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Kitty sat on the bunk in her room at the base and contemplated the... well, she guessed it was a communicator. An intergalactic one. The temptation to take it apart and see how it worked had been huge, but the risk that she might break it had stopped her. Even though she hadn't intended to use it, the thought of not being able to use it made her heart sink in disappointment.
And she really hadn't planned to call, no matter what she'd said to Peter. Not because she hadn't felt a spark between them, but because she had. She was already hiding out in a secret base in northern Canada, trying to teach a bunch of time-displaced teenagers while tiptoeing through the mutant political minefield. She really didn't need the additional complication of a long distance relationship. Except that a long distance relationship sounded like such a simple problem to deal with right now, and at least it actually had an up side to go with all the down sides.
"Well, sounds like you've made up your mind," she muttered to herself. She poked the transmit button before she could second-guess the decision.
The communicator hummed at her for a minute before a beam leaped out from the surface and projected a hologram into the nearest open space. Kitty started, the image breaking up for a second, before the device adjusted the display. He hadn't said it did projections.
"Kitty!" Peter said, grinning. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of close fitting pants a bit like jeans, except for how they weren't. She couldn't tell what color they were--the entire image was rendered in a kind of gray-blue tone--but she could see that he was sitting at a table with a mug in front of him. "It's nice to hear from you."
Kitty tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled back. "It's not a bad time, is it? I don't even know what sort of hours you're on out there."
"Whatever hours we need to be," Peter said wryly. "No time zones in space, and the planets are all different. I'm just having breakfast," he lifted his mug. "How about you? What time is it there?"
"Just after dinner," she said, and couldn't stop herself from sighing, shoulders slumping a bit.
"Menu not to your taste?"
A corner of her mouth quirked up. "I wish it were that simple. You know that line about never discuss religion or politics? Well, those seem to be the only things we do discuss, sometimes. Just... I needed to talk to someone who isn't constantly on the verge of launching into a mutant rights rant or a debate over what time travel means to fate and responsibility."
"That I can do," Peter said. He leaned back and put his feet up on something out of the range of the display. "Anything in particular you want to talk about?"
She shrugged and set the comm unit on her bed, lifting her feet and folding herself into a cross-legged position. "Not in particular. Tell me a story, maybe. Something that's happened to you out there."
"A story," Peter repeated, humming thoughtfully. Suddenly he grinned, his eyes taking on a playful twinkle. "Okay, I've got one. We were all having some down time, so we weren't all together. Me and Rocket were taking it easy, having a few drinks, checking out the... ah, scenery." He shot her a glance and she rolled her eyes and gestured for him to go on. As if she was going to get pissed at him for looking at women God knew how long ago.
His shoulders relaxed a bit and he went on. "Anyway, we're having a few drinks, and some bounty hunter slips us something. Next thing I know, Rocket and I are waking up locked into a cell in the back of the guy's ship--stark naked."
"He stripped you?" Kitty blurted. "Why?"
"He never said, but my best guess is that we were described as extremely dangerous and he figured it was the best way to make sure we were unarmed," Peter said, shrugging. "Which I can't really blame him for, because we have a fair amount of experience escaping situations like that, and stripping us did take most of our resources away."
Kitty arched an eyebrow. "Only most?"
Peter put on a mock solemn look and tapped his head. "Brains." Kitty giggled and he grinned again. "So anyway, there we are, in the buff, in this tiny cell. The whole ship was tiny; there were just bars and a few yards between us and the pilot, not even separate compartments. Which meant he could hear every word we said, so we took a couple shots at talking him around or threatening him. But no go, so we run down. Now, you gotta remember," Peter went on, "we'd been drinking before this, and we'd been at it for awhile. Slowly enough that I was still only a bit buzzed, but once we stopped trying to talk the guy around, I realized that I needed to pee. Badly."
"Let me guess," Kitty said. "No bathroom."
"Not in the cell," Peter confirmed. "Not even a drain. So I'm holding it and holding it, and finally I yell at the guy, 'Hey, I need to pee.' He barely even glances at me. Another minute goes by and now I really need to go." Peter's grin widened as he anticipated the rest of the story. "This bounty hunter isn't paying any attention, and I gotta distract myself or I'm going to piss myself, so I start bitching to Rocket. You know the kind of shit you say when you feel like that. 'My back teeth are floating.' 'I'm gonna explode if I don't take a leak.' 'My eyes must be turning yellow.' 'If I don't go soon there's going to be permanent damage.' You know the type, right?" Kitty nodded, and Peter's grin widened. "Well, after I've been at it about five, ten minutes, Rocket and I notice that the guy is getting really twitchy."
Kitty's jaw dropped. "He thought you were serious?"
Peter started laughing. "Yeah! He puts the ship on autopilot and comes over and says, 'Shut up, Spartax don't do any of that.' And Rocket puts on this look and shakes his head and says, 'He's only half Spartax. The other half is human. He really could die if he doesn't relieve himself.'"
Kitty found herself leaning forward. "And what, he let you out?"
"Oh no," Peter said with relish. "It gets better. So the guy says, 'Well, I guess he's going to have to wet himself, then.' I got stuck there, but Rocket thinks fast, so he says, 'If he goes in here, I'm gonna die! Human urine is poisonous!'" Kitty broke down laughing, but Peter waved at her. "Wait, wait, it gets better! I figure I have to sell it, and I'm the higher-value target anyway, so I look at Rocket and I say, really serious. 'Rocket, if one of has to go, it's damn well going to be me.'"
"The guy let you out," Kitty guessed, biting down on her giggles.
Peter nodded. "He lets me out. But he's got a gun on me, too, right? I figure I need to throw him off. Make him panic. And I was already naked, so..."
Kitty burst into peals of laughter. "You... you..." she gasped.
Peter mimed an explosion with both hands. "Piss everywhere. The poor guy not only dropped his gun, he almost broke something trying to get to the bathroom to clean himself off. I sealed him in there, let Rocket out, and flew us to the nearest port of call."
Her laughter slowly trailing off, Kitty wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and sighed. "That's amazing."
"I just can't believe the guy didn't know any better," Peter said, shaking his head. "I mean, if Spartax and humans can interbreed, how different can their biology actually be?"
"Hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Kitty said, propping her chin up on one hand and smiling. "Thanks, Peter. That was exactly what I needed."
He half bowed from his seat. "I live to serve."
"These things go both ways, right?" Kitty asked, tapping the comm link.
"Of course."
"Well, then don't forget you can call me, too."
Peter tipped an imaginary hat. "I won't forget."
Still smiling, Kitty said goodbye and closed the connection.
***
Rocket stepped into the galley and shot Peter a doubtful look. "Did you just tell the piss story to a girl on your first date?"
"It wasn't a date!" Peter protested. "It was a phone call."
"It was a girl you like and a potential long distance relationship," Rocket said. "Therefore, it was a date."
Peter shrugged. "Well, I got her laughing, which was the plan, so I think it worked out pretty well."
Rocket shook his head. "Humans," he muttered.
~!~