#with a very timely late summer early fall camping trip fic slkdfjldsfjdlskfj

[master-sass-blast]

S'mores for Two.

Happy New Year, everybody!

Summary: The students at Xavier's get shipped out for an educational, late-Summer/early-Autumn weekend camping trip! You and Piotr go along to help supervise. Shenanigans ensue.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Ellie Phimister x Yukio, and Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin.

Rating: T for mild spice and Wade being Wade.

Word count: 5.8k.

Set after "Base Chemical Desire."

Your knee bounces up and down as the SUV rumbles over yet another pothole. “Good fucking God, can we please just be at the cabin already?”

“Mne zhal, myshka,” your husband apologizes. He steers the car around another bump in the road, then turns when a brown wooden sign with yellow letters indicates the cabins are to the left. “We should be there any minute now.”

You cross your legs harder and do your best not to squirm. “Not any minute soon enough. Baby’s using my bladder as a beanbag chair.”

Piotr croons sympathetically, then drives the car around another bend bracketed by dense thickets of trees and ground cover—

And then, mercifully, the cabin comes into view.

“Oh thank fuck.” You undo your seatbelt as your husband parks in front of the cabin –the car’s going slow enough that there’s no safety risk—then shove your door open before he even has the keys out of the ignition. Nearly pissed my fucking pants, holy shit—

“Good morning, campers!”

You grit your teeth when your beloved brother in spirit slings an arm around your shoulders –thus preventing you from reaching the porcelain nepenthe. “Wade—”

The merc with a mouth, however, is blissfully unaware of your bladder’s plight. He inhales deeply, the eyes on his mask widening before going back to normal size. “Ah, nature. Gotta love the smell of squirrel shit in the morning!”

Ellie grimaces as she gets out of the van ferrying most of the teens; the Institute’s high school class and a few chaperones had trekked out to upstate New York campgrounds for a long weekend school retreat in early September. “Don’t be gross, Douchepool.”

“Excuse me, Negasonic Knuckles; gross is what I do best! That, and milking my pro—”

Your husband’s car door slams with unnecessary force. “Wade.”

You growl, then shove Wade’s arm off you. “Wade—”

“What, no love for lil ol’ me?”

“I do love you, but if you don’t get out of my way, I am going to piss in your sleeping bag. Possibly within the next two minutes.”

Wade hops to the side and gestures to the cabin door with a flourish. “By all means, madam and passenger.”

Piotr takes the steps to the front porch two at a time, keys already in hand. “Hang on, myshka. Just one moment.”

…

You do, miraculously, make it to the bathroom in time.

You let out a guttural sigh of relief as you exit the commode (having flushed and washed your hands, of course), rubbing one hand over your swollen belly. “That’s so much fucking better.”

“Language, dorogoy.”

“You try staying sane when you have a lil’ flesh bell pepper sitting on your bladder,” you grumble.

Piotr chuckles, good-natured, then holds one arm out to you. He holds you against his chest, rubbing your back soothingly when you lean against him. “I know. You are doing so well, moya lyubov’. I am so proud of you.”

You press your face against his chest. A lump rises in your throat, and you find yourself blinking back tears. “Thank you.”

“You are so strong.” He kisses the top of your head. “So incredible.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, Piotr,” you say with a soft, watery laugh. You pat his chest when he chuckles with you, then tip your head back and pucker your lips for a kiss. “Love you.”

He dips his head and presses his lips against yours. “Ya tebya lyublyu.” He breaks the kiss, lifting his head when he hears some squabbling outside, then sighs and pats your back. “Come on. We should supervise young ones.”

…

The squabbling, it turns out, is Kitty and Ellie arguing over how to arrange the tents.

“You need to place them on elevated ground!” Ellie snaps, nose scrunched up with ire. “That way if it rains, we don’t get a massive-ass puddle underneath the tents!”

“Yeah, except your spot is, like, way too close to the road!” Kitty huffs, putting her hands on her hips. “Some pervert could hide in the bushes and watch us sleep! Or a drunk could lose control of his car and drive right through us!”

Russell glances between the two teens, then over at Piotr and you with a pinched expression. “People aren’t going to hide in the bushes to watch us, right?”

Nikolai –who came along to help with food and chaperoning—answers before his son can. He chuckles, pointing to his wife with his thumb. “I think Alexandra has us covered.”

