Family Breakfast

May 15, 2018:

Kitty invites Peter to the Mansion, Peter makes pancakes and they discuss Trask's collars and what they fight for.

Xavier's Mansion - The Kitchen


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Rocket, Groot, the X-Men

Mood Music: [ "Slow Ride" - Foghat]

Fade In…

The famed X-Mansion. The pinicle of technology, learning, mutant sciences. The mornings are usually somewhat busy, people rushing to class and away. The kitchen of the place is usually full of visitors finding what snacks they can. So many but even then one new face would entirely be noticed. Reported. Talked about. There would be whisperings and comments and /gossip/ all over the place.

…which is possibily why its a good thing that one Peter Quill slept in a bit so he missed all that ruckus. I mean really.

So its fairly quiet at this point in the day, luckily between everything that the smell of something cooking wafts up from the kitchen. The sizzle of something on the grille, sweet sounds of some kind of pan-like cake cooking up…

…and mixed in with it. The intermidient sound of someone singing. At decent volume. To a song only he can hear.

Since he's wearing his Walkman.

Shirtless, shoeless, sliding around the floor in his socks. Peter Quill sings along to The Animals 'The House of The Rising Sun' stopping every so often to air-rift some of the longer sets as he works.

At least he /is/ wearing his jeans. But that might just be because he needed something to clip the Walkman too.

Its hard to tell with him.


It's entirely possible that Kitty was going to regret inviting Peter to the Mansion to stay with her for a little while. However, the past few weeks, she's been rather hard to pin down. She's been elusive, defensive and has a hair trigger temper. And, then, spinning on that dime, she has been keeping a very very close eye on the Guardians. She wants to know where Rocket, Groot and Peter go and how long they will be gone. She's offered to babysit Groot more often than is her rotation.

Generally, something has been up with Kitty and she hasn't really been forthcoming on the details. However, that same thought had her, perhaps in a moment of insanity, invite Peter back to the mansion to stay in her room that she inhabits when she's not with the Guardians. It's a step into her life here, into what it's like to be a mutant.

Waking up, she realizes Peter isn't in the room. There is a bit of panic. Oh God, what will Peter Quill do to the Mansion unattended? Quickly, she is grabbing her phone and her robe and makes her way across the expansive mansion, seeking him out. The singing immediately draws her. That's definitely Peter. Then, the smell of cooking. She relaxes a moment and then - barefoot - quietly makes her way down the stairs and into the large communal kitchen.

She realizes this is an opportune time to sneak up on him and she can't help but tease him. Quietly, using her phasing powers to help, she sneaks up behind him and quickly grabs at his headphones. "Boo!" she whispers right in his ear.



The reaction is to be expected. Gratifyingly impressive even as Peter spins to face her, the scoop he had in his hand goes spinning out of it. Pinwheeling though the kitchen to splatter batter across a counter as he blinks towards her for a moment.

Strains of 'Slow Ride' come from the headphones in her hands as he smirks at her for a second.

"Beautiful you need to stop with the ninja stuff!" He says with a smirk. "I could totally have hurt you. Or something!" A pause again. "…aw man, and now you've ruined the suprise!"

A longer pause.

"And good morning?"


On pure reflex, Kitty ducks. That is easily why the batter splatters against the counter and not her. There is a raised eyebrow and a pointed look at the batter and then back toward Peter.

Unable to help herself, though, she grins. She can hear the faint strains of Slow Ride form his earphones. She looks to the pan, the pancake batter now spread out on the counter and then back at Peter. She can make a very educated guess as to what it is he was doing down here.

"First of all, I actually kind of am a ninja, so it's hard for me to stop it. Second, I definitely didn't ninja to surprise you. The headphones tend to mask any approaching enemies. Third, I would like to see you try to hurt me when I've got the drop on you."

Grinning, she leans forward to give him just a quick peck on the cheek and then lets the headphones rest against his neck. Stepping just an inch to the side, she lets him not allow his surprise to burn. "It's more like noon, but I'll take it. Are you making me breakfast? I didn't realize you could cook."


"First of all you're a /hot/ ninja which is better than being a normal ninja. So therefor I forgive you, even though I could /totally/ do something if you got the drop on me. I mean I'm a highly trained combatant. I saved the galaxy and all. So totally could have done something."

