Kitty and Pete | Waaaaay backdated
Apr. 13th, 2019 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainAfter the rest of the guests have left, Pete and Kitty celebrate her birthday.
Which I was possibly reminded of by Felix and Shinobi's also forgotten log. Oops!
Kitty looked around at her frankly wrecked apartment and sighed. At least she could hire cleaners to help? Maybe. But for now, she started moving around the room, shutting down the holoprojectors.
And from the sounds of things, he'd timed it just perfect. Pete smirked, just a little, and swung his gift bag by its strings as he headed towards the door of Kitty's apartment. He was pretty sure he'd seen a couple of her mates up the road a bit, probably heading for where they'd parked their cars or for public transport (he'd opted for the latter, himself, not having any urge to brave traffic worse than London's). In any case, he couldn't hear any music pounding, which suggested the party was over. Perfect. He leaned on the bell and waited for her to answer. And hoped he hadn't totally made a hash of the gift.
She'd just shut down the karaoke machine when the bell sounded, and she frowned for half a moment in confusion before remembering the off-hand invitation she'd given. "Oh. God," she breathed under her breath, and turned to look in the mirror on the wall near the door to check her hair. Why had she asked him to come at the end again? When she looked her absolute worst? She was still half-buzzed, exhausted from singing, and her makeup wasn't nearly what it had been a few hours ago.
She turned toward the door, smoothing her dress and shifting her strapless bra beneath so it fit...better. Then she sighed bit her lip, sighed, and opened the door. Behind her, the lights were still dim, bits of light floating through the air in the areas where she had yet to turn off the holoprojectors, the city's skyline just visible through one of the clock windows at the end of the hall.
"Happy -" Pete broke off as he caught sight of Kitty, looking - well, she was always gorgeous, but she'd definitely taken it up a half dozen notches from there. The backdrop didn't help, either - dim light, somehow speckled with lights that had no immediately discernible source, and the city's skyline behind it. "Cor," he breathed, because his brain didn't seem to be able to handle much more than that.
Kitty had been reading up on British slang lately, so that... she actually understood, and flushed a little. "Uh, yeah. Hi. Sorry, you missed the real magic," she told him, nodding toward her apartment. "I was trying to make it like a fairy wonderland or something."
"We went to Magic-land already. This beats it, hands down." He pulled his eyes away from the background to meet hers, and blurted, "You look bloody amazing, Pryde."
The little bit of flush intensified two-fold, and she glanced down with a smile before opening the door wider for him. "Well. Don't just stand in the hallway."
"Yeah, wouldn't want the neighbors to see the riff-raff you've got coming and going," he joked. He stepped in past her, pausing to brush his lips over her cheek. "How'd the party go? Anyone pass out in the loo?"
"I haven't actually checked," she admitted, warming two-fold at the brief kiss. She closed the door behind him, and shrugged a little. "Let's hope not?"
"Dunno - not sure it even counts as a party if everyone actually walked out on their own two feet." Pete smirked, then belatedly remembered what he was holding and set the bag down on the table. "Any drinkables left? Or did they clean you out?"
Kitty laughed softly and took him by the hand, leading him toward the kitchen area, which was set up as a buffet - once brimming with food and drinks, now a total wreck. "I've still got a little. What's your poison?"
"Scotch if you've got any." He grabbed a couple of plastic glasses and the bottle in question, then looked over at her, raised his eyebrows, and grinned. "Wouldn't want me drinking alone, would you?
Kitty eyed the bottle. "I mean, I've never actually tried Scotch..."
"Sure you have, I dosed your coffee with it once." Pete smirked as he poured a few inches' worth into the cup. "Takes better straight, though."
"I'll have to take your word on that," she told him, looking speculatively into her cup.
"Or you could try it," Pete suggested. He held his own cup up to bump hers. "Happy Birthday, Pryde. How's it feel to be one step closer to legal?"
"I'm not sure this really counts," she smiled sideways, but bumped his cup anyway. "But yeah, either way, it feels pretty good. Maybe I won't feel so much like a kid now that I'm sixteen?"
"Mebbe? You don't look like a kid, that's for sure." Pete leered appreciatively for a moment, then smirked and tossed down the Scotch. That done, he shrugged and added, "Anyway, the way I figure it, you're working a full time job. Once you're doing that, you're not a kid, no matter how old you are."
