Summer Rain

by Alicia McKenzie

After all these years, Christopher Summers still wasn't totally used to the sensation of teleporting. Humanoids weren't meant to have their atoms broken down and reassembled, however efficient the process was. It always left him feeling vaguely dizzy.

Hepzibah never seemed to have the same problem. She blinked around at their new surroundings, wrinkling her nose. "Rains always when we come here, Chris," his felinoid lover complained, glaring at him before she turned back to peer at the mansion. "Like it not."

And it certainly was raining. Quite enthusiastically, as a matter of fact. Chris chuckled. "Remind me to complain to Raza about his aim when we get back to the ship," he said wryly, shielding his eyes as he peered up at the ominously black sky. "For now, let's just run for it, shall we?"

As they dashed across the lawn towards the front door of the mansion, it opened. His son stepped out, Jean right behind him, and a telekinetic shield was thoughtfully interposed to shield them from the growing downpour.

#Teleportational coordinates a little off?# Jean asked soliticiously as they reached the porch.

Chris gave his daughter-in-law a lopsided grin. "Apparently," he said. "Wonderful weather you're having here, kids."

"Inside we go, Chris?" Hepzibah demanded irritably, looking drenched and miserable as she shook water from her tail.

Jean gave her a sympathetic look. "Of course," she said, bustling Hepzibah inside without another word. "Rude of us to keep you standing out here in this--it's just so wonderful to see you both! It's been too long."

"Likewise, Jean." Chris shot Scott a rueful look as his son motioned for him to precede him into the house. "Raza's going to be hearing about this little blooper for a while--Zee hates getting wet," he confided.

Hepzibah shot a disgusted look back over her shoulder at him. "So would you, had you fur, Christopher," she grumbled.

Jean gave him a reproving look, although she was clearly trying to repress a smile. "I'm sorry the weather has to be so lousy for your visit," she said regretfully. "It's not supposed to stop anytime soon, either."

"Well, I came to see my son and my new daughter-in-law, not the sights," Chris joked as the four of them headed towards the living room. Jean stopped at a closet halfway down the hall, producing towels. Hepzibah snatched the one Jean offered her with a few muttered words of thanks, and began to towel her hair dry vigorously.

Scott smiled slightly. "Still kicking yourself for not making it to the wedding, Dad?" he asked tolerantly.

Chris swallowed the wildly inappropriate comment about 'one out of two' not being bad, but Jean gave him a mildly amused look, as if she'd overheard anyways. He coughed, trying to ignore the color rising in his cheeks.

#It's all right, Chris. Sort of refreshing to encounter a Summers with a sense of humor--# Her 'voice' was sly. #However misplaced it might be.#

"Dad?" Scott asked concernedly as he continued to cough, trying desperately to cover laughter. "Are you all right?"

"Just fine, Scott," Corsair managed, wheezing slightly. "Guess--I must not be used to good old Terran air these days."

#Nice save, Chris.#

Would you please quit that? he thought at her almost plaintively, frantically composing his features. A mental chuckle was his only answer as Jean turned to Hepzibah, offering to scrounge up a change of clothes if she wanted.

Hepzibah declined with unusual courtesy. "Not that wet, really," she admitted grudgingly.

"Well, let me know if you change your mind," Jean said pleasantly, and opened the door to the living room for them. "Let's all go in and sit down, shall we? We've got a lot of catching up to do," she said, her tone a little odd all of a sudden.

The room was empty--almost. Its sole occupant, a tall, silver-haired man who seemed at first glance to be Chris's own age or thereabouts, was standing in the middle of the room, watching some sort of news program on the television. As soon as they came in, he used the remote control to turn the set off, and turned towards them, regarding them with an unreadable expression.

Chris raised an eyebrow, not recognizing the man from any of the various incarnations of the team. New addition, maybe--shows me how out of touch I've been. The man gave him a oddly sardonic smile, leaving Chris a little puzzled. Is his eye glowing? Chris wondered, studying him a little more closely.

