Disclaimer: Characters belong to their rightful owners (not me) I am not making any profit off this story.

Characters: Daken/Kitty Pryde/Assorted extras

Timeline: No strict timeline. Set after DW#82. Anyone can pop up anywhere.

Rating: Adult

Warnings: Anything can happen

Length: Multi

Archiving: Yes but please credit, paste the story in full including disclaimers and authors notes and please tell me where.

Authors Note: Please check my profile for news concerning my stories. I try to keep it updated as much as I can.

This, and any following chapters, have been posted unedited so I apologise for any errors, mistakes or contradictions. It will be edited in the future but I wanted to just get something up in the meantime. I also want to thank everybody who has read, reviewed and messaged me. I don't have a lot of time to get back to people but it is always appreciated. Thank for sticking with me :-) xx

Jackpot:

Chapter Ten

Daken throws her discarded clothes in the dryer and prepares some food while Katherine undoubtedly makes a mess of his bathroom.

The girl spends so long in the tub that Daken is half tempted to bust in and check that she hasn't drowned. It's only when he hears a disappointed sigh and the subtle splashing of water that he goes back to his original task; making chicken noodle soup and brewing up a pot of green tea.

A few moments later, Katherine appears from the bathroom, wrapped in an oversized bathrobe and towel drying wet hair. "Smells good." She nods at the pot on the stove.

He pours the soup between two bowls and takes a satisfying spoonful of his own. "Old family recipe." He gestures to the sofa and puts both bowls on the coffee table.

Katherine blows the steam off her bowl before taking a spoonful and her eyes flicker closed for a moment as the familiar warmth settles in her belly. Daken has all sorts of wicked thoughts whirling in his head as her tongue darts out and swipes over her lips appreciatively. "Tastes real good." she mumbles, half surprised.

Daken shrugs and they both eat in silence, watching city lights decorate the window glass.

"So, quantum physics?" Daken says as he finishes his last spoonful of soup and sets the bowl on the table.

Katherine braces for a moment, waiting for some sort of sarcastic punch line. When it doesn't come she shrugs. "I wanted to take computer science as a major but the class was full."

Daken has never been exceptionally talented when it comes to computers and science. He knows the basics and how to work them to his advantage but not to the degree that Katherine seems to operate at.

"I bet that comes in handy with your X Men."

Her guard goes up a little at the mention of her team. "It does."

He hides a smile. "What about the other stuff? The martial arts? What is that, Kung Fu?"

She stalls momentarily but between the tub and the soup, her antipathy has eased. "Ninjutsu."

He already knew that. "What form?"

Katherine's shoulders tense with each new question. "Ogun Ryu."

"Never heard of it."

She shrugs. "Its an old style."

"How old?"

"What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?" She laughs nervously. Daken raises an eyebrow in response and after a pause she answers. "Very."

Daken knows to leave it at that but he makes a note to find out as much information as he can. Katherine stifles a yawn. "Do you really hate Logan?" She asks, face turned to the window.

Daken wasn't expecting her question but it only takes him a second to answer. "Yes."

"Why?"

Now it is Daken's turn to brace for a verbal attack. "I told you why," he says firmly, tone brooking no further discussion on the matter.

Katherine stares at him for a moment and he knows his answer isn't good enough for her but after a pause, she nods and shuts the fuck up.

They both take a sip of tea. "I don't speak to my father anymore."

Daken sighs. "Why not?"

Katherine shrugs, like she is not even sure herself. "Because he's weak, because I cant trust him. Because he doesn't even feel like my father anymore. I think he gave that place up to somebody else,"

"Logan?"

Katherine's smile is wistful and almost sad. "No, somebody else and now he just feels like a stranger to me. I don't even hate him."

It quickly becomes clear to Daken that she is trying to lecture him in a roundabout way. It throws him slightly. He hates his father because he deserves to be hated and because it is fun to screw the old man over but if he really wanted to, Daken could easily wash his hands of the fool entirely and never think of him again.

"You think that in order to hate somebody, you must have some hidden yearning for them?" Part of Daken wants to drop this discussion so he can further his attempts to have Katherine drop her underwear for him but his sense of dignity and pride can't leave it with her having turned the tables on him. He won't allow it.

Katherine laugh. "God no. But I think people only hate people who have hurt them, and hurt mainly stems from disappointment."

"That is ridiculous," Daken replies unable to compel himself to keep his mouth shut.

Katherine rolls her eyes, that all knowing smile still plastered on her face. "Whatever."

"Very elegant and intelligent comeback," Daken snarls.

Her smile stretches and her eyes narrow, smug and mocking. Sarcastic little bitch.

Silence hangs between them. Daken folds his arms and glares at her while Katherine pointedly ignores him. She hums, watches the city lights, taps her fingers and that smug little smile never leaves her face. Eventually she turns to him, eyes finding his.

Daken holds himself still and taut. He breathes slowly and deeply through his anger. Katherine doesn't blink. Her mouth tightens into a line of grim determination. Daken holds his breath. He wonders if her eyes would be so dark up close; forehead to forehead, nose to nose.

After a good long minute, Katherine breaks and Daken feels a childish sense of triumph. She rolls her eyes as though she can sense his desire to gleefully rub it in her face. He should have put odds on it. The first to blink goes down on the other. She would have been blowing him right about now.

He tells her as much and she grimaces. "I guess that's my clue to leave." She pushes herself up to stand.

"Your clothes are still in the dryer," He tells her, spreading his arms across the back of the sofa with a satisfied sigh.

