by Alicia McKenzie
DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Marvel, but I belong to myself, as do Duey and Sarah.
The concept of the Subreality Cafe is Kielle's.
Cable was sitting quite peacefully at a table in the Subreality Cafe, pondering an iced cappuccino when a flushed, irritated-looking young woman stalked up to him and sat down across from him, glaring.
"Hello, Alicia," he greeted his Writer calmly, ignoring the forbidding scowl. It didn't necessarily mean she was angry. She got a very similar sort of look when she was deep in thought, too. "You look well."
"Shut up," she growled, gray eyes flashing dangerously.
Okay, so she was angry. Cable stiffened slightly, but forced himself to smile at her. When this particular Writer was in a bad mood, a placating demeanor was definitely in order. Otherwise, Very Bad Things happened. Like 'Broken'. And I do NOT want to end up staked out on an 'X' in the middle of the Egyptian desert, thank you very much-- "What's the matter?" he asked lightly. "Canon law again, right?"
"NO." The word dripped with sarcasm.
"Latin?"
"Drop dead."
He winced. Those words, coming from those lips, could take on very nasty implications. "Oh, come on," he said imploringly. "Be nice? I haven't done anything to you, have I?"
The corner of her mouth tugged upwards in a reluctant smile. "Since when have I ever needed THAT as an excuse?" she pointed out bluntly.
Sadistic witch. "Point taken," he sighed, poking skeptically at the whipped cream on top of his cappuccino. Alicia frowned at it.
"Since when did you start drinking stuff like that?"
"You don't remember?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Think back--you and Sarah were in here having this little plotting session for Epinikion? You'd had about six of these, and kept shrieking about 'how much fun!' everything was." He shrugged, eyeing her warily. "I felt like I needed a little pick-me-up."
She gave him a speculative look. He could almost see himself being measured, weighed, and categorized neatly, all in the space of a few heartbeats. "You're the Six-Pack Cable," she said. It wasn't a question, of course. She might sometimes come across as arrogant, with that little conceit of hers that she knew every facet of his character, but she could recognize different variations on him with uncanny accuracy. Probably because she WRITES so many of us-- "I just wrote you 'Tango In Volgograd'. Doing the nasty with Dom--what more do you want?"
He nearly choked on his cappuccino. "Doing the NASTY? Alicia, have you been spending too much time around your sister again?" She blushed. She was cute when she blushed, Cable reflected with a sigh. Gave her a decidedly innocent look that was quite at odds with that cheerfully malicious black heart that lurked beneath the surface. "Besides," he pointed out with a faint smile. "You also dumped me in a freezing river beforehand."
"Well, was I supposed to make it EASY?" She was peering around the Cafe, frowning again.
He sighed. "Who are you looking for?"
"A different you." She glanced at him, and then started to grin.
"What?" he asked. Very warily. That was one of those Grins That Meant No Good.
"You've got a whipped-cream mustache. It's cute." The grin grew almost wicked. "Whipped cream--hey, there's an idea for my next 'smutfic'--"
He snorted, but couldn't deny how much the idea appealed to him. Her so-called 'smutfics' were decidedly nicer places to be than the rest of her stories. "Cute. Which me are you looking for?" Cable glanced around the Cafe thoughtfully. "I think the 'Broken' me stumbled in and died quietly in a corner--"
Alicia gave him an irritated look. "What IS it with you guys and that story? It's not THAT bad. Well, I guess it is. But still--"
"If you trot out that whole 'no one gives you airtime like me' speech, I'm going to throw up," Cable said dryly. "Doesn't hold water, kiddo--"
"Oh, stop complaining--"
"Complaining? In one story, I'm being tortured and brainwashed. In another story, you had Caliban KILL me. In ANOTHER story, I'm as happy as an oyster--"
"Clam," she corrected demurely.
"Clam," he said sarcastically, "only it's all going to end badly because you're going to have me--"
"Hey!" Alicia gave him an appalled look. "No spoilers!"
Cable scowled at her. "Hypocrite. Fine. In yet another story, I'm slowly losing my mind. In ANOTHER story, you've killed Dom and I'm in constant psychic agony, psi-linked to MAGNETO of all people--"
"Are you quite done?" Alicia asked haughtily.
"No! Let's see--what else. Dumping me in a frozen river. Having Dom shoot me. Having me fight twelve duels in less than an hour. Letting another bunch of Canaanites kick the crap out of me. Fried my mind--at LEAST twice. Getting me horribly drunk twice--did you have ANY idea what the hangovers were like after 'Truth In The Tequila' and 'Drowning Sorrows'?"
