2013.04.22 - Safe For Now

It's past 11 on a moonless Monday night, and Fern is making her way home from the subway station nearest the apartment on Macombs Place. It's been a tiring night, and she moves just a little more slowly than normal with fatigue and things weighing on her mind. Her black boots clomp dully on the stairs as she ascends to apartment 4D. Keys out, locks two, three and five are unlocked, and the young waitress slips inside, not bothering to reach for the light switch as she closes the door behind her and leans against it.

"Leibchen," comes a voice from somewhere in the unlit room. "Do not scream.. it is just me." It's a passingly familiar German accented voice, and it's coming from.. a side corner on the ceiling. A moment passes, then two rapidfire *bamfs* sound in the quiet dark, and Kurt is on his feet, on the ground near her. He doesn't look quite like himself, but rather, a rather attractive looking African American with close-cropped hair, a comfortable looking casual outfit, though he's got a 'stethoscope' hanging from his pocket. The image inducer's randomized a doctor!

"I need to apologize for not being around."

The first word uttered insures against a scream, but there's no hand sweeping for the switch on the wall beside the door. Instead, Fern waits a moment, rewarded with the telltale sound of teleporting and the familiar whiff of Hell. The streetlight in front of her windows lets enough light into the room for her to see the unfamiliar face with the familiar voice. "You don't have to apologize, Kurt." Her words come softly, with a touch of disappointment but not accusation. The assumption is that he's been avoiding her because of Warren.

It's what he figured; any who know him would recognize the 'name' given with no question. Kurt shakes his head, a touch of a smile tinging his face before he holds out a hand to teleport the two of them to the couch. (His injured one remains at his side.)

"Ja.. I do. I had meant to come two weeks ago now, but I have found myself.. occupied with such things that I cannot have you part of." Kurt offers an encouraging smile, and he chuckles softly, "Not even Warren knows." Lifting a hand to his lips, there's that .. something that is the blue elf that can be seen under the false image, a gleam to his eyes, a lift of that quiet, German-accented voice, "Secret mutant stuff."

Fern pauses first to engage two of the locks, then takes the hand offered, feeling the one she expects as her own settles into Kurt's three digit grip. She makes the short trip with her eyes closed, and shifts once on the couch to kick her boots off. Sitting back, she listens, peering at him in the dim light. "So secret that you have to stay...?" She doesn't finish verbally, but wiggles the fingers of one hand at him to indicate his unaccustomed form.

It is the familiar 3-fingered hand that she feels, and should her hand move, she'll also feel the soft fur that covers his arm. Though, it has a slightly different feel.. a little grittier. Dirtier. Given proximity now, there's a muskiness about him..

"Particularly so," Kurt nods, his voice still low. "It is set on random, so not even I know what I will get." He prefers his own form, he really does.. and wishes he could safely change it. "I am staying low," he begins again. "Und I don't wish anyone to be needlessly worried."

Fern gives the hand a gentle squeeze before the releases Kurt, and stands. She moves about the apartment without turning any lights on, first going to the windows to pull the curtains. "Well, just by saying that, I am now needlessly worried." Her voice is matter of fact, with a touch of wry. "Why don't you go jump in the shower and I'll make something to eat?"

Kurt chuckles and watches as she rises, pulling his feet up to a more comfortable 'perch', another hint that it is, indeed, exactly who he says he is. Gargoyle! "There are times, leibchen, when such things occur. I am always doing something for the safety of mutants."

*bamf*bamf*

In the beat of a heart, Kurt appears beside her at the curtains, and he makes to stay her hand, but not with any real urgency. "I am something of a .. well, some would call me a vigilante, und others would call me a 'hero'. Either way, I am usually almost always in something I should be.." Not, 'should not be'!

Her suggestion of taking a shower, however? That earns her a wry smile in return from the fuzzy-but-not-fuzzy elf. "Am I that bad?" It has been over a week!

"Are you taking self defense classes yet?"

Fern turns her attention to the not fuzzy, not blue, not elf as he appears, letting him stop her by holding his hand again. Her smile, surely more easily seen than she can see him, is a wry, crooked pull. "I would call you a hero," she says softly. He did save her life, after all. But her smile broadens and she even huffs a soft laugh. "Not that bad," she says, noticing the brimstone more than his unshowered state. Her other hand comes over to take his arm, rubbing lightly against the grittiness of his fuzz. "You feel it, though." From the sudden lift of her brows, his last question is a bit of a surprise, uncannily timely. Her eyes drop, and she answers a bit vaguely, "Yeah, I've made some arrangements."

