“No, Terry, don’t answer the duh –”
Kitty had experienced a hell of a morning, jumping on and off of buses, on and off of trains, on and off of cabs, to finally make it to the mansion and discover there had been something of an explosion in her luggage. She wasn’t sure of the culprit, whether it was her conditioner, her shampoo or her moisturiser, but she had been fit to pull her hair out upon the discovery. Fortunately, her make up was spared, but the same could not be said for the wash bag the perpetrator had crept out of, nor her clothes. Every single article of clothing she had packed in her suitcase, she tipped out into a laundry basket, and carried downstairs in a huff, descending into the foyer when there was a knock on the door.
But Terry was already there, her strawberry blonde head of hair bopping in the direction of the porch, and it wasn’t long before Kitty got her wish. Oh, the little siren did answer the door, but she promptly shut it again after. “What the frack was that about?” she demanded of her student, bopping back off in the direction of the kitchen, “I. don’t. talk. to. strangers” the red head repeated, as if her teacher’s problem was that she didn’t hear her. “Yeah, no, got that part, but what about the part where he asked for me and not to kidnap you?” the gangly brunette questioned, “Well, people don’t often just come up to you, and tell you to your face they’re gonna kidnap you. My uncle pretended to be my Dad” she pointed out.
“Your uncle was a terrorist!” Kitty retorted, “And Tony Stark as good as made WMDs” but before Terry could defiantly fold her arms across her chest, Kitty shoved the laundry basket she was holding in her direction, marched toward the door, and opened it again, “Hi!” she squeaked, the brazenness she had demonstrated in her text messages retreating, momentarily, “I’ll be with you in just a moment, I just got a few things I need to take care of – ” but before she could finish what she was saying, Terry was quick to speak up again, “Why don’t you invite him in, Professor K?” she suggested, and the gangly brunette quickly glowered in her direction, “It’s rude to leave people just standing at the door, you know” she added.
Gritting her teeth, Kitty slowly turned back in Tony’s direction, and in an effort to avoid being shown up by that Irish brat, did as Terry suggested, “Come on in” she offered through those same gritted teeth, before dashing in her student’s direction to mutter under her breath, “No powers, you hear! If I so much as hear a whimper from you –” but once again, the red head spoke up, “What do you mean, no powers?” she questioned, and rather loudly too, forcing the gangly brunette to think and think fast, “I mean, that… thing… that… thing you do… when you… lick your finger, and stick it in my ear” of all the things, she prided herself on her smarts, but she simply wasn’t quick enough in this instance to employ them effectively.
Kids, if Kitty wasn’t already pretty damn sure she was never going to have them, she became a professor, and now she was contemplating sterilisation so as to dash any hopes of that possibility. Seriously… who thought procreation was a good idea? The gangly brunette almost felt sorry for Sean. For a moment there, he didn’t have a kid, and then Terry showed up, and he was suddenly a father. She couldn’t have coped, though she wasn’t certain if it was the kid she couldn’t cope with, or the fact the kid was Terry that she couldn’t cope with, brazen little brat that she was. “You mean this?” she asked, and immediately proceeded to test her teacher’s patience, licking her finger, and sticking it in her ear.
Both, Kitty quickly decreed. It was definitely both, and it was a struggle to swallow the temptation to grab Terry, shift her into an intangible state, and leave her in the wall for the surroundings to do their job. “Yeah…” the gangly brunette growled, “Something almost exactly like that…” she snarled, “And this…” but before the red head could proceed to rifle through the contents of the laundry basket, and Kitty could see it, the way her eyes came to rest on a particularly racy pair of undies, she quickly snatched it back. “Too far, Terry, too far…” but then, she took it a step further, “You’re rich, right, Mr. Stark? Do you mind if I ask you something?” she asked.
“How can you tell, if a girl is interested in you for you, or for your money?” Terry questioned, glancing back in her teacher’s direction momentarily, “I’m genuinely interested. Not saying you’re a gold digger or anything…” the red head shrugged as Kitty stood there, aghast, “Oh my… God-I-don’t-believe-in…”