X-Men: Changeling

Disclaimer: Characters portrayed in the following are not mine and I did not create them.

*

Changeling:

Raining harder than a month of Sundays outside. Droplets the size of eggs.

We're in Kitty's room back at the mansion and it's the evening and we're getting tipsy on one of Peter's secret stash. She tells me he keeps his bottles in a coolbox in his wardrobe, secure from the elements and at a slight drop in temperature. He was away on business but might be back tonight.

Although we started out with glasses, the small volume ones Hank always insisted we buy because the measurements were proper and therefore not enough to floor you after two helpings, the state of the evening has suggested we concentrate now on necking the bottle. Each time it's handed back, I can taste Kitty on the rim. She mixes with the acid of the 'what's this made of?' 'Rkatsiteli grape,' spice and is a wicked cocktail when you're talking boys in your underwear. Boys in their underwear in your underwear. Muscles and bones, body hair and sweat. Clenched fists. Oh yes.

Kitty just finished out the shower when I had knocked on the door.

'Rachel? Come in, sit down. Sorry, I'm just getting dressed.'

I waved the crystal in her face and she looked sly.

'What's the occasion?'

Told her it was my birthday.

'I thought you didn't know when you birthday was?' She said.

Today, I said. Tomorrow, whatever, I haven't spoken to you in ages.

'So you brought the glasses but no bottle?'

Said I thought we could try one of Peter's wines. White, preferably.

Rooting around in her over-stuffed mini-fridge, she seemed to put herself inside.

'Dimensionless depths. Some Skrull thing I picked up on their homeworld few years back. Looks just like a fridge, but you could fit Horenstein and the Berlin Phil in there.'

And she keeps it chock-full with celery and Philadelphia.

'Here you go. This one's from Krasnodar. Nice colour, huh? I have a bottle or two in here for when he comes over.'

She walked back into the bathroom, taking off the towel and shaking out the frostiness of the fridge. With the bottle down, I concentrated and *POP* out came the cork and away we went.

Now the storm has gotten worse. The windows give a slight rattling and the shape of the tall pines outside waver shadows when lightening signs. Kitty gets up to close the curtains, finally leaving us in peace as we giggle and sip beside a small bedside lamp.

Her hair is still damp, she looks fresh and revitalised. Never was one to wear much make-up. Looked too beautiful and doe-eyed; would've been a mistake. I put a bit on though. I used to do loads, but I think it was her that snapped me out of it when we were younger. Telling me the reason I did it was to try and cover up the scars I thought I had. The markings of my conditioning as a Hound. Course they faded eventually, as did my insecurity about covering up. But I still get it, now and then.

Nothing wrong with being easy on the eyes!

The wine may have needed a little more space.

'How long have you had it in there?' I ask.

'Few years.' She sips. 'Why?'

'Tastes... musty.'

'What are you talking about? A minute ago you said you liked it. Spicy and floral.'

'That was then... I never said it was "floral". I'm not some flower-girl.'

'The heck is a flower-girl?'

'Someone who sells flowers. Didn't they teach you anything at Jew-school?'

'What?! They're called Yeshivas and Jewish Day Schools, and I didn't even go to one so shut your yap.' She says.

'Sound like Wolverine.' I grin. 'Point is -- I bet you and Pete don't even get round to opening it before you... uncork him!'

'Ray!'

'Face it Pryde, if you two were any more into each other you'd be one person.'

She muses for a second. 'S'not true.'

'Yes it is! You and he could be the pin-ups for CK Eternity, you're so cheesy.'

'Oh, and you don't long for that kind of romance? Bull. I bet the next guy who comes along with a firm jaw and stubble and keys to a Porsche makes you wet your pants. There's plenty of men round here, fit that bill.'

I roll onto my back, the satin fluttering down onto my bare skin.

'You are so bad. But that is true.'

I think it over for a moment.

'Man, sometimes I wish...'

'...What?'

'I just wish...'

'What, Ray?' She asks quietly.

I turn to her. 'I wish I could jump all of them in one big orgy. Ha ha!'

We fall about laughing.

'Oh, dear.' Kitty says, gazing at a spillage. 'I'll get a towel. Urgh, how could I be so clumsy.'

'Hang on,' I start 's'okay, let me do it.' And focussing as hard and as intricately as I can, I manage to secure the spilled wine in a loose formation, and as it hasn't fully soaked into the carpet yet, the process is a lot easier than it could be. Fibres and dust -- yuck -- doesn't bear thinking about. I take the layer of liquid and ball it up like you see in space movies when they turn off the gravity.

