Another Old Lang Syne: Part 2
by Timesprite
“Hands off,” she slapped at the fingers that were trying to steal her toast. “Order something else if you’re still hungry.”
“You’re not eating it,” he pointed out. In fact, she hadn’t touched much of her food at all.
She scowled, though her tone remained light. “It’s the principal of the thing. If I let you steal my toast now, pretty soon you’ll be taking all sorts of liberties.”
The small restaurant was only half-filled with patrons, mostly couples, a few families, either talking quietly or watching out large windows at snow falling lightly over Salem Center. Cable leaned back in the booth. “Something the matter?” Normally, he didn’t try to pry, partly because getting Dom to part with any information unwillingly was a lost cause and partly because of the respect he had for her privacy.
Lately, though, she’d seemed out of sorts, even before they’d come to Westchester, and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was that was troubling her.
“I’m fine,” she replied, sipping her coffee. “Just not as hungry as I thought.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She set the cup down and sighed, leaning back against the padded back of the booth. “It’s just- Okay, I’ll be honest. The holiday season always unnerves the hell out of me, and I don’t know why. It’s like being five years old and terrified of what’s in the attic. You don’t know why you’re scared, it’s just a gut feeling. I don’t know,” she sighed, “there’s stuff I don’t remember Nate, a big chunk of my life missing. Maybe if I knew, it would make more sense.”
She rarely spoke of the gap in her memories, about anything that had happened before they’d met, for that matter, and he’d never tried to pry. Still, he’d ‘seen’ that blank part of her mind, not memories buried subconsciously, but rather eradicated leaving a discernible altered patch, like a psychic equivalent to scar tissue.
“You can probably feel it, right? I mean if I can...” she trailed off and pushed scrambled eggs around on her plate with her fork.
“Dom,” he said, leaning forward and putting his hand on hers. “I can’t fix it, if that’s-”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t asking. It’s just- sometimes it’s really fucking weird to think I’m walking around with the psychic equivalent to a hole in the head.” She frowned slightly. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I figure that by this point, knowing wouldn’t change a damned thing. Either there’s a good reason those memories are gone, and I really don’t want to screw with it, or there isn’t and maybe I find out that I had a normal life after all. I’m not sure which would hurt more.” She set the fork down. “I mean, what is, is. Right?” She asked wryly.
“Right,” he replied darkly. There were some days that, despite their psilink, he had to wonder what she was thinking, what drove her on.
“Y’know, she said after a pause. “I was thinking maybe we should move.”
“Move...?”
“Out of the warehouse. We both know the kids don’t really need us anymore. They’re adults... they’ve proven they can handle themselves.”
“You’ve got someplace in mind?” He asked, sipping his coffee.
“I’ve got a place in Oregon,” she shrugged. “It’s nice, relatively close to San Francisco if they needed us for some reason. Needs work, but nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“It’s an idea. What brought this on?” He asked, curious.
“Because I want to start living again, Nate. You got your big chance, defeated Apocalypse, and now your life is yours again. But I haven’t done that yet. I’m just hanging in limbo... so I thought, why not?”
“Dom... you’re asking me to ‘move in’ with you?” He asked, amused grin spreading across his face, so genuine, Domino realized, that it reached his eyes. Yes, she could definitely get used to the softer side he’d been showing of late. He still had his demons of course, he’d seen and done things that would never leave him, things he wouldn’t *let* himself forget. He still had a stubborn streak a mile wide and seemed to enjoy pushing all her buttons, but as Jean had observed the night before it was nice to see him smile.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” she smirked. “Think we can manage to cohabitate without killing each other?”
“At the least, we’ll have fun finding out,” he replied with a tone that implied much more than his words.
“You,” she said, jabbing her fork at him, “are a dirty old man.”
“Glad I haven’t lost my touch.”
She shook her head in mock indignation and got up from her seat. “C’mon. We should probably get back before your family decides we’ve been abducted by aliens or something.”
----
“Let’s not go in just yet.”
“Hrm?”
“It’s nice out. Can’t we just... walk?”
He chuckled. “Sure. I doubt they’ll miss us for a little while longer...”
“Good,” she grinned, scooping up a handful of snow and lobbing it at him. He dodged it, then took off after her as she darted into the tree line.