"Good.. I know I smell a little different than non-mutants. I think it's the fur.." Kurt grins at being referred to as 'hero', and he inclines his head. "I do a lot of saving, though you were a special case. Und, I do a lot of.." He looks for the word, silent for a moment before, "snooping. I am very good at that."

As her other hand coming to rub at his fur, that face that isn't his registers a brief flicker of pain before he turns away to cough. "The fur needs to be cleaned, ja.." he offers softly. "I hope you have enough product."

The question, his question, has a purpose behind it. "Gut.. because as much as I'd liked to have done that, I cannot yet. Und it is something you need to do."

That second of pain isn't missed, and Fern pulls her hand away. She doesn't question it directly though, instead the hand still holding his gives a light tug and she moves toward the bathroom. "Just try not to clog the drain," she admonishes lightly. And yes, she walks him over to the door, doesn't give him a moment to bamf. "There's nothing wrong with being good at snooping. Not with the things you get faced with." Although it might make his life easier, sans snooping. His hand is released so Fern can bend, retrieving two towels and a washcloth off a low shelf, turning to pass them to him. The bathroom is no-frills, but the water is hot and the pressure is good. The product? Perhaps disappointingly, Suave. Cheap but decent. Her head tilts at his words. "You'd teach me?"

Kurt allows his hand to be held, and even moreso, to be led towards the bathroom. As they move away from windows, there's a shimmer, and the form returns to a much more familiar one.. one of a blue, fuzzy elf, complete with tail. He's wearing somewhat dirty clothes, and his 'true' expression is a little drawn, and tired. But, it's Kurt. The real Kurt.

"Snooping is what I do best, leibchen," Kurt responds, a touch of pride in those tones. "Und, more often than not, I am a taxicab. But.. there are times when I put my ability to fight to the test." Which is probably why he'd mentioned 'self defense'.

Holding his hands out, one higher than the other, Kurt accepts the towels with a bemused smile. "I will try to get all the fur from your drain. I would not wish for anyone to find blue hair left behind."

Placing the towels down on the small commode, Kurt begins to peel off his shirt. The clean, white bandage on the shoulder shows up against the blue fur, and there's a little hint of seepage. Nothing too bad that would be considered 'a problem'. "Ja, I would. But I am better at teaching.. observation, und how to keep moving. How not to get caught.. because you, leibchen? You cannot stand und fight. You need to dodge und get away."

Fern's smile comes more easily when faced with the familiar blue face. Sure, it was still him, but it wasn't -him-. It's a little unsettling. "A taxicab." Amusement at this assessment of him ability. She doesn't comment on any blue fur being found, instead stepping back toward the door, having to brush closely against Kurt in the small space. Facing him again, whatever else he has to say is lost in a concerned frown at sight of the spotted bandage, and she steps forward quickly. "Doodle, what's happened?"

Kurt is in his.. entirety now. Blue. Furry. Glowing yellow eyes. Fangs. Tail. Dirty clothes. Once the shirt is off, he folds it up neatly and sets it to the side. Straightening again, he draws a breath as she brushes past him. He can feel the warmth of her, and ...

Lifting his hands, there's no real place to put them where he stands, though now he reaches out to take her hands. Her stepping forward does put her easily into personal space.. not that he believes in it particularly. "Was?" Beat. He offers something of a lopsided, sheepish smile, "I was lucky?" There were a whole lot more bullets flying than just that one that got him!

Fern bats lightly at his hands, not letting them catch her own this time, distracted by that white against his blueness. "Lucky?" she asks wryly, the eyes that lift to him not amused. Lightly, her fingers pluck at the tape, pulling it gently enough to not rip any fur off, until she can remove the bandage. She draws in a sharp breath at the wound below, frown deepening to furrow deep creases in her brow. "Kurt." The single word holds a menace foreign to her usually sunny disposition.

