(no subject)

[x-storm.livejournal.com]

Storm and Kurt have Indian food, and Storm asks Kurt a rather personal question.




Chicken Tikka Masala. Malai Kofta. Lamb Vindaloo. Shrimp Masala. Matter Paneer. Samosas. Naan. It all lies stretched out on Storm's bed, (conveniently stripped of a bedspread), visible from the door. "I hope you like Indian," she says to Kurt, hanging behind her, "the place in Westchester is actually astonishingly good."

"I've never had it before, actually," Kurt eyes the foreign foods suspiciously, not knowing what anything is, "but it looks pretty good." He smiles in a charmingly disarming way, "but I'll try almost anything once."

"Aha! A willing victim." Storm grins and plops down on the bed, settling herself with her legs crossed. "Good. Try one of those..." She points to the samosas, then takes one for herself, balancing a paper plate on one knee. "So -- how have you been?"

Kurt tentatively puts some of the food she is eating on his plate, and sits down, copying her, "Really busy. I don't know how the kids here do it with all these classes! Having two is enough for me, what with trying to workout and meet everyone too." He starts awkwardly cutting the food and adds, "Plus I'm sort of a....well....Nightcrawler. I got the nickname for a reason, I don't sleep much."

She shrugs, breaking open the golden shell of the samosa and plundering its guts with a plastic fork. "Well, you don't /have/ to take more classes than you won't. You aren't technically a student." Blue eyes study blue mutant thoughtfully.

"Which we should talk about but - later." She laughs, a little. "I envy you. I don't sleep much either - but I /wish/ I could."

"The Professor told me at our last meeting that I didn't have to be a student if I didn't want to. But it would be such a waste to have all this knowledge *here* and not take advantage of it."

He chews another bite thoughtfully. "This food is pretty good. What is it again, exactly?"


Storm grins, wryly. "Not that I think any of us have much time to /be/ knowledgeable, these days, but... I'm glad you're enjoying it. Uh -- that is, you /are/ enjoying it, right?"

She idicates the food on her plate with her fork. "These are samosas, and the other stuff is... well, point and I'll tell you. That's naan --" she indicates pieces of flat, white bread, topped with chopped onions and garlic. "It's better if you eat it with your hands, just scoop some rice and some chicken or lamb on top of it..."

"I know I've told you this before, but I've never really gone to a school where there were other *students* to interact with. I love to hear their opinions on everything. They all seem so smart, I don't even know how they come up with the connections they make."

Pausing, Kurt follows her advice and nearly falls over trying to make the hand-to-mouth thing work.

"Practice," Storm deadpans, "lots and lots of practice." She takes a piece of naan and starts scooping long-grain rice onto it. "... like a fajita, Kurt. Have you ever had those?"

"Yes, when we transferred to the U.S. our new owner was from Texas, so we toured the southwest extensively," He chews for a moment. "Well, the entire south extensively, but especially the southwest."

"Lucky you." She fishes out bits of shrimp and adds them to the rice, ladling the curry sauce on top of it. "At least - do you like Mexican? Or, well, Tex-Mex?"

"I'm not really a picky eater. I like German and Austrian food, of course, I was raised on it. But most other food is good too. Once I came here I quickly learned to love Mexican food, and was addicted to guacamole. I would eat it on everything!"

"Tell it to Hank." An evil grin crosses Storm's face. "That's his opinion, too. Of course, /he/ eats peanut butter and gaucamole sandwiches..."

Kurt makes a disgusted face. "NOw Peanut Butter is something I simply do not understand. It's absolutely disgusting. It's like a lump of....*is at a loss for words*...something in your stomach. I don't know how these kids eat it all the time"

"Raised on it, probably." She tries hard not to smile. "It /is/ a rather acquired taste -- I like /Thai/ peanut sauce, though. That you ought to try." After that she falls silent, just eating for the moment, trying to figure out how to swing the conversation to what she wants to bring up.

She dabs curry sauce away from her mouth with a paper napkin. "I'm very glad you're here, Kurt, and that you've decided to... stay with us, for now. But I have -- something I need to ask you, probably because Scott and the Professor probably won't bother to *ask*, just assume..." For a moment, she looks vaguely uncomfortable.

Kurt frowns slightly, wondering what it could be. "Sure, ask away."

"Well - this hasn't come up much before. We're just in the process of formalizing..." She pauses, and frowns. "I'm making a mess of this. Look, you don't have to - you can stay just a grad student, or be support, or even go back to the circus, but -- would you consider joining the X-men? The team? -- actually, in this case, *my* team."

