Insert disclaimer here . . . (like you haven’t read it before)

Alright . . . we’re onto chapter five and it’s Kurt’s POV again. May I just say that Grim Reminder was fantastic!! Except for the fact that Canada was once again portrayed on American T.V. as rocks, trees, snow, and mountains. At least they didn’t have random people walking around saying “eh?” 30,000 times. (I’m sorry, I just hate that this is the only impression most American’s have of Canada) And the Caldron looks amazing . . .

Also, I know Angeline’s car is not really realistic for a high school student, but I mean come on, is Scott’s? Besides, I plan to have a car like that some day. Right after I find out how to get paid for these fanfictions without getting sued by Marvel and Fanfiction.net (*Lawyers of both companies sit poised, pens ready, to sue my sorry butt*) Relax, guys, I’m just kidding. So, without further adieu:

OUTFOXED

Chapter Five: A Hot Time In The Old Town Tonight (man, these titles just keep getting weirder and weirder, don’t they?)

Kurt reclined in the leather passenger seat of Angeline’s 2001 silver Mazda Miata convertible, watching telephone poles whip by. On the radio, Our Lady Peace’s “Annie” blared, shaking the ground with its bass. (He only knew the song because Scott played the CD, “Happiness Is Not A Fish That You Can Catch” on a continual basis, this definitely wasn’t his taste in music.)

“You’re a little bit dry

A little uptight

You’re the messed up girl

That everybody tries to hide

You’ve had enough

They’re too unkind

But did anyone consider

What Annie might have in mind

Oh, no . . . ”

Angeline sang along, tapping the beat on the steering wheel, oblivious to the fact that it was freezing outside and her window was open. At least the hard top was up for winter. She turned to him and smiled, “So, Reiseleiter (AN-tour guide in German), where to first?”

“Take a left at the light.” Kurt said, shouting to be heard over the base. Angeline reached over and turned it down.

“Sorry, I sort of ‘ave a taste for alternative rock. It waz so hard to get in Brazil and France, but now that I’m ‘ere, I listen to it non stop. It drivez my neighbors crazy.” She smiled sheepishly, turning on her blinker and negotiating the turn with ease, “Where exactly are we going?”

“Well, you’ve been to the furniture store . . . I wasn’t exactly sure how to top that,” she laughed before he continued, “but I figured the mall was a safe bet. That’s about it for entertainment here in Bayville.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Well, actually, there’s a Ten-Plex and laser tag at the mall, so it’s not terrible. But yeah, overall, Bayville’s not exactly an excitement hot-spot on the map.”

“Oh well. It’s nice to be somewhere quiet for once. I’m so used to living in ze city - thousands of people milling around, and you’re just another one of zem.” The distant tone returned to her voice, and Kurt felt sorry for her. There was something in her past that was holding her back from living a normal life.

He wondered if she would ever tell him, maybe she couldn’t remember. His mind drifted back to their conversation in the gym, her haunting words, “ . . . I can’t even remember much about him. I can’t remember much about my past at all. But I can see his face sometimes at night, when I go to sleep, it’s always hidden in shadows, but I know it’s him.” He knew what it was like to live life with a blurry past, to have hundreds of unanswered and unanswerable questions come in the middle of the night, robbing sleep until the sweet dawn came to drown the questions in it’s sunlight till the next night crept into the room. He knew the coldness of an empty past. Somehow, it felt like it could only lead to a gray, lonely future existence.

He wanted to tell her it didn’t have to be like that, that she would be okay, that she could tell him about it and he would understand. Instead, he masked this in senseless small talk, “Actually, Bayville’s the largest city I’ve ever lived in.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, what about you? You’ve been everywhere, what’s your favorite city?”

“Eizer Paris, New York, Toronto, or Trinidad, I wouldn’t be able to choose which I liked best.”

“Cool,” he replied casually. At least the glazed look was gone from her eyes, replaced by a quiet smile curling up the corners of her mouth, “Take another left here.”

*~*~*~*

Kurt sat down, exhausted, at the food court table. After two hours of shopping followed by about three games of laser-tag (in which Angeline kept creaming everybody) he thought he deserved a rest. Angeline bounded up to the table, coming out of Banana Republic with three more bags. He honestly didn’t know where girls got their stamina in malls. Kitty and Jean were the same way.

