True Believers: Part Fifteen
"Ground level," Cecilia said crisply as they stepped into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, she gave Nate a crooked smile. "So, was it really that bad?"
Nate flushed. "Sorry, Cecilia. Didn't mean to give you a hard time." The physical Cecilia had given him had been fast and efficient, as if she'd known how leery he was of the whole thing. Still, it had made him very uncomfortable. "Nothing personal, believe me. But the doctors on my world tended to have a bedside manner than left a lot to be desired." He thought of his timeline's version of Hank McCoy with distaste.
"I--see.
Nate smiled. She didn't, not really. For all her brusque demeanor, he could sense the desire to help people, to heal, that was so integral a part of her personality. I wonder what happened to her on my world-- Shaking his head, he banished the thought. Even if he'd known her counterpart's fate, comparisons were an easy way to drive himself insane.
"So," Cecilia said briskly, interrupting his reverie. "What do you want to talk to Cable for? To apologize?"
"Apologize?" Nate exclaimed indignantly, before he could help himself. Cecilia's expression became amused.
"I didn't think so. I hope you're not expecting an apology from him, either. Because if you are, I wouldn't hold your breath." Leaning back against the wall as the elevator continued upwards, she grinned. "I wonder if stubbornness is genetic. The two of you seem to have it in spades."
"I don't--" Nate took a deep breath. "Okay, you got me. But if it came to a head-butting contest between me and Cable, I'd win."
Cecilia gave him an ironic look. "You sound pretty sure of yourself for someone who almost ended up drinking all his meals through a straw for the next couple of months."
"Yeah, if it was just him and me without our powers, he could probably take me apart in about two seconds flat." Nate rubbed his jaw ruefully. "Less, probably."
The elevator came to a stop, and Nate, preoccupied by what he intended to say to Cable when they got around to having their 'talk', started unthinkingly through the doors. He hadn't gone two steps when Cable nearly knocked him over.
"Watch where you're going!" Cable snapped. Off-balance, Nate stumbled backwards, realizing too late that they were still on one of the sub-levels. Cable stepped through the doors, his towering presence immediately making the elevator seem cramped.
Straightening, Nate glared at his 'other self'. "It was an accident, old man, so stow the attitude, all right?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized his mistake. Cable looked shaken and upset, his right eye dull with pain even while the left glowed fiercely gold. Reaching out telepathically, Nate frowned at the turmoil he sensed in Cable's mind. Seeing him like this, Nate didn't have any doubt he'd been capable of projecting the empathic jolt Rogue and Cecilia had described.
It still felt strange, to be able to be in close proximity to Cable without being hit by painful feedback. Nate still wasn't sure what had changed. He'd have thought that Cable's lack of shields would've only made the problem worse. Not important right now, he told himself firmly.
His attention was drawn briefly away from Cable as he sensed intense concern coming from Cecilia's direction. "Cable, are you all right?" she asked anxiously.
"Would people stop asking me that?" he snarled, not looking at her. He glared at the control panel, swearing under his breath. "Ground level would be nice anytime now, you flonqing machine!"
"Cable," Cecilia said in a very level voice. "Shouting at the elevator is not going to make it go faster. Why don't you calm down and tell us what's wrong?"
Nate winced as Cable's head whipped around, the glow of his left eye growning more intense, like balefire. Oh, WRONG tone, doc--
"You want to know what's wrong, Dr. Reyes?" Cable's voice was an angry rasp. He flung a hand out in a quick, almost violent gesture to indicate their surroundings. Nate knew he wasn't just talking about the elevator. "All of it! All of you! My whole flonqing life! Is that the answer you want?"
The elevator finally reached ground level. As the doors slid open, Cable glared at Cecilia for a moment longer, and then stalked out of the elevator. Nate muttered a curse under his breath and went after him.
"Cable, wait--"
Cable whirled on him so fast that Nate very nearly threw up a telekinetic shield. "Back off!" he snarled, swaying slightly. The look he gave Nate was just short of murderous.