"Umm--Dad," Scott started, sounding hugely uncomfortable. Chris turned, frowning at his son's strained expression. "There's something--well, the thing is--"

"Why don't I save us all the trouble of listening to Scott sputter?" the stranger said dryly. He stepped forward, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you, finally. Gramps."

Chris didn't take the offered hand. "Gramps?" he said incredulously, shooting a dubious look at Scott and Jean. "What the hell--?"

Jean bit her lip, giving the tall stranger a thoroughly irritated look that kept threatening to dissolve into a helpless grin. "Did I never teach you any manners?"

Chris, absolutely bewildered, turned back to the stranger. That sardonic smile reappeared on the taller man's face, but Chris realized abruptly that it was just a mask, hiding something else, something deeper that he didn't want to exhibit for everyone to see. Chris knew that sort of mask on sight. He'd worn it often enough himself, after all.

And the man's eyes--my God. One was glowing, a faint golden luminescence barely visible in the dim room, but the other was gray, the gray of the ocean on a cloudy day.

The same gray Kate's had been.

"Christopher Summers," Jean said softly, "meet Nathan Christopher Summers. Your grandson."

***

"I need an aspirin," Chris said dazedly, almost a full hour and a half later.

"Welcome to the club, Dad," Scott said wryly, his voice a little hoarse. He'd done most of the talking, Nathan occasionally stepping in to clarify some of the more thorny points of temporal mechanics. But Scott had seemed peculiarly determined to get the whole story, or as much of it as he could, out by himself. Almost as if it was some kind of personal penance, Chris thought distractedly.

"Join the Summers family. Get a bulk discount on Advil." Nathan smirked, and then gave Jean an offended look as she swatted him. "What?" he growled, half in amusement, half in indignation.

"You're projecting a very perverse sort of sadistic glee," she said with an absolutely straight face. "Stop it. It isn't polite." He rolled his eyes at her and she chuckled.

"No, quite all right," Chris said, shaking his head. "I think I'd enjoy dropping that on people, too. Just to see the expression on their faces." He gave a rueful smile. "Mine must be a sight at the moment."

That smirk reappeared on Nathan's face. "Yours? It was the 'I'm sure I'm going to wake up any minute' variation. Not nearly as fun as the 'get the straitjacket' look, but still not bad--"

Hepzibah, eyes narrowed, finally snorted. "Have it clear, I think. Maybe." She eyed Chris speculatively. "Strange family you have."

"Oh, feel free to consider it your family too, Zee," Chris said with a shaky grin. "That would what, make you Nathan's step-grandmother?"

Hepzibah gave Nathan a measuring look, and then sniffed. "Can fight?" she demanded. "Yes?" Jean blinked at the question, and Chris fought the urge to sink his face into his hands, but Nathan only smiled.

"Some say so," he said in a perfectly even voice, and then continued in word-perfect Mephisitoid. "I would offer to demonstrate, but it would be impolite to challenge a guest. Unless you wished it."

Hepzibah tilted her head thoughtfully, and for a minute, Chris half-expected her to take him up on it. "Umm--maybe we could save the individual combat for AFTER dinner?" he suggested a little wildly. He gave his grandson a puzzled look. "Where'd you pick up Mephisitoid, by the way?"

"Just now," Nathan said laconically.

Oh, he picked it up telepathically from Zee--neat trick. "So you CAN use your abilities, then?" Chris asked hesitantly, glancing at Nathan's left arm. "Even with this--virus?"

"To an extent," Nathan said with a faint smile. "Pushing the envelope a little further every day." He flexed his techno-organic hand and then stood, walking over to the windows and staring out at the storm.

Chris straightened in his chair at Nathan's sudden retreat--and it was a retreat, he could see that. This is probably as hard for him as it is for me, he realized. Damn, what a mess. Bad enough that he'd missed his children's childhoods. Now, faced with a grandson who had to be his contemporary, at least, the sense of loss was only redoubled. Time played the most damnable tricks on you.

"Have a mate?" Hepzibah suddenly asked, staring at Nathan. "Cubs?"

Nathan suddenly stiffened, and Corsair frowned worriedly at how abruptly Jean's expression went neutral. "Subject change maybe, Zee?" he suggested quietly. Hepzibah blinked at him, but, amazingly enough, didn't protest.