Alex looks up as she sets a massive, matte black duffel bag on the ground (which rattles suspiciously, as though she has an entire armory of guns and ammunition inside). She looks to her husband, then to Russell, then shrugs. “I have security covered.” She drops another duffel bag onto the ground (this one lands with a soft whump), then gestures to her three dogs. “Noise alert system.” She stops to bring Misty –her young, excitable, gray and white Pitbull—to heel, then nudges the suspicious duffle bag with the toe of her boot. “Pervert removal devices—”

Piotr sighs. “Mama.”

She chatters at him in Russian, then reaches into the van for another bag and withdraws a bag of mini-marshmallows and a plastic air-powered rifle. “…And incentivizing for stubborn teenagers.”

Nikolai chuckles, shaking his head, then carries a cooler into the cabin.

“Since when,” Kitty pipes up, now distracted from her argument with Ellie, “do any of us need incentivizing?”

Alex shrugs, smirking in good humor. “Many possibilities. Perhaps getting out of bed in the morning.” She pauses to scoop up her tawny Chihuahua, Butters, into her arm, then grabs both her duffel bags and strides towards the cabin.

You chuckle at Kitty’s –as well as the other teens’—disgruntled expressions, then grab a few pillows and carry them into the cabin as well.

…

The tents wind up going between Ellie and Kitty’s suggested spots.

“Alright –enough!” Alex strides over, snatches the tent back up when the two teens get into a tug of war over it, then gives each of them a stern look. “We compromise –halfway between each spot. The incline is still sufficient to prevent flooding, but it’s also a safe distance away from the road. Khorosho?” She nods when both girls mutter their assent, then sets the tent bag in the newly selected spot. “Let’s get to work.”

…

Setting up tents with a group of teenagers that’ve been cooped up in vans for a couple hours and Wade is, shall we say, not an easy task.

Fortunately, due to your “carry on,” you are excused from all menial labor tasks you don’t want to partake in and thus dub yourself “Supreme Supervisor,” set up a camp chair near the cabin, and watch the chaos unfold.

In a testament to Alex and Piotr’s chaos-wrangling skills, though; The cluster of tents –two for the boys, two for the girls—are almost completely erected in under an hour.

“I didn’t know tents came in giant size,” Wade remarks as he steps back to admire the tent –which, since it can hold twelve people, is truly gargantuan. “Guess we gotta go big for the ol’ Ruskie, eh?”

“The big man gets to stay in the cabin,” you pipe up from your throne. “As the official foot massager.” You wink at Piotr when he smirks and shakes his head, then continue. “The tents are big to fit multiple people, and so everyone can stand up inside.”

“Colossus would, like, still probably have to duck,” Kitty comments as she carries her duffels into one of the girls’ tents. She sticks her head out the front flap moments later. “Can I inflate my air mattress in the cabin?”

“‘Air mattress?’” Ellie squawks, nose scrunched up in indignation. “You hauled an air mattress and a pump all the way out here?”

“It has a built-in motor. I just need to plug it in,” Kitty fires back, sticking her tongue out when Ellie rolls her eyes. “I’m not sleeping on the ground! It’s bad for your back!”

“Yeah, that’s why you use a bed roll, Princess.”

Kitty tosses her hair with a huff. “Or an air mattress, purist.”

“What, so the rest of us have to walk around your bulky inflatable bed just to take a midnight shit—”

“I can take a corner so I’m out of the way, you fucking gatekeeper—”

“Language, both of you,” Piotr interjects, “and enough.” He fixes them both with a stern look, hands on his hips, then resumes speaking when both girls mutter their apologies for arguing. “Kitty, you may inflate your mattress inside, but please be considerate when choosing spot in tent. Other campers need space as well.”

“Naturally,” she says as she hauls the carry bag for her air mattress out of the tent. “I was already going to do that.”

Ellie rolls her eyes again. “High maintenance.”

Kitty sticks her tongue out at the younger girl. “Asshole.”

“I think Mr. Rasputin already said ‘enough,’” you pipe up. You cross your arms over your chest and fix both girls with a steely stare. “Any more of this, and you two are on permanent kitchen duty. Understand?”

The two girls deflate slightly and mutter, “Yes, Mrs. Rasputin,” in unison.

