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Summary: Kitty Pryde looks Pete Wisdom up for help with a problem. Really. That's all. Just help.
Date: March 6, 2009
Log Title Just For Your Resources
Rating: PG (Language)
Ace Bar - Alphabet City - NYC
Ace Bar, East 5th Street between Avenues A and B. It's a place where writers and geeks and musicians go to drink and play pool and darts. It's a place with a good jukebox. It's a place with a wall full of vintage lunchboxes; it's a place where a movie with both Janeane Garofalo *and* Elvis Costello was partially set.
It's a place that one Kitty Pryde considers neutral territory. It's a *bar*, but it's a bar she wouldn't mind admitting to liking, even at her prissiest.
She's not at her prissiest.
There's a crowd of smokers outside the doors, joking with the bouncer in the chilly March night air; there're a couple of high tables on the street-side of the place, near the booth taking up the entire front window. Pryde's sitting at one of those high tables, keeping an eye on the door and ostensibly working on grading papers on her laptop. She *has* got a beer.
Putting out his cigarette before walking into the bar, Pete steps in and looks around. He spots Kitty and smiles as he walks up behind her, smelling of stale cigerettes and cheap whiskey. His suit is perfectly wrinkled as always like he keeps them balled up in a corner just so they'll never be neat. "Well, well, well, look who decided to give me a call." He signals the bartender. "I'll have a whiskey." He says as he gives Kitty a smug sort of grin.
Looking up and back over her shoulder with *quite* the wry expression, Kitty reaches up and closes her notebook computer with a little click. "Oh, I just called to use you for your resources." It *could* be true. She gestures toward the tall chair nearest hers at the tall table - it's roughly all at the height of the bar and barstools, just a few feet over from them.
The bartender's a busty girl with bottle blond hair and a harried look; she's probably waiting for her smoke break. She -does- have Pete's whiskey on the bar in record time: double, on the rocks. He didn't specify, and this -is- the States. No unsullied-by-ice alcohol. She tells him the price and then goes off to pour someone else's drink, just as desperate, down the bar.
"I've been texting with Alistaire, I have a problem that involves crosstime and I'm thinking I might need to get in touch with Brian," Kitty starts, rubbing the back of one hand with the other. She looks a little uncertain… and she *is* wearing the battered bomber jacket she had in London, over a t-shirt and jeans. "He's in Otherworld with Meggan, right?"
Wisdom grabs the glass of whiskey and puts down enough money to cover the drink and leave a decent tip as he listens to Kitty and takes a swig, not a sip, from the glass before sitting down. "So that's why you called me all the way out here, to talk about Brian, I think there's other reasons but sure, last I heard that's where he was." He says looking around the bar taking another swig from the glass. Nothing like a glass of whiskey no matter how shitty the brand is. "So Kitty, is that the only reason you called me down here, for my connections?"
"…it is if you're going to be a *jerk*," retorts Kitty indignantly, twisting in her tall chair so she's facing Pete. Her body language goes from uncertain to a little closed off. Just a little. She adds a bit more quietly, "We can't both always be right. But you don't have to-"
Neatly, the girl cuts herself off by shaking her head and picking up her glass of beer. It's a dark amber; apparently she's kept *some* habits she picked up from Pete. No watery American beer for her. She takes a sip and then sets it down, brow furrowed. "Look, Pete, this is important. I *am* in touch with Alistaire, but you can keep him to task, make sure him contacting Brian doesn't wind up tangenting into weirdland any more than it has to."
"I haven't talked to you for months, you call me out here and it's because you want Brian and Alistaire for something. So what's this about Kitty?" Pete says internally cursing New York's no cigarette in bars law. He stands up and takes his jacket off and lets it sit on the back of the chair, so his back is pressed against it, letting it get wrinkled even further.
Uh-oh, she's sticking out her chin, she's looking stubborn. On the plus side, it's the kind of stubborn she used to display before she flaked out on Pete, years ago. Downside, it's aimed *at* him. She crosses her arms. "*Wisdom*," she starts irritably, then trails off. Okay, childish; she's just realized she's glaring at the table next to him instead of meeting his eyes.
With a chuff of an exhalation, Kitty straightens up in her chair and looks at Pete's face. "There's this guy. At, you know, the place I work. And he's from another dimension. And he was engaged to marry me there. Well, not me, but other-me. It's not like this isn't something I haven't had to deal with before, but he's made of angst and drama about it because she died and he's all sticking around here not wanting his problems solved, so I'm trying to -get- his problems solved so he stops *looking* at me like that."
She clears her throat. "And I'm not taking this problem to Peter." In other words, Pete is a meat shield. More or less. So to speak. "If… you and I could *work* together on something…" They worked together so well. They finished each other's sentences. That was gone long before their relationship ended, and she wants it *back*.
"So you want me to go there and slap the wanker across the face and tell him to stop being a prick? That might solve his problem. Or get your talking dragon to torment him a bit." Wisdom says gulping down the last of his whiskey. He just looks at Kitty for a bit, the girl he'll forever hold a torch for and she probably knows it. He could make a 'date' comment but he knows that probably wouldn't result well. "So what's this that you want to work on then? I just thought you wanted my resources not to work together."