A pause.


There is a smirk, lopsided and amused at the peck on the cheek. "But yeah. I'm making you breakfast." A beatpause. "Surprise?" A longer pause. "I can totally cook! I mean really, Yondu and his boys threatened to /eat/ me on a weekly basis. You don't really think the stuff they actually ate was much better do you? I learned a few things just out of self defense. And because pancakes are awesome. They make ya feel better."


"If I were a normal ninja there would be words, hm?" Kitty give Peter a smirk but shifts away so he can have his cooking space. While she would generally make him clean up any mess he made, she moves to wet a paper towel and start to wipe up the spattered pancake batter he tossed about when she startled him.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you could have," she tells him in both a supportive and dismissive tone. She definitely thinks she can take Peter Quill in a fight. "You did save a galaxy."

There's a bit of a tilted head. "Just because you were threatened to be the menu doesn't generally mean you know how to cook a better one. Not that I'd ever disagree about pancakes, they're delicious." However, then she looks at the pan rather than Peter. Her last question is almost serious. "You think I need to feel better?"


"Darlin," Peter just smirks slightly as he turns back to work. The spatula is spun in his hand and the soft tones of music that he occasionally hums to still comes though the headphones that rest on his neck. "I've seen things with no backbones that were less twisted up than you've been the past few weeks."

A flash of a grin towards her, a gesture of his spatula. Its got a little happy owl face on it. The spatula does. "You invited me /here/. To your house. I mean…who in their right mind does that? I'm a damn space pirate." He says with a wide and wicked grin that's aimed towards her.

He shrugs slightly though as he turns back to flip one of the flapjacks trying to get it cooked just right. "…I mean you have to be cra—-wait…did you just make a crack about my cooking skills?!"


There's a bit of a frown as Kitty keeps looking at that stove and leans against the counter. Balling up the wet paper towels she just used to clean the counter, she makes an arc toward the garbage can. It misses. With a wet slap, it hits against the wall and then slowly slides down it, leaning against the garbage morosely. Angrily, Kitty glares at the towels but does not move to pick it up just yet.

"Are saying I have no backbone?" It's a defensive ploy. Then, she glances around the kitchen. It's very familiar to her, a place she's considered home, would set down her life to protect. A glance is given to Peter and she can't help but blush a little, look down. "What's wrong with inviting you here? Do you not want to be here?"

Again, she can't help but laugh a bit. "I was. Just a little. I've seen the Milano, Peter, you don't seem like someone who can cook anything other than instant ramen noodles."


"There is nothing wrong with ramen noodles. Nothing!" Peter is quick to protest. "I mean they are so versatile! And you have no idea how hard they are to get sometimes. I mean you've never been to Knowhere. You have no idea what they make ramen out of there."

Peter just shakes his head. He pauses though, quirks one eye towards her as she deflects. As she angrily glowers at the towels like all this is somehow their fault.

"And now you're just bein' difficult." He says with a shake of his head. "You know what I mean." He adds with a twitch of that smirk of his. That look of his that is part amused part serious.

Yes. He's irrisponsible. Yes he's entirely a durp. Yes he's infuriating and annoying and any one of a dozen other things.

And a criminal. He's totally that too. Criminal and mercenary.

But he is entirley loyal to the people that /have/ won his trust and his friendship.

…even Rocket.

Compared to the trashpanda this is low tier defensive ploys.

"So. Do you want your panckes or no?"


"Nowhere? You mean like, the middle of nowhere? Oh, I've been there I grew up there. It's where I learned to ice skate." Obviously, Kitty is not really up on the space lingo or places. Unable to help herself, she asks, "Okay, gotta ask. What do they make the ramen out of there?"

Quill's reaction is met with something of a surprised look. There's a few blinks and then, she crosses her arms. It's strange that Kitty is being more like Quill in this conversation and he is being more like her when dealing with the emotional ramification of the past few weeks and this conversation in particular. "Maybe," she says, also defensively. Kitty is not quite as good at the defensive ploys as the Guardians. She's far more heart on the sleeve. Even now, it is not hard to break her down.

"Yes," she says softly as for wanting her pancakes.

There's a long pause as she moves to the expensive, but well worn kitchen table. It's not where everyone generally eats, but it's perfect for midnight snacks…or noon treats as these lend themselves toward.