"Take it easy," Nate said, raising a defensive hand. "I just want to--"
"Get--away from me," Cable grated. He laid a hand against the wall, as if to support himself, and squinted at Nate as if he was having trouble focusing on him. "You're not--I can't--"
He is sounding MAJORLY out of it. Instinctively, Nate telepathically reached out to him once more, this time actually entering his mind to see what was wrong. Maybe if he knew, he could do something to help, like Cable had done for him this morning--
The next thing he knew, Cable had lifted him off the ground by the throat and slammed him into the wall. Dangling helplessly, unable to catch his breath, Nate stared down at him, struggling to muster enough of his telekinesis to free himself. But his mind was still reeling from the failed attempt at a psi-link, and Cable's grip was incredibly strong. All he could manage was a wordless telepathic apology, a bare whisper that he wasn't sure Cable would hear.
Cable blinked. Nate sensed a flash of bewilderment, followed swiftly by distress. Then, Cable's expression turned as cold as it had been angry a moment before. "Don't ever do that again," Cable said in an expressionless voice, and dropped Nate on the floor.
Cable half-staggered away, and Cecilia rushed to Nate's side. "Are you all right?" she asked worriedly as she helped him up. His head spinning, Nate managed to nod. "God, for a second there I thought he was going to--"
"He was," Nate rasped. It hurt to swallow. "But it wasn't me--" Cable had vanished down the hall in the few moments it had taken Nate to get up. "He wasn't seeing me. When he realized, he stopped."
"You're not making any sense!"
Nate scowled, wishing she would be quiet for a second and let him think. He'd touched Cable's mind for an instant, no more, but it had been long enough to let him see some sort of image. Fleeting, blurred--Nate struggled to bring it back. For a second, he had it.
Silver armor. The images of battle he had seen in Cable's memory that morning came rushing back, and Nate felt almost sick.
He thought I was STRYFE?
***
"There's not going to be any problem here, is there?" Kitty asked quietly as they made their way through the mansion towards the front door.
"A problem about what?" Pete asked, sounding uneasy.
"About me coming with you," she said flatly. Pete flushed, looking almost guilty, and she suppressed a sigh. Kitty was honest enough to admit to herself that jumping at the chance to help Hank with the computer had been a way of avoiding this very subject. She wasn't afraid that he'd object, really, it was just--oh, to hell with it. Better to get everything out in the open. "Pete." She reached out and took his arm, and he came to a stop, giving her an oddly anxious look. "Look, I know this might not be the time to bring this up, but--well, something about all of this bothers me."
"Bloody hell, Kitty," he joked weakly, "MOST of this bothers me." She gave him a stern look and he sighed, rubbing briefly at his temples as if he had a headache. "Sorry. Me and my friggin' mouth again--go on."
She couldn't help a smile. "I forgive you," she said dryly. "Hey, after all of your escapades today, interrupting me ranks fairly low on the list of things I should get pissed off about."
Pete flushed again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry I ran off like a bloody idiot--I'm sorry I didn't have the friggin' presence of mind to ask Nate to unlock the com system so I could tell you what was happening and ask you to meet us somewhere. I don't know how to explain, Kitty. I just--"
"Did exactly what half the people around Jean did," Kitty said, and then blinked, irritated, as Pete gave her a baffled look. "That didn't come out right," she said, exasperated. "Pete, don't you think it's just a little strange that so many of the X-Men immediately fell into line and went after Cable like he was some kind of enemy loose in the mansion?"
"Well--I guess," Pete said doubtfully. "Pryde, where are you going with this?"
"Bear with me. They went off half-cocked, as if Jean's overprotectiveness was a contagious disease, or something." Kitty scowled. "This still isn't coming out right. But there were a lot of people acting VERY strange, you have to admit. And you--you obviously realize that you should have told me what you were doing, you stupid git, so I could help," she said severely, waggling a finger at him. Pete regarded it as if it were a deadly weapon. "So why didn't you?"
He frowned, looking very troubled all of a sudden. "Bloody hell. I wanted to--it kept coming back to me. But I just--all I could think of was getting Nate out of here. It was like I wasn't--"
"Thinking," Kitty said crisply. Pete stared at her for a moment longer, and then nodded. His eyes suddenly widened.
"You're not saying that the two of them were telepathically yanking the lot of us around, are you?" He winced. "Jean projecting 'take him out for his own good' and Nate projecting 'get me the bloody hell out of here?' or some such friggin' thing?"