"Oh, stop bitching--"
"Bitching? BITCHING?" Cable rose, glaring down at the unrepentant Writer. The other fictives in the Cafe were starting to shift uneasily, sensing trouble brewing. "You half-killed a Crusades version of me. You let Stryfe have a blast tormenting me while he was in control of my body. You had me do the mutual-annihilation thing with a bunch of flonqing Sentinels! You made me make nice with my GRANDFATHER!"
"Aww," Alicia said mockingly, her eyes dancing. "Poor baby."
"And to top it all off, you BURNED ME IN EFFIGY!!!!!"
She leaned back in her chair, still grinning at him. "You forgot about having you sleep with Bishop."
"OATH!!!!!!"
Alicia leaned forward and snagged his iced cappuccino, taking a long sip. He glared at her. "Like you need any more caffeine, you flonqing madwoman!!!"
She batted her eyelashes at him. "But I think better when I'm on a caffeine high."
"You mean, you get twice as devious and ten times as nasty!"
She looked up at him over the rim of the glass, and then set it down.
Her lower lip trembled slightly.
He groaned inwardly.
She sniffled.
He cursed.
"Does this mean you don't love me anymore, Nate?" she asked in a forlorn, little-girl voice.
He knew it. Sitting back down, he snatched his capuccino away from her and seethed. Her mock-offended look dissolved into giggles.
"Don't pout," she instructed him.
"I'm not pouting."
"Are too."
"Am--" He bit his lip and leaned across the table towards her. "Don't you have a story to write? Or several?"
"A couple dozen, as a matter of fact," Alicia said, suddenly earnest. "But I'm in the middle of working on True Believers right now--"
"Oh, joy--"
"Hush. That's the you I was looking for, actually." She grimaced. "He must be hiding or something."
"Or gibbering in the men's room. Either way, I wouldn't blame him."
She shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. Maybe I'll go look."
"You do that." He returned to his study of his drink, muttering darkly to himself. "Let me contemplate my unpleasant future."
"Oh, hush. You're the Six-Pack Cable, remember? I can't KILL you." Her eyes glinted. "Not unless I branched off into an alternate timeline--nah. Juggling too many as is. So don't worry, you're safe."
He gave her a level look. "That's not particularly reassuring. Besides, killing me would be too EASY, wouldn't it?"
"And not nearly as much fun." Alicia gave in to another giggling fit as she headed towards the back of the bar. Cable sighed, shaking his head and taking another sip of his iced coffee.
I wonder if I could possibly find myself another writer. Or at least get DuAnn to work on 'Stayin' Alive' again. There had to be some way he could avoid all the mental anguish and physical punishment. Alicia was bound to heap on him. He HAD heard some of her ideas for future stories in that series--Cable shuddered at the memory.
A few minutes later, another shadow fell across his table. More than one, actually. He looked up, flinching automatically as five sets of Askani eyes pinned him to his chair. *Oath--* He started to seriously consider the merits of shooting himself now.
"Haven't seen you ladies in a few weeks," he said with a casual diffidence that was entirely feigned. "Although Alicia did say she was working on True Believers again--"
"The Writer, she is where?" Miriya demanded. "Made me into a psionic necromant, she did!"
"Oh, and like I've got it any better?" Hana demanded. "I'm still playing with that oaf Olivares in Paris! All the plot is just passing me by!"
Tyris gave her a poisonous smile. "Isn't that a shame?"
"Shut up, you naive--"
"Call me names, heretic, and I'll rip your tongue out!"
"Sisters," Shavrin said imploringly, but trailed off as Sulven, beside her, slung a companionable arm around her shoulders.
"Not to worry," the older Askani said comfortingly. "They won't kill each other. Yet."
Tyris and Hana whirled. "YET?" they shrieked in unison.
Cable sunk his face into his hands. "May I say, I'm VERY glad I'm not in the same series with all of you?"
"Enough with the comments, it is!" Miriya said imperiously. "Where is she?"
Cable lifted his head, feeling an odd smile growing on his face. "Right back there," he said pleasantly, gesturing at where Alicia was emerging from the back hall with a very harried-looking counterpart of his in tow. "Have fun, sisters."
He glanced over his shoulder, just to see her face when the Askani descended on her. Alicia gave him one outraged look, and then turned her sweetest smile on the outraged Askani. He turned back around, chuckling softly to himself.
All was fair in love and fanfic.
fin