1963-07-18 - More Than One Kind of Spy
Summary: Kurt passes on information about some of the mutants he's met.
Related: Quite a few!
Theme Song: None
fury nightcrawler 

Another day, another dollar. Nick's been coming in late in the evenings and more often than not, leaving after getting his four hours of sleep. This day, however, is a change in pattern and he's in the kitchen frying up some bacon in his cast iron skillet and has biscuits out on a cooling rack. He may not cook much, but the basics, he's got down thanks to his perpetual bachelorhood. Off to the side, the radio plays; he's got it on a 40s music station with the occasional burst of news coming in.


Nightcrawler found a job! By day, he looks after the kids in the neighborhood, making sure they stay out of trouble when they play outside. By night, he's working at a bar in Mutant Town — pretty much the only place that would hire him and he knew it. But it means money, albeit a little, will be coming it. It also means that Kurt needs to get used to getting less sleep than he had the last six weeks or so. The lure of bacon, however, is enough to wake the dead.

Stumbling out some from where he's been sleeping, Kurt stretches and yawns and pads over to the kitchen to take a good sniff of the food. "Guten Morgen. Why are you not at work?" He'd offer to help but only if there's room in the Kitchen.


Hot bacon comes from the skillet and onto a plate, only to be replaced by the biscuits to sop up the grease. Good stuff right there!

"Morning." Beat. "Here. Have some." It's not a request as Nick puts a plate of the already prepared on a counter closer to the mutant.

"Meetings today," comes by way of excuse. Nick turns about while cooking up the last bit of the bacon, "You have any other problems out there? Kids have been pretty quiet."


Nightcrawler takes the offered plate with a baleful sort of look…he does need to help around the place at some point! He's trying to make sure he's neat and clean, at least. It helps that he doesn't own that much.

A bite is taken of the biscuit and bacon and there is a nod of approval as he chews. Once he's free to talk again though, he offers, "I met your boss. She gave me her card. She seems like a very tough lady. Is she? Why did she come here?" That's the first order of business. He has more. "The kids are fine. The kids are great, really. I think I will be sad and lonely when they go back to school," is offered with a grin.


"You met Director Carter?" Nick twists around to look at Kurt, trying perhaps to discern any other information from the young blue mutant. "She's a smart lady." It's easy to admit that. "Been friends for years." Though now, he's curious, even if he does turn back around to tend to what is left of the bacon in the pan and turn off the burners. "What'd she tell you?"

Once the burners are turned off, Nick sets the skillet to the side and wipes his hands on a handtowel that was thrown over his shoulder. "She came to talk and to clarify a job description for me. Too many people involved and the message gets muddy."


"Ja, I met her in the hallway," Kurt points with his tail since his hands are full of biscuits and bacon. "She said that she heard about me," he looks a little sideways at Nick, "And she might have a job for me. Working for you, maybe?" It's not even fishing. More like he's not sure if she was speaking the truth. "She gave me her card, but I know you work for her and I did not want to call to see what it was about without talking to you first." Not that working at the bar is terrible as he's meeting new people.

However, mention of her card causes him to frown before he offers, "You know…I met another, ah, mutant last night at the bar." They're all mutants there. "He looked different too. But he was telling me again about this school. Speaking almost the same words about it!" He takes another bite of the breakfast, "I think it may be a…was ist in English…a Kult?"


While the thing with his tail might freak some people out, Nick is pretty used to (and accepting of) the fact that it is literally another limb for the elf. So, when it is used as a mere extension of himself, Nick looks automatically in that direction and he nods his understanding.

"I really don't like the idea of you working for her. For us." Nick has never really explained what it is he actually does; what organization he's involved with, and the like. But, the cat is out of the bag, and he's outed by, of all people, his boss. Still…

"Did she say what it was that she was looking for you to do?" He'd like to see the card, too, just to see if it had 'SHIELD' written on it anywhere.

Sadly, the term 'mutant' seems to be gaining traction, even if Nick doesn't like it. He takes the couple of steps to the table and pulls out a chair to sit down heavily. "That school.. or research office, I've heard it called, assuming it's the same thing. I'm looking for it. I want to meet these people you're talking to. Think we can do that? Do you work tonight?"