He doubted he would ever understand anything about girls, maybe it was better that way. She sat down beside him and his stomach growled audibly. The food court restaurants were closed for the night. Kurt glanced down at his watch, the watch that did so much more than tell the time, and saw that it was 8:45. The whole mall would be closed in fifteen minutes. Angeline looked over at him and smiled broadly, “You are ‘ungry, non?”

“Yeah.” Kurt wasn’t just hungry, he was famished. He usually didn’t go this long between meals and the smell from the closed restaurants was making his mouth water.

“Well, do you know any good pizza places? We could pick one up and zen bring it back to my apartment.”

That was the best idea Kurt had heard all day. Back to her apartment. And he knew the best place to get a pizza in Bayville . . .

*~*~*~*

“Kurt . . . Angeline! Hey, over here!” called a familiar voice from the back booth of Alfredo’s, one of Bayville’s hot-spots for teens on a Friday night. It was Evan, sitting with the rest of the team and flagging Kurt down. He had forgotten, tonight was Kitty’s to cook, which generally meant takeout and a new smoke detector were required before the night was through. Though Evan was as friendly and open as he usually was, Kurt noticed the others were looking at him reproachfully.

He realized that he hadn’t gotten a chance to apologize to them yet and, since he hadn’t come home for dinner that night, they probably figured he was still mad at them. He and Angeline approached the table; she followed about half a step behind him and slid into the booth next to him, so close that their legs touched.

The waitress came to the table and sat three pizza’s in front of the group. Noticing Kurt and Angeline, she pulled a pencil from behind her ear and asked if they’d like something to drink. Kurt and Angeline both ordered Sprite and the waitress scurried off, looking harried and busy and just generally like any waitress on a Friday night when the restaurant was filled with noisy teenagers. Angeline grabbed a slice of pizza. So much for going back to her place . . .

Kurt also picked a piece of pizza and sank into a conversation with Scott and Evan about the Redwing - Jet game that was on the large screen over his head. He noticed Angeline had bravely launched into the heated debate that often broke out between Rogue and the other two girls over music. She was arguing alongside Rogue that their were other and much better things in the music industry than boy bands and Brittany Spears. They had often tried to drag Kurt into the conversation on other occasions but he usually just said something to the effect of “the day the Beatles broke up was the end of the music revolution” and they had eventually stopped bugging him. One of the things he liked about Angeline was the fact she seemed to just be another one of their group, like she belonged.

Kurt, growing bored with the hockey conversation, began to count the times Kitty said like each time she talked. It was a favorite pastime of his though he would never admit to it - she would have his head. Kitty was up to 37 times when Angeline left the table to go to the washroom.

Kurt looked at the group, who had suddenly grown very silent, “Look, guys, about what happened at lunch . . . I don’t know what came over me. I’m really sorry.”

“So, you’re not mad at us anymore?” asked Jean, still looking at him cautiously.

“No, I’m sorry. You guy’s are the best.” (AN-Awwwww Kodak moment *sniff* lol sorry.)

All of a sudden, the communicator in his back pocket began to vibrate. Everyone took theirs out and turned them on, glancing back at the washroom in case Angeline came out.

“Hey professor,” said Scott, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Hello Scott. I need you to assemble the full team and go immediately to warehouse 21 by the docks. It’s imperative you get there as soon as possible - don’t bother changing. I’ll give you more information in the car. Please hurry.”

Kurt was amazed, yet again, that even in a potential crisis Professor Xavier could remain amazingly calm.

“Alright, we’ll be right there.” replied Scott already getting up from the table. The waitress returned with the two Sprites and looked at them quizzically. Scott handed her two twenty dollar bills and told her to keep the change which, in Kurt’s calculation, was about a thirteen dollar tip. Scott grabbed the pizza boxes off the table and asked her to tell the girl that was with them that they had to go because there was an emergency. The waitress agreed and as the rest of the team hurried out the door, Kurt scribbled his name and the institute’s phone number on a napkin and asked the waitress to give it to the girl as well.