'Amazing.' Kitty says, while I hover it around her head -- even threatening to douse her in it. She gives me those beady 'don't you dare' eyes and steps out the way as I project it into the bathroom and let it dash over the plughole.

'You know your mark lights up now when you do that.'

'I know. Cool huh? It's 'cos it's working at such a small level.'

'Kind of projects off your face. Like a hologram or something.'

'That bit is just an illusion though,' I reply 'the heat I feel is over my left eye, and the more I exert myself the hotter it feels. Not painful or anything, but it doesn't "lift off" my face.'

She stares at me.

'It's very pretty, Ray.'

I flick the short wisps of red behind my ear and give her a wiggle. 'I know.'

Tossing the towel into a corner she raises her eyebrow. 'So, Ms Annabelle Chong... who are the lucky mortals who get to fumble with Phoenix?'

I give a half-hearted smile. 'Don't call me that, please Kitty? Phoenix was my mum.'

'Sorry. I know it still hurts. In fact, it doesn't ever stop hurting does it, not unless you're dead yourself.'

'I guess.'

'Reminds you how important they were though. And how important you must have been to them to feel so bad. If it was the other way round, I bet you she'd think of you every day.' She tilts her head sympathetically. 'I know I would.'

'Thanks, Kitty.'

'Aww babe it's okay. Come here.'

And it's not like I am still shook up about it. I can stand to be by myself; and I know that she wasn't my real mum, but she was as close as I would ever get, and when you live with an extended family like ours and most everybody has lost one or more parents it becomes a line that people aren't shocked at when you small-talk over cocktail weenies and punch, so it's not like I've suffered any worse than anyone, but excuse me if I don't feel just a little blindsided. Short-changed. Royally --

'Hey! Forget about it. It's your birthday Rachel Grey, and you've still got me.'

Looking at the bottle, I know it's making me mopey. 'I don't want any more. Wine is depressing and frankly it tastes lame.'

Kitty makes a consenting face. '... I liked it.'

'I'd rather just talk about something else. I've got enough alcohol in me to last.'

'Okay.' She replaces the cork and slots the bottle back into the depth-defying fridge unit.

'Ice-cream?' Producing a small tub of unpronounceable German delight.

'God, we're like teenagers.'

Later, when the moon is high and its face streaked with rain we are at the bottom of the tub. Music is playing. Olive. Extra Virgin. Kitty's choice.

I toss the little plastic spoonette back. 'I ever tell you how jealous I am of you and Peter?'

'Jealous?' She swallows.

'Not jealous... envy. Envious of how you and him are. Spiritually. Physically. Like... religious, it is, the way you two are.'

'It wasn't always meant to be. We've had plenty of things go wrong. I've loved him from the first time I saw him, but being in love with him is different, and I haven't always been that way. Other things distracted me. Wisdom. Doug. Work. When he went into space with Magneto I couldn't have hated him more, but that anger was borne out of affection. If I didn't care, there's no way I would've tried to get him to stay and when he did finally come back and beat on Wisdom I wouldn't have tolerated him staying on the Island.'

'I mean I'm not jealous of the others. Rogue, Remy. Angel and Paige. It just seems like he knows exactly what he's doing with you.'

She lights up, a little coy.

'What... do you mean by that?'

'Y'know. The way you two sneak off. You must have known each other for years, but you're still content to be exhibitionists.'

'What?! You mean someone saw us?'

'Kitty. The two of you, your absence when you've been snuggling up on the sofa or whipping about in the pool -- it speaks volumes about what you're out of sight to do.'

'It does not. Scott and Emma do it all the time.'

'Yeah,' I snear 'and no one's under any illusion as to what they're doing.'

'Oh, but how could you resist. I bet she's incredible in bed.'

'WHAT? Eww, my god, Kitty, the one person you couldn't have picked any worse that's gross.'

'Yeah but she's like porcelain. She's got a body to die for.'

'She's a bitch, end of.'

'True, but... well who would you rather see?'

Kitty interested in Emma? How out of character is that? Where the hell is she going.

'Come on -- Peter's back in a bit -- let me hear what our resident red menace has to say about the guys in the house before mine comes back.'

'You serious?'

'Why not, you never fantasized about them in the showers? All tense and rugged, been playing football or something, mud and grit and soap?'

'I don't fantasize about mud Kitty.'

'You never think about rolling around with a guy in the hay, all dirty? Did you never see that infomercial with the guy pinning that girl on the tarmac of a tennis court? Rain coming down like I never seen, and you can tell she's staring into his eyes, pleading with his morals, his cleanliness, just begging: take me, take me Peter.'

'Maybe a little, I guess.'

