1963-10-18 - Denoument
Summary: David and Kitty have coffee after Stryker is arrested.
Related: Missing Pieces Plotline (Stryker, You Lunatic!)
Theme Song: None
maverick kitty 


There's nothing quite like O'Rourke's pub around dinnertime - it's busy and loud, but not the sort of 'loud' one finds at bars in rougher parts of the city. This is a much warmer atmosphere.

It makes David stick out a bit, a lone stormcloud on an otherwise pleasant night. He's seated alone at a corner table with a newspaper open in front of him and a mug of coffee in his hands, a pensive frown on his face as he reads. Occasionally, he looks towards the door to see if his company's arrived yet, then returns his attention to his reading, fingers drumming against his mug.

*

There is no storm cloud over Kitty Pryde as she treads into O'Rourke's. Her yellow chiffon dress, cheery steps, and ringlets of hair around her face make her seem a lot sunnier than her company. Sunglasses are tugged over her eyes as she moves into the room.

The sunglasses are set on the table before she slides into her seat opposite David. "Hey," she says softly before looking at the paper. "So… it's been a very newsy few days — " to put it lightly.

*

On the bright side, the expression on David's face lightens considerably once Kitty actually arrives. He immediately folds up the paper and offers her a smile, raising his eyebrows in amusement. "Hey. Little bit," he agrees dryly, setting the paper off to the side.

He waits long enough for her to sit down before he tries to wave a waitress down for her. No fair for him to be the only one with a drink, after all. "They never seem to get my picture when these things happen. It's uncanny."

*

"Hey, Old Man," evidently Little Bit is her new title.

Kitty's eyebrows lift comically. "That would've taken the pressure off me. Considerably." Her lips purse lightly. "My parents are freaking out." The response is blunt enough. "They always read the New York papers. And so far I've managed to avoid any more attention because, well — " the picture features her in her fight-vampire clothes, and she's decidedly overdressed for fighting vamps.

*

"It was the swords," David says wisely, keeping hs voice down. The bar is loud, but not so loud that being overheard is impossible. Besides. Common courtesy. "You just made for a better picture. Don't let it go to your head," he teases, picking up his mug when he spies a waitress on her way over. "Fame is a fickle mistress~"

*

Kitty smirks at the assertion, "They don't even know who I am. Besides 'unnamed New York mutant'." Her smirk grows into an easier grin. "And, for the record," she waggles her finger pointedly, "I always make a better picture." She slides the sunglasses to perch on her nose again before pointing at herself, "I make this look good." A light chuckle escapes her lips as she sets the glasses back on the table again. When the waitress arrives, Kitty straightens, "Uh. Just a coffee for me. Thanks."

*

Once the waitress retreats, David's right back to grinning across at Kitty. "In all seriousness. You handled yourself incredibly well. Made me proud to know you," he says easily, raising his mug in a salute. "So for tonight, we should enjoy this, and then tomorrow… we'll figure out what comes next." Because it isn't over, and he knows it.

*

Kitty's cheeks flush brighter pink. Her lips timidly twitch, and she suggests, "I spent some time training in Japan before I ended up hooked up to an IV. I can, sometimes, handle myself. If I have to," her face feels hot. "And besides, anyone could've done it. They would've. I just… had a tool that held up." Her relief at that is palpable. "I honestly didn't know. I mean, I knew I'd be okay — that's the beauty of doing what I do, just…" she shrugs.

"Do you think John is going to be okay? I want to bring him flowers or something."

*

"I couldn't have done it. She was too fast, I'd have been in pieces without you." David seems to have absolutely no feelings of self consciousness about telling this to a woman, let alone one young enough to be his daughter. He sounds pleased. "We were lucky you were there. Thank you."

David's expression does sober at the question — but not much. He's still smiling, just not as broadly. "He'll be fine. Not saying this makes it okay, but: he's survived worse. All they've done now is pissed him off," he says with a quiet chuckle.