“Glad to hear it.” You watch as Kitty heads inside whilst Ellie steps in to help Alex get the last tent up –they have to work with Wade, so it’s anyone’s game as to who will “win”—then wince as the slowly setting sun slips through the tree canopies and hits you directly in the eyes. And here I was hoping to keep my retinas in pristine condition. You shade your eyes with your hand, then look around for your sunglasses. I just had them in my hand, where the fuck did they –ah.

They’re on the ground next to your chair. They must’ve fallen out of the little built in cup holder on the chair’s arm.

You contemplate leaning over to pick them up –then grin when a better option occurs to you. “Hey, baby? Can you get my sunglasses for me?”

“Konechno.” Piotr steps around from the back of a tent –he’d decided to handle hammering in the stakes since most of the boys had started tossing around the mallet like a football—then stops and frowns when he spies your spectacles next to your chair. “Myshka –they are right there.”

You grin impishly when he points to the spot next to your chair. “I know. Can you grab them for me?”

Piotr tucks his tongue in his cheek. A slow smile tugs at his lips. “They are right next to you.”

“I can’t pick them up.”

“You cannot pick them up?”

“They’re too heavy.” You giggle when Piotr rolls his eyes –good natured, of course—then gesture to the sunglasses helplessly. “Please?”

He grins, shakes his head, then ambles over to your chair. He grunts slightly as he stoops to pick up your glasses, then brushes them off before carefully placing them on your face. “Better?”

“Immensely.” You angle your head up for a kiss, humming happily when your husband presses his lips against yours. “Thank you.”

“Konechno –anytime, myshka.”

You waggle your eyebrows at the sarcasm in his tone, then giggle when he grins and shakes his head again.

…

Dinner is not hotdogs roasted over a campfire –much to many of the campers’ disappointment.

“Is not good to have hotdogs every night,” Piotr reasons when the teens protest. “Balanced diet is best.”

“Says you,” Wade fires back, ever the one to stir up chaos. “I happen to know that the intestinal tract can take about four straight days of wieners before a major revolt.”

Your husband sighs, longsuffering. “Wade—”

“And I didn’t even necessarily eat all of them to find that out.”

“Wade.”

Nathan puts an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders when the teens start laughing –or, in some cases, groaning. “Easy, gorgeous.”

So, no, dinner is not hotdogs; Nikolai oversees it, and has the teens make foil pouches filled with potato chunks, diced vegetables, and pieces of ham steak (already cooked, of course, though Kitty uses baked chicken), then place the pouches around the campfire as an experiment on cooking with indirect heat.

You get a similar meal –but prepared in the kitchen in the cabin, due to Piotr’s concern about everything being cooked thoroughly for you.

Hey, you’re not complaining. You get to lounge by the fire while your husband makes you dinner. What’s not to love!

You tip your head back to kiss his cheek when he brings you your plate. “Thank you, honey.”

You do, however, partake in making smores with everyone else. Perhaps a bit too… vigorously.

“Myshka,” Piotr says when you break a graham cracker for your fourth s’more. “Do not make yourself sick, please.”

“Hey!” You protest as you place a piece of chocolate onto one graham cracker. “I’m eating for two! That means I gotta multiply everything by two. So, if a normal serving of s’mores is two, then I need to eat four.”

Piotr shakes his head while everyone else chuckles. “I do not think that is how this works, dorogoy.”

“Sure it is. Two times two is four.” You grin when everyone laughs again. “I did pass elementary math, Piotr.”

Your husband sighs, shakes his head –then snatches the marshmallow bag out of your lap once you bite into your fourth smore.

You squawk around a mouthful of marshmallow goop, melted chocolate, and crumbling graham cracker. “Hey!”

He hands the bag off to the nearest student. “Keep this away from Mrs. Rasputin, please.”

“What is this mutiny?” You give your husband a stink eye –though it’s worth the loss of marshmallows, what with how the students are delighted to partake in your husband’s usurpation—then jab him in the shoulder with your index finger. “Just for that, buster, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

…

The following morning goes as such: wake up at eight, breakfast (which is overseen by Nikolai again), then getting dressed and cleaned up before going on a hike for the purpose of plant identification, observing flora and fauna in their natural habitat, and ending at a field for a nature-scape drawing session with Piotr.

You don’t get to go on the hike, per Doctor Reid’s suggestion to reduce the strain on your body during your pregnancy. You hang back at the cabin with Nikolai and Alex, basking in the sun and enjoying the tranquility of the wilderness around you.

