1963-11-21 - Just Worrying
Summary: Piotr and Kitty catch up on the events of the last few weeks.
Related: NA
Theme Song: None
piotr kitty 


The climate in New York is cold, and it's not the weather. Piotr is free of the worst of it, looking as human as he does. Even being Russian isn't as much of a burden as it used to be.

"At least," the man at the news stand said to him one morning, "you're from this damn planet. If I gotta have a problem with someone, it ain't about to be you." Piotr didn't know what to do but thank the man and move on with his paper.

ALIENS IN NEW YORK. That was the real news. Even being a mutant was starting to take second place to that problem. At this rate, people were going to be jumping to get mutants to help out. Who else was going to save them?

It made the subway ride easier. It made everything easier, really. Piotr felt, for the first time since he'd left Russia, like he was starting to belong here. Maybe it was because people hated other things more than they hated what he was, but maybe that was just an opening for him to prove they never should have thought that way to begin with.

That left him room to worry about Kitty, and that's something that takes a lot of space in his head. So much so that he can hardly focus on his art. Usually, he'd go to get some sketching in after work but, since she'd come home not herself a few days ago, he can't afford the time. He goes straight home, in the chilly morning light, to make sure she was okay. Opening the door to their apartment, he stifles his concern under a smile.

"Katya? Are you awake?"

*

The dilapidated kitchen table somehow looks even more rickety under the weight of many physics tomes that line it. Books are opened to various pages and a slew of paper notes have been strewn about the room in a strange array of 'nerding-out' Kitty. Coffee bubbles in the pot on the stove — a clear fire hazard if ever there was one — as the dark fluid has begun to burn to the bottom. How long has it been under such heat? It's anyone's guess.

Scribbled notes have been taped to the walls, some with arrows to other points, mostly confirmed through scrawls of formulas that are, nearly nonsensical, and, occasionally theoretical — only learned through the vast array of information contained in the texts.

A quiet clatter on the fire escape announces the brunette's presence as she crawls back inside the house with a notebook, likely containing equal parts nonsense and science, under her arm. A glance is given to the clock hung on the wall, and she offers with some surprise, "You're early. Or…" she looks at the clock again, nope. She definitely lost an hour somewhere. She must've fallen asleep. On the fire escape. Well, that was safe. "I normally have this put away before — " it's a confession of sorts without actually confessing anything. Her cheeks feel warm with blush and she clears her throat, "Hi." Pause. "I missed you." Smiiiile. Nothing to see here, Piotr.

*

"This is. A lot." Piotr looks around slowly as he comes in to set his things down. "Why would you hide it from me, Katya?" He looks more hurt at that than worried for the moment. "I know I don't have your education, it would hardly mean anything to me, but I could help, perhaps?"

Now, Piotr looks worried. "Have you not been asleep? It's morning, did you get up early?" He inhales, realizes that the coffee pot is boiling dry, and goes to turn it off. "Whatever it is, you don't have to hide it. Even if you think you do…you don't. I promise." Piotr exhales sharply, then gets to cleaning out the coffee pot, to start it fresh. "At the least I could have brought you breakfast. Made you some coffee that isn't burnt to syrup."

*

"Uh…" Kitty cringes as she peers about the room. In fact, the mess look like the makings of a mad-woman bent on some random obsession that does not quite make sense. Absently, she rubs the back of her neck, "It's not… I'm not sure what I'm …" her eyebrows draw together and she frowns.

"I didn't want to worry you." It's the truth. "But something weird happened in Central Park yesterday. I don't…" she squints and frowns. "I'm just trying to put it together. On a theoretical level, I mean." Her eyes flit about the room, but nothing seems to coalesce or make sense. "It's not about the education either, it's the whole what-I-can-do-thing and how it does or doesn't make sense to me." She lifts a hand absently and then offers, "I went for a run in the Park and I tripped. But not… not like I normally trip. This was like," her eyes turn up as she considers the pages with formulas, "tripping on something. And I flickered. And then — " she frowns and her head shakes because she still hasn't made sense of that part, "I'm just trying to piece it together is all." She manages a tired smile. "How was work?"

*

"I could tell something weird happened," Piotr says dryly. "You're not a very good liar, Katya. Not with me. The truth comes out of you on some other wavelength." He finishes putting the coffee pot on before he turns around to look at her.

"Work was work. I am a security guard, not a high risk job. Sometimes someone asks me a question and short of a heist at the museum, which isn't going to happen, it is the same every day. Not that I am complaining." Piotr holds up a hand. "It pays the bills. And it is a good job — I am not the only Russian there, I get to speak my language with friends, and on the way home at the shops. I get to come home to you. And…this, apparently. Katya, something happened with your power. You should have mentioned it to me. And it obviously is bothering you because this is…a lot."

