Gingerbread Houses

Author: Minarya

Characters: Kurt and Ororo

Disclaimer: Marvel owns everything. I'm just playing.

Summary: What are a few burnt cookies between friends? Set during current Uncanny.

Rating: PG to be safe.

A/N: This was written for a Christmas fic-writing challenge on the kurorofaith LJ community. I know it's a tad late for the actual holiday, but hopefully some of you are still in the spirit!

While it was no secret that Kurt Wagner loved to show off, and that an appreciative audience was almost always welcome, at the moment he couldn't be happier that he seemed to be the only person in the mansion.

With a bounce to his step he made his way down the hallway toward the kitchen, bare feet barely making a sound against the wood. Ever the shadow, came the unbidden thought, and Kurt promptly chased it away by starting to hum some carol or another under his breath. He might appreciate a bit of solitude - particularly with all the insanity that usually came with the holidays around here - but too much quiet rarely did anyone any good.

Besides - Kurt was in a truly good mood for the first time in ... well, quite a while, and he intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. This morning an impulsive decision had taken him to the gym (despite the team's intensive training session the day before that had left him sore and aching and prompted the group decision to take today off), and for the past few hours Kurt had managed to lose himself in a rhythmic, meditative succession of vaults and blocks and handsprings and climbs. His only regret, as always, was that he didn't have a suitable partner for a proper routine, but even that disappointment was fleeting. He had needed this time, even more than he had realized. So much had been tumbling in the back of his mind - unsettling and confusing thoughts and worries, things he could not have put a name to if asked. Nothing had been solved during his workout, of course, but at least he had come to the renewed realization that some things were out of his control entirely. Much as he might wish otherwise, he did not have the power or the right to interfere with other people's lives, to change people's emotions. Events unfolded according to God's will, and simply because Kurt could not see the purpose, that did not mean there wasn't one. That was the very definition of faith, was it not?

In short, he had finally come to terms with his feelings.

Or so he thought.

It had taken him a moment to decipher the aroma wafting from the kitchen, but as Kurt made his way closer it became increasingly apparent someone was attempting to bake cookies - and failing miserably. A grin spread slowly across his face, his tail lashing the air in amusement. One of the children, undoubtedly, taking advantage of the lack of supervision. Well, he may not be able to call himself a chef, but surely he could manage to help out with a few Christmas cookies. And perhaps the very grateful person in the kitchen would be willing to part with a few by way of thanks.

He opened his mouth to call out to the hapless baker, but the words promptly died on his tongue and his mouth went instantly dry as he stepped into the kitchen doorway. Quickly he scrambled out of her line of sight before she could spot him, pressing his back against the hallway wall and closing his eyes to try and compose himself.

It was the last person he needed to see right now - but even though he knew that in his head, knew that all the hard work of the last few hours would likely fly right out the window should be continue on this path, Kurt's heart was pounding and he knew his grin was turning into a delighted smile.

He was hopeless. He was foolish. And not for the first time in his life, Kurt wondered on God's wicked sense of humor.

Easing himself off the wall, Kurt's fingers curled around the door frame and peered into the cavernous kitchen. Of all people, it was Ororo - and Kurt was sorely tempted to teleport to his room to grab his camera. She was leaning over to peer into the oven, an apron tied haphazardly around her slender waist. Her endless, glorious hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, though quite a few strands had broken free to hang defiantly in her face. When she straightened, he could make out what appeared to be bits of cookie dough on her cheek, and flour dusted her soft skin. Kurt wanted desperately to laugh - it was all he could do to stifle it - but he quickly sobered when he finally caught the look of utter frustration souring her graceful features. It was not a look Kurt was accustomed to seeing from her. Even at their most desperate moments, Ororo always somehow managed to project an air of complete calm and control. The difference right now, Kurt suspected, was that she believed herself to be completely alone.

That a batch of simple cookies had the power to bring their resident goddess down to earth so thoroughly was both endlessly amusing and more than a little disturbing ... and either way, Kurt couldn't walk away. Not that he was seriously contemplating that option.

"Can I be of any assistance, Liebchen?"

Kurt stepped quickly from his hiding place, as if he just now happened upon her presence. Ororo gave a short, girlish shriek and jumped back, her hair whipping around her face as she spun around to face him. Kurt bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing - no one, no one would believe him if he told them this story.