"No, I'm not," she said quickly. That was jumping to conclusions, although her suspicions did lay in that direction. "Pete, I'm no expert on telepathy. I'm just trying to figure out what I was seeing. True, that is a possibility--"
"'It's not what I want, it's what Jean wants,'" Pete muttered. She raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged, still looking upset by her suggestion. "The kid--Nate Grey, said that just before Nathan nearly broke his bloody jaw. Thought it was a little strange, myself--" He shook his head. "Say you're right, Kitty. Why would it be just me affected by Nathan? Wouldn't Domino or Guthrie have been--"
"I don't know, Pete," she said with a sigh. "It's just a suggestion, like I said." She shrugged. "Even if that is what happened, maybe what each person chose to do was influenced by what they were thinking at the time, or something. Anyways, we're not talking about Cable or Jean taking over someone's mind and controlling them like a puppet. No, if this really happened, it was a lot more--subtle. Cable's powers are in such a mess, I don't think he could have been CONSCIOUSLY manipulating you--"
"He wouldn't do that." Pete's voice was so flat that Kitty was taken aback.
"Okay, I believe you. And I would HOPE Jean wouldn't have been doing it deliberately, either--maybe it was just strong emotion, or something." She sighed. "How much do any of us know about how psi-powers work, really? After Onslaught--" She shook her head, banishing the thought, and continued crisply. "I think I'll talk to Dana, before we go. Maybe she noticed something--you're going to be sensible about this, right?" She gave him a level look. "No taking off while I'm packing? No little apologetic notes or anything?" She grinned, to show him that she was just pulling his leg. Once he'd apologized, she'd known that he wasn't going to object to her coming on this mission. Not that I would have let that stop me, anyways.
His answering smile was almost sad. "I may have been acting like a bloody fool before, Kitty, but I do want you to come." Something odd flashed across his expression and was gone before she could identify it. "You might see some things you don't like."
"Pete," she said very patiently, "you have told me lots of things about your past, much of which could fall into that category. Have I run screaming in the other direction yet?"
He suddenly reached out and pulled her against him. "I don't deserve you, you know that?" he said gruffly.
With a relieved smile, she kissed him. "You're damned right you don't, bub," she teased, leaning back. "Now, shouldn't we go greet Miss Kamikaze?"
Pete winced as they continued on towards the door. "Kitty, could you maybe forget you heard that?"
She grinned sideways at him. "Depends. What do I get in return?"
His only answer was a muttered curse, but he reached out and slipped an arm around her waist. Kitty gave a faint sigh, thinking somewhat wistfully of how simple--relatively, that is--their relationship had been not a day ago. He still had more to tell her about his involvment with Cable, she knew that. But she was willing to wait--and keep an watchful eye out for any repeat performances of the weirdness that had been going on today.
***
As Kitty and Pete approached the large, heavily armored plane that had landed on the lawn, a slender, dark-haired young woman in a leather flight jacket came around from the other side of the aircraft and headed towards them. "Hey, Pete!" she said cheerfully. "Long time no see!"
"GWEN?" Pete sputtered, taking a step away from Kitty and staring incredulously at the woman standing before them.
"None other." Gwen Samuels then gave him the impish grin he remembered so clearly, and there was no doubt that it was her. "Put your eyes back in your head, you James Bond rip-off, and give me a hug."
He complied, still fighting off a certain bewilderment. "What the bloody hell happened to you, woman?" he asked gruffly as he stepped back.
"What?" she asked wickedly. "You don't like the new look?"
The last time he'd seen Gwen Samuels, she'd had blue hair, more parts pierced than he wanted to think about, and a fashion sense that would've put the Sex Pistols to shame. "I--didn't say that," he said, and finally remembered that Kitty was standing there. "Ah--Gwen Samuels, Kitty Pryde," he said quickly, feeling his face redden.
"It's nice to meet you," Kitty said with an odd smile that took Pete aback. She didn't look angry or anything, but he didn't entirely trust that particular gleam in her eyes.
"Likewise," Gwen said with a wide smile. Pete noticed Kitty glance at Gwen's hands, for some reason. At which point her smile grew more natural. "You're a lucky woman, Ms. Pryde." She patted Pete's cheek, and he cursed under his breath. "Even if he does have a few rough edges."
"Oh, call me Kitty," Kitty said. "If we're going to be traveling together, we shouldn't be so formal." Her eyes were twinkling, now. "I hear you and Pete had quite an adventure a few years back."
