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JUST LUCKY, I GUESS 4/?
He was not having a good day. It was all he could do to maintain
his composure when Siryn had given him the news, but from the look she
gave him he knew she suspected something anyway. His head *still*
throbbed mercilessly, and to top it all off, his team had performed like
rank amateurs. The debriefing had seemed endless, and he knew from the
expressions on their faces as they stormed out of the room that they now
felt almost as miserable as he. He couldn't decide whether that made him
feel better or worse, and finally just decided that he didn't care either
way. To phrase it succintly, he was in a royal snit.
After the debriefing, the team retired to their wing to shower and
change into civilian clothing. One by one, they drifted down to the
kitchen for lunch. Though the mansion boasted a large kitchen with
advanced culinary technology, the younger members of X-Force, as a rule
used an older, smaller kitchen closer to their wing. They found that they
prefered the privacy it offered, and had outfitted it with everything they
needed. James was the first to arrive, and had his lunch almost ready by
the time the others straggled in.
Theresa walked through the door a few minutes later, lost in
thought. Now dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, she walked over to the
table and pulled up a chair. She sat quietly for a few moments,
considering her early morning conversation with Domino. Before he could
speak, she turned her head, tilting it slightly. "Tabitha," she decided,
and he nodded. One of the side effects of her mutation was extremely
sensitive hearing, a gift he shared. She looked at him, really noticing
him for the first time. She thought about what had happened this morning
with Cable and Domino and its parallels with her relationship with this
man. 'I don't want us to turn out like that.'
"Jimmy- we need to talk." He opened the door of the stove and
looked in, checking the progress ofhis meal.
"About what?" His voice was carefully neutral, and she
winced at the lack of emotion in it.
"Ye know damn well about what. We've...*I've*...been putting
it off long enough. We need to talk about what happened last month,
with Risque" he grimaced, but she went on "About a lot of things."
He narrowed his eyes and stood, arms akimbo, staring at her.
"Theresa- this has no impact on the team. I have no desire to rehash this
thing again just so you can keep accurate logs."
She stood up slowly, face flushed. "Jimmy. That isn't why I want
to talk to ye, and ye know it." He raised an eyebrow, and she whispered
"Or ye ought to."
His face softened slightly, and he motioned towards the door.
"Tabitha's coming," he quirked a small smile. "Let's talk about this
later. Maybe over dinner?" He raised a warning hand "But no shopping this
time." He looked at her. "But you're buying."
She grinned widely. "You've got a deal." She walked to one of the
refrigerators, and continued in a much more conversational tone "And what
do ye think about this mornin'?"
She heard a loud "POP" from the door way, and turned around.
Tabitha leaned against the doorframe, vigorously chewing a wad of gum.
"I'll tell ya what *I* think about it. It's total crap, is what I think
about it."
Rictor and Sunspot walked in. "I agree completely. He treated us
like idiots!" Bobby was literally steaming.
Rictor held up a hand "As much as I hate to give the man any
credit at all, he was right about one thing. We did suck today, big time."
Bobby nodded. "Yeah, I know, but even so we didn't deserve
all that! Even Domino wouldn't have reamed us out that bad!"
Tabitha crouched in front of another refrigerator, pawing through
the crisper. Grabbing a head of lettuce, she asked in a seemingly casual
manner. "Speaking of which, I wonder why she didn't come in today. The
only time she misses is when she's out on a mission."
James shrugged. "Dunno. I don't blame her...I wish I hadn't come
today, too." He removed a pan from the stove, and sat it down on a burner.
"Good question, though, Tab. It must be something serious for her to not
be here-"
Theresa took some cold cuts and began making a sandwich. "Ah, I'm
sure she's fine. Everybody needs a day off every now and then- and ye
gotta admit, she's been workin' too much lately, even for her."
Bobby sat down "Even an old warhorse like her needs a day off, I
guess. From the way Cable's been acting today, though, I wish *he'd* been
the one who played hooky- Hey!" His voice took on a curious note "I wonder
where somebody like Domino would go to relax." He waggled his eyebrows in
a light-hearted leer. "And who with."
The team's resident gossip-monger, Tabitha, jumped in.
"Yeah, that's just what I was thinkin'. She loves all this cloak and
dagger crap too much to just not come in, and you know she doesn't get
sick. She's gotta be with somebody. Why else would she skip
work? You know," Her voice turned conspiratorial "She left the mansion all
dressed up last night, and she didn't come home- and now she's calling in?
Something's up. She's got some going on the side. No wonder Cable's
been so grumpy-" Her voice trailed off as she realized that her
observation may have held a kernel of truth.
Bobby shook his head, protesting. "I was just joking, Tab. She's
not doing anything like that- this is *Domino* we're talking about. She
doesn't think about anything but guns and bossing us around."
Theresa looked up from her sandwich. "What a monumentally stupid
thing to say, 'Berto. Of course she thinks about more than that- she just
wants people to think that's all she's about. In fact-" She broke off
sharply, the took another bite of her sandwich, still glowering at Bobby.