"Ja, lucky.." Kurt repeats, though he winces as the tape is pulled from the fur. There, beneath, is a .. mostly sewn up hole in the shoulder. It's recent.. within the last week, certainly. It's not red and angry, thankfully.. but it also shows the fact that the skin beneath the fur is black. He raises his hand to hers to rest lightly there. "It is alright, leibchen," he murmurs. "In the span of my life, this is not the worst thing that has happened to me." Those yellow eyes look at her own .. normal ones, and he leans in to kiss her cheek. "I am fine, I swear." Upon a wrist, now, can be seen a bracelet that hadn't, perhaps, been seen before. Raising it, he offers another smile, one of his three fingers looking to touch the underside of her chin to bring her head up. "I am not alone, however.. I am never alone. Not when I have you.. und.. family."

While she's got no medical training, she's a girl who's not a stranger to various wounds and what infection looks like. One finger touches gingerly at the dark skin around the hole, making sure nothing oozes telling of infection unseen. She sighs and shakes her head lightly, "This is just about the farthest thing from alright that there is, Doodle." Her eyes lift to meet his, before her head inclines to accept the chaste kiss. "And this is hardly fine." She lets her face shift at his gentle urging, eyes meeting his levelly. For a moment, she just looks at him, mild frustration in her eyes before she huffs her breath out. "Get in the shower. I'll bandage that back up for you after we eat something." She brings her hand up to touch his chin lightly, then turns to leave him to some privacy.

Kurt watches with a little trepidation as the finger comes close to poke at his wound, and the muscle stiffens as she makes contact. Even gingerly. He smiles a little tightly, but it's a genuine, fond smile. "It is better than what could have occurred, leibchen," he murmurs softly, those yellow eyes soft. "I was going after a bad man who was hurting mutants. Und he needed to be stopped. He was a mutant who could control other people's minds, und those poor people? They had no choice.. und they were forced to shoot at me." Us. Mother. "I could not allow him to remain und continue to do research.." He pauses, and looks, almost begs for understanding, "He had to be stopped."

Taking a deep breath, Kurt offers a smile again in the face of her frustration, and it grows.

"Come with me?" he teases. When she turns to leave, to give him privacy, he exhales in a sigh. "Guess not."

Fern does understand the goodness of Kurt's heart, but it doesn't mean she has to be happy about the wound that came from it. As he entreats her to stay, she calls back over her shoulder, "Behave." The young woman heads right for the kitchen, pulling together some things from cabinets and refrigerator. Thankfully, she bought some ham from the corner store, and got to bring home some bread from the restaurant. She's got a half bag of potato chips, and some mustard for the sandwiches. She leaves it all on the counter, returning to the bathroom door. She listens for a moment, hearing the water running, then goes to the closet and gets her flannel robe. It's huge on her, so should fit Kurt without too much pulling. She slips in quietly, picking up his clothes and dropping the robe in their place, and steps out again.

The parting remark, telling him to behave! brings a grin to the elf's face, and eying the shower, leans over to turn the water on. He waits a few minute or so before reaching out to check on the temperature before he sheds the rest of his clothing and steps in. Hissing in a breath, he exhales slowly, shudderingly before he lets himself get completely soaked.

It's not another couple of minutes before singing can be heard coming.. and it is, of course, in German. Something upbeat.. and he doesn't even begin to guess that there is a clothing thief!

After a full ten, fifteen minutes under the running water, and very close to a third of the shampoo used, he rinses off and makes to step out of the shower and into the foggy room. Kurt reaches for one of the towels to put on his head, the other to dry the rest of his body off and wrap about his waist. Once that's done, wet elf that he is, he looks for his clothes, and.. doesn't find them. Instead..

Picking up the flannel robe, he teleports out to the living room, towel about his waist, towel on dark indigo hair.. and robe in hand. "Where are my clothes?" He doesn't sound upset.. but.. concerned to say the least! And, in case Fern ever wanted to know, the elf is .. completely furry. Feet. Tail. Back. Chest.. all.. blue and furry.

The familiar bamf turns Fern away from the table, to which she's added milk, glasses, plates, and she regards the elf mildly. She didn't really expect him -not- to be furry all over. "I had some laundry to do, so I took your things and threw them in with mine." At this very second, Kurt's shirt is doing the washing machine mambo with one of Fern's tank tops. Don't even ask what his pants are doing. "My blow dryer is in the bottom drawer. Fluff out, put the robe on, and come eat."

"But.. but.." and Kurt looks at the robe, looks at Fern, and back at the robe. "I don't blow dry my fur. It dries naturally. Und.. before you ask, dry heat gives me split ends.. und you don't want to see that."

