Standard disclaimers apply.
Just Lucky, I Guess 30/?
Taking a deep breath, she collected herself and conciously opened
the mindlink. 'Alright, Nate, I'm done,' Domino sent cautiously. As
soon as she felt his surprise at her sudden message, she partially
closed her mind to his, allowing only his thoughts to come through.
The memory of the dull ache that had permeated her skull for so long
was entirely too fresh, and she just didn't think she had the energy
to repeat everything Pete had told her to Nathan without at least a
*little* bit of time alone to process it. It was going to be difficult
enough to decide just how to present the news that his 'son' was back,
much less what the horror of what he had planned.
Still sitting in the restaurant a block away, Nathan had just
called a server over to his table when Domino's message burst into his
thoughts. Though startled at the abruptness and gruffness of her tone,
he was more disturbed by the poorly concealed fear that her hastily
thrown up shields hadn't quite disguised in time.
Her mental shielding, which they both knew wouldn't even slow him
down if he chose to look through it, was a long recognized sign
between them. As one of Earth's premier psis linked with a non-psi,
Cable had always had the definite advantange in their mental link.
Knowing how very little Dom liked being at a disadvantage in
*anything*, Nathan hadn't taken her acceptance of the bond lightly.
Her shields, however rudimentary they might be, were a red flag
telling him not to look any closer, and he'd learned to respect that.
Two intensely private people, they'd learned over the years what to
share and what to keep back from each other. As much as he wanted to
delicately pierce her mental barriers and find out just what the hell
Pete had told her that was frightening her so badly, he wouldn't
betray that trust.
'Dom? Are you alright? What did Pete say?' Nathan sat up abruptly
in his chair, ignoring for a moment the nice waitress he'd summoned
for another drink.
Domino groaned. 'Dammit, Nate. I am *not* in the mood for a
debriefing right now,' she thought to herself. Focusing her thoughts
in his direction, she sent a terse message 'Get everyone else together
and get settled in the hotel- Pete and Kitty're gonna meet us there
tonight. I'm going for a walk.' She completely severed the link, not
caring for the moment how frustrated she knew he would be.
Clasping her briefcase close to her, she began walking slowly in
the opposite direction from the hotel. 'Dammit, Nate, you've
disappointed *me* enough lately,' she fumed, trying to justify her
shutting Nathan out yet again. Despite her best efforts, she knew that
her ire wasn't truly directed at Nate, though he'd certainly done
enough to deserve it lately. Her heels clicked rhythmically on the
sidewalk as she stalked down the street, her thoughts slowly turning
to the true root of her anger. 'Bastard,' she growled, already
descending into the dangerous mood she associated with any thought of
Tolliver and his pets.
Nathan jumped out of his chair, muttering a curse that wouldn't
be invented for millenia yet. In his rush to get to the hotel and meet
Dom, he inadvertantly knocked down the poor waitress who had been
hovering near his table, waiting for his order. Several abject
apologies and a big tip later, he was out the door.
A few blocks away, Logan was comfortably sprawled in the plush
velvet chair outside the waiting room. With some not so subtle
encouragement, Betsy had decided to buy the dress, and had casually
given the fawning salesgirl her credit card to ring up the purchase.
Though the clerk didn't recognize Betsy's new appearance, she did
recognize the inevitable air of wealth and privelege that clung to
Betsy and had treated her accordingly. Her assurances (verified as
sincere, thanks to Psylocke's telepathy) combined with Logan's obvious
physical reaction to her appearance in the gown had convinced her that
her instincts about it has been accurate.
She'd been tempted to peer deeper into her teammate's mind as
well as the clerk's, but his obvious admiration of her appearance had
rendered deeper inspection unnecessary, not to mention her reluctance
to invade her friend's privacy in such a manner. She usually had few
qualms about using her telepathy in whatever manner served her best,
but Logan was worthy of more respect than that. In any case, the
flashes of his thoughts and emotions that leaked through her mental
shields were more than enough to verify her suspicions.
When she stepped back out of the changing room, Logan's eyes
fastened on her. Nodding his head in the direction of the departing
sales clerk, he'd unabashedly ran his eyes up and down her now
casually dressed frame. "Wings is a lucky man," he'd teased with a
smile.