No matter how 'grown-up' she was supposed to be, she still found her cheeks growing hot at the way he looked at her. She took a sip of the Scotch, coughing slightly afterwards, then shook her head. "Well, I don't think most legal authorities would agree with you on that."
"Eh, bugger the legal authorities. What do they know, anyway?" Pete shrugged and jerked his chin towards her glass. "If you don't like it, don't drink it. Not gonna push you into it." Which she should know, but just in case she didn't, it was worth saying.
She eyed him, but grinned impishly and reached for a nearby coke bottle, pouring the contents in with the Scotch. "Don't scream in horror, okay?"
Pete settled for shuddering. "Bloody American, that's what you are," he teased as he poured a little more of the bottle's contents into his glass. "Next thing you'll be putting beer in the fridge."
Kitty laughed, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. "It's already there. Not that I drink beer, because I don't, because gross, but I had to have some here for all the bloody American boys that do."
"Now see? You could be arrested in England for that," Pete pointed out, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. "Should take you back there and show you a proper pub."
Kitty's eyebrows went up, even as she slipped her arms around his neck. "Oh yeah? Gonna give me a tour?"
"Could be talked into it," Pete countered with a smirk. "If you want, that is. Introduce you to a coupla my mates from the intel agencies if you want; total wankers, all of them, but not bad if you like the type. Show you 'round London, too." It didn't sound like a half bad idea, actually. He'd just have to figure out if the money he had left from STRIKE would cover a couple of round trip tickets. Or see if he could get a better price from that purple girl who teleported, one or the other.
"I could probably get Nolan to write it off as a business expense or something?" Kitty told him thoughtfully, taking another sip of her drink.
"Could, but you'd be going by yourself, then," Pete countered, his expression growing stubborn. "I invited you, didn't I? I've got a few quid saved up, still. Had a salary before I got shipped 'cross the pond. Pretty sure it'll cover two seats to London, with enough left over for a few pints."
Kitty frowned slightly at the rebuff, but she supposed she should have expected it. Pete was nothing if not Stubborn and Independent. "Enough for a hotel room?" she asked curiously.
Mollified in that at least she wasn't arguing the point, Pete's lips twitched up a fraction. "Now, there you might be pushing it. But it's likely I can swing something like, yeah."
"Pete, you know I could probably handle it, right?" she pointed out.
"Yeah," he acknowledged. Letting Kitty pay was less of an issue than expensing it to Nolcorp. She earned her paycheck, genius that she was, and probably a whole lot more. "Tell you what, if I fall short, you can pick up the tab. I need to find myself a new job, though."
At that, she took his hand, leading him over to the couch, which had been pushed all the way up against the windows to make way for dancing and karaoke. Little motes of light still danced around the room like lightning bugs, the only real light in the room. She tugged him down, tilting a look at him. "You want a job?"
"Need one," Pete countered as he plopped down beside her. "Graduating again, and I'm not heading off to University, so I need to find something. Not sure what, though, 'less I go back to England and try my luck with MI-6 or some shite."
"Really?" Kitty frowned. "You're thinking of going back?"
"Nah. Just saying, there's not much call for a former spy." He shrugged and offered her a smirk. "I'll figure out something. You'd have to work a lot harder to get rid of me. Have me deported or something, maybe."
"There's plenty of work for a former spy," Kitty told him, shoving gently at his shoulder. "And trust me, if I wanted to get rid of you, it'd be a lot more in your face than deportation."
"Drop me straight out the window, would you? That's what I like about you, Pryde, you don't mess around." He grinned, because it was nothing but the truth, then reached over and wrapped an arm around her. "Not so sure about the plenty of work bit, though. 'Less you're suggesting I hire myself out as private security or some such."
Kitty shifted until she was sitting sideways in his lap, one arm around his neck, her other hand still cupping the glass. "I wouldn't bother with a window. I could drop you through the floor. But as for the work...there are agencies here. Or private investigators? There are even investigators that work for firms like NolCorp, who look into corporate espionage. Or you could start up something of your own."
"Could," Pete allowed thoughtfully, mulling that over. "Maybe I'll talk it over with Bets, see if she'd be interested. Something like that might go better with a partner, and I can't see you leaving NolCorp to be a PI." He grinned and leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "Be crazy to, when you've got your dream job already."
