The Universe's Mixer

"Do you need some help?" Piotr was smiling as he jogged up to the older couple who were looking at a rather large piano, a moving truck, and a broken ramp. He wondered why they didn't have somebody doing this professionally, but he was too polite to ask. They looked frustrated and tired.

"Oh, if you've got some friends that can assist, or a ramp..." The woman said, surprised.

"It just broke." The man followed it up. "Piece of crap. They said that it was brand new, obviously they lied. And they're not open today or something, at least they're not answering the phone."

"I am sorry for your troubles." Piotr was still smiling, knowing that he needed neither ramp nor friends. He noted that the man was holding his arm curiously. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"I don't know how serious it is." The man shook his head. "But yes, I did. Something with the shoulder."

"We should take care of that before dealing with the piano..." Piotr started.

"Oh, no. We can't just leave it here. It's too valuable." The woman interjected. "We're selling it to the opera house, it's an antique. What if it gets stolen? Or what if somebody takes the truck? Vandalism? Anything could happen to it here. Dinosaurs might run over it."

"Da." Piotr made a face, dejected. He knew quite well that dinosaurs might happen. He'd seen them. He wasn't sure what to do.

"What if he doesn't remember how to get here?" Beauty asked, leaving the table for the third time in the last 15 minutes and crossing over to the door. She opened it anxiously and stepped onto the porch, wholly missing what Megan said back to her. It was Friday night at 4:52, and their dates - plus Beauty's special guest and his date - had 8 minutes left to make it here on time. The others - Errol, Peter - she wasn't too worried about. They'd been to the cottage more times than Beauty could quickly count. But Piotr...

Piotr last visited years ago. Yes, it'd been the place she'd insisted he stay - despite the fact that her bed was apparently way too small for the overlarge Russian - but that didn't mean that he really did remember exactly how to get here. It was a long time ago, after all, and so many things had happened since then.

After pacing a bit on the porch, she went back inside and closed the door again.

"Tell me more about this bowling," she asked Megan, to try to distract herself.

It'd been a day since she'd gone to Charlie's to share her sadness with the man who had been her surrogate father's best friend. Charlie was also Beauty's friend, but not in the same way as Ted had been. She was glad to have someone to share her grief with, though, and her heart was not so heavy now that she had.

However, the restlessness that had been following her since her return to the City was still wrapped wholly around her. She continued to use vacation days from her job to stay away from the bookstore, finding time to see Errol when he wasn't at work. And for herself, she wandered the City, refamiliarizing herself with the places that were here for its citizens.

She had missed the City. She had missed her friend, she had missed so much about this place -- and she couldn't pin why she was so very unhappy. Sad, yes - grieving, even, for the loss of a good friend - but she didn't know what else was under the mess in her mind.

While she walked, while she tried to figure that out, a very large frame ahead of her caught her attention. He was a familiar shape - unmistakable, really - but it took her a moment to recall his name. It had been so very long, lifetimes ago it seemed, since she'd opened her home to the man who could not fit on a bed comfortably.

"Piotr?" she called ahead toward the man a few paces away. It was him. It was! Did he still remember her? Was this the same Piotr she'd given a place to stay while he was looking for his Kitty? "Piotr!!"

Exploring had been good. Piotr had looked for Beauty's house, but had not been able to find it, and he didn't quite know why. He hoped his kind friend was still in the City, he did wish to see her and thank her for her hospitality. He had run off to find Kitty and never returned. Not his choice, of course.

And this time he had his lovely Katya, and he could introduce the two of them.

They, him, Kitty, and Lockheed, had hit nearly every food cart and smaller food shop that they'd passed, as Piotr never felt quite full. At first he thought it was a matter of his eyes being bigger than his stomach, until he realized that he wasn't just craving things, he needed them. His body had been running on nearly empty for so long, being around all the food was a touch overwhelming.

But he was indulged, and between the stops they were seeing a lot.

He had taken her back to the apartment at the end of the day, their apartment. Their clean, nicely furnished, clean apartment. And then he'd ordered a pizza.

The aftermath of the pizza and beers were still on the coffee table. Piotr was stretched out on the couch, almost smothering it with his size.

"Katya... the pizza might have done me in."

Kitty had been running, or falling when she came to or became aware. She ran out to the middle of the street and came to a full stop to stare down a car. The car went right through her; funny that she was phased by the car and all the other cars than the car actually going through her. Items going through her weren't new or strange, but she hadn't expected a teeming city of after everything else. It was almost overwhelming, and X-men didn't get overwhelmed not by city life. She took a deep breath, ignoring the sounds of drivers who were becoming just a little frustrated that the woman wouldn't move.

"Okay, okay, I'm moving." She was more than an X-man. "Really, Kitty? Getting upset by a car?" Someone she loved running through her should have been far more upsetting. It had had a very similar reaction in the stop and stare. The resulting reaction to the stop and stare though had not been the same: one made her heart leap with a hint of pain and confusion, the current was just confusion.

She buried her hands in her pockets, and once she was safely on the sidewalk, she pulled out the contents of said pockets. Rubber band, a ten dollar bill, and a key. And a dog biscuit. She mentally called out for Lockheed, not that she thought he heard her words, but they were connected enough that he seemed to know where she was and that she needed him. The city felt familiar, and his absence, if he was really absent, felt familiar in it.

"Right. So let's get a coffee and find out what exactly is going on. And, possibly stop talking to ourselves in the process." She nodded and started toward the coffee shop not far away. She had a plan of action, and she hoped that at least one of her loves from that broken place was here - wherever here was.