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[steelartisan]

Katya is in the laboratory she's claimed as her own. Utopia has a lot of laboratories; this means that anyone who wants to stake a claim can do it with a little determination.

Granted, Kate's willingness to throw wrenches at people who disturb her doesn't hurt. Likewise the gleam in her eye when she reminds people of just how many months she's been without caffeine.

Piotr's not sure what she's doing in there so often, but he figures he'll find out eventually. He's not bothered. He's seen it a couple of times, anyway, but he's not the mechanical genius; what he sees is a lot of complex bits of machinery in no working order, and his girlfriend scowling at them and muttering under her breath. It's probably not all that different from what she sees when he's figuring out a new painting, to be honest.

But she's been down there for several hours today, and he's not totally sure she emerged for any kind of lunch. Which is why he's making his way there now. (With a sandwich.)

Comments

[prydeful]

There is cursing.

In many languages.

It gets louder as he approaches.

This may warrant approaching with caution.

[steelartisan]

...Ah.

It's that kind of project.



Piotr knocks lightly on the door.

[prydeful]

The curse happens to be in Russian, enabling him to understand exactly where he and his left testicle can choose to go unless they bring help or a boyfriend.

Cursing is so much more fun when you have more options!

[steelartisan]

Piotr's eyebrows fly up for a second.

She did not learn that one from him. (She did not learn any curses from him. Piotr is kind of a Boy Scout at heart.)



In Russian, mildly: "Does lunch count as help?"

[prydeful]

"Yes," she responds after a moment in the same language, "if you can get me off my back. I'm stuck. And if you laugh, I'll rip your larynx out."

[steelartisan]

You don't date Kate Pryde without coming to find casual threats kind of endearing.

Nonetheless, Piotr doesn't laugh, or even stifle it. His brows draw down in immediate concern, and he pulls open the door.



...Oh dear.

[prydeful]

He is a good boyfriend-lover-person. He wins an award.

She groans when he has her up and then looks slightly bemused when he keeps her on his hip; she also doesn't protest.

You date a guy twice your size, you get used to this.

"Hey, handsome. I've got a surprise for you."

Last time she said that--well, first time she said that--he ended up walking through the air and falling to the floor in the attic.

Caution may be wise. Again.

[steelartisan]

Caution is very often wise.

On the other hand: Piotr has been an X-Man for many years. Caution is a flexible term.

He glances at her in inquiry that's only very mildly wary.

[prydeful]

"So. We are in--well, okay, not California, thank you, Scott, but. The point being, we are not in New York. And what is in New York?"

[steelartisan]

...Uh.

Many things.

Piotr is pretty clearly trying to come up with the right answer, which is presumably relevant to the... vaguely elevator-esque contraption Kate was recently wedged inside.

[prydeful]

She sighs and raises her eyes to the ceiling. "I'm in love with a Luddite. What is in New York is the door to the bar. And I'd kinda like to let some of our friends know that in about two months little girl Rasputina is showing up. Ta-da. We have our very own portal to Milliways, 2.0. And this time I did it on purpose. Kiss me, it was much harder than doing it by accident, so I deserve a reward."

[steelartisan]

--Kissing her he can do!

Piotr has an awesome girlfriend. An awesome girlfriend who can build an interdimensional portal to allow them to see lots of old friends again. (This is only one of the many, many reasons she's awesome in Piotr's opinion, but it's a relevant one at the moment.)

"You are a genius, my Katya."

She knows this! It's plain fact.

"I will be glad to see old friends." And Milliways has been useful for more than that in the past, and may be again -- he'll never forget that -- but for right now, they don't need a refuge. So it can be a reunion just for reunion's sake, which is always better.

[prydeful]

"You're just realizing this now?" she grins, and is content to kiss him again.

"It's just about done. In fact, I was thinking you and I need a date. Do you know how many dates we've actually gone on? Let me give you a clue: you can count them using just the fingers on your hands. And yet, I am pregnant with your child and in a committed relationship with you. So I think we need a date."

Kate considers.

"Also, to finish with the baby-name-picking thing."

[steelartisan]

"...A date," says Piotr, "is a very good idea." He's aiming to sound grave, and succeeding at sounding entirely pleased instead. "We are very overdue."

He considers for a moment.

"Of course, if we try there will probably be killer robots. Or aliens." Or killer alien robots!

This is how their dates go. Isn't it nice to be an X-Man?

[prydeful]

"No. No killer robots! No aliens! No explosions!"

There's a pause.

"...Why was I thinking the Bar was a good place to go for it, again?"

[steelartisan]

Uh.

"It is usually quieter than our dates here?"

Sadly, this is actually true.

[prydeful]

She sighs.

"I wish that weren't true. I really do."