Kitty remembered their adventures in Yorkland, and felt something tug in her belly - a kind of want. She wasn't sure if that was due to the nuzzling or the thought of being a private investigator with Pete, but as she leaned into him, fingers curling into his hair, she couldn't help thinking that being a PI would be kind of a dream job too. Of a different sort. Ugh. Futures were hard. "Yeah," she finally said distractedly. "Maybe."
"Maybe?" Pete pulled his face out of her hair and looked up at her, confused. "Thought you were into the whole corporate inventor thing."
"I am!" she huffed, then tucked her face into his neck instead. "I am," she muffled at him. "but I keep thinking about Yorkland, and what I was there."
Pete moaned and arched his neck. "Professional thief? Hell of a career switch - or maybe not, being as you're management and all." He stroked his hand slowly up her back and added, a little wistfully. "We made a good team though, yeah?"
"Yeah, we did," she agreed, lifting her head.
"Should try it again sometime. When you've got vacay coming or something." Pete smirked. "Must be somewhere about that needs a couple of bloody do-gooders to risk their lives every five minutes. The East End comes to mind."
Kitty raised a brow at him. "My face is kinda known. I mean, not totally, but a little."
"Didn't think of that," Pete admitted with a frown.
"I"ve got my Shadowcat mask," she said thoughtfully. "But I've never really gone out in public with X-Force before. I'm usually left behind to monitor things."
"Which goes to show this place doesn't know what they're about," Pete grumbled. "You set someone to monitor who's a waste in the field, not someone who can think on her own and kick the assholes in the nads."
Kitty smiled and nudged his jaw with her nose. "Yeah but you know how me and Nolan are with comms."
"Yeah, but unlike your boss? You're good for a lot more than that," Pete pointed out, tilting his head to nuzzle her cheek. "Leave him to it next time and come throw a spanner into the works instead."
"Come?" Kitty raised a brow at the wording. "Are you joining X-Force?"
"Not sure joining's the right word," Pete allowed. "Told the Professor I'd lend a hand if they needed. Not sure he'll take me up on it; I said a few choice words about how he was running the works. But he's mucking about with people's lives out there, and he needed to hear them."
"You realize that X-Force is really Scott's thing, right? I mean, technically the Professor handles it, but it's really Scott making the decisions," she told him.
"Yeah, not all that impressed by him either," Pete groused, more on principle than anything.
She eyed him with an amused smile. "Not everyone can be STRIKE."
Pete snorted. "STRIKE wasn't worth much, either. Might've been," he allowed, "if Orpington-Smythe hadn't had his head up his arse half the time. There were some damn good people there, people who knew what was what and could think on their feet. Problem with X-Force from what I've seen is you've got too many people waiting for orders and then going off half cocked instead of following them. The Brotherhood," his tone made it clear what he thought of the same, "isn't much better."
"So what, are you going to form your own team?" Kitty asked curiously.
"What?" Pete's eyebrows climbed into his hair and his face assumed a horror-struck expression. "Me? No! I'm just taking the piss, Kitty. I'd be bloody awful as a team leader." He smirked a bit. "Truth be told, I was bloody awful as a team member. Probably still giving Orpington-Smythe nightmares whenever he chances to think of me. Hope so, anyway; hate to think I made no impression on the wanker."
"Well, X-Force isn't all bad. I mean, it could be better, sure, but we're still getting our bearings, you know?" She traced a little X on his neck thoughtfully. "And I think they could definitely use yours and Betsy's help."
"Dunno." Pete smirked. "I might be busy with the whole PI thing, or corporate security or whatever. Conflict of interest, yeah? Might have to report myself for vigilantism."
Kitty rolled her eyes and punched him gently in the arm. "You think you're cute."
"Oww," Pete protested, giving her an injured look as he rubbed at his arm, despite the fact it hadn't hurt at all. "Never figured you for a bully, Pryde. And I'm not cute, I'm just a smart ass."
"Yeah, unfortunately for me, you're a cute smart ass," Kitty huffed softly, wrapping her arms around him again.
"Might want to get your eyes checked," Pete observed as he pushed her hair back and started kissing his way down her neck. "Could be you need a new prescription."
"What?!" Kitty huffed, but didn't bother moving away from those kisses - okay maybe actually leaning into them a little. "I do not need a prescription at all, thankyouverymuch!"
Pete chuckled. "Pryde, if you're calling me cute, you either need your eyes or your sanity checked. Figured I'd go with the former. Less likely to get me phased through the floor." 'Course, he was also hoping that the attention he was paying to her neck might factor in his favor as well. With that in mind, he scraped his teeth over it lightly, then soothed the spot with his lips, gradually moving his attention lower.
