worked great as both a distraction and a heavy hitter. And in his steel-encased form, he was virtually indestructible. Always an added bonus.
Peter and Piotr avoided the Avengers and Freedom Force like the plague. They were in a rough patch and all-what with the warrants and accusations that they were responsible for the outages. Well, okay, the electrical surge and outages during January were not the best things that could have happened, but at least the world was safe from Doom. Most of the power had been restored and it was only a few more weeks until spring. Puxatawny Phil had not seen his shadow this year.
Peter whistled a tune as he pasted the mailboxes on the first floor, reminding himself that mail didn’t run on Sunday. After spending a relaxing day with his aunt after such a great night with Gwen, plus the foiled muggings and what he knew was going to be great shots, Peter was in a great mood. He all but ran up the stairs.
The good mood turned sour when he spotted Mrs. Moglia standing just outside her door. At one time, the elderly Italian woman may have been attractive to behold. Now though, she was short and plump and wrinkly with frizzy white hair, multiple chins and a large nose on her face.
“Good evening, Mrs. Moglia,” he said as the last step creaked. The old bat only glared at him and haughtily returned to her cave the door clicking softly behind her. “Have a good night, Mrs. Moglia,” he called after her feigning a smile.
The green shoelace on the door surprised him. Since when was Piotr seeing anybody? He’d been writing back and forth with the young X-Man, Shadowcat, for two months now. A thought struck him and his internal voice screamed. Had it been vocalized, it would have sounded extremely girly and feminine.
Visions of statutory rape charges danced through his head. Piotr, please tell me you don’t have Kitty Pryde in there. He knocked, twice, but there was no answer, and he didn’t want to just barge in. Knocking already violated one of the unspoken Rules of the Green Shoelace. It might be that Piotr had actually found someone his own age to take home for the evening, and, admittedly, Peter had no idea where Piotr and Kitty were in their relationship. There was a working payphone about a block away next to that café he and Gwen sometimes visited. He rushed back down the stairs to phone his and Piotr’s apartment.
When he got to the sidewalk, the college student, whose secret identity was on the most wanted list (though not as far up as Magneto, Doc Ock, The Punisher or even the X-Men), sprinted as fast as his spider abilities allowed him and still seem normal. Though it was late in Queens, there were still people on the street, cars still driving by. Wishing he had thought to change into his costume so he could take the high route, Peter waited impatiently for the light to change so he could cross the street with the rest of the pedestrians.
His mind turned to that of Piotr’s fondness for the fifteen year old girl. Peter certainly didn’t begrudge him that. Kitty was a sweet, vivacious, intellectual girl. Heck, he took a course with her in Neurobiology his last semester at Columbia University before transferring to Empire State without realizing that the studious teenager with frizzy brown hair and thick glasses was the X-Man known as Shadowcat. But just because she was an intellectual, didn’t mean she was smart. She went with her heart, and even spoke out at a rally against mutants that had not ended well. And Piotr’s forte was steel work and European history. Modern times, especially in America-a strange and mysterious culture as far as Piotr was concerned-confused the large Russian even at the best of times.
He has a pure heart, Peter thought as the light changed, and he crossed with the rest of the bundled up pedestrians, breath becoming fog in front of their faces, the chilly February wind slipping through the buildings. But Piotr was very rash when it came to women. He poured everything into the relationship and expected the same on the other end. He also expected honesty and integrity from everyone around him.
The telephone booth was in eyesight, but there was someone using it. He waited while the petite brunette chatted noisily, wishing he could think of another block closer that had working power. The power was only on in certain areas as the electric crews worked round the clock trying to repair the damage done by the surge. Peter remembered them saying they were ninety-eight percent done. He thanked God that it hadn’t been too harsh a winter this year.
He just happened to glance inside the café and what he saw surprised and irked him. Piotr was sitting in a booth with Peter’s girlfriend.
Hey, now, waitaminnit!