After a moment, Kate smiles a little anyway and pulls Piotr down for a brief, soft kiss.

"She's going to be here soon, y'know."

There's really only one she for them, at the moment.

[steelartisan]

His face warms, predictably and entirely.

"Da. She will be."

[prydeful]

"And then I can move like normal again," she says contentedly, "...and will be doing so during the middle of the night. Many times. Which will be broken up by my kicking you out of bed to do the same.






"Did I mention the terror bit still hasn't gone away?"

[steelartisan]

Fondly, "Once or twice."

It's stuck around pretty well for him, too.

He's okay with waking up in the middle of the night, though. Not looking forward to that part, but more than okay with it. (Talk to him in a few sleep-deprived months, though.)

He kisses her lightly. "You will be a wonderful mother."

[prydeful]

She shakes her head a little, but it's with a smile, and mostly because she knows he's incredibly biased.

"Maybe, Petey Pureheart, but you--you're going to be the best daddy this little girl could hope for," she says firmly, as Kate places his hand on her stomach.

And, since they're avoided talking about it too much, both things, "And we'll keep her safe--and when I phase and come back, we'll go on a vacation. An actual family vacation type deal," she concludes, nuzzling his neck after a moment. "I have some ideas on the subject."

[steelartisan]

Piotr makes an inquiring noise.

About the vacation ideas. It's an idea he's going to contemplate with warm optimistic fondness for a minute, even if right on the heels of it comes the conviction that there is no way they're likely to manage an entire vacation without any emergencies, invasions, or supervillains.

(Piotr misses being able to be an optimist with all his heart, instead of only a little bit of it.)

But no matter what, they'll protect their little girl, and each other; cynical or not, he can be fiercely determined about that.

[prydeful]

She just strokes his cheek for a moment before saying, lightly, as she shifts away from him and goes to take a bite of the sandwich he brought her.

"Call me cliche, but I've enough love for Japan that I'd like to see the cherry blossom festival when it comes. Besides, weddings during the festival bring good luck."

Kate makes a face.

"Did you put mayo on this?"

[steelartisan]

Later, she said when he asked her to marry him, and sometime, and he hasn't asked since. If they discuss it, it's obliquely, or carefully casual and carefully vague. She said she would tell him when she was ready.

And this isn't that, but -- it's a step, however deliberately light it might be, and even if she changed the subject right after, and Piotr can't stop his face from lighting up just a little after the first instant's surprise. (He never has had much of a poker face.)

"The cherry blossoms sound beautiful," is what he says, after another moment, and he means it for much more than the flowers. Much more.

And -- right, subject change, and question, and the look she's giving the sandwich. Uh. "Da?" Kate likes mayonnaise fine, and always has. "Should I not have?"

She likes mayonnaise fine, but Kate's food preferences have been switching around very rapidly these last few months.

[prydeful]

"Sorry," she says mournfully around the mouthful, and then gives up and reaches for the napkin.

She can't bring herself to swallow it.

"--Okay, your daughter needs to settle on what she likes and not interfere with what I like," she says plaintitively, and sulks slightly, glaring at the sandwich as if it might be a secret Skrull.

[steelartisan]

"I am sure she is very sorry."

Lies. Giant, giant lies.

Even aside from the fact that she's a fetus and unlikely to care, she's also Kate's daughter, and Kate has always had a mischievous streak as wide as Piotr's arm.

"We could go up for another," he starts -- he'll eat this one; it's a perfectly good sandwich, and Piotr doesn't believe in wasting food -- and then pauses.

With half a smile, "Or you could get one from Bar."

She does make good sandwiches.

[prydeful]

"God, why do we not play poker? I could so wipe you out," she says sadly.

And then grins.

"If you want. I mean, it's not like I'm going stir-crazy stuck here."

It had been suggested to her that another pregnant mutant might not be the best thing to be seen.

She hasn't been off Utopia since setting foot on Utopia, and she's ready to lose her mind. Maybe. A little.

[steelartisan]

"That is why we do not play poker, my Katya."

Because, despite many years as an X-Man, Piotr retains a few shreds of self-preservation instinct.

He grins back, though. Mock-solemn: "She is a very good cook, I remember."

Better than anyone in Utopia! Although that's more of a compliment to Bar than an insult to everyone here; there are a few awful cooks around the place, but also some very good ones.

[prydeful]

"You are cruel to me, Piotr Nikolaievitch," she says in Russian, unable to get rid of her grin.

"Da? Would you carry me across the threshold, then, oh love of my life?"

[steelartisan]

"I am," he answers in the same language, entirely amused. "It is tragic how cruel I am."

A slight rearrangement for ease of walking, and across the threshold they go!

Or across the transdimensional portal. Whatever.

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[(Anonymous)]

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