“Ah, there you are, ptitsa.”

You look up with a smile as your mother-in-law joins you on the cabin’s porch. “Hey. How was sleeping in the tent?”

Alex shrugs as she leans against the porch railing. “Fine. Girls were a bit wound up before bed, but they settled well enough.”

“No further fighting between Ellie and Kitty?”

“Hm.” Alex smirks and lifts one eyebrow. “Storm and I decided it would be best to separate them into different tents. Prevent further disagreements.”

“Ah.” You nod in agreement. “Probably for the best.”

“Do they usually fight like this?”

“Usually, yes,” you say, laughing slightly. “They’re two very different fish in the same pond –not to mention they’re both teenage girls.”

She chuckles and shrugs, then nods to you. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” you answer honestly. “A bit tired.”

“Eh, comes with territory. Have they started moving yet?”

“Not yet.” You rub your swollen stomach with one hand, smiling fondly. “Dr. Reid thinks it’ll be a few weeks before I feel any movement, since this is my first viable pregnancy.”

Alex nods along. “That’s usually the case.” She smiles faintly, gaze going distant with nostalgic reflection. “Second babies, not so much. Mikhail started moving four months in.”

“Wow,” you chuckle. “So it’s been like that from the very start with him, huh.”

She grins. “That it has.”

The two of you laugh, then lapse into comfortable silence –save for the sounds of the woods around you—after a few moments.

You keep rubbing your belly, drifting further away into rumination.

It’s almost hard to believe you’re going to be a parent in a few months. After all the trying and failing, it’s like a dream come true. After your childhood, after how hard you had to work to recover from everything your parents did to you…

Alex narrows her eyes when she notices the tension in your face. “Something wrong?”

“Just… thinking about my parents,” you answer distractedly. Without thinking about it, you curl both your arms around your stomach. They’ll never hurt you. They’ll never even touch you. I promise.

As though she can sense your thoughts, Alex sighs and takes a seat next to you on the porch swing. “They’ll never get close to your children,” she assures you. “Or you. Never again.” She puts one arm around you and rubs your shoulder when you lean against her. “There’s an entire army of people who’ll see to that.”

“I know,” you murmur, “but I still fucking hate them.”

“And that’s normal,” Alex replies without hesitation. “It’s even okay. They were terrible people.”

You nod, lips pressed together in a tight line. “I still worry that I’m gonna hurt my kids the way they hurt me.”

Alex shakes her head automatically. “You won’t.”

You tilt your head up so you can see her face. “You sound so certain.”

“Because I am.” She exhales roughly when you grimace, and the hand not on your shoulder starts fiddling with one of the pockets on her black cargo pants. “Compare you and I. We both went through our versions of hell and came out of it. I raised my children, you are about to start your journey with yours.” She pauses, jaw working as she chooses her words. “I did fuck up my children. I didn’t mean to, but… I had very little help –at least in the way that would’ve prevented so much damage.” She purses her lips, then looks down at you and shrugs. “You have knowledge ahead of time. You have already done so much work to get better. You will not be perfect, but you will not remotely fuck your baby up like your parents did with you.”

You draw in a shaky breath, then nod. “Okay. Yeah. Thank you.”

Alex squeezes your shoulder gently—

The front door swings open, and Nikolai steps out onto the porch. He smiles when he sees you and Alex sitting together, but it fades when he notices the pinched expression on both your faces. “Vse v poryadke?”

Alex replies in Russian –you catch a bit about her reassuring you, but the rest goes over her head—then offer your father-in-law a melancholy smile and shrug when he looks over at you. “Just… thinking about my parents.”

Nikolai tuts and shakes his head. “All will be fine.”

“I know,” you say as you rub your stomach with one hand, “but that doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“Is normal,” Nikolai agrees with a nod of his head. “But you have good support community. Good family. Good therapy.” He smiles reassuringly. “Everything will be okay.”

Alex hums, nodding along, then pats your shoulder before turning her attention back to her husband. “Tebe chto nibud' nuzhno?”

“Ah.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder towards the cabin’s interior. “I could use help making lunch for students.”

“Sure thing.” You stand –which is a little tricky with the angle of the porch swing and your pregnant belly, but you manage—then pump one fist in the air as you head inside. “Let’s go –Davayte idti!”

