Chapter Three
Chapter Three
“No,” Kurt said, “I just do not agree. I think a mind altering substance would only detract from my ability to enjoy Lila Cheney’s best album yet.”
“That’s some Apollonian bullshit,” Pietro opined from where he lay on an inexpertly patched beanbag chair.
“Apolloni- hey, what did I tell you about quoting poets when we’re trying to listen to music?” Todd paused in fiddling with the sound system- or at least that small subset of it he had transported out to the living room- to fling a dirty sock at Pietro, who easily dodged it, but then paused, unwilling to actually pick it up and move it off the chair.
“One, it wasn’t a quotation, it was just a borrowing of useful terminology, two- while Nietzche was a poet, the reference is far more involved with his work as an aesthetic philosopher, third, it’s a stupid rule, fourth, I’m just saying,” the silver haired speedster went on, casually shoving Kurt out of his chair and throwing himself down in it, “it’s typical of an x-geek to think you have to try and think about this music like it was a homework assignment. You have to feel it.”
“I told you we never shoulda let him get that library card,” Todd groused. “But he’s got a point. You gotta stop trying to explain it to yourself. Science don’t know everything.”
“You know, music is like, pretty much all math,” Kitty, curled up next to Lance on the couch, put in. “It’s actually really interesting.”
“Lance, can you just kiss her or something?” Todd said. “Make her stop trying to ruin things with math?”
“What’s taking Fred and Tabby so long?” Pietro complained. “I should have gone out for the pizza myself.”
“Yeah, but then Tabby wouldn’t have had an excuse to steal my jeep, and you know she lives for that.”
“I mean, consider the lyrics,” Kurt went on. “On the one hand, she’s talking about space travel and Dyson spheres and stealing planets, but it’s also very personal to her, you know? I just think that I can appreciate it better with a clear head.”
“Do you kiss me to make me stop talking?” Kitty asked Lance.
“Shit, fuzzface. I didn’t ask you if you wanted to shoot up on smack,” Todd said.
“Of course not,” Lance assured Kitty. “I kiss you because you’ve got the cutest little mouth…” he leaned in, and Kitty put up a hand between them.
“I’m serious,” she said. “I feel like every time I start trying to talk about school, or the X-men, we just start making out. Do you think I’m, like boring?”
“Of course not! It’s just- can we not talk about this right now?”
“You don’t want to talk? Color me shocked.” Kitty said. She stood up, phasing through Lance as he reached for her hand, and stormed out.
“I should go after her,” said Kurt, teleporting out.
“Yo, that works too,” Todd said.
Pietro chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Lance asked between clenched teeth.
“They already put in money for pizza. Suckers!”
***
“Are you all right?” Kurt asked.
Kitty forced a smile. “It’s like, I don’t know why I’m surprised anymore. This is what we do, right? We get in a big fight over something stupid, and we stay mad at each other until one of us gets hurt, and then we’re happy together for like a month.”
“That…” Kurt chose his words carefully, “Does seem to be the pattern.”
“Am I kidding myself, Kurt? Should I just give up?”
“I am not sure I am the one to ask,” Kurt said. “If you had asked me a year ago if I could see us fighting alongside the Brotherhood for the fate of the world, or a week ago if I thought that I would be getting along so well with Toad of all people… you certainly know Lance better than I do.”
“I guess you’re right. Can you take me home, Kurt?”
“Of course.” He took her arm and the two vanished, moments before Lance’s jeep turned the corner.
***
“Pizza,” announced Fred, walking into living room. “Hey, where’d they go?”
“Lance screwed up again and Kurt and Kitty took off,” said Todd. “Lance is up in his room.”
“Staring at a picture of Kitty all angry-sad, probably,” put in Pietro.
“Well, anyway, we checked the mail,” Tabby said, throwing a thick stack of magazines at Pietro. He sat up and began flipping through them eagerly. “Hey, Todd, who the hell do you still know in the city?”
Todd tilted his head. “No one. Why?”
Tabby held up an envelope. “Because someone sent you a letter.”
“What?” He grabbed it with his tongue.
“You’re going to get a paper cut one of these days,” Fred cautioned him.
“I know what I’m doing,” he muttered, tearing it open. “Who the hell send letters these days anyways?” He pulled out several scraps, clearly cut from a newspaper, and ran his eyes over them. Then, abruptly his expression changed.
“Lance!” He shouted, hopping from the room. “Lance I need to talk to you!”