“We’re really not dressed for this,” he commented, laying on his back in the snow. Dom was straddled across his waist, hands on his shoulders. Not that she was *actually* holding him down...
“So?” She grinned.
“So? Easy for you to say... you’re not getting wet.”
“Mmmm. So I’m not. What are you gonna do about it?”
“I think.... this.” He dumped her off into the snow, then pinned her shoulders to the ground.
“Figures,” she smirked. “You always do like to be on top.”
----
“I’m not going out there.”
“Why not?” Domino stood on the ice halfway across the lake. “It’s perfectly safe.”
“Aren’t you supposed to have skates for this or something?” He took a tentative step out onto the ice.
“Well, ideally, I suppose. But I doubt there are a pair lying around that just happen to be your size,” she replied. “Besides, aside from the amusement factor, no good could come from you trying to balance on two thin strips of metal. I have a hard enough time not falling over.”
“So why are we doing this, then?”
“Because we’re on vacation and trying to enjoy ourselves? Because I’m bored and the idea of you making a fool out of yourself appeals me?”
“I think I like the first option better,” he mumbled, taking careful steps out onto the lake’s frozen surface. “Stop laughing at me.”
“Sorry,” she snickered. “But you should really see your face.”
“I’m trying not to fall on my ass,” he retorted. “And you’re not helping.”
“Awww. Poor little Nate afraid he’s gonna fall down?”
“Cute.”
“I know I am,” she shot back, “but I fail to see what bearing that has on this conversation.”
“You could stop laughing at me and help me instead.”
“Right. Like I’m gonna be able to hold you up. Oh, don’t look at me like that.” She sighed and walked back to where he was standing. “You’re pathetic.”
“Water was not meant to be walked on.”
“But you’re the ‘mutant messiah!” She laughed. “It should be second nature.” She let him put a hand on her shoulder. “Better?”
“Um... yeah, I think so.” He blinked. “Did you just giggle?”
“I can’t help it! You look so cute when you’re off balance.”
“Hrm. Remind me to drag you to family gatherings more often.”
“Oh no you don’t. This is strictly a once a year occurrence. Ow... hey, lay off the shoulder a bit.”
“Sorry. I am glad you came, though.”
“And I’m glad you’re happy.”
“You happy?” He reached out and brushed a few strands of windblown hair out of her face.
“Not you too...” She muttered.
“What?”
She shook her head slightly. “Never mind.”
“Dom...”
She looked up at him, biting her lip. “Don’t. Please just... don’t spoil the moment, okay?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Okay.”
“Hey, careful, don’t-”
“Flonq!”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah... I’m fine. You? That didn’t sound like a soft landing....”
“...that wasn’t me.”
“Shit.”
----
“I think it’s a good idea,” Jean commented as she made tea at the counter. Scott sat behind her at the kitchen table. “The professor will be back by then and-” She stopped mid-sentence, mug falling from her hand and crossing to the floor.
“Jean!?”
The red-headed telepath was already hastily yanking on her coat.
----
The shock of hitting the cold water knocked the air from his lungs and threw off his bearings. There was light above him, but he couldn’t be sure just how far he’d been swept under the ice. With cold numbed limbs he dragged himself to the surface, emerging amongst broken slabs of ice. Mercifully, the edges around the hole were reasonably thick and he managed to drag himself soaked and shivering onto the surface of the lake.
There was no sign of Dom.
The intense cold jolted her out of a blackout, only to find herself trapped somewhere beneath the ice on the lake. She’d already inhaled a lungful of water and her limbs felt leaden, peripheral vision beginning to fuzz out. With no better prospects in mind, she started swimming blindly, hoping her luck would hold out.
Jean dashed out the back door, oblivious to the cold snow that bit at her ankles as she ran across the lawn to the lake. As she reached the shore, she saw Cable dragging himself onto the lake’s frozen surface. “Nathan? Are you okay?”
“Don’t-” he croaked out, pulling himself into a sitting position.
#Don’t worry, I’ve got it.# Jean joined him on the ice, using her telekinesis to keep it from cracking apart any further. “Where’s Domino?”
He gestured back to the hole in the ice.
“Fuck.” #Scott! Blankets, lake, now!# “Nathan, head back to the shore.”