She must see the glint in my eyes. The soft gold reflection of my loop earrings glance light off the bedside lamp and shimmer it over her exposed neckline.

'I've got this one where it's me and Peter and he's cornering me, and I don't want to phase or nothing, and then Remy's there too.'

'Holy crap Kitty!'

'And Peter's holding me stiff against the wall, his hands -- his hands are so fucking good -- and with them over my -- y'know -- and then Remy traces over my shoulders and they make this sort of collar round my neck, and I can smell the smoke bleeding out his breath, feel their legs part mine, so helpless, and then they're just doing it, you know, just... in me, and I can't feel anything but this enormous --'

'Enormous what?'

'This massive strength, this total overpowering of everything I am, dissolving into me, but me feeling every hit, every puncture, every thrust until I cannn't even hold myself upp anymore.'

And she opens her eyes a few seconds later, lowering her head to meet my stare.

'Guess I got carried away. Heh.'

'No it's... it's... natural. My god. Peter and Remy? Like the most delicious sandwich ever!'

'Ha ha ha!'

'Where are you doing it?' I ask.

'In the men's locker room in the pavilion.'

'Kitty!'

'With all the guys watching!'

'Oh my god!'

'And then afterwards... I get a medal.'

'For what?'

'Just for standing up!'

'Oh my god! Seriously?'

'Yup. Intense, huh? It's probably the most basic one I've had for ages. Ever since I met Remy, I thought he was a vicious bastard -- y'know, not in a bad way, just savage at most of the things he does. Devious. Ingenious. Deadly. Good with his fingers just like Peter. ...Crikey. I think I'm getting cramps...!'

'Ha!'

'So, come on. Give it up, what's yours?'

'No way! Can't compete with that...' I eye her exposed teeth, cracked into a wide grin. 'What... what does Peter do to you?'

'I can't tell you that!'

'You just divulged what was probably the most indiscreet sex act I've ever heard of with two of our friends in front of everyone we know and what will probably keep replaying in my head until I'm dead... or experience it myself, and now you're shying away from telling me how just one of those beasts makes you feel when you're alone. So come on 'fess up.'

She muses again for a moment. Eyes to the door, and then down to her lap while the grin widens. Long brown hair gets stroked with an idle yet considering set of fingers. 'Okay. But you promise you don't repeat this.'

'Who would I tell it to?'

'Ororo. Rogue, Betsy, I don't know. *Oh, my goodness*'

'Just tell me. I'll tell you what I think of.'

'Oh, okay then.'

I guess she thought it was a fair trade.

'Well. I tell you he's good with his hands, I mean he knows where to put them every time. In the middle... of it... I'll be thinking that -- this -- needs attention, and it would be even better if he put his... y'know... there and rubs that and he always does, even without telling.'

She must see me blushing. I want to know details.

'And when I'm about to ask for something, even like a massage -- don't look at me like that! -- he'll mention it before I do, and I know that you can get complacent in a relationship where it's so close all the time so I try to do the same for him, though his knack -- his pre-emptive knack, you could call it -- is better than mine.'

'Tell me.' I ask.

'There was this one time, we -- we were in the woods out back, on a hillock or something. Picnic. I'm not sure I recall exactly why but we started petting each other, you know, heavy-like and I'm stroking him and the sun was behind us and I thought I would love it if he... y'know...'

'Stop it, babe, just be free about it.'

'Okay... so I'm thinking, it would be great if he... if he went down on me while I'm on top of him, and before I know it, he's got my shorts off and like I don't even know where they went -- we lost them that day, I think -- and he's motioning me up, I feel his insistence on my butt, and I'm absolutely flushed, I have to hold onto the tree trunk as he parts my panties... and I'm staring down at him, he's tickling the underside of my... my, y'know, and I'm so ready for him, but he's got to tease me, he likes to see me wriggle or something, and I'm begging for him to just do it, and when he does, I move like I'm on one of those mechanical bulls and he grips my ankles, something about the restraint that's so incredible, and again I'm like trapped, but I'm the dominant one because I'm on top, and I'm salivating --'

'Salivating?'

'Like loads -- I always do -- and I feel him reaching in with his fingers, and my pussy is just like, dripping, and each nudge of his chin is like an electrical bolt through my torso, and I ask him if I can turn around and before I even do, he's let go of my ankles so I'm free, and I manage to unbutton him while I'm bent over, and when I finally get to his cock he's done the one thing that he knows sends my over, feeling him poking into me at both ends, and I have to take him in my mouth to stop from screaming, I don't know, and he just, he just makes me go all white inside, burning up and dissolving like light from a dying star, and I -- I -- oh Jesus -- I just come so hard I can't control myself.'