*~*~*~*

“This warehouse holds classified information on mutants from a particular institution that was started by the French government in Brazil about seventeen years ago,” said the prof. over the car’s radio. Somehow, Kurt didn’t like the sound of the familiarity of this, “The mutants from this institution were trained to be mutant hunters, similar to Logan, though, like Logan, many of them ran away from this institute, costing the senseless loss many mutant lives. These mutants were taught how to block themselves from being detected and any of them that are still alive live amongst the rest of us in peace, undetected by either Eric (AN- Magneto) or myself. However, those files are very valuable and must be protected because all the mutants have the potential to be incredibly dangerous if they were manipulated by the wrong people. Most are not any older than yourselves.”

*~*~*~*

The warehouse loomed, its grey metallic walls shimmering in the moonlight. It had to be at least thirty feet high, and from where he stood, Kurt couldn’t see any windows. A security guard lay sprawled across the front walk that was overgrown with weeds poking through the cracked cement. Checking his pulse and determining that he was simply unconscious, Jean mentally lifted him about fifty feet away onto the dock; it would buy them some time if he woke up.

They were all in their normal clothes, Scott didn’t have his visor on and even Kurt himself hadn’t turned off his holographic watch. Scott pushed the heavy door fully open, though it already stood ajar, and they entered the warehouse. Closing the door quietly as not draw attention, they walked blindly through the darkness. It was pitch black and Kurt honestly couldn’t see his hands in front of his face.

They had walked maybe thirty steps when a light behind him caught his attention. In fact, three bright lights were pointed in his and the teams direction. He could see everyone of the x-men around him clearly, but not the holders of the lights, who stood between them and the door.

A cruel, almost bored voice cut the darkness, “Well, if it isn’t the x-freaks . . .” Kurt recognized it immediately as Pietro, “Do you guys have nothing better to do than follow us?” Todd and Lance sniggered as Pietro continued, “Well, at least I know that’s true for you, Daniels. Not like you’d actually have to go to basketball practice or anything just to be a bench warmer.”

Beside him Kurt heard Evan grind his teeth. Without warning, he shot a spike right at Pietro’s head.

A stream of water came from somewhere near the ceiling and knocked the spike off course, forcing it into the ground where it shattered, scattering tiny projectiles across the concrete floor with a crash. The sound of electricity crackling rang through the air and seconds later the brotherhoods flashlights exploded in a shower of glass and light. All around him, confused voices echoed in the darkness.

“What was that?”

“Damn, I almost had him too . . .”

“Which of those goodie-two-shoes learned how to do that?”

“Who wants to bet Mystique got those lights on sale?”

Between the two groups a wall of blue fire, like that of a Bunsen burner, sprung up. The azure flames spewed from the same place that the water had originated and Kurt watched dumbfounded as words began to take place within the fire. He felt like he wanted to retch, then pass out. Not electricity, not water, not blue flames . . . she did that, those were hers . . . was this just another apparition of his tortured imagination . . .would these dreams never end?

And the words, her words . . . God, why now? The lighter blue flames licked the darker background, yet the words clearly formed, “Divided we will fall. United we are whole.”

The blue flames and warehouse were fading away into his mind - into the blackness, the sweet darkness. His friends voices sounded distant. Would the room ever stop spinning? He vaguely registered Evan shooting a spike at place of the flames beginning . . . then the fire spreading . . . Scott telling him they had to go, could he port them out of there? . . . he could port when the blackness stopped taking over his thoughts dammit! . . . a scream . . .

Then darkness - enveloping and total. Kurt passed out on the warehouse floor.

Lance watched in horror as the burning beam fell in front of the door, his only exit. Pietro and Todd had already gotten out, they were faster because of their powers. He watched as Summers dragged Kurt through the building wall (with the help of Kitty), and screamed for help. They didn’t hear him. The smoke choked him, settling unpleasantly in his lungs, he had to get out of here. But he was so tired . . . so tired.

To be continued . . .

Well, I finally finished it. As you can see it was sort of important to plot development, which is why it took so long. And also the fact I had severe writer’s block! Anyway, I hope you liked it. And don’t forget to review this story again!!!!!!

Lots o’ love, Kelly Chp 6