“Jean-”
“Just go. You can’t help her right now, and I can’t if I’m trying to look after you.” She knelt down near the open water. #Domino?# For a long moment, there was nothing, then a weak reply.
‘...Jean?’
#Hold on.# She frowned. It wasn’t going easy to split her concentration between keeping the ice stable and trying to haul Domino back to the surface. But if she could just nudge her a bit...
Domino broke the surface of the water a moment later and Jean hauled the coughing, half frozen woman back up on the ice.
She lay there a moment, trying to clear the lake water from her lungs. “Nate?” She managed to get out between fits.
“He’s fine. Let’s get you inside.”
Scott met them at the shore, Cable standing beside him with a blanket tossed over his shoulders, still dripping wet and shivering.
‘Sorry, I tried convincing him to go inside but...’
#But he’s stubborn, I know. They’ll be fine.#
Domino pulled herself away from Jean’s helping hands, grabbed up the proffered blanket and strode back towards the house.
----
Scott winced as a long string of profanity reached his ears. He paused outside the medlab door a moment, wondering if he really wanted to go in there. With a sigh, he entered the room, two mugs in hand, deciding he’d better go in and save Hank before the abuse got physical instead of verbal.
“I’m not sure you understand the importance of having everyone’s medical history on file...”
“Take your files and shove them, McCoy. You’re not poking at me with all your little instruments of torture.” Domino stood in the center of the room, a finger pointing accusingly at the doctor. Cable stood against one wall, and Scott thought he could see a faintly amused look on his son’s face. He walked over to where Nathan stood.
“Is that coffee?”
Scott shook his head. “Hot cider. Hank said not to give you any caffeine. Some days, I think he has a death wish.” He handed him one of the mugs and set the other on the counter.
“That’s pretty apparent,” Nate replied as Dom unleashed another verbal assault on McCoy.
“...I’m quite sure that’s anatomically impossible,” Beast said, seeming totally undaunted by Domino’s obvious anger. “Besides, you were submerged in sub-zero water for several minutes, and inhaled a large quantity of said water. I can’t, in good conscience, allow you to leave.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine. Cold a hell, but fine. And if you don’t let me out that door, I’m going to rearrange your limbs. So why don’t we just call it a day?”
“Well, I-”
“I think you’d better listen to her, Hank,” Scott spoke up. “I’m sure Nathan will keep an eye on her.” He crossed the room and handed Domino the other mug of cider. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll agree they’ve both had a stressful enough day as it is.”
Hank considered this for a moment. “You do have a point.”
----
“You okay?”
“Cold,” she replied. “And tired. I think I might go lay down.”
He nodded and put an arm around her shoulders. He could feel a sort of shock running through her that betrayed the facade of anger and annoyance she’d been using in the medlab, a fine trembling that seemed to run through her like the hum from a high tension wire. He frowned and decided to attribute it to a fading adrenaline rush, despite the fact that he’d been getting odd impressions over the link for quite awhile now. Trying to work out what was going on with her was like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing and no picture to work from. And Dom certainly wasn’t talking.
She stayed silent as they walked back to their room, and curled up on the bed facing away from him. With a mental sigh, he laid down next to her. The sweater she was wearing, his sweater, he noted idly, had slid to expose one pale shoulder. He ran his thumb lightly over a scar that ran along the top of her shoulder blade, light pink and fairly recent looking.
“You never told me what this was from.” At his words, he felt that ‘hum’ rev up again, and the muscles beneath his fingertips went taught, as if everything about her, body and mind had been drawn tight as a drum. Uneasiness pulsated like a beacon over the link and he had to wonder if she knew just how much she was broadcasting. He’d taken an almost childish delight in how their long atrophied had sprung back to life in the last few months... sprung back and thrived. And while the trouble undercurrents continued, there was much less of the outright squabbling that had previously defined their relationship.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to radiate as much calm as he could until he felt her relax in his arms. There was something so perfect about the moment, some thing so right. He wanted to crystallize that feeling and hang onto it, try to forget that it all could have ended out on the lake. “Eventful afternoon.” He said finally.
“Let’s not repeat it. I didn’t exactly enjoy the experience.”