My lips are so dry.

'Then what happened?'

'I... I sucked him off and let him fuck me up against a tree.'

'Holy shit Kitty.'

'I came twice more. It was unbelievable. Had to swallow two birth control pills the following day.'

'...You know that makes no difference, how many you take. One is enough.'

'Didn't feel like it would be enough. I was so weak, I crawled back. Shorts still out there I think.'

'Is that the dirtiest thing you've ever done?'

'Nuh-uh, that was my go, you can't get more than one out of me. I want to hear what you want.'

'Um. Um... er.'

'Tit for tat, Ray.'

'I surprised you've got any energy left after that outburst.'

'Oh, Peter always finds new ways to tap the spring...'

'I. Er. I don't know if you know, but a couple weeks ago, I um. Kurt and I, we sort of kissed.'

'Oh my god you did not.'

'It was a spur of the moment type thing, he was all up and about, dashing left right and centre.'

She looks at me as if I'm speaking ancient Greek.

'We were on a pirate ship -- in the danger room -- oh god, it was so embarrassing, but I... I was really excited.'

'But you don't feel that way about Kurt do you?'

'I don't know what I feel about him. It never really dawned on me before just how... amazing he is. He's a lot older than I am, I know. It just happened, and I'm glad it did. I know he likes me like that, but maybe something's holding him back. Truth be told I don't know what we'd make of it. We've been friends since... I can't remember... but maybe that's what the problem is. But I don't regret it. We kissed several times actually. All in the same place.'

'On the lips I hope.'

'No, I mean in the danger room, that one time, we kissed a few times. His skin is like... suede. Velvet. He's so dashing and heroic. And if you look he's built like an athlete. Not Peter's build sure, but who is.'

'Who is...' Kitty mumbled.

'But I guess you could say my fantasy is about him.'

'I can't believe this. It's front page news. Does anyone else know?'

'No and you mustn't tell anyone -- no Kitty don't you dare, or I'll run my mouth off about why Logan found those shorts in the lake!'

'He found them?! Nobody told me!'

'If he did know they were yours would he broadcast it about the mansion? Pin them up on the noticeboard so Jean-Paul could make some derogatory comments about them in front of the kids. I only know because I was there.'

'Who else was there?'

'Gambit. Betsy. Emma, I think.'

'So no motor-mouths then.'

'Bobby Drake might have been there.'

'Not Bobby...'

'Relax, I'm sure they only joked about it for a couple of days.'

'Does Peter know?'

I shrug.

'Take my mind off it, willya? Anything's better than going red right now.'

'So you're saying my fantasy is inherently boring? It's not going to make you blush?'

'I'm saying nothing, I'm leaving it up to you. I want some degree of explicitness but not so much I can never look at Kurt the same way.'

I tuck my hair behind and the earrings clink.

'Alright. But, er, prepare yourself. It starts out and we're back on the pirate ship. It's night. We're... uh... I'm called up by the first mate to the captain's quarters. I'm just some pirate. A buccaneer. And he pours me some brandy or rum and thanks me for my service in the fight today, my efforts in taking over the other ship and all their Johnny Depp zombies or whatever and he says that he can't do without me. I want to know what makes me so special, and he says I'm the only girl onboard among all these... rapscallions, and the way he rolls his tongue along every word, gets me thinking the entire time if the ocean waves are of any comparison to the roiling movement of his tongue on those white teeth, I'd just as soon drown myself. But I know they're not. It's him, and his sturdy, clean-shaven jawline with its high cheekbones and his piercing eyes. Have you ever noticed how tiny his pupils are? From a distance it's like they're not there, just these mesmerising yellow orbs singling you out from the crowd. And I see his stance, his gait, the way his hips shift toward me, and his tail that has a life of its own. His curly black locks. The whole get-up, the medallions, the knapsacks, the gourd, the scabbard and his épée poking out.'

Kitty looks stunned.

'He stands over me. I ask him... how else I can serve him. And he grabs me Kitty, he grabs me with those hands of his and holds me tightly as he kisses me. At first, it's like a fierce pressure, you understand, as if he were trying to get into my head, but I accept and I let him in, and he melts against me. His skin is so exquisite and his feel, next to me, gives off this commanding presence. Like you're in the company of a great leader. Have you ever rolled around in silk, or satin or those huge grandiose curtains they lace palaces with, as if you were Marie Antoinette? Like the puppies are chasing you and the men are all about and you're all laughing and swaying, drunk on each other, covering yourself head to toe in the tactile feel of expensive material. That's what he's like to kiss. That's what he's like to touch and taste. Some crazy genetic mix, huh? Better than most baseline humans.'