Her eyes narrowed, and before she could stop herself she muttered
"He certainly thinks he is." She rolled her eyes sarcastically. 'But
I'm not so sure anymore,' the thought skittered across her mind as she
considered the fierce arguments between herself and her feathered
lover and the coolness that had pervaded their relationship as of
late. Her face tightened almost imperceptively, but Logan's keen
senses immediately perceived her distress.
His weathered features creased sympathetically. "Trouble in
paradise, eh, darlin'?" he growled. Conciously suppressing the images
of gleefully beating the shit out of Warren that immediately sprang to
mind, he contented himself with the promise that he'd have a nice
*long* talk with the insensitive Mr. Worthington when they returned to
the states.
Stepping over to the couch where he sat, she motioned for him to
slide over. He did, and she gracefully sat down beside him. "Things
haven't been 'paradise' between Warren and I for some time now,
Logan," she murmured softly, knowing that he wouldn't press her for
more information than she could readily give.
Catching her slim hand in his own, he rumbled softly "Then he's a
damn fool, Betts. Ya ain't gotta say no more-"
He broke off suddenly, but even with her telepathy turned 'off' she
sensed Logan's anger and genuine concern for her, tempered with the
soft flickerings of desire that she'd felt ever since she'd stepped
out of the dressing room. Closing her eyes briefly, she opened them to
look directly into his eyes.
"Thank you," she whispered softly, the corners of her perfectly
shaped lips curling in a grateful smile.
"UH-HMMM," an embarrassed cough broke the heavy silence that hung
between them. Turning slowly around, her composure completely intact,
Betsy squeezed Logan's hand and released it, part of her cursing the
girl's timing while another part was very, very glad for the reprieve.
"Yes?" she asked regally.
The sales clerk blushed fiercely. "Uh...I'm truly sorry to bother
you, Ms. Braddock, but your friend over there-" She pointed in the
direction of the counter, where Ororo was staring at them, her arms
crossed against her chest, an unreadable expression flitting across
her face. "She told me to ask you if you were ready to go yet..."
Refusing to meet either pair of eyes, the sales clerk busied herself
with picking at an imaginary piece of lint on her sweater.
Before Betsy could answer, a harsh, tired voice sounded in her
mind. 'Psylocke. Domino and Wisdom are done- I need your team to meet
me in the lobby of the St. Martin's in thirty minutes-' Nathan's
mindvoice was preoccupied, and she could sense a deep worry beneath
the flatness of his tone. 'This does not bode well,' she sighed.
Raising a wry eyebrow at Ororo, she felt rather than heard the
low rumble of laughter echoing in Logan's chest. Supressing her own
bemused chuckle, she smoothly rose from her seat beside him on the
comfortable couch. "No need to apologize. We're certainly ready to go-
if my purchases are ready, that is," she smiled reassuringly at the
clerk, all the while carrying on a rapid mental conversation with
Nathan 'What are the plans? Did all go well?'
Logan rose beside her, and along with the clerk they walked over
to where Ororo stood beside the sales counter. As they walked,
Elisabeth listened to Nathan's terse explanation of Domino's scant
report while she reassured the clerk that she was indeed pleased with
her shopping experience.
After assuring Cable that they would indeed meet him at the hotel
within the hour, she took her card back from the sales clerk, who
walked behind the counter to ring up Storm's purchases while the three
whispered softly among themselves.
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Ororo spoke softly to
Logan, who simply stared at her, an amused expression on his face.
"Certainly not," Betsy responded calmly, then proceeded to
inform both her teammates about Cable's message. By the time the sales
clerk was finished with Ororo's gift- a long, incredibly supple
leather duster to replace Gambit's well-worn and battle-tornjacket-
the three were more than ready to depart.
Beaming with pleasure at the plump commission of the two women's
purchases, the sales clerk watched the three leave the store, her
curiosity piqued by the strange trio. Her attention was soon diverted
by another customer needing her assistance, though, and after a few
more seconds of speculation she gave them no more thought.
to be cont'd
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as
the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be
afraid. -John 14:27 NIV
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