His arms tightened around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder. A quiet sort of tension filled the darkened room, thoughts lingering on things they wouldn’t say. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of her in his arms, coming to terms with the fear he’d buried deep inside himself. Close calls were a way of life for them, but that didn’t mean he could stop the helpless feeling he got when she was put in harm’s way. He could never get used to that. No matter how many missions he ran, no matter how many close calls... there was still that heart-stopping moment of dread when he had to wonder if it was all over, if fate had played him yet another cruel hand.
When he awoke a few hours later, Dom was still sleeping soundly. He got up, careful not to disturb her, put a throw from the chair over her shoulders and headed downstairs.
----
“Well, look who’s finally awake.”
Cable pulled his head out of the fridge and glanced at Jean, who was standing in the doorway. “More tired than I thought, I guess.” He went back to rummaging through the leftovers from the night before. He pulled out a couple of containers then went to the cupboard for a plate. “It’s quiet. Everyone went out?”
Jean pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “Pretty much. I think they were all planning on going to a show.”
“You and Scott didn’t want to go?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t really even think much about it. With Rachel and everything else that’s been happening around here, I guess we’re used to it. Domino still sleeping?”
“For once,” he murmured, taking a seat opposite her. He looked up. “You should go out. It’s good to take a break.”
Jean tipped her head to the side and eyed him curiously. “If I didn’t know better, I’d be tempted to ask who you were and what you’d done with Nathan.” He raised an eyebrow at her but kept eating. “You just seemed to have embraced this whole new philosophy of yours whole-heartedly. Don’t get me wrong,” she continued, “I’m very glad to see you happy. But it’s a little unnerving at the same time.”
“Heh.”
“You know,” she said, leaning on one hand. “I’m really very glad I don’t have to feed you on a regular basis.”
He looked up, setting his fork down. “Dom loves to bitch about that,” he replied. “I’m serious, though. I’ll watch Rachel, you go out.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You sure you won’t mind playing big brother for a few hours?”
“Not at all.”
----
The stairs were dark and ominous before her, everything out of proportion, seen from a child’s point of view.
She knew she was dreaming, one of the scant details of her early life she still recalled. There were voices, angry, the words indecipherable behind the closed door below from around which seeped a thin halo of light. She took another step, and the board beneath her feet cracked loud as a gunshot. She stumbled, frightened, and nearly toppled down the stairs before she was caught, gentle yet strong arms wrapping her in a warm embrace as a woman’s soft voice scolded her softly.
She jerked awake in the darkness, catching her breath and trying to slow her heart. What was it about that dream that managed to terrify her every time? She rubbed her eyes blearily and looked at the clock. Eleven PM. How had she managed to sleep that late? She frowned and ran a hand back through her hair, the last traces of the dream still troubling her. No matter how hard she tried, she never could place the voices, except for the assumption that the woman, who was also in a few other of her scattered memories, must have been her mother. Banishing the thoughts, she stretched lightly and headed downstairs.
She could hear the TV in the den faintly as she came down the stairs, as well as what sounded like... Nathan talking to himself?
“That angel doesn’t know what he’s talking about, don’t listen to him...”
She peeked around the doorframe to see just what he was muttering about. He was sitting on the couch, Rachel balanced in his lap, grumbling aloud at whatever it was he was watching.
“Enjoying yourself?” She asked, stepping into the room and leaning against the doorframe. “Because I’m pretty sure the TV can’t hear you...”
“Um...” He looked almost... embarrassed? “We’re... bonding. Scott and Jean needed a night out and I thought I’d just offer...
“Mhmmm, sure Nate.”
“Well, she’s also really cute,” her admitted sheepishly.
"You can't keep her."
"Awwww... don't you want one Dom?"
"No. Just... No, Nate. You want something cute and a pain to take care of, I’ll buy you a puppy."
He stuck his lip out in a mock pout and she couldn’t help but laugh as she sat down beside him. “And here I thought you were supposed to be the adult.” She glanced at the TV. “I hate this movie.”
“Me too,” he agreed. “But it’s all that’s on.”
“Rachel doesn’t seem too enthused either,” she commented, glancing at the sleeping infant in Nate’s lap. “Should probably put her to bed.”
“You’re right. I’ll go do that...”