"Lockheed doesn't *talk*, Pete." Rolling her eyes, Kitty brings her knees up, hooks the heels of her feet on the top rung of the tall chair, and crosses her arms to loosely prop them up on her knees. "And seriously. If you're just going to be a jerk, then forget it. If you're *not* gonna be a jerk, you'll get punished for it anyway, because the problem I could really use your help with is stupid to the millionth degree. I mean, I already told you, it involves parallel dimensions and mopey paraform-bereft royalty, so you're already gonna hate it." She coughs, her gaze sliding away shiftily. "And well, I'm sacrificing my dignity enough asking you in the first place."
Wisdom sighs and doesn't want to get into /again/, the bloody dragon does talk. He puts his hand up signaling for another whiskey. "I was serious about the dragon tormenting him, but anyway, your right, I am going to hate it." He leans in and smiles at her as she says the last part. "You sacrificed that long ago Kitty, but if it needs doing, it needs doing, I'll help you out." He says knowing that a part of it is that he can't say know to her. He shakes his head. "Damnit, where's my bloody whiskey."
Here, Kitty's tone takes on a distinctly patient cant to it. "…you /finished/ it, Pete." Then she stretches her legs out, hops off her chair, and reaches over to pat Wisdom's hand. Then she's hesitant, sliding her notebook computer closer to the edge of the table. She sounds uncertain. "And you -are- allowed to ask -me- for help. I mean, provided you wanted it. For anything."
"Okay so, what exactly you need help with besides getting this guy to stop making fancy eyes at you? Another dimension, do we have to send him back?" Wisdom asks trying to figure things out now. Maybe he's trying to brush over the last thing she said to him. "And this other dimension guy, he's not another metal ex whose going to beat the hell outta me again is he?"
At least Pryde's got the grace to blush at that last, but she's standing now, and she finishes the rest of her beer in one long go. "No he's *not*. I've never dated him. He was engaged to a different me in his home dimension, and I want to continue discouraging him that he'll ever get anywhere with me. I doubt he'll go back home when his problems are fixed, because, right, he's all 'all of my friends are dead and they bloody haunt me!' except without the being a blonde in a trenchcoat. He's, um- there're a fair amount of details here that are totally not appropriate for me to bring up in a publically audible conversation because… like I said… royalty. The problem is that there's a civil war there and on one side is Pietro and on the other is, you know, Wanda." She pauses, eyeing Pete to see if he's got the significance of those names. He /should/, he's a damn spy. "And apparently she's really really really powerful there. And if she's not stopped it'll be like Jamie. And then Saturnyne'll step in to blow the place to hell. But because I know about it ahead of time, maybe something can be done about it before that happens. It's not just to get this guy off my back, Pete."
"Oh like I've never heard the all my bloody friend are dead bit before." Pete says rolling his eyes, life sucks, bad shit happens, you deal with it. "Oh great, Magnetos brats from antoher dimension, bloody terrific. And seriously, if you want, I'll just snog with you for a bit in front of him, to get him off your back, it won't mean anything, promise." Oh he knows he's asking to be smacked. "Alright, so we gotta stop a war on another dimension? You owe me big time Kitty."
Remarkably, the smack (though /present/) is very *light*. And it's accompanied by a very amused look- one that's followed by a shining-eyed gratitude. "I *know* I do. I'll get you all the details I can possibly get my hands on, and I *need* you to get on Alistaire's back to get in touch with Brian, because Brian's got the biggest sway over Saturnyne that doesn't involve in me winding up in indentured servitude in Otherworld. Best of all worlds is that he gets hold of *Roma*, and then she can get the Captain Britain Corps to handle it. Failing that, though, I've got -some- ideas, but we come up with the best plans when we've got all the info laid out in front of us, don't we?" Kitty looks… like she's enjoying business. Like she's looking forward to this. Like her old self.
"Alright alright alright, I'll contact Alistaire first thing tomorrow morning." Wisdom says figuring with the time difference tomorrow is the best. "And I'm staying in the Bronx right now, stop by to talk more on this." And he doesn't mean it this time in any sort of 'I want to get in your pants but know I probably won't' ways. Though he wouldn't shoot down the oportunity to get in them again. "I'm glad you're having fun with this Kitty." He says as the waitress finally brings over his second whiskey that he downs in one gulp.
"I'm just glad it's something I *know* that doesn't have anything to do with the X-Men," confesses Kitty, zipping up her bomber jacket and putting her laptop in her backpack. She's not giving herself enough credit, but it's not really a surprise: she's in the place where she was a child. Where people take her less seriously. That's changing in fits and starts, but it's got a lot to work against. Hauling the backpack up on her shoulders, she leans over to kiss Pete on the cheek. Really very fast, no more than a brush of her lips against his skin, and then she's heading for the door out. "I'll stop by as soon as I've got more info!" she calls.
"I am too." Wisdom says in regards to the X-Men as he's not a big fan of the school, well just that it seems like they're all shoved into one spot. He stands up as well and doesn't react to the kiss, he's trying to stay neutral about it. "I'm probably going to have a smoke and then head on back to my place, I think the roaches are waiting for me, but then the roaches torment me less than that damn talking Dragon stealing my bloody cigarettes…." He shakes his head. "G'night Kitty, I'll let you know wat Alistaire says."
One quick grin and she's out the door. At least Kitty had the decency to push it open before going through it.