For a moment, Kitty was speechless, unable to keep track of the conversation when he was doing that, and her body was responding in ways it never had before. In fact, she wasn't even sure whatever they were talking about mattered anymore, so she just replied, "Something. Yeah. Checked. Probably...."
"Kinda like that I can make you go all incoherent." Probably obviously so, given that she was on his lap, but if she wasn't complaining, he wasn't about to. Instead, he continued working his way down to her collarbone, and slid one hand up her side slowly, enjoying the feel of her skin through the filmy dress.
Kitty could definitely tell, which only added to her incoherence, because while she had made out with Bobby before, he'd never quite gotten her feeling like this. She slipped her fingers into Pete's hair, letting her eyes slip closed, arching slightly at the touches through her dress. "Don't gloat..."
"Not gloating," Pete protested into her shoulder, though he had been, a bit. "Just being properly appreciative of the moment. And the company," he added as he slid his hand up over the side of her breast, rough fingers catching a little on the fabric. He peered up, though, to see her reaction. He was pretty sure Kitty'd had a bit to drink, at least, before he arrived, and he wasn't sure just how far she'd gone before. If she didn't want to go further, he wanted to know it.
Kitty was drunk, no doubt, and not just on alcohol. The whole evening had been like a dream. (She had a dragon egg!) And now, here, with Pete, like this, she felt hot all over, and glanced down when he glanced up, eyes glassy but eager. "Me too," she breathed, briefly tugging at his hair.
Pete tilted his head back and arched an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he asked, a faint actual smile playing at his lips.
Slowly pushing to her feet, she grasped his hand tightly in hers and tugged in the direction of the bedroom, a smile on her lips. "Yeah."
"Sure this isn't something you're gonna regret come morning?" Pete asked as he let her pull him to his feet. Not that he was about to complain, himself, but the question needed to be asked, even if she was just looking for a change of venue. He'd heard she'd dated the snowcone, but he hadn't gotten the impression that had gone all that far. Maybe not even as far as making out on the bed.
“Nope.” It wasn’t really clear whether that was a ‘No, I won’t regret it,’ or a ‘No, I’m not sure,’ but she tugged him into the bedroom anyway and shut the door.
Which I was possibly reminded of by Felix and Shinobi's also forgotten log. Oops!
Kitty looked around at her frankly wrecked apartment and sighed. At least she could hire cleaners to help? Maybe. But for now, she started moving around the room, shutting down the holoprojectors.
And from the sounds of things, he'd timed it just perfect. Pete smirked, just a little, and swung his gift bag by its strings as he headed towards the door of Kitty's apartment. He was pretty sure he'd seen a couple of her mates up the road a bit, probably heading for where they'd parked their cars or for public transport (he'd opted for the latter, himself, not having any urge to brave traffic worse than London's). In any case, he couldn't hear any music pounding, which suggested the party was over. Perfect. He leaned on the bell and waited for her to answer. And hoped he hadn't totally made a hash of the gift.
She'd just shut down the karaoke machine when the bell sounded, and she frowned for half a moment in confusion before remembering the off-hand invitation she'd given. "Oh. God," she breathed under her breath, and turned to look in the mirror on the wall near the door to check her hair. Why had she asked him to come at the end again? When she looked her absolute worst? She was still half-buzzed, exhausted from singing, and her makeup wasn't nearly what it had been a few hours ago.
She turned toward the door, smoothing her dress and shifting her strapless bra beneath so it fit...better. Then she sighed bit her lip, sighed, and opened the door. Behind her, the lights were still dim, bits of light floating through the air in the areas where she had yet to turn off the holoprojectors, the city's skyline just visible through one of the clock windows at the end of the hall.
"Happy -" Pete broke off as he caught sight of Kitty, looking - well, she was always gorgeous, but she'd definitely taken it up a half dozen notches from there. The backdrop didn't help, either - dim light, somehow speckled with lights that had no immediately discernible source, and the city's skyline behind it. "Cor," he breathed, because his brain didn't seem to be able to handle much more than that.
Kitty had been reading up on British slang lately, so that... she actually understood, and flushed a little. "Uh, yeah. Hi. Sorry, you missed the real magic," she told him, nodding toward her apartment. "I was trying to make it like a fairy wonderland or something."