Kurt, who has been slightly hunched forward, leaning towards Ororo, sits up suddenly nearly upsetting his plate. He endearingly tries to keep anything from falling, and once he is back under control, he looks back at her with widened eyes, and shakes his head to get the hair that has fallen over his face. "The team? Be an x-man? On *your* team?" He pauses for a second, and then adds in a slightly lower voice "but you hardly know me....and I've only had two combat lessons, but I know I'll never be as much of a fighter as someone like Logan."

She restrains herself from helping him out with the food, but her fingers twitch a little towards the hair in his eyes. "Yes. My team - me, Logan as my second in command, Rogue, and Bo-- Iceman." Meeting his eyes, she nods once in aknowledgement. "That's true - but we already /have/ a Logan. What we /need/ is someone who can do espionage, who can do rescues... someone like you. Faced with a choice between five Logans and the team I have now? I'll take my chances with diversity."

It takes a bit of effort not to point out that for all he's "not as much of a fighter as Logan", he /did/ manage to take out nearly the entire White House security team.

Kurt doesn't reply right away. Instead he continues eating with a thoughtful, but relaxed look on his face. He's thinking about it, and doesn't have a problem with not speaking right away. The silence isn't oppressive or weird.

"I would be helping rescue people as a primary objective?"

Storm doesn't push it, just goes back to her shrimp masala. "Well -- yes and no. In a sense, every mission we do /is/ a rescue -- but for direct rescue missions, something like Alkali Lake, you'd be automatically on the short list. You and Kitty both, actually, once she gets her uniform."

"Short list?"

Her fork waves in the air. "Uh, slang term, I suppose. It means -- well, anytime we do a rescue mission, as long as you aren't injured, you're on the team."
Kurt furrows his brow, getting wrapped up in learning more about the x-men. He reaches across the bed to sample some more of the food. "Are there often injuries? When you and Jean rescued me, it didn't seem all that dangerous. Of course, you weren't really rescuing me from anyone but myself, I suppose."

"Sometimes there are, sometimes there aren't -- it really depends on the mission. Life as an X-man is..." A helpless piece of lamb feels the wrath of the fork, "... two months of stone boredom waiting for ten minutes of sheer, panicked adrenaline. Injuries happen, but..." She can't help but look sad, for a moment, "... until Jean, we didn't even /have/ a mortality rate."

"You may not have, but if you fight, and kill others, there is still death. I don't know if I could really fight someone to the death." He grins, "But I'm getting ahead of myself. I haven't even accepted your offer, I still want to know more."

Storm laughs, quietly. "What, would you like to see the details of our dental plan?"

Kurt smiles warmly and chuckles. "no, nothing like that. But how much do you train as a team? What sort of field exercises do you have? How do you build group trust?"

((Outward bound! Wait, no...))
((I mean GROUP SEX! ... I mean... uh....))

Together, they've made quite a dent in the food, and Kurt gets yet another plate, and then begins tidying everything up, bringing him closer to Storm

"We actually have one, you know," Storm explains, after swallowing the chicken. "A dentail plan -- and, again, it varies. As a team, together, usually only on weekends, and only for a few hours, except during special sessions... but to stay on the active list, everyone has to log at least ten hours a week in the Danger Room, either by themselves or with team mates."

"As for building trust -- well, we live together, and after a month on the team, usually a new member has had his life saved by everyone at least once, and usually pulled the team as a whole out of the fire, too."

Kurt leans forward, absently picking up clumps of rice and eating them. "If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have come with you in the first place." he pauses

"I suppose that I have to put my faith in you. And trust that whatever happens, happens for a reason." Kurt reclines, and continues. "I think I'm here for a reason, and maybe this is it. At any rate, there's nothing to be gained by saying no." He flashes her a grin. "So I guess I'll join your team"

"Thank you," she inclines her head, "I'm honored." After pausing herself, she lowers her voice and adds, with unusual solemnity, "I also threatened to challenge Scott to an arm-wrestling match if he wanted you for /his/ team."

"I think I would've bet on you. You carry yourself with great strength of character and purpose. Dignity. It's beautiful. I've become friends with several of the younger girls, Kitty, Jubilee, Sarah....they need a role model like you."

Shaking her head, she reaches for another napkin. "They need role models like /themselves/. I've never been a fan of that idea -- everyone has their own strength, their own beauty. They just need to find it. But, thank you." Another wry smile. "Although I did not fair dignified after Logan and I finished beating the stuffing out of each other."

Kurt gives her a wry grin. "Well, it's hard to feel dignified while lying on a mat, aching." His expression changes to one of concern. "Where are you sore?"

