For The Good Of The Team

by Lise

"But... it's only one more, and that's even French Vanill--"

"NO. Absolutely not. Over my dead body."

"... that could be arranged, you know, Drake. Give. Me. The. Pot."

"No...?"

"That's it..." Cable bounced over the table with a single leap, and landed in front of a very surprised, and slightly scared, Bobby Drake. Their faces were inches apart, and Bobby resisted the urge to back up a bunch. Cable wouldn't kill him-- first of all, Jean and Remy would get majorly pissed off. Second, he didn't really think Cable killed many people. If any.

And hurting him would make more squeaking, and he might drop the pot, and that would be Very Bad for Cable, so he probably wouldn't hurt him even... just really stare him down, and maybe look menacing a bit...

"I don't need to do anything to get that pot of coffee, do I Drake? You're going to give it to me. NOW."

Bobby glanced to his right, and tried to judge how fast he'd have to sprint to the door before Cable threw his mug. *Too fast for you, pal. Hand it over. Now.*

Bobby held the espresso pot tightly against his chest, and looked up at Cable. "I can't. You know that saying no to you is the *last* thing I ever want to do, but Jean'll have my head." Under his breath, he muttered, "All I did was come for a blasted visit, and I end up baby-sitting an overgrown Summers older'n me, with an affectation to drink too much over priced beverages. Because I'm a sucker for Jean, and Remy, team leader he is, has something more important to do. Like laundry." With a final grumble, he added, " 'For the good of th'team, Bobby. Please' You bastard, LeBeau."

Cable leaned forward, and Bobby wrapped his arms around the pot. "I'm not joking, Drake. I've had a very, very bad day... Give. That. To. Me."

"Stay back, hands off, or it gets iced, Cable... I don't want to do it, but..."

Bobby watched Cable's expression go from crazed-menacing to horrified. "You wouldn't."

"Just try me." It was a corny line, but it would have to do. Bobby tried to look deadly serious while darting his eyes around, desperately looking for a way out.

Cable took a cautious step back, and then another one. The sunshine outside slanted through the blinds, and fell on his face in a lined pattern. "Okay, Drake. You want to play hardball? Let's deal."

Bobby relaxed a little bit. The twitching in Cable's fingers hadn't lessened any, but his eyes had started looking a little less like saucers and a little more like normal eyes. "You need to calm down, Cable, or it's my ass. That means No Coffee. None. I've got strict orders... not for the rest of the day."

Cable's eyes narrowed, and he looked dangerously close to pouting. "I'm a grown man, Drake. I can make my own decisions."

Bobby shook his head, still clutching a now-minimally-warm pot of coffee to his chest. "Nuh-uh. I don't think so." He muttered, "You think I *want* to risk health and sanity to baby-sit you? If Jean and Remy hadn't--"

"But you're not a part of the team, not really, anymore."

Bobby blinked. That was true. Cable continued encouragingly, "And you're leaving this evening... they won't even be back until then..."

With clarity, Bobby understood what Cable was trying to pull, but honestly didn't care. It was all TRUE, after all. He was taking orders from a team leader of a team he wasn't even officially ON anymore. It wasn't fair.

More than that, it was crazy, and going to get him hurt. From a very large, very telekinetic, man -- whose eyes were seriously saying 'I'm a bit deranged.' He tossed the pot in Cable's direction, and grinned at the little whimper he gave before catching it effortlessly. The menacing smile turn to a grateful one, and Bobby fled the kitchen when he started drinking straight from the pot.

Now, as long as Jean and Remy didn't get back before he was well on his way somewhere far, far elsewhere, the day would be alright.

There was a loud crash, and a louder curse, issued from the direction of the kitchen, and Bobby picked up his pace down the hall. Not that he was in the line of fire anymore... Cable didn't care about him anymore.

Still, one couldn't be too careful.

back to Lise's stories | Dayspring archive | comicfic.net