Alex chuckles as she follows after you. “Davayte idti, ptitsa.”

…

The clearing the group settled in is nothing short of picturesque. Trees surround the grassy knoll on three sides, while the fourth side is open and stretches out into an endless, rolling meadow. Wildflowers dot the long grass, attracting butterflies, bees, and other pollinators in search of a snack.

The top of the grassy hill –which is closest to the road you, Alex, and Nick take to bring lunch over for everyone—has a few picnic tables set up for hikers and other campers. Currently, the students are clustered around the tables with the other chaperones, working on their landscapes while Piotr instructs and assists them in turn.

You can’t help but to take a moment and admire your husband as he advises a student on how to shade in his trees. If I wasn’t already pregnant, this might just do it.

“Food truck’s here!” Wade announces, bouncing up from his seat at the sight of a welcome distraction. “Do you think they have tacos?”

“Sandwiches today,” Nikolai chuckles. He opens the rear hatch on the van, then eyes the multiple bags of food before looking over at the students. “Perhaps… would be best for students to come to food.”

“Vy pravy.” Piotr sets his sketchbook down on the table, then tucks his pencils and eraser back into his pencil bag before zipping it shut. “Alright, let’s break for lunch.”

The van’s quickly surrounded by a gaggle of hungry teenagers –a dangerous force to reckon with under the best of circumstances.

“Easy –one at a time, please,” Nikolai says as Alex nudges the kids into some semblance of a line. “Ah! Katya.” He grabs a bag marked with a drawing of a cat when Kitty reaches the front of the line, then hands it to her. “Rye bread, no dairy.”

Kitty takes her sandwich with a grin. “Spasibo!”

Once the students are settled with their food, you grab a bag for you and Piotr, then head over to the picnic benches and sit down next to him. “Care for company?”

“With you? Always.” He puts one arm around your shoulders, kisses the top of your head, then accepts the bag you hold out to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” You unwrap your sandwich –cold cuts, cheese, and other fixings—and take a bite while you admire the scenery. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Piotr nods as he crunches down on a carrot stick. “Very peaceful. Bezmyatezhnyy.”

You take another bite of your sandwich, then sigh wistfully. “Y’know,” you reflect once your mouth is clear, “I wish I’d thought to bring my sketchbook. I could stand to draw outside my comfort zone, and this area is perfect for drawing.”

“How about this?” Piotr offers. “After you eat, you can borrow my sketchbook.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

It’s Piotr’s turn to raise one eyebrow at you. Then, he smiles softly and shakes his head. “Myshka, you will not ruin it.”

You smile back, then lean over and kiss his cheek. “Alright. Thanks, honey.”

…

“—Jupiter will be visible just above the tail of Capricornus, whereas Saturn will be positioned in the larger triangle—”

You tip your head back, gazing up at the night sky while Ororo guides the students on how to find visible planets in the night sky.

It’s gorgeous. The lack of city lights means that the Milky Way band is visible. The inky night sky’s glittering with billions of stars, more than you’ve ever seen. Combined with how fresh the air smells and the orchestra of crickets and bullfrogs in the woods, and it’s almost like something taken straight from a fairytale.

The students are peering through binoculars and telescopes, filling out lab reports on celestial bodies via flashlight in between periods of studying the sky.

You, however, are content to admire without magnification –and to not fill out required homework. Graduating has its perks. You smirk at your own wit, then look up when a familiar, heavy hand lands on your shoulder. “Hey.”

“Privet.” Piotr smiles down at you, then presses the back of his hand against your arm. “Are you warm enough?”

You roll your eyes fondly, then pat his side reassuringly. “I’m fine, Piotr.”

“There is cool breeze tonight; we will be stargazing for another hour, at least. I do not want you—”

“I’m fine.” You smile reassuringly at him, then lean against his chest when he acquiesces and puts his arms around your shoulders. “Besides, if I get cold, I’ve got you to warm me up.”

He chuckles and squeezes you gently. “If you get cold, I have jacket for you in car.”

“That, too.” You smile up at him, adoring, then roll up on the balls of your feet to kiss his jaw. “Love you.”

He returns a kiss against your temple. “Ya tebya lyublyu, myshka.”

…

There’s a lake a couple of miles from the cabin and other campsites. It’s remote, used mostly by campers and locals for fishing, kayaking, and swimming. The basin itself is surrounded by trees on all sides, and edged by gravelly beaches.