"Kurt!" In the span of a heartbeat Ororo had composed herself as best she could under the circumstances, startled eyes softening into their usual calm regality and the hand that had flown up to cover her heart falling back to her side. "I did not realize you were here. The others went out shopping."

He nodded, slowly making his way across the cool floor and making a show of noticing the pile of burnt cookies on the island, the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the remains of broken eggshells scattered about the counter ... and a thoroughly disheveled Ororo, standing in the middle as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "And you decided to ... have a food fight?" Kurt feigned a look of disbelief. "Without inviting me? I am shocked! Appalled!"

Kurt thought he detected the corner of her mouth twitch, and was rewarded a moment later by a heavy sigh and the slight droop of her shoulders. "I would have had more success if that indeed was what I was trying to do." Ororo picked up a dough-crusted wooden spoon and tossed it into the sink before dropping onto one of the stools next to the island. "I do not know what possessed me to attempt to bake something, Kurt. I should have known better. But there was a recipe! I did not think it would be so difficult!"

Kurt was still deeply amused, but Ororo's despondency tempered his urge to tease her mercilessly. He grabbed another stool and pulled it beside hers, sitting down as his tail lashed out to grab one of the rejected cookies. As Ororo peered at him from under a fall of white, he examined its remains. Chocolate chip, it appeared to be. Or knowing Ororo, perhaps raisin. And oatmeal? For a moment Kurt contemplated taking a bite, but on second thought decided it would only add insult to injury, Carefully he replaced the cookie onto the pile.

"What brought on this sudden urge to bake?" he asked, shifting on the stool to face her fully. It wasn't that she couldn't cook, Kurt knew that, but now that he thought about it, he could only remember her making her salads or perhaps the occasional soup. "You know this place will be teeming with every kind of dessert you could imagine, in just a few days."

"I know." Another heavy sigh, and Kurt's smile faded just the tiniest bit. All joking aside, Ororo actually seemed upset about all of this. "I suppose I just ... wanted to contribute something. I thought it might put me in the holiday spirit this year."

That wasn't the response Kurt was expecting - not that he knew what to expect - and he cocked his head, curious. "If you wanted to get into the holiday spirit, why did you not go shopping with the others? I know you do love your shopping," he teased gently, "and you certainly wouldn't be able to escape the festivities at the mall ... "

Kurt's voice trailed off when she gave him a pointed look, suddenly realizing why she hadn't accompanied the others. Dummkopf. Crowds, enclosed spaces and Ororo never mixed, even accompanied by the promise of shopping. He smiled sheepishly, though he still didn't understand what was going on. "My apologies, Liebchen." He bowed his head in exaggerated shame, then gave her a smile that she tentatively returned. Silence fell between them for a long moment, Kurt waiting for Ororo to speak and Ororo merely sitting there, head bowed and hands folded in her lap. He had the urge to reach out and take one of those hands, perhaps even to pull her into his arms as he had the night they danced among the clouds ... but that was not his place anymore, if it ever had been.

"Will you not tell me what is going on, Ororo?" he finally asked. She should be happy, bright and shining ... unless Logan had hurt her somehow. He clenched his hand at the dark thought. It was bad enough to watch his two closest friends grow even closer to each other, but if he had to take sides on top of everything else? Kurt wasn't sure he could handle that.

"Nothing is going on. Not really." Ororo sighed again, tucking her stray hair behind her ears and turning so that she now faced Kurt. "This year is no different than any other, and I have no idea why I tried something so impulsive." She laughed then, or tried to, but it didn't reach her eyes, and Kurt was slightly insulted that she thought that feeble attempt would work on him. "It just seemed like something I should know how to do, yes? Baking cookies. My mother used to make the most wonderful cookies, with frosting and sprinkles - or at least, that is how I remember it - but she never had the chance to teach me. If I ever am blessed with a daughter, it is the sort of thing I would like to be able to teach her."

Something inside Kurt twisted, and he found himself holding his breath. Ororo spoke of her parents so very rarely, and never like she did now ... after all this time, he still knew next to nothing about them, and while he had no doubt that she missed them terribly, she never allowed any of them to see that. This had nothing to do with the cookies, Kurt could see that now. Despite his earlier hesitation, he now folded his hands over hers, thumbs stroking her impossibly soft skin without conscious thought.