"We went to Magic-land already. This beats it, hands down." He pulled his eyes away from the background to meet hers, and blurted, "You look bloody amazing, Pryde."
The little bit of flush intensified two-fold, and she glanced down with a smile before opening the door wider for him. "Well. Don't just stand in the hallway."
"Yeah, wouldn't want the neighbors to see the riff-raff you've got coming and going," he joked. He stepped in past her, pausing to brush his lips over her cheek. "How'd the party go? Anyone pass out in the loo?"
"I haven't actually checked," she admitted, warming two-fold at the brief kiss. She closed the door behind him, and shrugged a little. "Let's hope not?"
"Dunno - not sure it even counts as a party if everyone actually walked out on their own two feet." Pete smirked, then belatedly remembered what he was holding and set the bag down on the table. "Any drinkables left? Or did they clean you out?"
Kitty laughed softly and took him by the hand, leading him toward the kitchen area, which was set up as a buffet - once brimming with food and drinks, now a total wreck. "I've still got a little. What's your poison?"
"Scotch if you've got any." He grabbed a couple of plastic glasses and the bottle in question, then looked over at her, raised his eyebrows, and grinned. "Wouldn't want me drinking alone, would you?
Kitty eyed the bottle. "I mean, I've never actually tried Scotch..."
"Sure you have, I dosed your coffee with it once." Pete smirked as he poured a few inches' worth into the cup. "Takes better straight, though."
"I'll have to take your word on that," she told him, looking speculatively into her cup.
"Or you could try it," Pete suggested. He held his own cup up to bump hers. "Happy Birthday, Pryde. How's it feel to be one step closer to legal?"
"I'm not sure this really counts," she smiled sideways, but bumped his cup anyway. "But yeah, either way, it feels pretty good. Maybe I won't feel so much like a kid now that I'm sixteen?"
"Mebbe? You don't look like a kid, that's for sure." Pete leered appreciatively for a moment, then smirked and tossed down the Scotch. That done, he shrugged and added, "Anyway, the way I figure it, you're working a full time job. Once you're doing that, you're not a kid, no matter how old you are."
No matter how 'grown-up' she was supposed to be, she still found her cheeks growing hot at the way he looked at her. She took a sip of the Scotch, coughing slightly afterwards, then shook her head. "Well, I don't think most legal authorities would agree with you on that."
"Eh, bugger the legal authorities. What do they know, anyway?" Pete shrugged and jerked his chin towards her glass. "If you don't like it, don't drink it. Not gonna push you into it." Which she should know, but just in case she didn't, it was worth saying.
She eyed him, but grinned impishly and reached for a nearby coke bottle, pouring the contents in with the Scotch. "Don't scream in horror, okay?"
Pete settled for shuddering. "Bloody American, that's what you are," he teased as he poured a little more of the bottle's contents into his glass. "Next thing you'll be putting beer in the fridge."
Kitty laughed, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. "It's already there. Not that I drink beer, because I don't, because gross, but I had to have some here for all the bloody American boys that do."
"Now see? You could be arrested in England for that," Pete pointed out, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. "Should take you back there and show you a proper pub."
Kitty's eyebrows went up, even as she slipped her arms around his neck. "Oh yeah? Gonna give me a tour?"
"Could be talked into it," Pete countered with a smirk. "If you want, that is. Introduce you to a coupla my mates from the intel agencies if you want; total wankers, all of them, but not bad if you like the type. Show you 'round London, too." It didn't sound like a half bad idea, actually. He'd just have to figure out if the money he had left from STRIKE would cover a couple of round trip tickets. Or see if he could get a better price from that purple girl who teleported, one or the other.
"I could probably get Nolan to write it off as a business expense or something?" Kitty told him thoughtfully, taking another sip of her drink.
"Could, but you'd be going by yourself, then," Pete countered, his expression growing stubborn. "I invited you, didn't I? I've got a few quid saved up, still. Had a salary before I got shipped 'cross the pond. Pretty sure it'll cover two seats to London, with enough left over for a few pints."
Kitty frowned slightly at the rebuff, but she supposed she should have expected it. Pete was nothing if not Stubborn and Independent. "Enough for a hotel room?" she asked curiously.
Mollified in that at least she wasn't arguing the point, Pete's lips twitched up a fraction. "Now, there you might be pushing it. But it's likely I can swing something like, yeah."
"Pete, you know I could probably handle it, right?" she pointed out.