Softly, she sighs. "Do you know anything about mutants? How we're treated here?"


"What no? Knowhere is a pirate port, way out on the ass end of the galaxy. Someone hollowed out the skull of a space god and built a whole city inside it. Apparently mining old space god bits is profitable cause its not bad as far as pirate ports go. I mean. Most people will kill you as soon as look at you still." He says with a flash of a grin. "But…its not bad. And it can be kinda amazing."

The last question comes as he's shuffling the pancakes to plate, sliding a big stack of them to the middle of the kitchen table.

"Not great? I mean about how Ravangers are treated most civilized places of the galaxy. Of course Ravangers earned that rep, so not the same."

The clans had embraced that rep. Made it its own culture. He's guessing that won't work for /this/ kind of situation.

"…where the heck do you keep the syrup around here. Not that fake stuff either, the good stuff. You have /no/ idea how long its been since I've had good maple syrup."


"People live in the hollowed out brain of a god?" Kitty blinks a few times, trying to come to terms with both that image and thought. "And they mine it? That's super gross." It's gross even for pirates. "How is it amazing??"

As the pancakes are slid to the middle of the table, Kitty forks a few onto a plate. "There's syrup in the fridge. I think it's from Maine. Is that real enough?" She grins. "Bring it over, if you would." As for Ravagers, she shakes her head. "How exactly are Ravagers treated? I'm not really all up on the galaxy treatments. Have they been systematically hunted and murdered for the way they were born? Feared for reasons they can't help? Had people try regulate their very lives because even if they are children they could be dangerous?"

Pause. "If so, then, yes."


"Its the skull of a god, not the brain. I mean living in the brain of anything would be weird!" Peter replies with a shake of his head. "And I don't know! They turn it into strange space tech! But what I'm saying is that its something to see. Like…Vegas. Its like space Vegas. Does that make it better?"

He grumbles, though his heart isn't in it as he turns to rummage around the fridge. "…and yeah. Maine will do I guess." He says over his shoulder as he grabs it out of the fridge and brings it over.

The pancakes themselves? They are…actually decent. They aren't strange space pancakes. Basic, but basic at least done well enough to be tasty.

He sets the glass down as he listens to her questions. A slight frown passes his features before he shakes his head. "Well no…not really any of that. I mean at least part of it is that there are a /lot/ of Clans and they would just kill the people that would try that."

A pause.

"Right thats not helping. So…yeah no. Not really alike at all."

A pause.

"I didn't know it was that bad, Kitten."


"Space Vegas in a God Skull?" Kitty frowns. "I'm…not sure it does."

Kitty starts cutting into the pancakes, pouring a generous amount of syrup over them and adding butter. There's a few bites taken before she frowns again. "They're trying to regulate us. I learned about it a few weeks ago. Some sort of collar that can negate the mutant gene. They're trying to pass laws that register us. That will make us like government property." There's a distinct and painful bitterness in her tone even as she speaks around the pancakes.

There's a shake of her head again. "There are a lot of different schools of thought here, too. The militant, the peaceful, the investigative. But everything we do…everything I do…it could come back on the people I care about."

With a rueful grin, she shrugs her shoulders. "It's not critical mass yet, but I know the signs. My family's talked about them before. I can't help but feel like this is all just history repeating itself."

Another bite of pancakes. Unable to help herself, she grins at Peter. "I gotta say, Peter. These are pretty good."


"Urgh, you just have to see it. I'll just go take you. Easy as that." Peter replies stubbornly before talk turns to more weighty matters. Peter though listens, he nods. Watching her eat as he reaches out to snag one of the pancakes. "Of course its good. Everything I do is awesome. I keep telling you this and you just don't believe me. One day you'll come round. I know you will."

He falls quiet though as he thinks. He's never been great at this part. So he rips a piece of his pancake. Eating with his fingers and dipping it in a puddle of syrup he has on his plate.

"Remember when Rocket and Groot tried to make these with poprocks?"

He says with a touch of a smirk, a fond memory rolling around his his skull before he shakes it loose to look back at the woman across the table from him.