Gwen's eyebrows just about hit her hairline, and she turned an irritated look on Pete. "Good Lord, Wisdom, you're not still bringing that up, are you?" she demanded. "How many times have I apologized now? Ten? Twenty?"
"Umm--"
"All right, you big baby," Gwen said sarcastically, pointing at the plane. "See that plane? That is the latest model of the Athena-class, straight from builder's trials at the Baffin station. The SHIELD Helicarrier couldn't shoot that plane down. I seriously doubt we're going to be crashing it anywhere, Pete."
Pete groaned. She was having entirely too much fun at his expense. "Unless you decide that the tactical situation 'requires' it again--" he muttered resentfully.
"Uh-uh," Gwen said sternly, shaking her head. "My kamikaze days are a thing of the past, Pete. I've got responsibilities now." Grinning, she waggled her left hand at him. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at. The 'old' Gwen had always had unusual tastes in jewelry, particularly rings, to go with her wild wardrobe. But she was wearing only one ring now. A plain golden band on a very specific finger.
"You're MARRIED?"
"Yep," Gwen said cheerfully. "I would've taken Eddie's name--I'm old-fashioned, I suppose--but Gweniver Cruz sounded a little odd to me."
"You're married to CRUZ?" Pete said in a strangled voice, remembering what he'd said to Cruz about Gwen when they'd spoken earlier, and how Cruz had looked entirely too amused for his own good. "Oh, bloody hell--"
Gwen's smile was almost beatific. "While I was refueling, Eddie told me about your conversation. We both laughed particularly hard at the 'bloody lunatic' comment." Gwen suddenly laughed. "You know what's really twisted? Five years ago I would have considered that a compliment. Now it's just funny, in a nostalgic sort of way."
Pete groaned again, wishing there was a hole nearby that he could crawl into. He heard Kitty chuckle, and didn't dare look over at her. His face was undoubtedly red enough as it was.
"We could leave you alone," Kitty suggested. "Takes a while to get your foot out of your mouth when you've crammed it in there up to the knee, I'd guess--"
"Kitty," he protested weakly.
"It's like Dunworthy always says," Gwen said with a straight face. "Give you enough rope to hang yourself, Pete, and you always do a bang-up job. So where's Nathan? Eddie was under the impression that we were in a bit of a hurry, here."
Pete winced. The thought of trying to explain what had happened, especially after Kitty's speculation as to why it had happened, was not appealing.
Gwen sighed. "All right, I know that look. What's going on?"
"We're not--quite ready to go yet, Gwen." When she continued to stare at him, obviously awaiting an explanation, Pete gave her a carefully edited version of what had happened since he'd made the call to Cruz.
***
Cursing steadily under her breath, Domino packed. It was largely a matter of throwing together her uniform and a couple changes of clothes from what she'd brought back from Alaska, and securing the weapons she'd picked up on her mad dash through the armory. A simple packing job by most standards, but she was having trouble doing it and using the psi-link to keep track of Nathan at the same time.
"Sam's not going to let him on that plane until you get there, Domino," Dana said almost tentatively. The young empath was standing in the doorway, watching her with a thoroughly irritating expression of concern.
"I'd rather not test that, Dana," Domino said more sharply than she'd intended. Dana raised an eyebrow. With a sigh, Domino stopped what she was doing and gave the younger woman a quick, apologetic look. "Sorry. I'm on edge."
"So I see," Dana said, and the sympathy in her eyes made Domino wince. "But just trust Sam, all right? He's so good at the innocent farmboy act, I bet you Cable won't even realize he's trying to stall him."
"Dana, Nate's not THAT out of it," Domino muttered, but to her, the joke fell rather flat. Gritting her teeth, she continued her packing.
She'd waited too long to go after Nathan when he'd left the War Room. She hadn't been able to reach the elevator at the other end of the level--some of the forcefields were still active--so she'd gone up through the emergency access, and run into Sam and Dana within moments of reaching ground level. Dana, who'd picked up on what had happened in the War Room, had convinced her that showing up at the plane, ready to go, would be a better idea than chasing after Nathan and trying to continue their 'conversation'.
Domino grimaced. She'd known that, logically, but the voice of logic had been barely a whisper beside the desire to comfort him and the very powerful urge to beat the crap out of him for being such an idiot. Sam had promised to keep Nathan from doing anything stupid like trying to leave without her, but Domino couldn't share Dana's absolute confidence in his ability to do so. Not after what had happened between her and Nathan in the War Room, how close to the edge she'd pushed him.