"Yeah," he acknowledged. Letting Kitty pay was less of an issue than expensing it to Nolcorp. She earned her paycheck, genius that she was, and probably a whole lot more. "Tell you what, if I fall short, you can pick up the tab. I need to find myself a new job, though."
At that, she took his hand, leading him over to the couch, which had been pushed all the way up against the windows to make way for dancing and karaoke. Little motes of light still danced around the room like lightning bugs, the only real light in the room. She tugged him down, tilting a look at him. "You want a job?"
"Need one," Pete countered as he plopped down beside her. "Graduating again, and I'm not heading off to University, so I need to find something. Not sure what, though, 'less I go back to England and try my luck with MI-6 or some shite."
"Really?" Kitty frowned. "You're thinking of going back?"
"Nah. Just saying, there's not much call for a former spy." He shrugged and offered her a smirk. "I'll figure out something. You'd have to work a lot harder to get rid of me. Have me deported or something, maybe."
"There's plenty of work for a former spy," Kitty told him, shoving gently at his shoulder. "And trust me, if I wanted to get rid of you, it'd be a lot more in your face than deportation."
"Drop me straight out the window, would you? That's what I like about you, Pryde, you don't mess around." He grinned, because it was nothing but the truth, then reached over and wrapped an arm around her. "Not so sure about the plenty of work bit, though. 'Less you're suggesting I hire myself out as private security or some such."
Kitty shifted until she was sitting sideways in his lap, one arm around his neck, her other hand still cupping the glass. "I wouldn't bother with a window. I could drop you through the floor. But as for the work...there are agencies here. Or private investigators? There are even investigators that work for firms like NolCorp, who look into corporate espionage. Or you could start up something of your own."
"Could," Pete allowed thoughtfully, mulling that over. "Maybe I'll talk it over with Bets, see if she'd be interested. Something like that might go better with a partner, and I can't see you leaving NolCorp to be a PI." He grinned and leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "Be crazy to, when you've got your dream job already."
Kitty remembered their adventures in Yorkland, and felt something tug in her belly - a kind of want. She wasn't sure if that was due to the nuzzling or the thought of being a private investigator with Pete, but as she leaned into him, fingers curling into his hair, she couldn't help thinking that being a PI would be kind of a dream job too. Of a different sort. Ugh. Futures were hard. "Yeah," she finally said distractedly. "Maybe."
"Maybe?" Pete pulled his face out of her hair and looked up at her, confused. "Thought you were into the whole corporate inventor thing."
"I am!" she huffed, then tucked her face into his neck instead. "I am," she muffled at him. "but I keep thinking about Yorkland, and what I was there."
Pete moaned and arched his neck. "Professional thief? Hell of a career switch - or maybe not, being as you're management and all." He stroked his hand slowly up her back and added, a little wistfully. "We made a good team though, yeah?"
"Yeah, we did," she agreed, lifting her head.
"Should try it again sometime. When you've got vacay coming or something." Pete smirked. "Must be somewhere about that needs a couple of bloody do-gooders to risk their lives every five minutes. The East End comes to mind."
Kitty raised a brow at him. "My face is kinda known. I mean, not totally, but a little."
"Didn't think of that," Pete admitted with a frown.
"I"ve got my Shadowcat mask," she said thoughtfully. "But I've never really gone out in public with X-Force before. I'm usually left behind to monitor things."
"Which goes to show this place doesn't know what they're about," Pete grumbled. "You set someone to monitor who's a waste in the field, not someone who can think on her own and kick the assholes in the nads."
Kitty smiled and nudged his jaw with her nose. "Yeah but you know how me and Nolan are with comms."
"Yeah, but unlike your boss? You're good for a lot more than that," Pete pointed out, tilting his head to nuzzle her cheek. "Leave him to it next time and come throw a spanner into the works instead."
"Come?" Kitty raised a brow at the wording. "Are you joining X-Force?"
"Not sure joining's the right word," Pete allowed. "Told the Professor I'd lend a hand if they needed. Not sure he'll take me up on it; I said a few choice words about how he was running the works. But he's mucking about with people's lives out there, and he needed to hear them."
"You realize that X-Force is really Scott's thing, right? I mean, technically the Professor handles it, but it's really Scott making the decisions," she told him.
"Yeah, not all that impressed by him either," Pete groused, more on principle than anything.
She eyed him with an amused smile. "Not everyone can be STRIKE."
