Thoughts and Dreams

by Ro

He sat alone in the garden, his pose relaxed and easy in meditation; but in reality he was far from serene. *I should ferget this,* he thought sadly. *She's too good fer the likes o' me. Too young, too beautiful... what could she see in an ugly old mug like me?*

He thought of the other women in his life, the ones he'd loved beyond reason. Silver Fox. Gone, murdered by Creed. Mariko Yashida. Poisoned by an enemy, dying in his arms; her suffering put to an end by his hand.

Jubilee. Still a girl in many ways, she'd been carrying a torch for him for quite some time. He'd known about it, of course; a blind man would've caught it, and he was far from that. But he wouldn't act on it because of her age, her naiveté. She deserved a chance, not some old war horse who didn't know how to be civilized half the time. Besides, he thought of her as his daughter more often than not.

Ororo Munroe. She'd been worshipped as a goddess, and still remained as serene and elegant as her namesake. Powerful, too; she could call down the powers of nature with deadly force if need be. Still, she remained gentle and kind, and was one of his dearest friends. Never to be more.

Jean. Married to someone else, loving her husband deeply, but still always finding time for him when he needed a friend. He'd loved her from a distance for so long, he couldn't remember things being different; but he would never be closer than a friend. She loved Scott entirely too much, and he wouldn't destroy her by encouraging anything.

Katherine Pryde. Kate. Kitty. All the other names he'd known her by, and they all added up to one thing; heartache. Oh, yes, she'd grown up considerably since he'd first met her; she'd been a gangly child of only thirteen, and still far more intelligent than any of them had given her credit for.

He'd watched her grow for several years, treating her as his daughter, much the same as Jubilee. Never allowing himself closer than that fatherly role, always knowing she'd be better off without him. Then she'd left for England.

He'd been upset at the news, but not as upset as he was at the thought of her suffering over her powers the way she was. He'd ached over the thought of losing her, but still put it down to fatherly concern. So he put it out of his mind, or tried to, and got on with business.

Time passed... but he didn't stop thinking about her. He'd cursed himself as a sick old lecher, wanting her so bad as young as she was, but he couldn't get her out of his thoughts. She was always there somewhere, just on the brink of his conscious mind, waiting. Waiting for him to notice that she'd grown up.

Notice he had, too. When Viper came for him, she'd been there. Been there to protect him--- not that he needed it--- but she'd been there. Supportive and still managing to make him feel the hurt that hit her at his supposed betrayal.

She'd gone with him to Madripoor, too, for that farce of a wedding. But when he'd seen her in that dress... something had clicked over in his head and said, "Maybe this isn't hopeless after all." Then a second later he'd come to his senses and stifled the urge to kiss her.

She'd made that joke about running away together... but she hadn't known, couldn't have known, how it affected him. He wanted so badly to take it seriously; but he knew he wouldn't. She was too young and he was honor-bound by his promise to Seraph.

Another memory, still with the power to churn his guts with fear. Yes, fear, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone else. Seeing Kitty supposedly vaporized by the Cerebrite had chilled him to the bone and sent him over the edge. Oh, they'd still managed to beat the thing and get her back (along with Chuck and Ororo), but he'd been avoiding her since then.

That was when he realized he had a problem. He just -couldn't- take advantage of her, no matter how grown-up she was, or how much he wanted her. So he stayed out of her way, hoping to meditate some of the tension from himself before he had to face her again. If he didn't, there were going to be fireworks.

Abruptly he rose, needing to be on the move. His restlessness he chalked up to tension; there wasn't anything threatening nearby, at least not that he could scent. *Maybe a good workout is what I need,* he thought ruefully, and just as quickly, discarded the idea. He knew what he needed... but did she need him? Only time would tell. And until he knew, really -knew,- that she wouldn't turn away from him, he'd keep his distance. After all, that was the only honorable thing to do...

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