"You would make an incredible mother, whether you can make cookies or not." Kurt tried to catch her bright blue eyes, but she had them trained on where their hands rested. "Surely I do not need to tell you how strong and brave and fearless you are, do I? Any child would be very lucky indeed to call you their mother ... and in fact, I am sure a few of them right here in this house think of you that way already, blood or no."

He heard her take a shaky breath, and his grip on her hands tightened. After an endless moment she finally lifted her eyes to his - and if those were rare tears she was blinking back, it would be their secret. "Thank you," she whispered. "And I do not want you or anyone else to think that I do not consider you all my family - blood does not matter, I know this. Kitten, Piotr ... " Her voice faded, and she cleared her throat. "I could not care for them any more if we did happen to share a name. I suppose ... it is just this time of year."

She said the last with a bit of venom, but Kurt understood perfectly. He certainly had his issues with his own family over the years. And no matter how strong you were, no matter how content, the holidays had a way of making you feel as if you were ... missing something, if your life did not match that of the television commercials and greeting cards.

"You miss them," Kurt said simply, leaning forward a bit and closing some of the distance between them. "It is perfectly natural, even after all this time. And certainly nothing to be ashamed of. You seem to forget sometimes that you are not alone, and that none of us expect you to be so solid and unflappable all the time. We are all here for you - I am here for you. You needn't take out your frustration on poor, defenseless cookies." Reaching up without thinking, he swept his thumb across her smooth cheek to wipe away some of the smeared dough. It was a stupid move, Kurt knew it the moment he touched her skin ... he should not be this close to her. It wasn't good for him, or Ororo, or Logan.

He couldn't seem to help himself, however ... not when that heart-stopping smile tried to make its way onto her face, and not when - God help his overactive imagination - she seemed to lean into his touch, just the tiniest bit. Surely she did no such thing, but it felt as if she did, and for Kurt, that would have to be enough.

"But the cookies do not argue with me," she murmured, the faintest whisper of a smile - a real one, this time - played on her lips. "Of course, that could be because I have killed them all."

Kurt blinked at her very serious expression - then burst into delighted laughter. If he had managed to coax a joke out of the somber Miss Munroe, then surely there was hope for them all. "Oh, Ororo, you see? Your sense of humor is quite alive and well. An essential ingredient for motherhood, I'm sure you would agree."

As his laughing subsided, Kurt returned his hand to their joined ones, choosing to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that told him the comfort was no longer needed. It was suddenly the perfect opportunity to ask what he had been dying to ask, an opening into which Ororo could read nothing. It would be an innocent question, completely without ulterior motive ... however, Kurt wasn't at all sure that he truly wanted to hear the inevitable answer. There would be no hiding from those knowing eyes - and he didn't delude himself into thinking that she wouldn't be able to see right through him, even as he was able to do with her. Still ... the tiniest part of him that was ever the optimist screamed at him to just ask. Get it over with. Stop worrying the wound. Close the door. Know, once and for all ...

"Is that something you are planning, Liebchen?" Kurt steeled his nerves and sat ramrod straight, even his tail curling around the leg of the stool and then lying still. He held her brilliant blue eyes and watched carefully for any flicker of emotion. "Motherhood, I mean?"

It was Ororo's turn to blink at him, then she shook her head a little. Kurt couldn't help noticing she hadn't pulled her hands away, but he refused to dwell on that fact. "It is something I would like to have happen one day, I think." She smiled wistfully. "But unless I wish to raise the child on my own, I do not believe that would be a wise path at this point in my life."

Settle down, Kurt. His pulse had started to race and his verdammt heart was beating loud enough for her to hear. "Surely you do not think Logan would abandon you or his child, do you?" The words came a bit easier now, as he saw the confusion spread across her beautiful features. It took a great effort to keep his voice steady and the smile off his face. You are merely a friend expressing concern, that is all. "Especially if that is what you both want?"

Silence grew once again, and immediately Kurt started to worry he'd overstepped horribly. This was none of his business, not even remotely, and Ororo would be completely justified in slapping him and storming out of the kitchen - pun not intended. Kurt desperately wished for the power of time teleportation, so he could shove the words back in his mouth and pretend they had never been uttered ...

