st_alksthroughwalls | [for James] a Bracha upon seeing a person of unusual features

[for James] a Bracha upon seeing a person of unusual features

Baruch Atta Hashem Meshaneh HaBriyot was probably the appropriate Bracha for either a woman streaming through a wall or a tall man of very pale complexion, but Kitty didn't know it. For all the Hebrew she did know and the customs she'd learned or was painstakingly relearning from a chunk of Talmud that had somehow ended up in Illyana's library, Kitty honestly didn't know very much about prayers and Jewish theology except the things she did know.

Like wrestling with angels, which was what she was still doing after her bar shift ended and no one was awake to spar. She changed into a t-shirt and boy shorts, both hotel branded, and went for a midnight windwalk around the property. She noted which lights were on -- no one she wanted to talk to, and which weren't -- anyone she might have, and returned to her own room, no less tired, but smelling slightly more like sage and scrub brush for her efforts.

She poured herself a drink, and then another, and threw up her hands and went walkabout again. It wasn't anything particular on her mind tonight as opposed to any other night. Mostly she was bored, a little lonely, and less interested in swearing Russians after midnight that her regular 'barge in in the middle of the night' options allowed for.

Kitty told herself that Hathaway would still be awake, strumming his guitar, drinking Scotch, brooding melancholically over Proust or Goethe or something equally impenetrable and Germanic. She elected not to question whether she believed it as she slid herself through the walls into his room, and owing to what must clearly have been a miscalculation (not at all) ended up exactly where she needed to be to settle--or better drop herself with a small bounce across the end of his bed, to rest comfortably on her stomach.

"Hiya," she said to the darkness.

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"Mrphf?" The sound was surprise and a question as he became aware of the weight on his bed and the voice in the dark. His eye blinked open and acclimated to the shadowy darkness and he became aware.

It was quicker than it might have been because of years of middle of the night calls out to crime scenes.

"Kitty?"

"Got it in one." Her voice sounded a little richer, a little sweeter, in the dark that hid her almost smile.

She reached out from where she lay, partly across his feet, and patted the covers over his leg. "I didn't wake you did I?"

"No, of course not. I lay in the dark with my eyes closed perfectly awake all the time." The dry sarcasm wasn't complaining, his tone holding a richness that admitted that she was welcome.

"Should I ask how you got in?" He reached over fumbling for the light on the bedside table.

"It wasn't a serious question," she replied, a hint of a teasing pout in her tone.

Aware he'd reached for the light, she pressed her eyes to the crook of her arm to block the first flare.

"I came in through the walls. It's what I do." She should've had a lie prepared, but it was James and she honestly didn't care.

Through the walls, he contemplated that as he flicked the light on, one arm draped across his own eyes to shield them from the first light.

"I'm going to let that go for the moment and pretend I gave you a key."

Two in the morning wasn't the time to delve into whatever abilities his friend had, and since he would have given her a key if she'd asked for one he wasn't going to come up rough about it.

Kitty thought about that for a second and decided that two am probably wasn't the right time for demonstrating mutant powers to a sleepy friend whose bedroom and bed she'd just invaded like she'd known him since they were twelve.

"I'll give you one to mine tomorrow," was what she said instead, and when enough light had seeped in that her eyes had begun to adjust, she lifted her head to smile at him.

"I wasn't fishing for a key," he protested as he squinted down at her from shaded eyes proclaiming his inability to wait until they had fully adjusted to look at her. She didn't look drunk, so he cocked his head at her then dropped it back onto the pillow.

"What time is it?" He knew it was early, but he hadn't quite gotten used tot he lack of hourly bells.

"Yeah, but I'm offering, since you can't walk through walls." She grinned at him since he was clearly trying to decide if she was drunk or not from how he looked at her.

"It's like 2, sorry. I couldn't sleep." Why she'd chosen to plague him instead of the Russians, well... She shrugged, thinking about it again. She didn't actually have a particularly good answer. Maybe it was just that being with him was easy in a different way than Yana, one more likely to lend itself to conversations that wouldn't keep her awake unless she wanted them to.

"You don't know, I could have depths." You know, wall traversing depths... he had no idea really what he was saying. He was still at least partially asleep.

But he wasn't kicking her out, and the way he shifted so there was room if she wanted a pillow was a clear indicator of that.

Kitty spied the spot he left for her and cheerfully crawled up the bed to climb into it. "You totally have depths," she told him as she settled in, facing him, on her side. "Hidden ones, even."

This was nice. She liked his room. "That's really why I'm here. To plumb the depths of James Hathaway, Oxford copper." She punched the pillow to get it to the right height and then settled in again, smiling. "So, about those depths..."

If he had depths, they were absolutely hidden. No one defined closed book quite the way James Hathaway did.

"I suppose I should be grateful you didn't say truth or dare."