"I don't know much about all this mess, Kitten. I'm not even gonna pretend I do, for once. Just this once. Savor it. Marinade in it. Its not gonna come around again. All I really know is that if someone comes for your family, you fight them every inch of the way. Yeah, its a risk. Yeah its usually messy but if they are coming after ya what other choice do you got. I mean…you stick by family. No matter how much of an asshole they are."

He's thinking of Rocket right now.

"Else I would have spaced that damn trashpanda like six planets back." A pause. "Don't you dare tell him that."


Taking another bite of her pancakes, Kitty smirks at his assurances that he's awesome at everything. "Uh huh. I'm not sure that's ever going to happen. Honestly, like I said, I just never pictured you as the cooking type. You seem more like the guy who orders pizza every day and then eats the leftovers for as long as you can. But now I realize I shouldn't be surprised."

The memory of the pop rock pancakes turns her more sardonic expression it something more fond - almost in exact counterpoint to his own expressions. "It took me almost half an hour to get all that pancake batter out of my hair, you jerk."

Then, as he speaks of family, of fighting, the smile falls into something far more determined. It's a look he generally sees on her face, but perhaps never mixed with quite this much seriousness. "I will. Believe me. I'm not a stranger to fighting." In fact, she's been doing it much of her adult life in one form or another.

Her hand reaches out to try and take his - the one not occupied with a fork. "I need you to know that think of you guys as family. And this place," she looks up at the ceiling, hopefully showing that she means this entire mansion and those within it. "This place is mine, too. If and when the time comes, I'm going to have to be here to defend what we've built. Doesn't mean I won't come back, though."

A pause, then a somewhat less serious note, "Oh, and I'm holding onto that Rocket tidbit for blackmail."


"Pizza is a gift from the heavens and I won't have you taking its precious name in vain." Peter's response is at once serious and entirely ridiculous. I mean he /looks/ serious, the way he points at her and the cast of his features. Kitty might, /might/ know him well enough by now to realize when he's just being…Peter Quill. Ill-socialized jackass.

It's something about the way the joke hides behind his eyes as he brings a touch of levity into what should be a completely serious discussion.

Her had finds his and with a touch of an awkward pause the spaceman wraps his fingers around hers. He just nods to the fierce words from the mutant, the seriousness of the situation not lost on him. After all he fights for his little family just as much.

He pauses though as he looks towards her, not letting go of her hand as a though crosses his mind. It coalesces into An Actual Serious Thought for a moment before he taps a finger of his free hand against the table.

"Ya know, just a thought here. But /maybe/ if you agreed that their captain was awesome. And a good cook. And a general handsome dude. I /might/ know a group of intergalactic fix-it people who /might/ be willing to help. And /maybe/ with extensive negotiations offer a 'friends and family' discount on the price."

A pause.

"Especially if you never tell Rocket."


While most times Kitty would roll her eyes at Peter at a statement like that…this time, the seriousness on her face cracks just slightly. She's not able to maintain the exacting balance that is her seriously determined stare in the face of the preciousness of pizza.

The moments pass in silence as Peter takes her hand, as they pause from their noon breakfast and as she expresses her feelings to him in regards to both the Guardians and this school. His response, though, is met with a few blinks. It's not exactly surprise that she feels at his offer. It's, instead, a flutter, something almost like tears that glass her eyes. Her hand squeezes his very tightly.

Before there is any response, however, she stands and phases right through the table. In seconds, she leans down to plant a big kiss right on his lips, her other hand reaching up to rest gently on his cheek.

There may be a more verbal and thought out answer in a minute, but this is her gut reaction, her thesis statement of thanks.


Well. That was unexpected.

Not /unwelcome/ but unexpected.

The man is suprised, just a little bit shocked, but not enough that he spares more than a moments hesitation before leaning fully into that kiss. His hand coming up to touch hers as he just lets himself indulge fully in this moment of passion from this damn crazy mutant.

Its /always/ the crazy ones. And the quiet ones. Sometimes both.

As he comes up for air, the reluctance to do so obvious from the hesitation he has to pull his lips away from hers. He does it slowly, just enough to catch his breath and catch her eyes.

"I got to make you pancakes more often."


Of course, Kitty would be the first to say that it is Peter that is the crazy one. He's the one with the spaceship, the baby tree and the explosion obsessed raccoon, after all. She's just a simple Midwesterner that can walk through solid objects and occasionally cuts things and people with katanas.