#Nathan was married,# Jean's voice said quietly in his mind. #She was killed, before he ever came back to this time. And their son--Tyler--is out there somewhere.#

"Incidentally, calling himself Genesis and playing at being the heir of Apocalypse," Nathan said in a cold, very distant voice. "But let's not get into that, shall we?"

Jean flinched. "Nathan--" she started softly, apologetically.

"No, everything's fine. We're just catching up, right?" Nathan said emotionlessly. "Good and bad--all just catching up." Thunder rumbled outside, as if in emphasis, and Nathan shook his head. "This was a bad idea," he said tensely, turning around. His eye was glowing more brightly, almost spitting sparks. "Nice to meet you, Corsair, but I've got a mission to plan--"

"Nate, hold on," Scott said awkwardly, half-rising out of his chair. Nathan shook his head at him angrily as he headed for the door.

"I don't have the patience or the time to deal with any of this right now, Cyclops," Nathan snapped. Scott actually flinched at the use of his codename, and Chris did get up, moving to intercept Nathan before he could reach the door.

"Now, you just wait a minute, mister!" he barked. Nathan stopped short, glaring at him, and Chris almost took a step backwards. There was an almost terrifying intensity in those strange yet painfully familiar eyes, but, again, that was just the surface. Chris could see something else lurking beneath it, a hurt so deeply submerged that he wondered if Nathan even knew it was there. "You think this is any easier for the rest of us?" Chris demanded.

Nathan spat something in a curiously melodic language Chris had never heard before. "Oath, what you do you all want from me?" he demanded, shifting his weight restlessly. Chris got the sense of a cornered animal, about to bolt. "Why rehash all of this? What flonqing point does it serve?" The more agitated he got, the brighter his eye glowed, and the air pressure in the room seemed to change subtly, grow more oppressive.

Jean suddenly stood up, staring at Nathan intently. "Wait a minute," she said softly, her green eyes wide. "This is about Rachel, isn't it?"

It was a total non sequitur, but it sent a real chill of fear through Chris. "Wait a minute," he said with his best forbidding scowl, his heart lurching in his chest. "What the hell happened to Rachel?"

"An object lesson in how idiotic it was for either of us to pretend we could belong to this family," Nathan snarled almost feverishly. "Her and I--blood or no blood, we can't be part of what all of you have here and now, don't you understand that?"

"Nathan--she chose to trade places with Brian in the timestream," Jean said, almost soothingly. She shot a glance at Chris, and he swayed slightly as images flashed through his mind, Jean showing him what had happened to his 'granddaughter'--the sacrifice she had chosen to make for her teammate. Chris's eyes stung with tears that he didn't bother to even try and blink away. Ah, damn--the poor kid. "Her choice--no one forced her to make it. You know that, Nate," Jean said even more gently, her expression troubled.

"She was happy!" It was a cry from the heart, and Chris flinched at the pain in it. "We talked, at the wedding--oath, Jean, she was glowing almost as much as you were. I was going to visit Muir again, we were going to try and figure out what this connection between us was all about--" Nathan swallowed, the light in his left eye fading, the right bright with unshed tears. "I won't do this anymore," he said harshly. "What's the good of rebuilding bonds if they're just going to get snapped again the next time the universe remembers it's got a mad-on for the Summers family? What's the flonqing point?"

"Blood's blood," Hepzibah suddenly put in, with uncharacteristic soberness. "Can't make it go away, cub. Can't pretend you don't feel it pulling." She stood up with that lithe feline grace that had attracted Chris to her since the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. "Be glad you have family. Better than not, no?"

Bless you, Zee. Chris looked back up at his grandson, seeing the anger begin to waver, fraying around the edges. "I tell you, Nathan, I've got to agree with Zee," he said, his voice coming out a little hoarser than usual. "Scott ever tell you that I just missed watching your mother give birth to you?" The memory of that day, accompanying Lilandra on her search for Xavier, caming flooding back so vividly that he was momentarily taken aback. He hadn't known until afterwards that he'd become a grandfather that day.