Nightcrawler seems to consider Nick's words for a moment about working for him before he nods, seeming to understand. Maybe. "She said 'part-time'. She did not say anything more about it, but I have her card." It's with the one from the man from the Cult-School. "I'm not entirely an innocent, Herr Nick," Kurt finally offers quietly. "I have seen a lot. I know you are trying to protect me and I thank you for that, but…the world is changing and I cannot hide from it all. I think I will not be so upset by fighting now." Maybe. It's his hope, at least.

But, back to other topics. "There was no address on the card I got from the man in the Church, but I can give it to you too. Tonight I do have to work," and there's a little slump of his shoulders before he brightens, "They are training me to make drinks. It is not performing, but it is something so I can help pay you back."


"As far as I'm concerned, Kurt, this world owes you a huge apology. You managed to live several lifetimes by the time you were 10, so yeah.. I'm not willing to see you in the middle of the fray where you could be killed. Me, that's a different story." Nick doesn't touch the food now, and instead pulls a cigarette from a pocket and lights it there at the table, taking the first pull before he begins again.

"Me? I'm a spy. I still kill people for a living. Bad guys. Bad, bad people who think people like you and me belong dead or in some ghetto somewhere." Or in a cage. "The war hasn't stopped. It's just gone underground, and with people with powers rising, it's getting a little harder to fight." Nick takes another pull on his cigarette before,

"I wanna talk to those people in that school of theirs. I wanna know, if the battle comes, what side they'll be on. Even if they're neutral, that's an answer, and it's an acceptable one. We'll keep going with or without them."

Nick takes the cards and looks them over before he puts them on the table. "They're yours, Kurt. You've got a job, you're meeting people, and you're getting on your feet. You'll always have a place here, but I'd be a really crappy parent if I didn't help you settle in and have you be able to take care of yourself like any other young man."


Kurt shakes his head, "Nein, Herr Nick. The world owes the apology to the people who died. I lived, with thanks to you and the other soldiers. But so many died because of what they believed in or what they looked like or who they loved." He looks down at his mostly empty plate then, "I can get out of messes very fast," his grin returns. "But your worry is good to hear." Comforting, almost.

As Fury explains what it is he does, his yellow eyes widen, "Like…James Bond?" Ever the cinephile, this one. "That is amazing!" And now Fury is even cooler than he was before, if that's even possible. His soldier is a spy! It's almost like that's the best news ever.

He does sober up some when Fury mentions talking to them. "I don't know…" he does seem unsure about it, especially now. "I don't think they meant anything bad, but it was weird…they all said the same thing to me. Like it was something they were taught to say." Like a Cult. As the cards are returned to him, he looks from them to Nick, his smile returning, "I -am- twenty-six, remember? I have lived on my own for some time…I sometimes had roommates in my trailer with the Circus, but I do know how to take care of myself. I can even cook some too, if you would let me. Though," he looks to his plate, "Not this good."


Nick actually chuckles at the comparison with James Bond. "Yeah, something like that." He can't help but see the fact that his 'coolness' factor just got ratcheted up a few notches. "Calm down, though. You don't see my ass in a fancy car or anything. That doesn't happen. Not unless you're the Director or something. Everyone else are working stiffs."

The reticence is noticed as well, and the next drag on his cigarette comes with the smoke released through his nose. "Yeah, that's kinda creepy. I won't do anything but talk to them. Just try and get the measure. I won't embarrass you, and I sure as hell wouldn't jeopardize your job there."

With the reminder, Nick chuckles again, "Yeah, yeah. You might have, but you were somewhere else. You sure as hell weren't in the City. It takes a special kind of someone to live here, and you got that. Just let me help because I wasn't there years ago, okay?" Nick stubs out his cigarette finally and reaches for his biscuit and bacon before he continues, a smile remaining behind the laugh. "The proper answer is 'Yessir'."


"If you get a fancy car though, can I drive it?" Kurt grins even wider. "I don't think you are a…uh…working stiff and the kids out there think you're very cool. I think they think you're with the police. Or they might even pretend that you are a spy. I will not tell them though." He finishes off his plate and leans back some in the chair he's sitting in.

"Maybe you should not mention me when you talk to them? They can find me…one can, and if I am working at the bar, it might be best. But," his smile fades a little and he shrugs, "I trust you."

When cities are mentioned though, an eyebrow goes up, "I have lived in London and Paris and Rome and Vienna. The cities were not so bad because I was known." It was the countryside and the smaller towns and villages that were difficult. However, the guidance of the response causes a laugh and he even gives a three-fingered salute, "Yessir!"

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