He marched through the door and up to their table. “Hi, guys,” he greeted, “fancy meeting you two here.”
Piotr looked…relieved as he sat there cradling an empty mug of coffee in his large hands. “We were just talking about you.”
“Yeah. I bet. So where’s Kitty?”
Gwen studied her boyfriend. She had never seen him so tense. “Is Kitty the girl that stood you up?” she asked Piotr.
Peter looked sharply at his roommate. “She better not be,” he ground out before the larger man could answer. Piotr only blinked at him. Why did he look so confused?
Gwen threw her hands up in disgust. “Peter Parker, what the blazes has come over you?”
“I am wondering the same thing, Gwen,” Piotr said and slid across the booth’s seat and stood. He put on his jacket. “He and I need to talk.” Peter blinked, totally confused now. “I hope what you had to tell him wasn’t too important?”
She smiled. “I’ll be over in thirty minutes,” she warned, her hands caressing her mug of coffee before putting it to her lips. “But it doesn’t require you to stay somewhere else for the night.”
Nodding, Piotr wrapped his fingers around the dark fabric of his roommate’s sleeve and tugged him back outside. After the café door had shut behind them with a tingle of bells, he glared angrily at Peter, his blue eyes sharp shards of glass. “What do you mean ‘where’s Kitty?’ I’ve had to wait for her letter for nearly three weeks. How the hell should I know where she is?”
Peter blinked processing the information. He was silent a moment. “So if you’re here, then who’s in the apartment?”
“I thought you had brought someone up,” the big Russian said as they turned and started walking back to their apartment building, “Then Gwen showed up and I covered for you.” They didn’t have to wait for the light so they crossed with two middle-aged women and an elderly man.
Peter stopped in the middle of the crosswalk. “But I wouldn’t cheat on Gwen!” The two women looked at the lamenting college student curiously before going on their way. The elderly man paid no attention at all and merely headed for the subway.
Piotr shrugged his massive shoulders, leveling a glare down at his friend. He continued to walk away. “Then explain the Green Shoelace.”
“You didn’t put it there?” Peter hurried to catch up.
“Nyet.”
“I, uh, must have forgotten it this morning.”
Piotr rolled his eyes as he unlocked the door to their building and made his way past the mailboxes. He hoped that Kitty had written a long letter to make up for not writing for such a while. He had seen her several times on the news and knew that she had been busy, but was eagerly looking forward to reading her femininely looped lettering. The tall Russian mutant also wondered when the next letter would come from his brother. He had not heard from him since before he and Kitty had started writing.
“Wait,” Peter said suddenly drawing Piotr away from his morose thoughts. “You lied to Gwen?” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
Piotr only looked down at him sadly. “As I said, ‘I covered for you.’” He shrugged the hand away. “I’m sure you would do the same if the situation were reversed.”
“Yeah, but.”
Piotr ignored his roommate’s stammering and continued up the stairs to their apartment. Peter followed along behind wondering how he could have forgotten the marker on the door. By the time he reached the last step, Piotr was testily stuffing the green shoelace into his coat pocket and glaring at the shorter man before unlocking the door, walking in and slamming it behind him. Plaster sprinkled down and dusted Peter’s hair as the door across hall creaked open.
Mrs. Moglia glared at him.
“Good evening, Mrs. Moglia,” he said feigning cheerfulness.
She slammed her door.
“Have a nice evening, Mrs. Moglia,” he called with the same falsely-cheery tone crossing to his door and going in.
Piotr looked up from flipping through Saturday’s mail. “Where is Kitty’s letter?”
“Your drafting table.” Peter smiled as he dug through the fridge for something to drink. Piotr grunted his thanks and found it.
The envelope was crisp and white, the twenty cent postage obscured by the post office stamp. Kitty’s curling handwriting adorned it and her Star Wars seal this letter was the little green Yoda with his cane. It read in tiny lettering, “May the Force be with you.” And just under it, Kitty had penned, “Photos. No bending! Don’t even think about it.”