And she wanted to know what had happened between him and Nate Grey just now. What she'd caught through their psi-link had not been particularly reassuring. Murphy's Law, I suppose, that he'd run into the kid right after he finishes telling me about what his OTHER 'other self' did. Domino thought bleakly as she turned her attention to her weapons.
She glanced restlessly over her shoulder at Dana, who showed no signs of moving from her vantage point at the door. Her steady regard was unsettling, and Domino was already unsettled enough after the events of the day.
"Maybe you should go help Sam," Domino suggested in a neutral voice, mentally counting the number of charges she had for her rifle. "He and Nate tend to get a tad combative when things get tense. It's a bad habit they have, and it's about the last thing we need in a situation like this."
Dana's frown turned into a wry half-smile. "In other words, you want me to leave so that you can have a few minutes to kick yourself in the ass in private." Domino scowled at her, and Dana shrugged, her expression faintly sad. "Me empath, remember? I can feel you second-guessing yourself. Doubt has a very particular--taste to it." She folded her arms across her chest. "He's about the only person in the world who can make you do that, isn't he?" she asked frankly. "Question yourself, I mean."
Domino swallowed, inwardly wincing at how acute Dana's observation was. "You aiming for a career in psychoanalysis, kid?" she asked tartly. Dana's mouth quirked in a half- smile.
"Nah," she said. "I'd be wasted as a shrink. Although with everything that goes on in our lives, maybe--" With a startled blink, she backed out of the doorway and directed a very irritated look to her left. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she said acerbically. Domino frowned, but relaxed as Logan appeared beside Dana.
He snorted. "Not my fault you have trouble sensing me, darlin'. 'Sides, you should've been paying better attention."
"Don't listen to him, Dana," Domino said dryly, trying to cover the sudden and irrational relief she felt at Logan's presence. "He likes sneaking up on people. It's how he gets his kicks."
Logan grumbled something under his breath, and stepped past Dana and into the room. Wearing an old, battered hat, he had a bag slung over his shoulder, and was obviously ready to go. He gave the pile of weapons on Domino's bed a measuring look. "Let me guess. You're in the mood to blow something up?"
"Someone, Logan, and I was fantasizing about something a little more slow and painful than blowing the bastard up," Domino snarled softly. At the door, Dana stiffened, but Logan met Domino's angry gaze without hesitation, his expression somber. "Unfortunately, he's already technically dead, and what little's left of him happens to be sharing a body with Nathan. So I guess a few dozen Dark Riders will have to do."
Logan gave a brief, humorless laugh. "Amen to that, darlin'." He glanced over at Dana almost apologetically. "I don't want you to think I'm trying to get rid of you, Dana--"
Dana grasped his intentions immediately. It really was amazing, Domino thought dully, how perceptive she was. In many ways, she put full telepaths to shame. "No problem," Dana said, her voice dry. "Maybe you can talk some sense into her. She's not listening to me." Her expression tightened with concentration for a moment, and then she nodded briskly. "Cable's still in the mansion," she reported to Domino, obviously trying to reassure her. "Not anywhere near the plane."
"He won't be for a few minutes," Logan said quietly. "Scott and Jeanie were heading in his direction, last I saw."
Dana winced, looking anxious. "Huh. Maybe I should be around--just in case." She looked back at Domino. "Get it all out," she said, too quickly. Domino frowned, but Dana rushed on. "Everything you're feeling. I don't know what he told you--I don't WANT to know--but he's not going to be able to keep it together for too much longer, no matter how hard he tries. Sooner or later, it's all going to come crashing down on him, and then, he's going to need you to be the strong one." She was gone before Domino could say a word.
And she would have to come out with that in front of Logan, wouldn't she? Domino thought with a sigh. Guaranteeing me TWO lectures for the price of one. She gave Logan a measuring look, but he was staring after Dana.
"Eighteen going on fifty," Logan said with a sigh. "Girl never ceases to amaze me--reminds me of another kid I knew, way back when." He gave her a penetrating look. "Are you all right?" he asked bluntly.
"Fine," she said in a neutral voice, turning away. "What are Scott and Jean doing?" she asked a little warily. "Sam and Dana told me they'd backed down."