*

"She was fast," Kitty agrees quietly. "Well trained, and those nails were terrifying. I can't imagine how many could hold up. I'm just lucky I," was possessed in Japan by a ninja demon?, "have some experience dealing with quick folks." She swallows hard and shoots David an easier smile. "And, to be honest, I didn't even know if sinking her into the floor would work. Rapid healing is a talent I envy. A lot."

She grins at the thought of Sinjin being pissed off. "Well, I hope that it gives him something to write about. If he's going to be agitated, hopefully it's in the right direction for things we should question and choices we should make." Her lips press together into a thin line. "I feel like, if anything, all of this has made me wary of comfortability."

*

"Good. Looking for something comfortable's what got me into trouble," David says with a wry smile, setting his mug aside. "Life now is anything but, which I'm going to keep telling myself is a much better position to be in. Even if that 'rapid healing' talent is, I'm sure, the only reason I do not now have a head full of gray hairs." He briefly puffs up his cheeks before hanging his head.

*

Kitty tucks into her mug, giving the coffee ample attention. Her fingers tighten around the cup while her hazel eyes train on the table. "It's weird," she offers to the table, "I don't think I trusted myself to be able to handle… well, anything." She inhales a slow, deep breath. "Not anymore." She swallows the growing lump around her throat. "I got out of that place not because I could walk through walls. I did it because when push comes to shove, I can take care of myself. Yet once I was out, I forgot somehow. I slipped into a comfortable pattern of letting others handle my problems."

Her eyes turn up towards David, "No one else cares enough to do it. They say they do, but they don't meet the problems head on and make change. You're rare, David. Not even some of the people I trust most in the world were as bold as you were."

*

"Bold," David echoes, and he can't help the amusement that comes to his voice. "And here I thought I was just stupid enough to leap before I look. At least, that is what people keep telling me. 'Bold' sounds much more respectable."

He reaches across the table to give Kitty's hand a light pat. "It's easy to forget what we're capable of. I did. After we got out, Heather had to drag me kicking and screaming out of a very dark place," David admits quietly. "And I'm still finding myself again."

*

"You didn't let it go," Kitty says earnest. "I know people capable of some pretty incredible things, but I found more help from you than from them." Uncertainty tugs one side of her mouth downwards. The pat earns him a flicker of a smile. "It is easy to forget," she agrees softly. "But maybe it's because forgetting is comfortable. Action is hard. And I don't mean just revenge, I mean… justice." Her eyebrows draw together tightly.

*

David studies her for a moment, steepling his fingers and watching her over his hands. Then, he hums quietly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but… it sounds like you're disappointed in some people you didn't expect it from," he says slowly, with a very small, sympathetic smile. "Been there."

*

"You're not wrong," Kitty replies softly. "But then, maybe I expect too much." She takes a long drink of her coffee. "I think maybe if I want to make a difference I have to choose to do it. Without asking anyone else's permission. But maybe…" her eyes train on David "…with some guidance…?" The expectant lift of her eyebrows act as an invitation.

*

It's an expression that David mirrors, though he also gestures questioningly at himself. Who, him? He starts to open his mouth, then pauses to actually think about it.

"…that might be kind of fun," David muses thoughtfully, slowly nodding his head from side to side. "Best guidance I can give you? Honestly? Talk to Heather." He grins lopsidedly and shrugs a shoulder. "She's a hell of a lot smarter than I am, and better at logistics than anybody I know. If you want advice on what to do next, she'll help you think through it."

*

"There are a lot of vigilantes out there," Kitty muses softly. "And I know they operate in different ways. But to be honest, maybe this city needs a group apart from the rest, you know?" Her lips creep into a slow smile. "Maybe." The smile extends and she nods, "I will. It's not like I have no talents to offer and nothing to recommend me. Even now, maybe we can use this to bring people on side. It'd be good if people started to see mutants better. I don't know. I started this whole journey because civil rights are important. For everyone."