Kurt turns away and takes a couple of steps such that there is a wall between the pair before he shrugs the robe on.. gently.. and loses the towels. Each of them have the tell-tale bits of fur stuck in them. Blue.. not leaving any question as to who they could belong to. Unless, of course, Dr. McCoy makes housecalls?

"That.." now that Kurt's worked out that there's actually food to be had..? He walks back into the kitchen, and puts his hands on the back of the chair. He looks a little.. strange in the flannel, to be sure. He's a little bigger around the chest; his arms fill out the sleeves.. and there really isn't a place for his tail, so it hangs, half of it sticking out the bottom. (If it pulls up? Well.. it won't be just the tail showing!) "Food? I admit, I am hungry.."

Fern nods to the chair on which Kurt leans, "Sit, Doodle. You like ham? I hope so, it's about all I have." She's not made the sandwiches, but the ham is on a plate, and she deals two slices of bread out to each of their own plates. Her head nods to items as she lists them, "There's mustard, not regular but honey mustard, I hope that's ok, and potato chips. I have ketchup, if you want it for the chips." She ties the bag of bread back up, then reaches across the table for the milk, pouring them each a glass. She doesn't seem at all flustered to have a rather scantily clad demon hanging out at her place. "How's your shoulder?" she asks as she finally slides to sit in the other chair.

"It is all.." she has. Yes, she said that. Kurt has the grace to look concerned in that, and his gaze lingers upon her for a few long moments, seeing if he can tell if she's gained a pound or two.. or lost. Taking his seat, careful of his tail, he pushes it forward and begins to create a sandwich with what is offered. Ham. Mustard. Chips on the side.. and he nods his head. "It is more than enough, leibchen.. really. A meal fit for a king."

Waiting for the milk, he reaches with his good hand and takes hold of it, placing it down in front of his spot.

There's the moment, then, where Kurt 'crosses himself', offering a quick blessing, "Bless these thy gifts we are about to receive.." and finishes it with nomine patris et filii spiritus sancti.

Once done, yellow eyes rises, his tones still soft as he nods, "It is.. painful only when I move it.. und then you are supposed to say, 'Then do not move it!'.."

She doesn't look any thinner, but Fern certainly hasn't put on any weight, either. She's still a little bit on the thin side from the whole Bangkok thing, but not unhealthily so. "I wish I had something more, but we take what we can get." Her words are light, her attention on building her own small sandwich, supplementing it with chips. She pauses, expecting the prayer, respectfully waiting until he's ready to eat. Exaggerated exasperation is directed at him. "You're supposed to wait so I can actually say it, Doodle."

"It is more than enough, leibchen. Thank you." His tones are soft, grateful for the moment of quiet. Warm shower.. and food with a friend. He's decided, sitting there, that he'll be shopping for her and drop it off during her work.

A chip is taken, and Kurt grins as he takes the first bite. "Now you must come up with another witty remark.. und I am certain you will be up for the task."

Fern picks up her sandwich in both hands, taking a bite and looking at him as she chews. "I'd rather you just try not getting shot, hm?" She puts the sandwich back down, peeling the top slice of bread off. Holding it in one hand, her other hand arranges a layer of potato chips on top of the ham slices, before the bread is put back in place. She picks up the sandwich again, more carefully so the chips can't fall out, and takes a bite that crunches.

"I didn't throw myself in front of the bullet, leibchen," Kurt begins again in his defense. "There were sechs.. six men, all with guns.. und they were all shooting in a small room." He grins as he watches her build her sandwich, and begins to do likewise.. pulling the top slice off, and loading the chips on, one by one. "So.. by mathematics, there would be at least sixty bullets flying if they had a 10 round magazine.. und in a small room, with it ricocheting? Take that to ein hundert .. plus."

Pleased with his pile, Kurt puts the lid on his sandwich and presses down lightly, just enough to hear a crack sound to the chips. "I would say that I did a damned good job at avoiding being hurt."

Blue eyes drift across the table, and Fern smiles, seeing Kurt add to his sandwich as well. "It's better with the salt and vinegar chips," she notes. But beggars can't be choosers. "Gah, don't tell me numbers like those. I'll never be able to sleep for worrying about you." While still lightly said, the words hold a weight, as does her pointed look. "You did a damned good job at avoiding being hurt -more-, granted." She takes another crunchy bite, then balances the sandwich carefully in one hand, taking up her glass of milk with the other. There's a pause, her eyes dropping, before she says evenly, "You know One could take a look at your shoulder if you wanted."