“Nah. I can take her. You’ve been playing baby-sitter all evening anyway.”
“You sure?”
“I think I can handle it,” she replied in a slightly exasperated tone and scooped Rachel up from his lap. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake as Dom cradled her gently.
“Do you want me to make you a sandwich or something? You missed dinner.”
“Coffee?”
“That it?”
“I’m really not that hungry. Coffee is fine.”
He frowned. “Okay.”
----
“Okay, kido... lets find your pajamas okay?” She set Rachel down on the changing table, and keeping an eye on her, went looking through the dresser drawers. “Winnie the Pooh or 101 Dalmatians... glad I’m not you. You’ve got they entire Disney cast here...” She looked around a bit more, finally finding a pair of plain pink pjs. “Better girlie than cartoon characters I guess,” she sighed. “Y’know, Nate’s right, you really are too cute for your own good. I bet you’ve got everyone here wrapped around your finger, right?” Rachel’s only reply was to giggle. “Oh, ticklish, huh? So’s your brother,” she whispered conspiratorially. “But you didn’t hear it from me. Okay, bed time.” She picked Rachel up and set her in the crib, snagging the baby monitor on her way out of the room.
----
“Everything go okay?”
“Putting an eight month old to bed isn’t that hard of a task,” she replied, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs. “Have a little faith in me?”
He handed her a cup of coffee and sat down next to her. “You know I do,” he replied.
She stared down at her reflection in her coffee. “Thanks,” she murmured.
“Something the matter?”
“I wish you’d stop asking me that,” she sighed.
“If it’s what I said earlier... I was just joking.”
“Hrm? Oh, that. I know,” she smiled wryly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay, so it’s not my misplaced attempts at humor. What is it?”
“Do we have to go over this?” She picked up her cup and wandered back into the den. “Can’t we just-”
“Dom, please.” He sank down next to her on the couch. “I just want-”
“What? What do you want from me, Nathan?”
“*From* you? Oath, Dom. I just want to help...”
“So I need help now?” She gave him a watery smile. “Gee, thanks.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a tight squeeze. “Never. I’m serious, though. If you need to talk.”
She shook her head and pulled away, though she was now smiling slightly. “When did you get so concerned? I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”
“I can think of a few things...”
“Oh, you-” She smacked him upside the head with one of the pillows on the couch. “Hey, watch it!” She hopped off the couch as she lobed the pillow back at him. “That is... you’re in trouble now.”
“Oh? We’ll see who’s in trouble...”
----
“Didn’t your mother teach you that using your TK like that was cheating?”
“There are rules to pillow fights? I wasn’t aware. Besides, I somehow doubt spraying me with the sprayer from the sink was legal.”
“My rules,” she smirked, looping her arms around his neck as she slid into a more comfortable position on his lap. “Got a problem with that?” She leaned in and kissed him.
“No... not at all,” he replied when they finally parted for oxygen.
She grinned. “Good. Mmmm...”
“Nathan, are you- Oh! I’m sorry.”
The couple on the couch jerked away from each other, heads whipping around in the direction of the doorway. “Jean?”
“I’m sorry Nathan,” She said, trying to hold in laughter and failing. “I should have scanned ahead.” Behind her, Scott was looking vaguely traumatized. “Well, don’t mind us... we’ll be on our way. And thanks for looking after Rachel.”
“Um... no problem...”
Jean grinned. “Goodnight Nathan, Domino.”
After they’d left, Dom flopped back on the couch, laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Cable grumbled, shooting her a look.
“You should have seen your face.” She gasped between helpless fits of laughter. “It was bright red!”
“It was embarrassing!”
“So your parents caught us making out on the couch... so what?” She laughed again. “Aww, poor baby.”
“Don’t mock me.”
“Stop pouting and I won’t.”
“I am NOT pouting.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“...this is ridiculous.”
“Yes, it is.” She smirked. “So stop acting like a petulant child.”
“Oh?”
“Hey! Put me down!”
“Make me.”
“You are not carrying me up the stairs...”
“Oh? Watch me.”
“Nathan!”
----
“So,” Jean commented as she listened to the commotion issuing from below. “Is it safe to say I win the pool?”
Scott paused, listening as another muffled yell reached his ears. “Took them long enough.”