*

"You should definitely talk to Heather," David laughs, leaning back in his seat and regarding Kitty with completely unhidden fondness. "The fact that there's no official team of costumes to go to when there's a problem like the one in Central Park… I think she takes it as a personal insult. Drives her crazy."

*

Kitty laughs lightly. "Well, then maybe Heather and I can coordinate something! There are plenty of people out there who are capable of amazing things. Great things! But they don't have the will. Or the means. But maybe… maybe we could change that." She issues him a one-shouldered shrug. "Maybe." Again she laughs. "I'm just a Jewish girl from Iowa. I'm not supposed to think these things, but if people aren't thinking them — if people aren't doing anything — well, nothing will change."

*

David raises a finger. "First step — don't put too much stock into what you're supposed to think about," he says wryly. "That's a quick road to mediocrity, right there, and you are not made for mediocrity." He scoops his coffee back up, winking at her before he has a drink.

After a pause, he purses his lips. "Trying to decide if I'm going to the police with what I know," David admits. "I'm still wary. I don't know."

*

A small nod follows David's assertion. No, Kitty Pryde was not made for mediocrity. Her smile grows at the thought. "See? Good advice already~" she sings before taking another drink of her coffee. "I'll aim to be extraordinary then. And seek out justice. Everywhere."

David's admission causes Kitty's shoulders to sink. "Well," her head cants to the side, "I've debated too. I have to admit, in some ways it feels like a trap, but then," her jaw tightens, "maybe there's safety riding this thing out. Like," her eyebrows lift, "to my knowledge no one has outed me to the Bugle yet, but it's just a matter of time. Maybe controlling that story has power. For all of us."

Her lips purse lightly, "If you do it, so will I. But I'm not sure I want my parents to know what happened. They don't know I was taken; they still think I forgot to call for three months." Her eyes turn downwards, "Just easier that way. Worry comes too easily."

*

"They've offered immunity — perhaps anonymity isn't off the table," David suggests, cracking a small smile. "I'll see what Heather thinks and let you know, I suppose. It does feel like a trap. The Project hasn't been shut down, just handed to someone else. That alone puts me on edge." He rolls his eyes, grumbling darkly. "How anyone could look at the evidence of what Weapon X had been doing and see something to be salvaged is beyond me."

*

"And maybe it is a trap, but they already have my picture snapped on a giant paper battling one of their agents. I'm not sure how easily I can hide from it," Kitty presses her hand to her forehead. "Not that anyone has outed me as one of theirs. But they know. Which is unsettling enough."

She frowns. "I don't know what they aim to salvage, exactly. They were doing research people. Weaponizing people. Changing people. Not sure any of that can be salvaged. Not really."

*

"They can already give people powers," David says in a low voice, leaning forward and looking a touch… guilty. "I wasn't born with my rapid healing. That was a perk of the job," he admits with a rather tight smile. "So there's plenty there to twist into something more palatable to the suits in charge and public opinion."

So much for just enjoying the victory tonight. At least David seems apologetic. "…anyway. Talk to Heather. Next step for both of us," he says dryly.

*

The smile subdues and slowly, thoughtfully, Kitty nods — a solemn, overly acknowledging action. "I still wish I could deliver my own justice to Stryker, but — " her head cants to the side " — it's probably better this way. My boyfriend said it's easy to lose yourself to this stuff. Truly."

She nods at the notion of talking to Heather, "I will. But you have to help with whatever this thing is. Whatever it means. I can't… I need guidance. I'm too young to know things."

*

"Age shouldn't be your benchmark, Kitty. Especially in this kind of work." David props his chin up in a hand, gesturing airily with the other. "So many of us start very young that by the time we're… well, your age," he says with a wry smile, "we're old hands. Doesn't mean you should know everything, but you know a hell of a lot more than most people your age do."

*

"Experience then," Kitty returns. "And you're right, it's not just age. My parents are older than me but they couldn't counsel me about this." Her eyes lid lightly. "And people I expected more from, well," she shrugs. "It's fine. I'll be my own damned hero. If no one else will step in, I will do the job. I'll contribute where I can."

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