"Yeah, but you didn't expect them to let him go without a word, did you?" Logan sighed again. "That's going to be one hell of an awkward conversation. I just hope Scott and Red stick with 'good luck' and 'take care', and don't try to argue with him anymore. I don't think he's in the mood to listen." Domino shrugged, and returned her attention to her packing. Logan was silent for a moment. "Did he tell you?" he asked finally.
Domino blinked rapidly, rubbing at her eyes for a moment. "Yes," she said, and her voice was more hoarse than she liked.
"I saw the battle," Logan said very quietly. Domino straightened and looked over at him, part of her very surprised by the mixture of sympathy and frustration in his eyes. "The battle, and what happened afterwards." He scowled. "Did he tell you how it came to that? Why it happened?"
"Yes," she said again, more flatly than she'd intended. He nodded, as if recognizing that she wasn't going to tell him anything further, and she sighed, rubbing her temples. She'd had a pounding headache ever since that last flood of images through the link. "Sorry, Logan. But I just can't get into it."
Logan nodded again. "Suppose I saw enough, anyways," he said. Shaking his head, he growled. "That sick bastard Stryfe--I've seen a lot, Neena, but I've never seen anything as bad as what he did to those people."
"I know," she whispered, cursing as her vision blurred with tears again. "Nate--blames himself. Like this was some sort of unforgivable personal failure on his part." Her hands were shaking, and she set the gun she was holding back down on the bed, very carefully. "He doesn't even care about what they did to him, Logan. He thinks he deserved it!" She bit her lip, hoping she hadn't just given away something Logan hadn't seen, but he merely came up behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders. She didn't dare turn and look at him, but something told her that she hadn't surprised him.
"I got that much," he said softly. "'My fault, I failed them'," he quoted.
"'Please let me die'," Domino finished softly. "You heard it too."
"Yeah."
She wondered what Logan thought about that. Of all the people she'd known in her life, Logan would be the last she'd think could empathize with the desire to die. Living for the sake of living, that was Logan. Each day was a victory, simply because he'd survived whatever the world had thrown at him. The plots of his enemies, the loss of friends and loved ones, even his own feral nature, all were obstacles to overcome.
She remembered something Sam had once told her, about what he and the other X-Men had overheard while they stood helplessly outside Stryfe's dome on the moon. How Stryfe had accused Nathan of being 'stoked by desolation, by isolation, by failure'. He'd been right, Domino thought in a moment of almost painful clarity. The X-Men still thought Nathan had chosen to sacrifice himself that day in order to stop Stryfe. Domino wondered if his intentions had been all that altruistic--if the pain hadn't simply become too overwhelming, pushing him down the one path that could satisfy both his need for revenge and that buried hunger for oblivion, all at the same time.
"Neena?" Logan said gently. "You all right?"
"No," she whispered, and turned to face him. "I'm scared, Logan," she admitted. She felt like she was twelve years old again, wanting him to comfort her after a nightmare. His expression softened, and she continued miserably. "And I'm angry, I think, that he went all these years without telling me about this!" Admitting it, she felt it even more keenly. She turned and continued her packing, her movements short and jerky. "It makes me wonder if he's ever really trusted me."
"Survivor's guilt can be a real powerful thing, darlin'," Logan said very calmly, and started to help her with her weapons. "And you can't wave a magic wand and make it go away, no matter how hard you try."
She stopped for a moment. "I'm not looking for a magic wand, Logan," she said painfully. "I'd be perfectly happy if he'd just talk about it--"
"Huh," Logan said with a snort. "Cable's close-mouthed by nature, Neena. And something like this--besides, what did I teach you about 'what-ifs'? You may've wanted him to tell you before, but he didn't. He's told you now. He didn't have to, darlin'. He hated me knowing, I could tell, and I think he'd probably rather shoot himself in the head than tell Scott and Jean after everything that's happened today. But he decided to tell you. Doesn't that prove anything?" He suddenly grinned, as if he'd found something terribly amusing, and she gave him a suspicious look.
"What are you smiling about?" she inquired a little waspishly. He chuckled.
"I was just wondering how many of your secrets you've told him, darlin'? In 'all these years', I mean."
"A--few," she muttered under her breath, flushing. He laughed, and she swatted at him half-heartedly. "Bastard."
"Love you too, kid," he said gruffly, and helped her finish her packing.
to be continued...
[FOOTER]