Tabitha smelled blood. She stuck a fork in her salad, then said in
a wheedling tone "Alright, then, Irish, you tell us what the deal is. You're
the one she called- tell us what she said."
Theresa sighed. "Tabitha- she didn't say anything- just to tell
Cable she wasn't coming in and for us not to worry about her."
Tabitha snorted. "Uh-huh. What else?"
"That's all! She just said that she had plans and for us to go
ahead with the session."
Rictor broke in, unable to contain his glee. "So Dom's got plans,
huh? I just bet she's got plans. Who'd've thought she'd have it in her?
'Course, the way she dresses, you'd know she's got a wild streak, but
I always thought she was a fighter, not a lover." He yelped as a
spoon hit him from behind.
Theresa glared at him "I'll have ye know, ye insensitive prick,
that how a woman dresses has absolutely *no* impact on what kind of person
she is, and if she wants to spend time with an old friend that's her
business!" Her eyes widened as she realized what she had said, but she
resumed eating her sandwich, hoping that no one had caught it.
Tabitha's eyes gleamed with discovery. "An 'old friend', hmmm?
Wonder if he's an old friend of Cable's, too. Bet fearless leader wouldn't
like that, now...if he could even get his eyes off of Storm long enough to
notice."
Theresa gave up on her sandwich, throwing her hands in the air.
She stood up. "Who knows? But I bet with ye goin' on about it so, the
world will know by Tuesday. I've never met a bigger bunch of gossipers in
me life. I'll see ye later." She turned, disgusted, and walked out of the
kitchen.
Tabitha shrugged, and returned her attention to her salad. "Can't
fault a girl for trying," she smiled.
Across the mansion, Cable walked into the larger kitchen. He
usually ate with the others, but he decided against it today. He'd seen
enough of them for a while, and he knew they felt the same about him.
The kitchen was usually empty for this time of day - only one other person
sat at the large table. Psylocke, now free from the curse of the Crimson
Dawn, had finished lunch and was silently reading at the table. Betsy
Braddock looked up from her book, and couldn't repress a knowing smile.
'Every telepath within a hundred miles felt the psychic backlash of his...
experience last night.' She definately had, and she chuckled silently 'I
know Warren certainly appreciated it.' She liked Domino, she always had.
Although she didn't know her well enough to call her a friend, she
considered her a bit of a kindred spirit. Domino also often spurned
conventions, and Betsy found that refreshing. She also considered Storm a
close friend, and as much as she'd appreciated the irony of Cable's
situation she did not especially enjoy the way he was treating the two
women. Although it was completely none of her business, Betsy decided to
speak to him. She laid her book down.
"The performance was wonderful last night. We really enjoyed it.
You should've come." She looked across the room and saw his broad
shoulders tense.
He turned around from where he was standing. "What?" His voice was
thick and harsh.
She continued blithely. "The Vivaldi concerto. Smashing
performance. Great fun." She smiled "We appreciated the gift. Sometimes
the best things in life come when we least expect it, eh?" She looked
perfectly innocent, but mentally shook with ribald laughter,
carefully concealed by her psychic shielding. "And how was your evening?"
He looked at her with narrowed eyes, and said in measured tones
"Absolutely uneventful." He took some meat from the refrigerator and
walked to the table, sitting as far from her as possible. Though his body
language discouraged conversation, she continued "What did you two do
last night?"
He looked up from his meal. "We went to the theater."
She raised an eyebrow "Oh really? What did you see?"
He groaned inwardly. Psylocke was never this talkative. Why did
she have to wait until now to get cute with him? "The Periodic Tables of Spam.
Betsy, please...my head is killing me."
She almost choked. 'This is better than I thought.' "Excuse me? I
don't believe I've seen that one. The Periodic Tables of...what?"
He sighed. "You heard me. It was her idea."
Betsy, feigning ignorance, looked properly dubious. "You mean that
Domino gave up tickets to Vivaldi to see...let me get this straight...The
Periodic Tables of Spam? I really didn't think that her style at all."
Betsy's eyes glittered in merriment.
He exhaled sharply "I didn't go with Domino, Psylocke. I went with
Storm." His voice now had a sharp edge of irritation.
Betsy nodded, but then affected an expression of confusion. "But
what about the purple flas...oh, never mind." She stood gracefully. "None
of my business." His eyes narrowed, but before he could speak she
'apologized'. "I'm sorry. How crass of me to bring it up." She turned and
walked away, mental barriers locked tight against the
psionic barrage she felt sure would come. Nothing happened. As she
deposited her dirty dishes into the washer, she glanced over her shoulder
to see him sitting quietly, eyes closed. She could sense the pain
from the headache radiating from him, and was almost sorry she'd
antagonized him so. As she left the room, she passed Ororo, and smiled
pleasantly at her. From the hall, she heard Ororo say in a slightly
disgusted voice "Nathan- raw steak?" She shook her head in sympathy. He
really was having a bad day.
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