1964-01-04 - All About Pie
Summary: Scott and Kitty catch up and discuss the drug that's making waves…
Related: Buy the Ticket Plot
Theme Song: None
kitty scott 


New Year, new you. Scott's resolutions are vague but they all involve being more…out. Out in the world. Being "out" as a mutant is kind of hard to hide, though some of the beatniks he's seen around are into red glasses, so that…maybe he should be a beatnkik and no one would notice the glasses as much.

He slides into a booth, nose numb from the cold, and orders coffee from the really cute waitress while he waits for Kitty. It's hard to tell if the waitress is being flirtatious or if she's got something in her eye. Scott doesn't want to assume.

*

The light paced, nearly skipped, paces bring the curly haired brunette into the diner. A broad toothy grin greets Scott with a flair of vivacity that is clearly uncontainable. "Scott," the warmth of her tone is unmissable. And then her eyes flit towards the waitress, her lips part, and she takes a single step back — a small hum emits from the back of her throat, "Oooooh." Her eyebrows lift and her grin grows.

She slides into the booth, "He's totally single if you want his number." Way to interfere Kitty, way to interfere. "And he's smart. And can drive. Plus he's bright with leadership skills." Her gaze turns to Scott. She's beaming. Enjoy the hot seat.

*

Scott does not sink under the table. "You know, you're a little too eager to get rid of me, Kitty. People are going to think there's something you're keeping from them." He can't help laughing. It's Kitty.

"Don't mind her," he says to the waitress. "She likes to help. She's going to be a yenta when she grows up."

*

Kitty's chin lifts and she shoots Scott an easy lopsided grin, "I don't plan to ever grow up." The other side of her lips meets the first. "While you write your number down, could you get me a cup of coffee? Big. And very black," her nose wrinkles before she turns to look at Scott once again.

The waitress retreats and she sinks into her seat and undoes her scarf and tugs the gloves from her hands. Both are abandoned to the table, and she leans forward. "Seriously. You should ask her on a date. A movie. Or… dinner. I think she'd say yes."

*

"I don't date, Kitty." Scott sounds resigned about it. He is resigned about it. "Some day I'll meet the right person who works as much as I do and we'll both keep…working. And that'll be great." He shakes his head at that. "No, I mean it. It will be. I don't have the time for the kind of relationship a nice girl like that deserves. Can you imagine? Running off in the middle of a date to fight aliens or something?"

*

"You should date," Kitty says in return. "You'll never meet someone if you don't, you know," she shrugs. "Put yourself out there," she reaches across the table to jab him in the arm. "Come on, you're a catch! A strapping Summers' boy — any girl would be lucky~" yup she's virtually singing.

With a cluck of her tongue she notes: "I still run off in the middle of the night with my sword in tow when the occasion merits. Of course," her eyes turn upwards, "always have Petey in my corner if I need it." Her eyebrows lift and she shrugs. "But not everyone is so lucky to just, you know, flirt at someone for months and have it turn into something." She shrugs. "So. Dating! It's a thing. I've been told."

*

"I'm hoping some of your luck will rub off on me and I'll meet someone at…work. Such as it is. Life at the mansion is—well, why don't you tell me how life is out with the average folks. Because you know how life in the mansion is. It never changes." Scott pauses to give the waitress a smile when she returns with coffee. And her phone number.

"Oh. Thanks. I…" He looks over and knows what he's going to see on Kitty's face. "I'll be using this." Or Kitty will use it for him, he suspects.

*

Kitty looks like the cat that caught the canary as the waitress slides Scott her number. Her eyes sparkle with unbridled mischief, and she tucks into her coffee. "Thank you~" she says about her coffee. As the waitress retreats, her expression softens and she shrugs. "Well, our community turned chaotic with… everything that's happened the last while." Her lips purse lightly. "You hear anything about this drug? Kids are calling it Vigor. Nasty stuff from what I see." She shrugs and shudders.

*

"Jeannie brought some home. There's the last thing she needs." Scott winces at the thought. "What gets me," he says, keeping his voice down, "is that it gives average people powers. I thought it was just setting off mutants. But it's not. Does that means that somewhere in our genetics, as humans, we have those powers? Or is it magic? I would rather it was some kind of magic or alien thing, kind of. If there's a way to make everyone into mutants…I don't know. I'm biased, I guess."