/That/ nearly makes her spit her meal back out. "Um..." Storm coughs, delicately, and reaches for her cup of water. "Everywhere, really. Although that one hit to my ribs..." She winces, just remembering.

"Well, in the circus, all the other flyers always came to me to sort out their aches and pains. I was the chiropracter/massuese/giver of backrubs of the troupe. But massaging a bruised rib probably isn't the best idea. I've had a few of those myself. Is is swelling, or just painful?"

"Chiropractor?" She perks up, slightly. "Does that mean you can crack backs? And... it's bruised. Rather blue, but that's all."

Kurt grins. "Crack backs, feel out stressed discs, find out where your muscles are strained....rather blue? That's one thing about me, bruises *never* show up."

She sighs and shakes her head. "Doesn't sound like much of a blessing to me, but..." Glancing back up, she reaches out and puts a hand on his knee. "You do have lovely skin, though."


Kurt is usually skittish about people touching him, but is more relaxed around her and simply continues "Well, it allowed me to train harder than I should've, because no one knew when I was hurt. I remember one incident where" he starts using his hands to gesture, gracefully explaining, "when I was learning to do a triple, and I hit the flyer's trap on the catch--the other flyer had let go of it at the wrong time--and it knocked the wind out of me, as well as leaving a welt on my chest" here he gestures to his lower chest, just above his abdomen. "But no one knew. So I kept training, and I caught it a week later."

Listening to the story, Storm winces with sympathy, but nods. She reaches out and lays her hand over the spot Kurt indicated, blue eyes meeting yellow in a /very/ firm (if concerned) Look. "Don't do that here, all right? If you get hurt, have Henry patch you up, and if you hit your limit, /stop/."


Kurt's breathing begins to get a bit more shallow, and everything around him seems a bit more intense. The aftertaste of the Indian food, the warmth of Ororo's hand, the smell of Ororo's room--so much like the woman herself--, and the fact that he's lying on her bed. He keeps his eyes locked with hers, and nods in agreement.

She smiles and nods herself, once, firmly. "Good. That's the point of having a /team/, you know," she chides, gently, "you don't have to do /everything/ yourself." Not quite breaking eye contact, she reaches up and brushes his hair back into place. "I like you. I'd rather not lose you - or someone else - because you didn't listen to what your body was telling you, hm?"

Millions of thoughts are racing through his head. She just told him to listen to his body. Right now his body was saying to wrap her up in his arms and kiss her....but I've never kissed anyone!...she's so beautiful...say a Hail Mary.... maybe he should leave, and get a better grip on what was going on....Oh God, what should I do? He breaks off their eye contact by squeezing his eyes shut. He reaches up to rest his hand on top of the one on his chest. *in a whisper* "I don't want to get hurt again either."

His mind is still reeling. He can't just lie there forever. Either he has to get up, or *do* something, and at any rate, he knows he must look incredibly naive and juvenile just lying there with his eyes closed. Who was he kidding? She would never be interested in him anyways.... but what if she is?

In all likelihood, her bending her over and kissing him carefully on the forehead (over a particularly beautiful scar) is not going to help resolve the questions either way, but that's what she does. And then goes silent, cleaning up the food as best she can from where she's sitting.

Eyes still shut tight, he senses the shift in her weight before feeling the light brush of her hair on his face, and then the soft touch of her lips on his forehead. As she raises her head again, and turns away, he opens his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's pretty sure the moment of...what? temporary insanity? whatever....has passed. He tells himself that was platonic. Just friends. She's *not* interested....who would be?

Blue eyes flick over to him, as she watches surreptiously, then nudges the remains of the paper bag aside. "Are you, ah, all right? You look a bit tired."

releasing her hand he sits up rather quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a bit..." in love with you? "... woozy for a minute." He's still looking at her with wide eyes, hair rumpled. He wants to go but can't quite make himself move yet.

She slides off the bed, looking away, and starts picking up the trash in earnest. "Woozy? I'm sorry. Are you /sure/ you are all right? Just stay there for a while, if you need." Walking over to the trash can, she dumps the remains of dinner inside. "I should probably go find Scott and Logan and talk about uniforms, anyway."

"No, really, I'm fine. And I need to go too. It's pretty late and I....I...needed to talk to Sam before bed."

"All right." Storm nods, calmly, letting a bit more of her public persona settle back into place. "Just don't over do it. Sit down, if you feel woozy. Drink some water. And say hi to Sam for me."

Kurt gets up off the bed and goes to the door, trying not to look as anxious and off balance as he feels. "umm. right. I will. And....you say hi to Scott and Logan for me."

"I will." A pause. "And Kurt? I'm glad you're here."