When Peter pulls back just slightly, Kitty rests her forehead against his, not moving too far away from him. She's still partially phased into the table and at that pause, she takes a bit of a step to the side and then moves to seat herself in his lap without asking. This is all without letting go of his face or hand.

"It was more than the pancakes and you know it." With a soft smile, she adds, "Though, I will say, they helped and I would never say no to more surprises like this one." And less like the usual Guardian surprises which tend to include things like poprock pancakes. Or 'is what we found under the couch harmless or something Rocket modified into a grenade?'

Her hand runs through Peter's hair gently. "Thank you. Both for the breakfast and the offer to help. They're both great."


Peter is always appreciative of Kitty's ability to not let things get in the way of herself. Little things. Like…tables. And furniture. I mean really a streight line is so much easier to process than a roundabout way.

"The pancakes totally helped." He says with all the confidence and swagger of…well…himself as he curls one hand around her waist to secure her in her new position.

It rests against her hip as he pulls her close with a slight smirk. "Well just remember we gave you a chance to say no the next time Rocket asks why we can't blow something up." A pause. "Cause he will. He so totally will."

There isn't all that much heat in those words, little of the groucing or complaining that most times can be heard in his voice.

He seems more content, maybe not more confident because that is next to impossible but defiantly more content. He likes this even if he has no real way to articulate that feeling. Feeling never were something he was any good at really. At least not acknowledging his own.

So he sits there for a moment, silently content.

At least until a stray thought makes it past the filter of his and escapes out his mouth.

"If one of your students walks in here you're totally phasing me though the floor aren't you."


Settling herself into her new seat, Kitty wraps an arm around Peter's neck and then steals some of his pancakes. They are really good, after all! She can't let them go completely to waste.

"That thanks is not a carte blanche to blow up whatever Rocket wants to blow up. The Mansion is off limits. As are Mansion owned things." She feels as if it is necessary to bring in that caveat now. "It's already been pretty damaged by the demon bear that almost killed me. I'd like to make sure that the people I invited to help aren't the cause of its next rebuild."

Happily leaning against Peter, she steals another bite of his pancakes. Hers are way over on the other side of the table! How is she supposed to get to them?

Without hesitation, she nods in agreement to his hunch about what would happen should a student walk in on them. "Oh, definitely. I'll phase the full chair through. Don't worry. I thiiiink what's below us is the pool. You should be fine."


"Look I have no control over Rocket and his love of explosions. Thats why we have a waiver in our contract." Quill replies glibly. Lies really. Because she knows they don't have contracts. The smirk on his face at least confirms that.

His arms around her tighten just slightly when she mentions almost dying. So subtle, so simple, he likely doesn't even know he's doing it. But that thought is just…wrong. His mind slides past the possibility like a snake. He doesn't even want to contemplate that. So, in typical Quill fashion, he doesn't.

Instead he concentrates on something entirely different.

"You have a /pool/!" He exclaims. "Like…indoor heated pool?" A long pause. "Seriously? And you didn't tell me?" He looks affronted. Even though its mostly a sham.

"We are totally going swimming. /After/ pancakes."


"Contract." Kitty certainly knows the Guardians are not going to have contracts. That goes against their devil may care attitudes and their hatred of bureaucracy. "Uh huh."

While the grip around her tightening is subtle, she feels it. While she's unsure if he even meant that, as his next statement has to deal with pools and the fact that she has kept said pools from him, she smiles. Leaning forward, she gives a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. "You never asked about pools!"

There is a mock thoughtful look on her face as she nods. "Yes. Of course. We should finish our pancakes." And then, reaching behind her, she take the rest of Peter's pancakes and stuffs them into her mouth. It may take her a little while to chew, but she beams at him as she does so. It really does seem as if hanging out with the Guardians has rubbed off on her the wrong way.


Slowly the Guardian frowns as she stuffs his pancakes in her mouth. He leans forwards to peer at her slowly, then slowly begins to smirk.

"Chimponk!" He finally accuses her as he starts to stand, to shift, and to pick her up.

Just sweep her up right into his arms.

"Fine then. You chew. I'll walk. Which way. And since your mouth is full, /I/ get to make up why I'm here to anyone we meet!"

…check and mate.

"Now! Which way!"

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