*

"I'm glad that work is… working out," she smirks following the phrase. "You should feel like you belong here. IN this place. It's your home and has been for a long stretch…"

"And you should be glad I'm a terrible liar. It means if I'm not telling you something, you know." She looks pointedly at him. "And… It's not that much," Kitty offers in return. "Some of it is longer-term studying," she insists quietly as she closes the distance between them. "So, I took physics to get what I can do better. I mean, on a mental level. And typically, I can make sense of it. So, matter is in three states right? Solid, liquid, or gas. By separating my cells and breaking down into molecules, I can walk through things. I enter an extremely gaseous state. Which then enables me to move through other particles. Like walls, doors, whatever." Dismissively she waves a hand. "Most of the formulas I've scribbled," she points around the room, "are just a reflection of what I know I can do. It's theoretical because no one in science has proven it. But, I mean, it's obviously possible to pass through matter." Because she does it. Regularly.

"This," she points to an equation in the corner, "Is where it gets weird." She squints. "I'm not sure I understand what happened, but it was like… being jumbled up and then forced back together." She frowns. "Almost as bad as the facility, but more odd. Like… something pulled me apart, mixed me up, put be back together, and forced me to the ground." She tilts her head at Piotr, "I passed out. I'm fine. Just… trying to make sense of it is all."

*

"Matter is mostly made up of space," Piotr says, "much like the inside of my skull. So it makes sense that things pass through each other if one of them gets out of the way of the other." He chuckles softlygrows serious again, then . "Something put you back together? Did it trigger your mutation or did your mutation do something to you to protect you? It sounds as though something tried to scatter you and you drew yourself back together. Did something else happen at that time?"

*

"Well." Kitty's lips hitch up to one side in a comical smile. "First I tripped. Then… this woman and this fellow came through — " she shrugs. She has no way to explain it. " — from nowhere. And the fellow had a weapon that was somehow technologically," her fingers splay and oscillate in a 'spirit fingers' kind of motion, "odd. It was blue. And I can short out technology." Her eyebrows draw together. "Normally. So I walked through it. And then weirdness happened, and I don't know how to make sense of it." Her shoulders shrug. "Meanwhile I'm worried someone is wandering New York with something that… destroys matter, I guess?"

*

"That is a concern, that latter part. Okay, so this person had an item that let them travel from nowhere, so we can assume it disrupts things, no?" Piotr starts digging around to get out the ingredients for breakfast. "Not technology — at least not our kind — so probably magic or 'might as well be magic'? And you exposed yourself to it deliberately?" Piotr pauses but it's only to give Kitty that 'really, Katya?' look that carries an implicit sigh of resignation.

"The weirdness was you feeling as though you came apart and went back together, yes? Perhaps you accidentally triggered it — or perhaps you did short it out and that's why you were able to come back together."

*

Kitty shrugs. "I didn't know it was weird besides the fact it was technology, and I was concerned for people in the Park," she shoots Piotr a pointed look. "You would've done the same. In a heart beat. Without thinking." Her lips purse lightly. "And, here's the thing, I'm doubtful I'd do it differently in the future. It was a reaction and way to try to stop someone who needed stopping."

She sighs and begins to tug the formulas off the wall, "Yeah, that was the weirdness. It was so dizzying. Honestly, Pete, I've never been that disoriented. And, I appreciate the optimism. If I shorted it out, then it's done. But if I didn't," she frowns.

*

"If you didn't then it could be a problem. Is there any way to see if something is wrong with that area?" Piotr gets out the eggs. "Do you want pancakes? Or should I make something else?"

"And, yes, I would have done the same. But I am not criticizing. Just worrying." He comes over to give Kitty a kiss. "I do not have to like you putting yourself in danger do I? I would not change you but I also cannot get very excited about your risking the most important thing in my life."

*

"Exactly. And a long-term problem at that," Kitty sets the papers in a neat stack on the table and begins closing the books. "Mmmm. Pancakes would be lovely," she reaches her hands around his waist as he moves to kiss her. An easy smile follows the kiss. "You're too good for me," it's wholly honest. "And to me. I missed you last night. I really didn't sleep," and there's the truth of the matter. "And not just because of what had happened. Although, that was part of it. Our bed felt cold."

Her eyes flit to the counter, and the newspaper on top of it. "We should… probably talk about the whole alien thing," a topic that has been mostly avoided in this household. "Especially with the Ed Sullivan nonsense." She can feel herself frown. "Things are getting kinda tense out there."

*

"I am not too good for you, or else I would not be here." Piotr kisses Kitty on the forehead, then pulls her in close to nuzzle her hair. "I can try to find work on the day shift so I can be with you at night. But, for now, you can take a nap with me later. After you eat."