"No," Nathan said through gritted teeth. "He did tell me HE missed it, though--" Scott winced, flushing, and Jean gave Nathan a piercing look. He glared right back at her, and Chris could only imagine what the two of them were saying to each other telepathically. "Fine," Nathan suddenly snapped, aloud, and went and sat back down.

Chris sighed, and gave Jean a questioning look. She smiled faintly. "I should go check on dinner," she said softly. "Anyone for coffee? And yes, Nathan, I know I don't need to ask--" Her voice was suddenly teasing, and Chris was surprised to see a faint smile flicker across Nathan's face.

"Nathan lives on coffee," Scott said dryly. "I offered to have Hank set him up an IV, once. I think he thought I was making a joke."

"And I think I'm in the room, Scott, so you don't need to refer to me in the third person," Nathan murmured. Jean swatted him lightly as she left the room.

"Manners,"

"Yes, 'Mom'."

Shaking his head, Chris came back and sat down, too. Hepzibah gave him a thoughtful look and then sank back into her own chair, muttering to herself. "Coffee, huh?" Chris asked Nathan, who nodded wearily. "I miss coffee."

Hepzibah blinked at him. "Food synthesizers make coffee, Chris," she pointed out. "Took all that time programming them, you did."

"Not REAL coffee though, Zee."

Scott suddenly smiled. "Maybe it's genetic," he said to Nathan, who snorted.

***

"Too bad your brother couldn't have made it," Corsair said to Scott after dinner. Jean had 'politely' asked Nathan to stay and help her clean up in the kitchen--right, and judging by the look on her face, if he ISN'T getting a lecture, I'm Majestor Shi'ar!--while he and Scott and Zee had gone back to the living room. Hepzibah stood at the window, staring moodily out at the rain and ignoring him and Scott. Her version of giving them some space, Chris knew. "What is Alex up to these days, anyway? And speaking of which, where is everyone else? I don't recall this place ever being so empty."

"To answer your questions in order, Alex is still with X-Factor. As for the rest of the mansion, the team's a little understrength these days. Besides, everyone thought we needed a little space for a few hours," Scott said with a faint smile. "To--um, catch up. So they all made excuses to be out and about for a while. I wouldn't be too surprised to see everyone start trickling back and dropping in to say hello soon, though." Scott chuckled. "Nathan actually sent X-Force out to see a movie."

"X-Force?"

"His team. The former New Mutants--I did tell you that, remember, Dad?" Scott asked with a tolerant chuckle. "Not that I blame you for not retaining the whole thing."

"I have my moments of senility. So, he's following in your footsteps, eh?" Chris asked, wondering if Scott was happy about that or not. "Leading another team following Xavier's dream--"

"Well, not really. X-Force has--a different guiding philosophy," Scott said, and then snorted. "Oh, there's a polite euphemism--let's just call them unusually proactive, shall we? Charles has been working on integrating them into our operations ever since he invited them to live here at the mansion. With things going downhill as quickly as they are, having a--strikeforce around isn't a bad idea." He shook his head slowly. "Never thought I'd hear myself saying that," he concluded soberly. "I suppose that tells you how bad things are."

Chris studied his son somberly. Sometimes it felt wrong, to be throwing himself into helping the Kree refugees--strangers, however deserving of help they were--while his sons--his family--were back here on Earth, fighting a bloody, desperate war of their own. He liked to tell himself that his life was elsewhere, had been for years now, but it was growing less and less convincing as time went by.

Scott smiled. "Dad--I know that expression. Don't kick yourself, okay? From what you've told me, what you're doing with the Kree is just as important as anything you could do if you were here."

It was a kind thing to say, Chris reflected. "I suppose we all have to believe that what we're doing is important," he said slowly, sipping at his coffee. And damn, it was good coffee. Nathan had said something about a 'special blend' at dinner, some kind of vaguely wistful inside joke Chris hadn't quite gotten. "Hard to keep going, otherwise."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, Chris mulling over the events of the evening so far. It was certainly a lot to absorb. Some things more than others, he reflected--and started to chuckle helplessly.

"What?" Scott asked confusedly.