"Logan?" she finally asked blankly, canting her head. "Why would ... Logan and I have no intention of starting a family, Kurt. He ... I ... " She shook her head again, her hair falling loose, and looked at Kurt closely, a glimmer of understanding dawning in her eyes. "Why would you ask such a thing? Logan and I are friends. We always have been, and I hope we always will be. But we have never been anything more than that." She squeezed his hands then, shaking Kurt out of the stupor he suddenly found himself in. "His heart is not free, Kurt, you know that."

"What if it was?" Kurt couldn't stop himself - it was as if something were drawing the words out of him despite his will. But now that he started he had to see it through, he had to know. The words continued to tumble out. "I've seen the two of you together lately, Ororo. I know you are close - better than anyone, I know - but there has been something different, something that seems to be more than friendship."

If Ororo hadn't guessed before, the quiet desperation Kurt could hear in his own voice should tell her everything. He itched to bamf away to the safety of his room or the gardens or God, even the Danger Room at this point, but he squared his jaw and refused to budge even an inch.

He had absolutely no idea what to expect from Ororo ... before about 30 seconds ago he had had no intention of ever broaching this subject with her, let alone now, and even in his wildest imaginings he never thought to have this hypothetical conversation in the middle of a messy kitchen, with Ororo covered in cookie dough and him in an old, worn sweatshirt and the entire mansion likely to tromp through the front door buried in Christmas presents at any moment. But God did work in mysterious ways, and perhaps ... perhaps ... he might be willing to grant his most humble servant the tiniest of miracles?

Ororo seemed to deflate, just a little, her smile melting into something melancholy. Kurt pressed his lips together, determined to wait her out before he said another syllable. Whatever she was going to say, he could take it. He would take it.

"You are right - Logan and I have been a bit closer lately," she started, clearly picking her words carefully, though whether it was for her benefit or his, Kurt had no idea. "I was having some ... difficulties, and he offered to help. To listen, really. I am loathe to admit when I need assistance, as you obviously know." She laughed without humor. "But he knows as you do when I need it. And in this, I could not turn to you."

Kurt's confusion must have been plainly written on his face, for Ororo slid to the edge of her stool, turning his nerveless hands in hers as she moved closer. Their knees touched, and Kurt could feel the inviting heat of her even through two layers of denim. She bit her bottom lip for a moment - a gesture Kurt simply could not linger upon - then continued in a near whisper.

"You see, Kurt, my heart is not open, either. At least not to Logan."

The words hung there like a tempting dream, and Kurt dissected them in his head, each one with excruciating care. He didn't dare misunderstand this ... he did not want to read anything into it that didn't really exist. He must tread lightly, or he risked shattering everything ... including his own heart.

"Why is that, Liebchen?" he asked, almost breathlessly. Everything seemed to fade away until all he could see was her face, regal and proud, but he knew the truth behind that stoicism. He knew her pain and her fears and longed to know even more, the childish crush he once had on her having grown over the years into something that now gripped at his heart and twisted his gut. Perhaps he was dreaming - had he fallen from the rings back in the gym and hit his head? - but if so, he didn't dare blink and ruin the illusion.

"I thought ... " Ororo paused, her eyes darting to the space above his head, as if what she was looking for could be plucked from the air there. She cleared her throat and swallowed hard before speaking again. "Kurt, I saw you with Rachel that day. Please forgive my foolishness, but after you returned, after our dance ... " Ororo looked at him again, and this time there was no mistaking the sheen of moisture in her eyes. Kurt's mouth went dry and coherent thought fled. She seemed to hesitate, but Ororo had never been one to back down. And it seemed she would not do so now, as a too-familiar coolness settled behind her eyes. She was putting distance between them as surely as if she had stood and walked away.

"I jumped to an erroneous conclusion." Ever her tone had grown cold, become the voice she used to give orders, or ask for status reports. And Kurt would have none of it.

"How do you know it was erroneous?" he challenged her.

"I know what I saw." She spoke without anger or any hint of hurt, but the monotone hid nothing from the man who knew her so well. "And after I had a chance to think about it, I realized that Rachel was a far more suitable choice for you, Kurt. I did not wish to interfere."