Piotr lets her go reluctantly so he can make her breakfast. "Tell me about the "alien thing"? It has made people better inclined toward me because at least I am from this planet," he says with a rueful little laugh.

*

Kitty trails after him to the kitchen, and sidles behind him to wrap her arms around him from behind. She hums softly. "Well, at least something good came out of the whole mess." She inhales a slow breath. "It's unreal to me. If someone can do what that fellow did on national television without a second thought, I'm nervous about what kind of damage they could cause."

And then there was the rally. "I'm not exactly sure what that was at the rally either. I mean, one moment it was an elderly person and the next? Blue person trying to shoot me. It's fortunate phasing still works to protect me against most things."

*

"There are more than one kind," Piotr says slowly. He goes about preparing pancakes with Kitty clinging to him like a little limpet. As one does. "At least by the look of them. They are likely no different than we are. No better organized, which I hope is to our advantage. We've seen people who can change shape before. They are not going to be so different from us. Maybe more powerful, but we shouldn't assume. I am certain that they have their own problems. We could destroy ourselves as easily as they could. The end of the war, in Japan, has shown us that much. Perhaps they will bring us together in a new way."

*

"Right," Kitty agrees quietly as she doesn't let go, despite being the cling-on that she is while Piotr cooks. Yes, Kitty, you're so helpful. She yawns softly against him, "What I don't understand is why did they change at that moment, you know?" Her lips twist to the side thoughtfully despite the fact Piotr's back can't see the expression. "I mean, it seemed inopportune. I was going up the stairs to see if I could glean anything and they were coming down. I wouldn't have noticed if they'd stayed the way that they were." She inhales deeply. "It's not all the same, is it?"

*

"Did you interfere with them?" Piotr stops beating the eggs and turns carefully, so as not to dislodge her. "Did you phase through that person? Could they have some kind of technology that disguises them? Or were they injured in some way?"

*

"Maybe?" Kitty ponders the question. "I mean, I might've. I was reaching for their hand to help them down the stairs. It was a long way down." She sucks on the inside of her cheek pensively. "I don't know. I mean, maybe I disrupted something. I do it without thinking sometimes. I make the lights flicker when I don't use the door. Missus Hannigan," the next door neighbour, "thought we had a wiring problem. I figure out it's me." Her nose wrinkles.

*

"I expect you did. They have some kind of technology that you shorted out. Or maybe you caused a kind of reconstruction like the one you experienced." Piotr kisses Kitty on the nose. "You are the prettiest wiring problem I have ever met. Are you worried about them? The aliens?" He turns back to make their dinner.

"I wish sometimes I could talk to my brother. He had an education, a good one. But he is gone now." Piotr shrugs. It is what it is. "I wish I were better equipped for these things. I could actually help you with these problems, I could know things about these aliens, things that would be useful."

*

"Hey hey hey," Kitty offers lowly. "I happen to really like the artist that you are." She grins brightly. "And, besides, it's possible that maybe that's all it'll be, right?" The questions though wear a bit heavier on her, "I am a bit, I think. I mean… maybe it's nothing. But maybe it's something? Maybe it's something bigger? I don't know." She shrugs.

*

"Everything has changed, yet nothing has changed." Piotr starts the pan heating, then pours Kitty a cup of coffee. "Here. All that has happened is that we know more of what already was out in the world. They knew we were here. Now we know they are here. I would not say no to meeting one or two people from other worlds. Going to other worlds, even. But only with you."

*

Kitty accepts the cup of coffee with a stitch of a smile, and she presses up to her tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on Piotr's cheek. "You are a dream, Piotr Rasputin~" she virtually sings as she spins in a tight circle on her way to the fridge to retrieve cream. "And, maybe you're right. Maybe they were just shy or something. Maybe they'll even be friendly," despite trying to shoot her. Hmm.

*

"We can't even assume they're all the same. Maybe the ones who come here are the bad ones, the criminals. Let us be honest, those who come without announcing themselves, who hide and who lie, those are not necessarily the good ones." Piotr makes thoughtful noises as he beats eggs for the batter. "Some might be observers, scientists. Others might be escaping injustice…or escaping justice. Just like us, they are each going to have their own purpose. I suppose we must take them as they come, stay open-minded but not foolish."

*

"Fair," Kitty replies softly before sipping on her coffee. "It feels more and more like we need to consider options to help this world." A few careful steps bring her back to the counter — upon which she sits — while Piotr cooks. "It's kind of a mess. And more than ever I feel like our communities may need people like us. Or maybe not. I don't know."