"The term 'endless honeymoon' keeps coming back to mind," Chris confessed, grinning. "Good grief, Scott--"

"It wasn't exactly endless," Scott reminded him, a smile tugging at his lips. "Only twelve years--too short, really, all things considered." He sighed, leaning back into the chair. "I may not have had any choice about it, but still, leaving was--" His voice trailed off.

Chris regarded his son sympathetically. "Probably felt pretty much the same as your mother and I did when we had you and Alex jump out of that plane," he said gently. Scott nodded slowly, but still said nothing, and Chris sighed. "Scott. You said it yourself. You and Jean had no choice in the matter."

Scott half-shrugged. "I suppose so," he said, sounding unconvinced. "At least you know, now, what happened to Alex and I afterwards--what our lives were like. Nate's not much into--sharing." Scott's jaw settled into a bitter line. "But I do know what the world I left him in was like. I can make a few educated guesses--"

"Do you think knowing helps?" Chris asked. "Knowing only means you know what you've missed."

"Well, I'd still like to know," Scott admitted with a sigh. He snorted. "Call me a masochist, I guess. Not that it does me any good--getting any information out of Nathan's like pulling teeth. On a good day, that is."

"Secretive, is he?" Chris chuckled. "Didn't get that from our side of the family--"

"No," Scott said, his voice suddenly dry. "It's a learned behaviour, as Hank would put it. Comes from being indoctrinated into believing that he's supposed to save the world, I think."

"These--Askani," Chris said. Here we come to the sticky part, he thought gravely. Scott did not like Nathan's unspecified 'mission', not at all. Chris had realized that just by the way Scott had looked at Nathan, frustrated and almost afraid, when he'd come to that part of the story. "Rachel's--"

"Yes, Rachel's. And that's something that really bothers me, Dad. She saved his life, not just when she sent that woman back for him when he was first infected with the virus as a baby, but at least one other time that I know of, while she was in that coma. Maybe even more, I'm not sure." Scott's hand tightened around his mug, white-knuckled. "But she died, Dad, and whoever carried on her 'work' afterwards--I don't think they thought about what he needed, or what this--responsibility they dropped on his shoulders would do to him."

"Which is what?" Chris asked, leadingly, as he realized that Scott REALLY needed to talk. Not just about Nathan, but about Rachel too. He's lost one child, the other's older than he is--what I had to cope with seems like nothing in comparison. Time travel. You had to love it.

"He's secretive, like you said. Testy one minute, cold the next. So damned detached, underneath it all--hell, Dad, he works so hard to keep that distance between him and the rest of us, it's almost scary." He sighed again. "I think that's why he reacted like he did to you. He still fights Jean and I every step of the way, even now that he knows we were 'Slym' and 'Redd'--and don't even get me started on how he figured that out before we told him, I have no idea."

"He strikes me as pretty quick, you know--"

"Too quick for his own good, I think," Scott said with a sort of grim amusement. "You start to broach any sensitive subjects--which, for Nate, is just about anything except the weather and what he had for breakfast--and he's out the door before the words are out of your mouth." Scott shook his head slowly. "He might have talked to Rachel," he said painfully. "Like he said, they had this--connection, to each other. But they never got the chance--none of us did, with her." Scott winced.

"Rachel must have been glad she could bring the three of you together, though," Chris suggested lightly. "Even if she couldn't share it."

"I'm not so sure she didn't," Scott said with a sudden smile, and Chris straightened in his chair, relieved to see his son coming out of that dark mood. "Apparently she had some kind of psi-link with Nate during those twelve years. Teaching him, keeping him out of trouble--her body might have been in a coma, but her mind didn't waste the time." His smile turned a little ironic. "What I ever did to deserve such DRIVEN children, I don't know--"

"They take after their old man."