Pete snorted. "STRIKE wasn't worth much, either. Might've been," he allowed, "if Orpington-Smythe hadn't had his head up his arse half the time. There were some damn good people there, people who knew what was what and could think on their feet. Problem with X-Force from what I've seen is you've got too many people waiting for orders and then going off half cocked instead of following them. The Brotherhood," his tone made it clear what he thought of the same, "isn't much better."
"So what, are you going to form your own team?" Kitty asked curiously.
"What?" Pete's eyebrows climbed into his hair and his face assumed a horror-struck expression. "Me? No! I'm just taking the piss, Kitty. I'd be bloody awful as a team leader." He smirked a bit. "Truth be told, I was bloody awful as a team member. Probably still giving Orpington-Smythe nightmares whenever he chances to think of me. Hope so, anyway; hate to think I made no impression on the wanker."
"Well, X-Force isn't all bad. I mean, it could be better, sure, but we're still getting our bearings, you know?" She traced a little X on his neck thoughtfully. "And I think they could definitely use yours and Betsy's help."
"Dunno." Pete smirked. "I might be busy with the whole PI thing, or corporate security or whatever. Conflict of interest, yeah? Might have to report myself for vigilantism."
Kitty rolled her eyes and punched him gently in the arm. "You think you're cute."
"Oww," Pete protested, giving her an injured look as he rubbed at his arm, despite the fact it hadn't hurt at all. "Never figured you for a bully, Pryde. And I'm not cute, I'm just a smart ass."
"Yeah, unfortunately for me, you're a cute smart ass," Kitty huffed softly, wrapping her arms around him again.
"Might want to get your eyes checked," Pete observed as he pushed her hair back and started kissing his way down her neck. "Could be you need a new prescription."
"What?!" Kitty huffed, but didn't bother moving away from those kisses - okay maybe actually leaning into them a little. "I do not need a prescription at all, thankyouverymuch!"
Pete chuckled. "Pryde, if you're calling me cute, you either need your eyes or your sanity checked. Figured I'd go with the former. Less likely to get me phased through the floor." 'Course, he was also hoping that the attention he was paying to her neck might factor in his favor as well. With that in mind, he scraped his teeth over it lightly, then soothed the spot with his lips, gradually moving his attention lower.
For a moment, Kitty was speechless, unable to keep track of the conversation when he was doing that, and her body was responding in ways it never had before. In fact, she wasn't even sure whatever they were talking about mattered anymore, so she just replied, "Something. Yeah. Checked. Probably...."
"Kinda like that I can make you go all incoherent." Probably obviously so, given that she was on his lap, but if she wasn't complaining, he wasn't about to. Instead, he continued working his way down to her collarbone, and slid one hand up her side slowly, enjoying the feel of her skin through the filmy dress.
Kitty could definitely tell, which only added to her incoherence, because while she had made out with Bobby before, he'd never quite gotten her feeling like this. She slipped her fingers into Pete's hair, letting her eyes slip closed, arching slightly at the touches through her dress. "Don't gloat..."
"Not gloating," Pete protested into her shoulder, though he had been, a bit. "Just being properly appreciative of the moment. And the company," he added as he slid his hand up over the side of her breast, rough fingers catching a little on the fabric. He peered up, though, to see her reaction. He was pretty sure Kitty'd had a bit to drink, at least, before he arrived, and he wasn't sure just how far she'd gone before. If she didn't want to go further, he wanted to know it.
Kitty was drunk, no doubt, and not just on alcohol. The whole evening had been like a dream. (She had a dragon egg!) And now, here, with Pete, like this, she felt hot all over, and glanced down when he glanced up, eyes glassy but eager. "Me too," she breathed, briefly tugging at his hair.
Pete tilted his head back and arched an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he asked, a faint actual smile playing at his lips.
Slowly pushing to her feet, she grasped his hand tightly in hers and tugged in the direction of the bedroom, a smile on her lips. "Yeah."
"Sure this isn't something you're gonna regret come morning?" Pete asked as he let her pull him to his feet. Not that he was about to complain, himself, but the question needed to be asked, even if she was just looking for a change of venue. He'd heard she'd dated the snowcone, but he hadn't gotten the impression that had gone all that far. Maybe not even as far as making out on the bed.
“Nope.” It wasn’t really clear whether that was a ‘No, I won’t regret it,’ or a ‘No, I’m not sure,’ but she tugged him into the bedroom anyway and shut the door.