*

"Oh, I think it will only be a matter of time before people begin to seek us out instead of seeking to lock us up." Piotr finishes putting the batter together and starts on actually making breakfast, batter sizzling in the hot pan. "But we must be cautious. How they plan to use us…well. We know already it can be for terrible things. But they do need us. You're right. Who else is better suited?"

*

Kitty shifts on her spot. "Right. Always cautious. But, if we make the choice to do… whatever it is we want to do," her eyebrows lift expectantly, urging Piotr to fill in the blanks. "And, at least we both have a partner in that, right?" Her lips purse lightly. "You should paint after you sleep. I haven't seen you paint for awhile. If it helps your inspiration, I can even make myself scarce." Pause. "After we eat and nap."

*

"I think you should stay." Piotr looks over his shoulder at Kitty, gives her a wink. "Being without you is never good for my inspiration. Being with you, well… we'll see what I can do. After you eat. And after you sleep."

*

"The sleep-eat combination goes for both of us, pumpkin," Kitty's expression sours. Nope. Not pumpkin. She utterly fails at the pet names. Utterly. "I can stay. I like staying, I just… don't want to be a distraction. But. If I increase inspiration…" Her smile brightens at Piotr. "I'm happy to help anyway that you need… not limited to, cleaning up the physics mess around the house. I got most of those from the library… while it was closed. I should probably return them tonight."

*

"I am not a squash." Piotr puts pancakes on a plate, then turns around, looking perturbed. "There is no part of me that is squashy! Or squishy. I hope. Really, Katya." He brings the syrup and the pancakes over to her. "If any of me is squishy, then perhaps I should go to the gym instead of painting."

*

Kitty cringes. "I didn't mean… I meant… I was just trying…" Kitty stares at Piotr several beats and then offers, "Uh… you're making fun of me… right?" Her eyebrows lift expectantly as she moves to the table. She looks up at him with just a hint of mischief in her eyes, "It wasn't meant as an insult, darling," nope. "I thought it would be sweet, my dear," wince. "And I'd hoped that I could finally find one that worked for you, my love," that one feels a bit better. "Sorry. Maybe I should just give up. I swear that I thought it would be sweet." Her eyelashes bat.

*

"I am what I am. I don't think any other name would suit me. Petya. Sometimes my mother called me that — Little Piotr. It is hardly suitable now." Piotr gestures at himself. "But I don't mind it. You could just call me yours and have that be enough." He shrugs and turns back to the pancakes. "I have never been suited to anything but plain things, Katya. It is sweet that you wanted something to call me, though. Pet names, they are popular. I could call you "kitten" if you wanted. Or "pumpkin". Though you are not squashy, either."

*

"But is it enough? I mean, we're sharing a life together, and I love it. And you. But I want you to know without a shadow of a doubt what you mean to me. Genuinely. I want you to know everyday that I want you. Not some approximation. Not some stand-in. You. I want to share my life with you. I want the world to know I'm yours. That you're mine. That…" Kitty manages a tired smile. "Sorry. I'm making something of this that it's not. As per usual. Just listen to Kitty make mountains out of molehills." She grins at the last, "And how is it that you could get away with either and I can't make one pet name work?"

*

"You are small and cute, so small and cute names are going to work." Piotr pays attention to the rest of breakfast so that he won't burn anything. "If you want to show the world I am yours, then I suggest that you kiss me more often. Rings are traditional for marriage, I believe that is why people wear them. But I am happy to wear anything you like. So long as it isn't pink…though, if you gave it to me, I would probably wear it anyway. Even pink."

*

"I can kiss you more often," Kitty offers with a nod. "In public. In private. Anytime, anywhere." She virtually beams following the point. "I mean, I don't need paper to tell anyone I'm yours or you're mine, but I guess I get the ring thing. Maybe." Her lips twist to the side. "And I wouldn't give you something pink. I mean, unless you wanted something pink, not that it seems like you want something pink." Her grin extends and she leans forward in her chair. "But i wouldn't just go out and find something pink to give to you, you know?" She smirks.

*

"I could buy red socks and eventually you'd give me pink underpants," Piotr says, laughing. "But no one else would get to see them. Eat your pancakes, Katya. If I thought it would last, I could get a tattoo, like a sailor. One that said "Kitty" on it. You, in one of those little hula skirts, on my arm? Then everyone would know." He's definitely teasing.

*

An easier smirk follows the suggestion. "I'm sure I'd look rather fetching in a hula skirt," Kitty counters as she finally cuts into the pancake. "Missus Hannigan began asking a lot of questions when I figured out her power problem. Evidently, a woman who knows a thing or two about power needs explaining. And then she wanted to know about your art. And whether you paint fruit baskets… or people. Which seems to me like she may be seeking to commission something. Or she was just making conversation. I can never tell." She stuffs a piece of the pancake into her mouth.

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