Kurt shakes his head and takes the first tentative bite of his sandwich with a *crunch*. He looks.. baffled for a moment as the flavours come together.. the ham, the mustard and the chips.. and he chews.. and chews.. silently before he swallows. "That is.. different.

"Fern.. do not worry about me, really.. though it warms my heart to hear your concern. I do what I have been doing for years. Sometimes I am fine, und others?" Kurt lowers his head and murmurs, "Sometimes I am hurt. But I am never down for long. You will learn that." After all, he's back after two difficulties- here, at her table. Granted, she is too..

At the suggestion, the elf pauses before he shakes his head, his voice dropping. "I do not like him, leibchen." Beat. "No.. I do not trust him. Und he has information on my .. genetics." He looks to her with a long, pensive gaze before, "How can I be sure that it will not be used against me?" There's a long moment before he straightens in his seat a little, the spade-tip of his tail twitching. "Genetics.. those are the only things that can truly hurt us, Fern. Bio-weapons. Research.." As an end, he exhales in a sigh, a genuine one where he makes his confession, "He scares me.. having so much information about me now."

Fern grins, watching Kurt's reaction. "Seriously, it's better with the other chips. I'll make us a picnic this summer, you'll see." She sighs. "You know you can tell me not to worry until you're blue in the face," yes, there's a sparkle in her eyes at that, "But I'm still going to. So save your breath. You just better always come back." The grin fades, to be replaced by a light frown. "He wouldn't." The words are quiet, and not as confident as they might have been weeks ago. "I could ask if he would give it to me to give to you." The underlying fact of the statement is that she's apparently in touch with the self proclaimed doctor once again. Fern reaches over, laying her hand gently on Kurt's flannel covered arm, saying more surely, "He wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

"I have a copy of his research, leibchen.." Kurt's voice is quiet. "It is.. quite comprehensive." Which scares the hell out of him. "I am no one to him.. so, what does it matter?" Shaking his head, he tears his eyes away from her to look away. "I will not go." Gives a better idea, then, as to why he was nervous at the apartment.. and he was 'slapped down', as it were.

He smirks at her choice of words, blue in the face, and actually barks a laugh. "I promise you," and those glowing yellow eyes return to her, falling to a serious sobriety, "I will always come back."

There's almost a wince at the depth of Kurt's worry, and Fern stands, moving behind Kurt's chair. Carefully, she drapes her arms over his chest from behind, mindful of his wounded shoulder. "Don't worry about that," she says softly. There's a ding from her phone and she places a light kiss on the top of his head. "The washer should be done, I'll go put our stuff in the dryer. You keep eating, Doodle." She reaches over and picks up some change from the counter, then heads for the door in her stocking feet. "You know, you can stay the night. It's not much, but it's warm and I don't mind sharing the couch. Think about it."

Kurt's lived a life of 'no one will care about the blue mutie', and chooses to live by the motto 'hope for the best but prepare for the worst'. "If that research gets out? Und to the wrong hands?" He shakes his head slowly, "They could take away all that is me. My bamf, perhaps my ability to see in near darkness.. und my hiding in the dark.." That's not to mention the fur.

Does he worry? Absolutely.. but never 'will I make it out of this fight alive?' It's more about the larger plight of mutants.

Kurt rolls his head back at her gesture, and offers a smile.. minus showing the points on those canines of his. "It is what I am fighting for, leibchen.. of course I worry. Even if he does not, didn't his clones get his information?" That's just it.. he doesn't know the definitive answer to that.

Once Fern straightens from her lean, and takes her quarters, Kurt also rises.. and touching the image inducer that sits upon his wrist, there is that unsettling shimmer before he is yet another person. A blond.. blue eyed teenager in jeans, a t-shirt and converse. "I'll go with you.." to be sure she's safe!

"I will stay.. for a little while, but before the sun comes up, I should go."

And so.. the pair go to finish the laundry, his pants torn from Fern's, though with great difficulty! Laundry is sorted, warm when Kurt puts it back on.. and settling on the couch, finds sleep a little faster than even he had expected.