"Well, now you've gone and done it." Kitty grinned and weighed the options. "Truth, unless we establish dares can be postponed until tomorrow. Your bed's comfy."

And now that her brain wasn't spinning with no one to talk to, she'd probably be able to sleep in a little bit.

"Fine," he stared at the ceiling, momentarily worried about what he was getting himself into. "Truth. You start."

Hmm. Kitty's mouth twisted while she thought through the things she could ask and wanted to know. She had lots of questions about him, but right now...

"When you can't sleep, what do you think about?"

"Music, usually." When he couldn't sleep he most often took out his guitar and tried not to think. "Thinking is usually what is keeping me awake music helps me... not think."

"I make up equations and solve them," Kitty told him. It wasn't the only thing she did, but it was one of them. "Sometimes I listen to music and mentally rehearse choreography. What would you play tonight? And, it's your turn."

"I'd play whatever came to mind, sometimes I just do complicated scales." He admitted turning his head slightly to look at her. "Why are you wandering the halls and waking unsuspecting men instead of solving equations tonight?"

Kitty smiled. Scales. Math equations. Beautiful in pure, simple ways. She understood that. "Truth, I don't really know. Or at least, not exactly. Some of it's the endless parade of bad choices in my love life and a mistake I can't undo, but some of it's more metaphysical. The nature of the soul. The persistence of memory. Whether it's ever possible to know if the friend you meet is the one you knew and whether that even matters."

"I don't think it matters," he said after a moment of silence during which he considered it. "Even if they aren't the same friend they're still a friend."

Kitty nodded and pushed her hand under the pillow to raise the level of her head a bit. "On the one hand, that's obvious, right? But, for example, Yana and her brother Piotr are friends from home. They're not from the same version of home as I am, though." She chewed at her bottom lip briefly. "As far as we know, there can't be more than one of each person here, but...like Sam Winchester's brother, Dean. He was here once and was from earlier in the timeline than Sam. Then he disappeared. When he came back, he didn't remember this place and he was a lot older than the other version."

"I think..." he was actually considering this. "If Lewis showed up, even a Lewis from before I met him or long after... I think we'd still be.. us." It would be strange, but who you were didn't change so much.

"Who's Lewis?" she asked, and since they were still sort of playing truth or dare, maybe he'd actually answer. It was the first time she could think of that he'd mentioned anyone from home, and even if she was the one who'd been looking for company tonight, he was still too much of a shut-in. He needed someone to know him.

"My governor." A long pause. "An quite possibly my closest friend, but if he does show up I'll deny I ever said it."

Kitty laughed and reached over to pat his chest. "I promise I won't rat you out. Anyone else important I should know if they happen through the front doors?"

"Laura Hobson. And Jean Innocent. Though I suppose if my father or sister arrive that would be news as well." Not that he sees them nearly as much as he probably should.

According to Nell anyway.

"Girlfriends? Colleagues?" He was so laconic. It made her want to know even more about him. She sank back down into the pillows. "It's strange, but family doesn't seem to happen very often. Unless you're a Winchester and then it happens twice."

"Colleagues. Chief pathologist and Chief Superintendent. So I suppose technically Innocent is my boss." Strange to think about Innocent that way, she WAS his boss and certainly he considered her his boss but he didn't THINK of her as his boss anymore than he considered Lewis to be his boss. And technically he was as well.

"What about you?"

"Girlfriend and boyfriend both disappeared from here, but neither was from home," Kitty answered, trying to keep her touch on those feelings light. She'd been thinking about Lara too much already lately. "I doubt they'll be back, but Lara might...her necklace and recordings showed up and they say she's looking for me."

Kitty shrugged and pushed past it. "My best friend, Illyana, and her brother who is like my brother, Piotr Rapsutin, are both here. There are a bunch of people from my world, or versions of my world. I wouldn't know where to start with all the people who aren't."

"If I meet a woman named Lara I'll be sure to find you," because that was the one that stood out to him, the way she spoke of the woman. She'd been important the way Lewis was or would be if he arrived.

There was an offer in his tone if she wanted to talk about Lara, or not if she just wanted to ask him more uncomfortable questions.

At that, Kitty laughed and reached out to pat his shoulder. "If you meet a woman named Lara and she stopped long enough to tell you that, she's either already found me, or she's not my Lara."

Lara probably wouldn't...no, she would. She would understand what she was doing here with Hathaway, because she'd always understood Kitty. And that was only part of why she missed her.

She felt the invitation, but decided not to take him up on it for now. Sleep was starting to grow on her, and talking about L was a sure way to make sure it didn't happen. Instead, she said, "You're a good guy, James Hathaway. Even if you want to pretend to be a sourpuss."

"I'm not pretending," and being a good guy and a sourpuss weren't really mutually exclusive.

"Well, then you're just doing a really bad job of it." With her, anyway.

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