Who: Mystique (narrative, OT Nightcrawler for a response if he wants) What: A Christmas gift When: Christmas Morning Where: Kurt's Room
Mystique wasn't the maternal type. That might have been the understatement of the century. She also wasn't the religious type or the sentimental type.
So much had happened since she'd last talked to Kurt, and really that conversation had been brief and painful. She wondered if he even remembered it or if he'd been so far gone in his fever and illness from the Cure that he thought their brief meeting a hallucination.
All of that combined made what she was doing now so outside the realm of likelihood as to be laughable. In fact, she wasn't entirely sure Kurt would even believe that the gift was from her. She still wasn't sure what had prompted her to get him a gift in the first place. She couldn't even pretend she knew enough about him to even pick something thoughtful, but on her last trip, where she'd gone to Germany to do some digging on the group of scientists attempting to map the mutant genome, she'd thought about him quite a bit. About his life at the Monastery (which she'd paid a visit, shape changed to look like one of the brothers) and his life at the circus (which she'd also visited, this time just blending into the audience). It was at the Monastery where she'd heard the monks singing that she realized what an important part of his life music likely was. And how at Christmas, a high point in the life of the Catholic Church, he was quite possibly missing what had once been home all the more.
So she'd picked him up a CD of German Christmas music when she'd returned to the states and had leisure to shop. Thank God for the internet.
It wasn't hard to sneak into Haven. She'd lived there long enough to know how and where to get through their security. Child's play for someone like her.
The CD was wrapped and a small note was taped to the somewhat plain green wrapping paper.
Es ist nicht viel, aber ich dachte, Sie könnten es gleich genießen. Froehliche Weihnachten, Mama
The CD was left on his pillow. Mystique left through the window. Best to get out of there before someone asked what she was doing in Kurt's room. She didn't really feel like explaining her impulses to anyone, and what she remembered of Haven was that those in charge of security were a humorless lot.