Despite not being a major body of water, it’s also monitored by the local park ranger association for bacteria and poisonous algae counts –which is what you tell Piotr when he fusses about you going for a swim.

“Dr. Reid said that swimming is the best form of exercise for me,” you remind him on the drive to the trail that leads to the beach. “And it’s not like I’m going for an Olympic record here, sweetheart. I just want to cool off; it’s been muggy as hell the past few weeks.”

“Contaminated waters could pose infection risk—”

“For all of us, Piotr.” You shoot him a stern look as he pulls into an open parking space. “I checked with the ranger’s office before we headed out. They test the waters four days a week during the on season –which so happens to be right now.” You arch one eyebrow when he pulls the keys out of the ignition with a sigh. “Look, I love you, but it’s hot as hell and I’m carrying your baby. You can try to keep me from swimming over your dead body, capiche?”

Piotr grimaces, but capitulates. “Khorosho. But at least wait until students are done with school work? Makes things easier for teachers.”

“That,” you say as you lean across the center console to kiss his cheek, “I can do.”

…

The lake, predictably, is heavenly.

You do wait for the teachers –Logan and Ororo this time around—to walk the students through their morning work. There’s a lesson on the natural fauna and flora found in and around the surrounding habitat, an exercise on identifying rocks on the lakeshore with the help of a geological guidebook (all rocks are returned to their natural environment to prevent erosion, naturally), and another art lesson with Piotr before the students are released for swimming and suitable shenanigans.

You wade in up to your hips, sighing with relief as the cool waters help relieve the sun’s unrelenting scorch. You duck under the lake’s surface briefly, resurfacing seconds after to wipe water away from your eyes.

Most of the students are already in the water –Russell’s hanging back on the shore with Wade and Nate, and Kitty’s chilling on a towel under a sun umbrella.

You nod to yourself, satisfied that the students are doing well, then go back to wading around.

A few minutes later, there’s a loud splashing sound. When you look over, you see Piotr striding into the lake. He pauses for a few moments to send a few splashes towards the more rambunctious students, then resumes his stride and heads towards you.

“I’m fine,” you say once he’s within a few feet of you. “I’m pretty sure flying precludes drowning.”

Piotr opens his mouth, considers, then closes it and holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “I thought water looked nice. Wanted to spend time with my wife.”

“Well,” you muse as you wrap your arms around his waist, “I suppose I can permit that.”

“Spasibo, myshka.” He puts one arm around you in return and admires you for a moment before asking, “Did you apply sunscreen?”

“Ten minutes before wading out here. You can relax, Piotr.” You pat his chest –which is delightfully bare, and if you were alone right now, you’d be trying to coax him into something suitably inappropriate for the students to watch (no pregnancy hormones required, though they certainly don’t hurt). “I’m not going to fall apart just because I’m pregnant.”

“Ya znayu,” he concedes. “I want to take care of you, is all.”

You soften –because how can you not with a line like that and the earnest expression on his face. “Well, thank you. You’re doing a great job of it.” You smile when he kisses the top of your head, then wade in further. “I think I’m going to go a little deeper—”

“Myshka.”

“Relax.” You stop once the water passes over your stomach, so it’s just below your chest, and let out a relieved groan. “I just wanted to take some of the weight off my back.”

He hums, understanding, then steps behind you without further argument. He squats down a little, then hooks his arms under your shoulders and takes the rest of your weight so you can just float.

You sigh, relief coursing through your aching back and hips. You tip your head back against his shoulder and let your eyes slide shut. “Spasibo.”

“Pozhaluysta, myshka.”

…

After a break for lunch, the chaperones elect to suspend the rest of the lessons for the day so the students can swim –a concession to the writhing afternoon heat.

You and Piotr, however, head back to the cabin; your husband, in all his mother hen nature, doesn’t want you overheating or getting worn out.

This time, you’re happy to acquiesce –mostly because you’ve got something else on your mind.

“We should shower,” Piotr says as he ushers you into the blissfully air-conditioned interior of the cabin. “Best to clean lake water off skin.”

“Mhm,” you purr as you look your husband up and down; his swim trunks and cover up shirt are still damp, and they cling to his broad, muscular body in the most delightful ways. “We really should.”