"Oh, thanks, Dad--"

***

Scott was right, and his teammates did start trickling back eventually. Most of them did come in to greet him and Hepzibah, quite sincerely glad to see them again, although Chris thought he spied real curiosity in some of the looks he got. Wondering how I handled the 'news', probably, he thought with a chuckle, smiling at Storm where she stood across the room talking to Hank McCoy. Ororo was as lovely and dignified as ever. I think Worthington and a few of the others thought they'd come in here and find me gibbering. Cute. I wonder how many of THEM took it in stride--

"Chris," Logan growled amiably, coming up to him. Chris had seen him come in earlier, but he'd lost sight of him. The X-Men didn't look to be TOO 'understrength' to him, and with the addition of X-Force--a group of youngsters who all carried themselves with the sort of brash, confident competence that made him pretty damned sure that he'd never want to face them in a fight--the living room was getting crowded.

"Logan," Chris said, giving Logan an intent look. Scott had mentioned the incident with Sabertooth and Wolverine's fondess for the backyard these days, so he was a little surprised to see him here.

"Met your grandson, then."

It wasn't quite a question, and Chris grinned. "Yeah. Bit of a shock."

"I bet." Logan snorted.

"Scott did tell me that you and Nathan don't get along all that well."

Logan gave a grating laugh. "He and I were buttin' heads long before either of us had ever heard of the X-Men," he said. "That ain't likely to change anytime soon. Although, I gotta admit, it sort of takes the fun out of it when I know I can't really get into it without gettin' Jeanie on my case."

Chris nodded slowly, watching Jean and Nathan. They were over in the corner of the room, staring at each other. Having a telepathic conversation of some sort, he assumed. "You'd never know she wasn't really his mother, the way she acts."

"She raised him for twelve years, didn't she?" Logan pointed out acerbically. "Makes him more of a mother to him than Maddie was." Chris winced. Even knowing what had happened, he still couldn't quite reconcile it with his memories of Madelyne. Taking on the Goblin Queen persona, actually trying to kill her own son to bring Limbo to Earth--no, that wasn't the Madelyne he remembered. What came to mind, when he thought of his son's first wife, was Madelyne's face as she stood on the bridge of the Starjammer, weeping with joy as she stared down at the Earth.

"I suppose," Chris said quietly. "But even so, Logan, she was his mother."

"Didn't mean it that way, Corsair--hell, if you've got good memories of Madelyne, you oughta share them with Nate. Maddie's not a subject any of us ever felt comfortable talking to him about. Cyke least of all."

"Maybe I will," Chris said, seeing Nathan nod at Jean almost brusquely and then head over to the window, opening it. "Excuse me, Logan."

He made his way through the room, nodding at Xavier, returning Hank McCoy's grin and Elizabeth Braddock's calm smile. He saw Zee talking with a few of the X-Force kids, grinning unnervingly at the one who'd introduced himself as Shatterstar--the one who'd walked in carrying a sword as if it was his security blanket. Note to self, Chris thought wryly. If you can't find Zee when you leave, check the Danger Room.

"I see it's finally stopped raining," he said as he reached his grandson's side. He peered out, smiling faintly at the sky. "Even clearing up--I think I see a star or two." Nathan grunted, not meeting his eyes, and Chris grinned wryly. "You don't say much, do you?"

Nathan eyed him skeptically. "I don't say much? Well, I don't get unsettled and babble just because my long-lost grandfather's trying to provoke me so he can take my measure, no--"

"Another telepath in the family. Gotta love it."

"Believe it or not, Corsair--"

"Chris, preferably," Chris said, his grin growing. "Unless you're really stuck on 'Gramps' for some reason--"

"--I wasn't reading your mind." Nathan's mouth quirked, so briefly that Chris thought he might have been seeing things. "I always thought you could learn more from looking in someone's eyes than you could from digging in their thought. Haven't changed my opinion on that, either, even if I am using my telepathy more often these days."

"I see your grandmother when I look into your eyes," Chris said, almost involuntarily, and then wished he could take it back. Even after all this time, all these happy--if eventful--years with Hepzibah, thinking of Kate still hurt. And he certainly didn't want to make Nathan any more uncomfortable than he already was.

But Nathan was just staring at him, his eyes unfocusing. "I know the feeling," he said distantly. "Some memories don't get any less--painful with age."