A smile tugging his lips, Piotr sat down at his new drafting stool, gingerly opening the letter with his thick fingers. He pulled the photos out first, studying the first with a mixture of dread and curiosity.
Kitty stood there with a strange flying saucer in the back ground. Two small gray, bald beings-with large, completely black eyes, no mouth and two slits for nostrils-stood beside Kitty who gestured as though say, “Ta-Da!”
He flipped over the photo, gazed at Kitty’s looped printing. “We found their lost ship. They are a part of a telepathic race that live on the other side of our galaxy.”
Amused, Piotr picked up the other photo. Wolverine and Kitty were holding katana blades and were charging at each other. He looked at the back. “Wolverine and I were caught during a training session. We try to stay in top form so that we can be the best there is at what we do.”
Peter’s clanking around in the fridge drew his attention away from the photo. “Use cups,” he ordered quietly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Peter grumbled, choosing a sandwich and shutting the fridge door. He flopped down on the couch.
Piotr turned back to Kitty’s letter, unfolding it and smiling as he began reading.
“Dear Piotr,
“Man, have I had a busy two weeks! I hope you weren’t too disappointed when I didn’t show up for the Swan Lake dance recital. My teacher freaked out, and I’m no longer her student. But it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t even on Earth. On top of going up against Juggernaut and Magneto, we were abducted by aliens again. Last time were abducted by the Shi’ar, this time, it was a different race. Apparently, thirty-five or so years ago, one of their ships crash landed, and they’ve been trying to rescue its crew and find the ship ever since. The aliens abduct people from time to time to do mind scans to see if they have any information about the ship and its crew.
“Luckily Professor Xavier was able to read their minds and discovered that they’re a telepathic race, but their range is only ten feet. Professor found the ship for them by doing a scan with Cerebro. The X-Men had to break into Mount Cheyenne in order to get it.
“Now we’re really wanted criminals because of all the trouble one of the newest New Mutants caused for us. Empath has been expelled back to the Massachusetts Academy with Mr. Shaw. The news had my picture on the television the other night. Did you see it? I’m so glad I have a secret identity! My parents would totally have a cow. Everyone thought Trish Tilby was totally mean! I know her boyfriend, ex-boyfriend now-he called her after the broadcast and broke up with her since he’s a mutant too. Luckily, Beast was helping the Avengers with some weirdo called Egghead so he missed the trip to Mount Cheyenne and his record is still clear.
“Cyclops isn’t the leader of the X-Men anymore. He’s moved to Alaska since he found out he has grandparents. Storm’s been moved up to our leader now. She makes a great field commander.
“Did you see the protests at Columbia on TV? They used tear gas! I had to get out by going through the sewage system. Yuck! I made a new friend though. His name is Caliban. He has the neatest mutant ability. He can detect mutants.
“I got your drawings of the Brooklyn Bridge and Central Park West. It was so cool that you added me in! You’re definitely my favorite artist! Have you ever considered drawing and painting full time? I know you would totally be awesome at it. Don’t worry about the Russian thing. You can have a pseudonym. How about Peter Nicholas? Doesn’t that have a cool ring to it?
“Thanks for sending your latest drawing of Illyana. She is such a cute little girl. I wish I had a sister so cute! When did you say you were going to bring her to America? I can’t wait to meet her. Even if it’s through letters!
“So how’s the rest of your family? The news had a little blurb of some kind of crash in the USSR. Is your brother alright?
“I hope you and Spider-Man and Peter Parker are doing okay. Take care and write back soon.
“Your friend,
“Katya
“P.S. - I sent pictures of the aliens. Aren’t they weird looking? I also sent some new pictures of me and Wolverine practicing our ninja skills.
“Bye again,
“Katya”
Piotr, as was his habit, read the letter twice.
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