*

"But it doesn't last," Kitty offers in return. "It's got no permanently lasting effects… besides the whole wanting more and more," she cringes and then shakes her head before shivering in slight disgust. "I'm doubtful anyone could make mutants." She shrugs. And then with a vague twitch of her lips, a pseudo-tell she notes: "Unless… well. I mean, I can think of applications. I just don't see how it would be possible. But then, physics is more my thing."

*

"But where does it come from then? Business is my thing but…both of us know that in business and in physics, you can't make something out of nothing. You can only make it look like you did." Scott sips his coffee, then tilts his head thoughtfully. "Anyone else asking that question? Where those powers are coming from? Because the only answers I can think of are…terrible."

*

The coffee becomes incredibly interesting as Scott speaks. Kitty's lips purse. "I don't know," she finally admits. "I really don't. I mean, it obviously comes from somewhere, but I'm not a chemist and I'm not a biologist. I can't even begin to think of ways to pose that question. And if someone wants to check the sample Jean got — " her shoulders shrug. " — that could mean progress, right?" Finally her gaze turns up to Scott, "So… what answers do you think?"

*

"Two choices." Scott shrugs. "One: it triggers something that's already in those people, opening them up to powers they can't access otherwise. That idea is kind of horrible because it'll take about three seconds for the military to work the kinks out and start feeding it to soldiers. Can you imagine Vietnam with super-powered soldiers right now? On the other hand, that means mutants aren't anything special. It just means we're closer to accessing that power."

He taps the table, looking apprehensive. "Two: whatever makes the power comes from somewhere else. Either they've learned how to make certain synthetic powers that come in a pill, which the military will also get hold of, and the gangs, and…everyone. Or they've learned how to put our powers in a pill. They've learned something about how some of us make what we do happen, and they've bottled it. And they're getting that from us or studying us. There is no answer I like, Kitty."

*

KItty inhales a slow breath. "I don't think any of the choices are ones we want. Synthesizing anything and giving people powers… that's not good. Taking it from someone else?" She cringes. "Shouldn't we have heard something about that? I mean, if it was taken from people, shouldn't there be… I don't know… people missing? That was the thing about the whole Weapon X program. People were missing." Her lips purse lightly. It's an important thought.

*

"I could try talking to the Professor, see if he knows anything." Scott exhales sharply. "I don't think it's just drugs, Kitty. I'm starting to think it's an experiment." He looks at the napkin with the number on it in blue pen, loopy big numbers the way girls like to write. "You know, some day, it'd be great to have something like sports to discuss. No?"

*

Kitty's nose wrinkles. "I prefer dance. And the weather," she shoots him an easier smile. "But yeah, talk to the Professor." She shrugs slightly, "And for the record, it's good you're still kicking around there. Someone has to head up the investigations and keep all those kids in line." A spark of delight reflects in her eyes as she reaches into a pocket and leaves a few bills on the table.

*

"Tell that tank you call a boyfriend to come around and get some training in some time," Scott says. "I miss having someone to knock around the room. Everyone else is too squishy and I don't trust Logan not to come after me when I'm sleeping if I hit him too hard."

*

"I'll see what I can do," Kitty muses with a small arch of her eyebrows. "I noticed you didn't ask me to train." She shrugs, "It's fine if you're still too scared. We both know I could take Pete down," her nose wrinkles; it's possible because he'd let her. But she's quite confident regardless. She slowly slides out of the booth.

*

"That's because you don't need it. And you don't make that satisfying *bong!* when I bank you off a wall like an eight-ball." Scott stands up to offer her a hug before she goes.

*

The hug is quickly returned and Kitty chuckles at the thought. "No, I just go through the wall and come back through the floor." Her eyebrows lift, she shoots him another smile and she takes a step back. "Seriously though," she motions with her head towards the waitress and mouths the words: 'Call her.'

*

Scott will, if only because he knows Kitty will check. She's relentless. It's part of her charm. He tucks the napkin away and then gives the waitress a smile. Won't hurt to stay around a little longer. The pie here is worth it. That's why he's staying, Kitty. Pie.

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