Chris swallowed. "Your wife?" he ventured. "Jean said--"

"She died in my arms. Our camp was ambushed--I knew something was about to happen, but I didn't get there in time," Nathan said flatly, seeming to come back to himself, as if he'd briefly stepped outside his own body. "Precognitive flickers aren't much good when they come too late."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago." The words were cold, almost indifferent. "I just wanted to tell you that I understood."

Chris shook his head, turning back to the window. "You're a hard man to get a handle on, Nathan." More going on under there than met the eye, obviously, and Chris was beginning to suspect that it would take one hell of a crowbar to get underneath all the armor and find out.

"Anyone in the room could have told you that." The wind was picking up, scattering the cloud cover. More stars were visible, now. "I used to have a space station, did Scott tell mention that?" Cable asked in a much quieter voice. That edge of hostility was gone.

"No, actually," Chris said thoughtfully, studying him out of the corner of his vision. Where's this going?

"My former base of operations. I stole it, actually, but that's another story." Nathan shot a sideways look at him, as if daring him to comment, but Chris managed to limit himself to an appreciative chuckle. "Magneto and the Acolytes were squatting in it, up until recently--"

"Oh?"

"Umm--never mind. Greymalkin's free-floating debris at the moment, anyway." Nathan stared back out at the stars, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I miss it. Used to be the only place where I could hear myself think."

There was a definite edge of longing there. Chris could hear it perfectly. Hear it, and understand it. He'd grown accustomed to the silence of the stars himself. The thought of being totally deprived of it was suprisingly painful.

He thought for a moment. Should I? he wondered. Aw, what the hell. No harm in trying. "You know, I once offered Scott and Alex a place in my crew, if they wanted," he said casually, battling the sense of deja vu. "Seems only right, to make you the same offer." Scott had been so concerned about how 'fixated' Nathan was. Maybe the answer was a change of scenery. "My motives aren't entirely altrustic," he said slyly. "From the sounds of it, you'd make a pretty damned fine addition to the Starjammers."

Nathan's eyebrows had migrated to somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline, and Chris chuckled at how quickly his grandson got his expression back under control. "Temptation, get thee away," Nathan muttered a little wildly.

"I was being serious," Chris pointed out, surprised by how much the idea appealed to him. All blood relationship aside, his instincts were telling him that the man standing beside him was someone he'd like to know better. Kinship came in a lot of different shapes.

"I don't--I--" Nathan turned, looking around at the room and its occupants, his gaze lingering longest on the X-Force kids and the pale, dark-haired woman who'd introduced herself as Domino. She gave him a quizzical look, but he waved a hand at her distractedly. "I--"

"You don't have to decide this second--"

"I wish I could," Nathan finished awkwardly, looking back at him. "Oath, you have no idea how much I wish I could say yes." For a heartbeat, the look in his eyes was that of a trapped man, struggling towards some distant light, but it disappeared instantly, replaced by wistful longing. "But I can't. Too much to do here."

"Look," Chris said, quite seriously. "Grandfather or not, I know I've got no right to tell you how to run your life, Nathan. But neither does anyone else. You choose for yourself, right?"

"Believe me--Chris, I've never done anything else." Nathan's expression turned almost mischievous for a moment. "Oh, I get it. Scott's given you the line about 'poor indoctrinated Nate' and his 'messiah complex'?"

Chris folded his arms across his chest. "Are you saying he was wrong?" he asked, in amusement.

"Oath, no." Yes, that was mischief in those strange eyes, a wickedness that reminded him, yet again, of Kate in one of her rare fiendish moods. "I am fixated. AND obsessive. But only because I choose to be. I may walk the path that other people have laid out for me, but I walk it MY way. Gramps."

Chris gave him one incredulous look, and then burst into laughter. "Remind me to go check Scott for gray hairs. There's GOT to be at least a few--"

"Cut me some slack. I'm making up for lost time here."

"And enjoying it FAR too much."

"What can I say? I am what I am." Cable grinned, a shark's baring of teeth that nonetheless had a great deal of honest humor in it. "And since I'm a irritating, bewildering, headache-inducing example of temporal mechanics in all their twisted glory, I might as well act the part."

[FOOTER]