Katherine folds her arms. "And I suppose if I ask to borrow something of yours, you'll just fall over yourself to say yes?"

Daken smiles. "Nothing I have would fit you."

Biting back a reply, Katherine drops back into the chair and rubs a thumb over the space between her eyes. She rolls her neck out and attempts to smooth a knot from her shoulder with little success.

"I could do that for you," Daken offers.

He knows that she will say no and he knows that offering in the first place with a suggestive leer is the easiest way to raise her hackles. Katherine appears to know that too because she smiles, sickly sweet, and says "Would you? Thanks!"

For a moment, Daken doesn't move. He is far too focused on trying to interpret the catch. Katherine is more of a game player than people might imagine and with each interaction, a picture of her personality is starting to form in his mind. It is just a shame that picture is so wildly contradicting.

"Why are you staring at me?" She huffs before Daken has a chance to move.

"I'm just wondering what version of you this is."

Katherine's mouth twists in disbelief. "Version? What the hell are you talking about?"

She keeps her eyes on Daken as he moves to stand behind her. He settles his hands on her shoulders and she clutches the bathrobe closed as he pushes the fabric out of the way. "I'm wondering if this is who you really are, or who you think you should be. I have to admit, I find it hard to keep up sometimes."

"I bet you do," She sneers with a mean suggestiveness of her own.

He digs his thumbs deep into her trapezius, working knots and tension under the skin. Her muscles are toned but her skin still has some softness to it. She is still warm and her skin is still misty from bathing. After a few moments, she begins to relax and if she doesn't exactly moan, her breathing hitches when he hits a tender spot.

From Daken's vantage point, he can just make out the slope of her nose and the curve of her upper lip. Her lashes are set in a dark line so he knows that she has her eyes closed. Her hair is still wet; falling in loose curls that start at the crown. He is almost tempted to bury his nose in it.

Daken leans a little closer under the guise of working deeper tissue. Her hair smells like his lemon shampoo. His own little mark on her. Lust works through his groin.

"You're tight," He says, voice ending on a hitch.

Katherine mumbles her agreement. "Probably work stress," she jokes but Daken is in no mood to appease her sense of humour.

If she shares his desires, she makes no sign of it. It might as well be Logan or a gay best friend standing behind her. She settles into his touch and makes all the right noises but her reaction seems primarily clinical compared to his.

He works her shoulders about five minutes more than he has to and when he is finished, every bit of tension and knotted muscle is gone.

Katherine rolls her shoulders and smiles. "Thanks. You're good at that."

Daken shrugs and his eyes rove her body. "I'm good at a lot of things."

It earns him another eyes roll but this one doesn't hold much malice or annoyance behind it. "I'll take your word for it," she laughs.

"What time is it?" She asks, after a pause.

Daken looks at his watch, sure to turn the face to her so that she can see that he is rocking a flash new Rolex. "Just gone 3am."

"I should probably be going then," Katherine says as she retrieves her clothes from the dryer. She runs elegant fingers over the material to check for dampness and seems satisfied enough when she's done.

"And I suppose if I ask you to stay, you'll just fall over yourself to say yes?" Daken says.

Katherine grins as she recalls her words from before. "My cell is dead. Can I use your phone to call a cab?"

Daken gestures towards the telephone but he is determined not to let her go without making his final offer. "I could do things to you that you've never dreamt of before. "

She shakes her head with a smile. "Sounds creepy."

"I could show you the best night of your life." He counters.

"Well, I can't have much in store for me in life if a random hook-up with a virtual stranger is the best it gets." She throws back, still smiling.

He knows he is not going to win this one but he's having too much fun trying to give up now. "Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it. Whatever part of your body you want me to touch, to lick, to fuck...I'll do it. You haven't been laid until you've laid with me. I promise you that."

Underneath all her resolve and determination, Daken picks up on the tiniest flare of curiosity, and then her gaze shutters and her face settles into a mask of barely concealed disappointment.

"You did show me something tonight that I very rarely experience, " she says. Daken feels a sense of foreboding as she speaks. "You were there for me when I needed help. You distracted me from a miserable night. You tried to comfort me. I thought you might have done all that out the smallest bit of good that you might have had in you. Turns out, you're just like all the rest. Just trying to get laid.

Daken doesn't feel shame, even as she tries her very hardest to elicit that response from him. He has done and seen too many immoral, horrible things to ever feel shame at something so unimportant as this, but he can realise that this night is quickly taking a turn for the worst.

His first instinct is to retaliate; with insults, intimidation, whatever works. That is what Romulus would tell him to do. Use what he knows, pick out her flaws and fears, strip her down until the tables have turned on her.

He has discovered so many insecurities that he could use against her, but his instincts so far have only served to push her away and enhance her distrust of him. Instead, he decides to reverse tactics.

"I wanted to make you feel good, to make both of us feel good. " He says, picking up her jacket. He holds it open and she regards it for a moment like he's pointing a gun at her. "I'm sorry. I'll call you a cab. This is my number," He jots it down on a scrap of paper. "Make sure you call me so I know you got home safe."

Katherine wordlessly takes the paper as he ushers her out of his apartment, leaving her looking back at him with some sort of bewilderment. He knows that his turnabout has unsettled her and the knowledge highlights one glaring personality trait. Katherine is an instinctive creature. She is rarely used to being wrong about people, confident in her ability to work people out. She is a judgemental bitch who thinks she knows exactly what people want from her and Daken has just proved her wrong.

Now the shoe is on the other foot.

Now Daken has a game plan.

...