Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men, or any reference to them, I am only making them do my bidding. Is that clear?

Authors note: This story takes place after chapter nine of Best Laid Plans…for those who don't want to go read it to figure out what's going on…Kitty was injured in a fight with Jean, Kurt was hurt later…do to a large amount of injuries and lack of cots in med-lab, they were both tucked into the same bed while unconscious.

Chance and Circumstance

          Kurt drifted into consciousness, a little at a time. He was warm, and safe…nothing threatened him…he was snuggled in a fluffy blanket…and he wasn't alone. He stopped breathing for a moment as this fact sunk in. His arm was curled protectively across someone's ribs, his tail wrapped around their waist.

He couldn't remember inviting anyone to his bed…and he was quite certain that he had not been drunk…although the shooting pain in his head could be attributed to such a state. So that brought up the question, who was in the bed with him?

He cracked open one eye open, bracing himself…and all he saw was a mass of curly brown hair. He watched, fascinated as his every breath seemed to give the curls a life of their own…they swayed and danced lightly over the exposed, pale throat of his companion. He traced the contours of her shoulder with his eyes as it slid into a stretched out t-shirt…and then into the blanket they shared.

His eyes strayed to the ceiling, and it wasn't his ceiling. Wasn't his room, with the movie posters and crucifix…there were clean, metal lines and soft clicking sounds. It sounded an awful lot like the med-lab…His mind made the mental connection, and he realized it was the med-lab in all it's clinical glory.

If this was med-lab, and he was holding a woman…surely an x-man…with brown hair…he closed his eyes with a sigh and breathed in the scent of her hair. Kitty, it was his katzchen, Kitty Pryde.

This was his dream, simply to hold her, and feel her breathe. To listen to her heart…he had never thought to realize it. She smelled of herbs and clean metal, and just faintly of brimstone; probably a legacy of her dragon. She was soft, and warm…and so perfect it made his heart ache.

It was improper for him to be here…to be in the same bed with her, no matter how injured either of them might be. He gently, ever so gently began to uncurl his tail…to move his arm…taking great pains to avoid improper areas. As he moved the blanket gaped open and the chill air of the med-lab flooded in. Kitty shivered and rolled over with a sigh, snuggling herself to his chest.

Even as he froze in shock, feeling her snuggled against him, he couldn't help but wonder at how nice it felt…how beautiful she looked, even with the darkened bruises on her face, legacy of her fight with Jean. She whimpered softly in her sleep, and then started to shiver and cry silently, as if she was locked in some nightmare.

He looked down at her, shocked. Then he gave up, he couldn't leave her…not like this, when she trusted him in her sleep. He curled himself about her, offering shelter and comfort. Gradually her tears stopped and she slept deeply. He cradled her under his chin and thought…or dreamed…of a possible future with this amazing woman.

He wanted so desperately to be able to hold her under different circumstances…to have the right to. He didn't feel honorable, embracing her during this bout of weakness…but he couldn't help himself. It may be his only chance to ever do so. Lord knew that she would never look at him as anyone other than a friend. He felt self-pity welling up in his chest, tears coming to his eyes…She had such a bright future, out there... She had once told him she wanted to go to college; to live out in the normal world…someone like him could never fit into that dream.

 He knew that he loved her, but like most of his favorite movies, it was a hopeless love; one that could never be…but was a lovely dream. How do you tell someone that you love them in the deepest depths of your heart? He couldn't, and never would. She needed no further burdens on her young soul. He would treasure this moment with her, hold it like a precious relic on nights that he was cold and disillusioned, and she would move on…free of chains, to go out and shine in the world like she deserved.

But until then…he held her close, and dreamed…and cried into her mahogany tresses…grateful to the circumstances that allowed him to hold her close, even as it was a slow torture that made his heart break.

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Well, this was a little outside my normal prevue…but I like how it turned out…I may write Kitty's side of this a little later…