Piotr catches the glint in your eyes and stops in his tracks. A slow, knowing grin spreads across his face. “I take it,” he murmurs as he puts his hands on your hips, “you have… ideas.”

“Oh, plenty of them.” You smirk when he tugs you closer, then trace the tip of your index finger over his chest. “And since the kids will be swimming for the next couple of hours, we have time to explore all of them.”

He sputters slightly, laughing. He shakes his head, then lowers his head to whisper in your ear. “This is not time for sex marathon, myshka.”

“On the contrary.” You slide your hands around his waist and squeeze his ass, grinning when he growls and pulls you flush against him. “I have the utmost faith in your stamina, love.” You kiss his jaw, then grab his hands and tug him towards the bathroom.

Piotr follows without hesitation.

…

The final day is slotted only for fun activities –competitive games, more swimming, and a bonfire in the evening for a hotdog and s'mores dinner.

“Alright, next up is the wooden skis challenge!” you announce as the teens catch their breath from a relay race around the cabin. “Teams of three; Mr. Summers and Mr. Wilson will help you get the skis on correctly,” you explain, gesturing to long, narrow wooden boards with three foot stirrups attached to each. “The race is from the cabin porch to the oak tree over there,” you continue, pointing to the tree –which is about twenty feet away—in question. “First team there wins some special chocolate for tonight’s bonfire.”

Kitty raises one hand. “What if, like, we just want to eat it?”

“You’ll have to divvy it out with your teammates,” you chuckle, “but, yes, you can eat your share beforehand.”

The teens waste no time in deciding on teams –and, in a surprise move that has all the adults raising their eyebrows at one another, Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty all team up together.

Here’s hoping this doesn’t end in a screaming match. You wait until the teams are all set and positioned in their skis by the porch. “Alright. Three… two… one… go!”

It’s hardly like a day at the races –unless one was racing turtles instead of horses. All of the teams lurch in place, sputtering, stumbling, and swearing in a few cases as they try to figure out how to get momentum going.

“Okay –there we go. Just like that!”

You watch, equal parts awestruck and impressed, as Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty start inching forward.

They’ve clearly got a strategy figured out. They’re standing shortest to tallest –Yukio in front, Kitty in the back—so everyone can see what’s in front of them. They’re holding onto the shoulders of the person in front of them, and Yukio has her arms outstretched as well for balance.

“We all need to lift at the same time,” Yukio says when they get stuck again.

“Left, then right,” Ellie decides. “Let’s go! Left… right… left… right…”

Slowly but surely, their team starts pulling out ahead of the others.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Ororo murmurs to you as she watches the girls with a smile.

You chuckle and nod. “Who says miracles aren’t real.”

“Left! Right!” the girls chant in unison as they pick up speed.

“I think we’re coming up on that tree stump,” Kitty announces, craning her neck to one side to see ahead of them. “We’d probably be better off going around.”

“We could sidestep,” Yukio suggests. “One step to the left should give us enough clearance.”

“We need to move forward a few more feet so we’re past the ditch,” Ellie points out. She keeps a careful eye on the ground, then nods. “Okay –left side first!”

Alex sidles up next to you and Ororo, smirking. “They’re communicating better than some military operations I’ve taken part in.”

“Hey, don’t you know girls run the world?” you fire back, grinning.

Unsurprisingly, given their stellar performance, Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty win. They all cheer when they reach the oak tree miles ahead of the other team, then quickly work their feet loose from the stirrups so they can all hug each other.

“Congratulations!” You applaud along with the other adults. “Very nicely done.”

The girls tear into the first prize basket –which is just an assortment of various chocolate goodies—like a flock of vultures picking over carrion for the best bits.

“Can I have the dark chocolate?” Kitty asks as she sorts through the various treats. “Those have the best shot of being pareve.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Ellie and Yukio answer before sorting any of the dark chocolate options out of their choices.

You smile and lean against your husband as he walks up behind you and puts his arms around your shoulders. “It’s one of nature’s miracles.”

Piotr chuckles. “Perhaps.”

“You think there’s another explanation?” you ask teasingly, tipping your head back so he can see his face.

He shrugs with a smile. “Victory is great motivator.” He nods to the three girls, who are also divvying out a few pieces to the other students in the spirit of good sportsmanship. “And so is chocolate.”

You laugh, then pat his arm as you go back to watching the teens haggle over candy. “Can’t argue with that.”