Standard disclaimers apply, and as always, feedback is appreciated.
Just Lucky, I Guess 9/?
She sat down to the computer, rubbing her aching head. Since
their argument last night, it had pounded mercilessly. She'd taken
several painkillers already, and though they'd blunted the worst of the
pain her skull still throbbed. The work-out session had been torturous,
but for a thankful change Nathan had avoided his psionics in observing
and analyzing the session. She'd studiously avoided his gaze and had
spoken to him only when necessary, but even so she couldn't help but
notice that he looked like hell. 'Good,' she smiled, and winced at the
pain. She'd tried an Askani bio-feedback technique to curb the pain, and
it had almost worked until she remembered who had taught it to her.
'Nathan. Smug bastard.' She fumed silently for a moment, then turned the
machine on.
#You have mail.#
"Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically. "That sign flashing on
the screen wasn't quite enough to clue me in- glad you told me." She
opened her mailbox, and grinned when she saw the first message- a raunchy
joke forwarded by Pete Wisdom with a quick note at the end.
HEY DOM. CALL ME THIS WEEK- GOT SOME NEWS YOU MIGHT WANT TO KNOW
ABOUT. OH, YEAH, KITTY SAYS HEY.
PETE
She raised an eyebrow speculatively. News from Pete was usually
interesting, and it'd be good to see what the old git was up to. She
didn't have that many old friends left, and she'd recently learned to
treasure the ones she had. 'All except my best one, that is.' Sighing, she
leaned back in the chair. 'Nathan...why are you such a jerk? And why do I
let myself put up with it?' She sat up suddenly. "And when did I become
such a wuss to spend so much time thinking about this crap?"
They walked into the kitchen hand in hand, determined to get the
teasing and gibes over with as soon as possible. The room was relatively
full, the team having drifted in sporadically after the session and
showers so their entrance was noted immediately.
Tabitha's eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. She nudged Bobby
under the table, and he almost choked. Theresa smothered a grin, and
leaned up to whisper something in Jimmy's ear. He chuckled, and they
released hands a bit reluctantly.
"Hey, everybody, what's up?" His voice was light and casual, but
his dark eyes sparkled.
Shatterstar answered "We were discussing Cable's disposition this
morning. It seems that some of us" he motioned toward Tabitha and Bobby
"consider him a 'hardhat'."
Rictor broke in, smiling. "HardASS, 'Star."
Shatterstar snorted. "Whatever. In any case, I disagree. On my
world, I underwent much harsher training when I was only a child."
Tabitha looked at him over her sunglasses. "Yeah, and look how
well you turned out. Anyway, that's old news, we're always bitching about
Cable. So," She turned and faced Theresa. "How's tricks?"
Terry looked at Jimmy then back at Tabitha. "Couldn't be better."
She waggled her eyebrows playfully, then walked across the room to a
cabinet and began rummaging through boxes and cans.
Tabitha would not be thwarted so easily. "Hold it right there. Out
with it." She pointed at the couple. "You. And you. Talk. Now."
Jimmy flushed slightly, but Terry answered quickly. "What do ye
think, Tab? 'Tis none of you're business, really, but Jimmy an' me have
patched things up. Now, what were ye sayin' about Cable?" Her expression
left no room for debate.
Tabitha flashed her a look that said 'We'll talk later', but
dubiously returned to her previous topic. "I was sayin', before you so
rudely interrupted, that..." She began a tirade that was mostly ignored as
others ate meals of varying degrees of nutrition.
'Does she never shut up?' Rictor growled silently, sliding his
chair away from the table. He opened the trash can, and blinked in
surprise. On top of the normal kitchen refuse were three empty
half-gallons of liquor, a chipped shot glass and two broken glasses, all
with telltale traces of brown liquid pooled in their respective bottoms.
He spun around angrily.
"Lissen here- next time ya'll throw a party and don't invite me,
I'm gonna be really pissed.... He held one of the bottles up, an accusing
look on his handsome features. X-Force had impromptu get-togethers all the
time, and by common agreement everyone was invited (except Caliban, who
really didn't understand why his teammates acted so different when they
had a party). In their business, relaxation was absolutely essential, and
like many other groups of friends, X-Force found considerable release in
gatherings much like the one obviously held in the kitchen last night. Of
course, not everyone drank- Siryn wouldn't allow herself, and Shatterstar
refused, but all enjoyed the down time just the same. Occaisionally,
they'd even invite some of the younger and more boisterous X-men- Bobby
Drake was an especial favorite. Domino sometimes joined them, but always
sat apart from the group, nursing a drink with a decidedly nostalgic look
on her face.
Bobby sat his tea down. "Ric...Man, what are you
talking about? I haven't heard about any party...unless some of you had
one and didn't tell the rest of us..." He glared at the group.
Theresa shook her head. "Don't be stupid any more than ye
absolutely have ta be, boys. Lemme see that." She walked
over to the trash can, oblivious to the concerned look James cast in her
direction.
She picked it up and glanced down at the remains in the trash can.
Part of her longingly wanted to pick up where this little celebration
obviously left off, but she quickly brushed those thoughts away. 'Wonder
whose these are....Probably none of our business, but if anyone else
'sides us was in here drinkin' and raisin' Cain in our kitchen I'd really
like ta know....' She brightened. "Cal! Come here for a minute, will ye?"
The huge Morlock stood a bit uncertainly. He'd sat quietly to the
side of the team, still reeling from the recent effects of Apocalypse's
tamperings. He looked up. "Yes, friend-Terry?"
Her expression softened. "Cal...I don't want ta push ye, but kin
ye tell me whose bottles these are?" She picked up the other two and held
them out to him.
He nodded surely, proud that he could help. "Yes. There's many,
many scents in this room, but..." He walked over to the bottles and
delicately sniffed one then sneezed "Stinky stuff! Whew!" He
thought for a moment and then grinned broadly in triumph. "Patch-eye and
Cable-Nathan had a party!" He looked quizically at Terry. "Why wasn't
Caliban invited?"
Theresa managed to hide her smile. "Nobody was, Cal, but I tell
ye what. I'll invited ye to the next party, how about that?"
Caliban nodded happily and returned to his seat a little surer of
himself than before. The rest of the team wore varying expressions of
amusement, disbelief and surprised glee. Tabitha actually crowed in
delight.
"Three half-gallons? Droga, I thought Ric could pack it in...gotta
give ol' Nate and Dom credit. I guess years of experience teach you how to
handle more than just battle tactics..."
Tabitha answered with a lascivious leer "With this much liquor
there's no telling what else they handled last night!"
Theresa stopped the private grin on her own face. 'At least
they'll have someone else ta talk about 'cept Jimmy an' me, now,' she
thought, but managed a "Tab, please...Nothing's wrong, and anyway, it's
none of our business. You people really need ta get lives. Now, Cal, for
such good work would ye like a Pop-tart?"
"Caliban loves Pop-tarts!"
to be cont'd
(
geocities.com/soho/studios) (
geocities.com/soho)