"What if I wanted you to interfere?" This was completely unchartered territory, but Kurt refused to yield any ground. She was so close, and Kurt had the terrible feeling that if he let her go this time, the chance would never come again. "I saw you and Logan kiss as well, and yet you tell me there is nothing between the two of you. Why can the same not apply to myself and Rachel?"

Her eyes softened, but only for an instant. "It is not the same thing."

"Why isn't it?"

"It is too much!" The words were louder than she probably intended - Ororo looked startled at her own outburst and tried to pull away, but Kurt would not allow it.

"What is too much, Ororo?" Kurt insisted. His tail had wrapped itself around her calf now, but neither of them noticed. "Your feelings? Mine? Or is it the fear of being hurt again? Is that it?" He slid off the stool and brazenly stepped close enough to hear her labored breathing. Kurt reached up to stroke the bare skin of her neck, thrilling at the way her eyes briefly closed at the touch. Almost there. "Rachel and I are only friends," he whispered. "And I am not Forge." She stiffened beneath his fingers, but Kurt didn't let up, continuing to caress her gently.

How long they stood there, Kurt couldn't have guessed ... but he was hardly complaining, either. Not when Ororo curled one hand around his shoulder, and certainly not when she finally turned her head to face him, her full, intoxicating lips a mere breath from his. His own fingers tightened, drawing her just the tiniest bit closer.

"When was the last time you were kissed?" Kurt murmured, his heart feeling as if it might burst out of his chest. "Truly kissed?"

"I can scarcely remember." Her voice was faint and her accent thick, and Kurt suddenly could not take it any longer. This was his chance, before another mission tore them apart, or before another person did. He wasn't entirely sure she was right about Logan's feelings, or he about Rachel's, but Kurt was so tired of taking a back seat to what everyone else wanted. He wanted to hold Ororo. He wanted to be the one to take care of her, and he wanted her to be the one to fuss over him.

He wanted to kiss her.

And so he did ... right there among the misshapen cookies and spilled red and green sprinkles. At first he barely grazed her lips, tongue darting out to taste the butter and the sugar and the cinnamon he suspected was purely her own. Even more sweet was her soft, ragged exhale, the scrape of the stool against the kitchen floor as she stood to face him. He felt her other arm wrap hesitantly around his waist, and he pulled her even closer. He let Ororo be the one to seek his mouth this time, wanting her to be as sure of what she desired as he was ... and it was she who finally deepened their kiss, her soft moan drawing one of Kurt as well.

God bless Christmas! his mind proclaimed joyously as he lost himself in Ororo. Her skin put silk to shame, her hair as soft as the clouds they had danced in ... God bless holiday sales at the mall! God bless hard-to-follow cookie recipes! And mistletoe! Yes, God bless that as well, because Kurt had every intention of buying every last sprig of it and hanging it in every conceivable corner of this entire mansion - the boathouse as well, for good measure ...

"We're back!"

Kurt had no idea which hellion had announced the group's return with such enthusiasm, but he was hard-pressed to find a scowl even as he and Ororo sprang apart as if shocked.

"Hey - anyone home?! We come bearing gifts!"

And just like that, reality descended upon them once more ... cautiously Kurt sought out Ororo's eyes, silently praying the intrusion hadn't made her second-guess everything that just happened. But when she looked at him she laughed, the cold having melted away into something ... well, something warm and tender and utterly lovely. There was surprise there, true ... perhaps a bit of stunned disbelief (and truth be told, Kurt was feeling much the same way), but not the rejection or regret he feared. She reached out to stroke his cheek.

"Cookie dough," she explained, grinning broadly as she wiped her fingers on her apron.

Kurt caught her hand and pulled her close again, not caring who might happen to walk through those doors. "I think I can handle getting a little messy with you, Ororo." He winked at her mischievously, and delighted in her easy acceptance. "Just promise that you'll let me help the next time you decide to try being domestic."

Ororo pretended to be indignant, but soon gave it up with a roll of her eyes. "You are incorrigible."

"That I am, Liebchen. It is good that you recognize that fact." He wrapped her in the circle of his arms, dropping another swift, sweet kiss on her lips before resting his forehead against hers. This would likely be their last private moment for the rest of the day, if not longer, and Kurt planned to make the most of it. "After all, I do intend to make this a very merry Christmas."

"I believe it already is."