Griplines: Part Five

by Brenda Jean Carlson

The tart aroma of fresh cranberry invaded her senses only seconds before the warm burst of steam. She leaned back against the kitchen wall gingerly, sighing in sore-backed contentment before speaking to the woman in the doorway. "I'm just getting a drink Mom, you're more then welcome to come in."

Karysha Danton yawned in answer, slipping out of the shadowed hallway with a nod. She'd obviously just woken up a few minutes before; as Jai'maena could observe by the way the sleepy-faced woman blinked against the bright kitchen lights before speaking. "What time is it? Three a.m?" She gave a second jaw-cracking yawn. "Another late night fight with the Sandman, hey kiddo?"

"As if I needed the help," She snorted, scanning the room for her favorite kitchen stool. 'Where *is* the thing, anyway? Oh yes - there by the refrigerator in the far corner.' She retrieved it and lugged it haphazardly toward the table - easing onto it with a half-relieved sigh as her lower back jerked - and then settled. "With this professional dancer inside me it's like being at a rock concert. Heaven help if Shane ever decides to take a course in kick-boxing."

"So it's 'Shanae,' tonight is it? Well that's certainly better than 'Anne.' Still don't you think it borders awfully close to the exotic from someone who swore *her* child was going to get a 'nice, normal name?'" The unamused glare Mayna returned had no effect on her mother: Karysha only gave a wry grin and a raised eyebrow before leaning toward her conspiratorially. "If my vote counts for anything, I rather liked 'Emily Claire.' Though, while we're on the name subject yet *again,* I still don't know why you can't pacify your father by picking out a few male ones. The obsession he's forming over this borders on the painfully *pathetic.*"

"You were right about my gender when you were carrying me. Heck, you've rubbed that fact in his face a hundred times since we started this blasted name-hunt." Jai'maena tilted her head scoldingly, "Considering that, isn't this whole conversation just a little hypocritical?" She wrinkled her nose, "Let Papa holler. His 'equal distribution rates' aren't gonna change the facts, anyway - what's done is done." She wondered for a moment at her own pugnation, then sighed as she ran a hand through the sable hair falling across her forehead, "Mom, I can't really explain why, I just *know* she's a she."

"Maybe so, Mayn," Karysha acknowledged, "But the man's in denial...and even more so then usual." The older woman reached into the kitchen cupboard, retrieving two plates and setting them on the table before going to the far counter to retrieve a paring knife from a low set wooden drawer. "Given that, why not humor him a little?" Karysha wiggled her eyebrows exageratedly, scrunching up the oval of purple skin around her right eye into a rather odd-looking oblong as she did so. "Let him think just for once that he's not gonna be overrun by yet another female. The man's desperately trying to maintain a little faith in his testosterone levels."

"You'd think he'd be better at coping by now." The pregnant teenager was, of course, unsympathetic, "He's survived both of us; not to mention Elisha...and seemed none the worse for wear." Jai'maena smiled in spite of herself, "Heck he even survived God-parenting Natauni - which was the worst it can get, or so he's claimed at least a thousand times." She pulled a pair of forks from the silverware drawer while her mother opened the refrigerator - presumably looking for last night's half-eaten peach pie. "Besides it's not like we're drowning him in girly stuff. It was us who banned the color pink from this house. I mean, even if she *is* a girl, I'm not subjecting her to those blasted baby hair-scrunchies..."

The ongoing conversation was anything but unfamiliar to mother and daughter: recurring restlessness had been driving Mayna from bed for going on three weeks at least. The latter knew that fact worried her companion, though Karysha was gracious enough not to adopt her husband's current habit of hovering over a girl who had a chronic smothering allergy. Instead, the senior female Danton had settled for providing company - often waking herself and joining her daughter for a snack in the kitchen. Jai'maena doubted she'd ever be able to adequately get across to her mother just how much that restraint was appreciated.

She settled instead for simply taking the quiet support that was offered.

"Cranberry tea *again?*" Her mother was wrinkling her nose as she picked the sopping tea bag out of the kettle. Karysha sniffed at it distastefully before flinging it into the porcelain sink, rinsing the resulting drips down the drain before refilling the teapot. "You know I never thought I'd say this: your eating *anything* is good considering the alternative. But still, this is what - your sixth cup of the day?" She switched on the burner, "Don't you ever get...well, *sick* of the stuff?"

"I guess I should - hated the smell before all this. Somewhere along the line it just became habit." Jai'maena's own slightly purpler eyebrow arched as she reached out for a handful of napkins. "I guess I don't think about it much, anymore...got used to taking it to keep the food down. Maybe now it's one of those much-feared food cravings, you think?"

Karysha removed the steaming kettle from the stovetop. Her violet eyes were sparkling with laughter as she finally turned. "Mayn sort it out: you eat two cans of jellied cranberries a day." The elder woman smiled and filled her mug two-thirds full, adding a packet of instant cider and stirring it in briskly before sitting down across from her daughter. "'Course when I was carrying you, I had an obsession with hot peppers. Considering that, I think this little one let you off easy."

Mayna rolled her eyes at that disclaimer, patting her belly in pseudo chastisement and affection. "You've already got her on your side, don't you kiddo - you can't do anything wrong." Karysha's answering look was nothing short of indulgent, so she continued. "Though of course Mom's not the one who's waiting for peace talks to resume between your feet and my spine. Who would have known time would dull her memory so soon...?"

Karysha only chortled aloud, finally forking into her own piece of pie. "One thing to say to say to your guilt trip: darling. Thirty-two hours of labor."

"You know, I've never seen a woman so against natural labor - especially when she didn't even go through it herself. And again I remind you, I can always ask Papa to coach."

That was a mockery all of its own, of course...Chance Danton wouldn't have survived the birthing class videos, much less what came after. It wasn't that he was squeamish or incapable, he was just so overly empathetic when confronted with the pain of those he loved. 'He still hasn't forgiven himself for the gestational diabetes...' Never mind the fact that it was *her* body chemistry that had been screwed up. 'He's absolutely paranoid that it was his fault - that it was predestined by his genetics or something...'

Heaven forbid it just be a string of bad luck.

'But he's an over-compensator by nature.' That was just the way he was wired. The family patriarch had always been fiercely protective, to the point of annoyance and occasionally plotted murder, sometimes. It hadn't exactly helped how he found out about her pregnancy, either: 'If only Andy could have kept his mouth shut just a little longer...' If she'd had any say in the matter, she'd have gone the 'official route' for such an announcement...

After all, what else was the point of having a mother?

'The man went up like a gas can in an open flame,' Her father's wide-eyed shock had been totally opposite her mother's stone face. Karysha Danton had taken the news with the kind of calm that was her long-standing trademark. Oh, her dad had hugged her just as fiercely after the initial admittance, but his shock response was decidedly more human in those first moments of absorption...

As far as she knew, they still hadn't been able to patch the hole in the Medlab door.

"He still feels guilty for doing that, you know..." Her mother must have picked up on her line of thought through their link. The reality of that fact made her wince, then pull her weakening mental shields determinedly back into their place. "You're still his baby, Jai'maena...he's still imagining you walking on his own feet. As much as he'll love this baby too, it's a lot for us all to get used to."

'Well now I know where I get the talent for understatement.' Mayna could hardly fault her father for his dazedness. Especially when she sometimes had to remind *herself* this wasn't all a bizarre kind of dream. Nothing was a more readily available example of that than the first time she'd actually felt the baby move within her: 'I didn't think it would affect me so strongly - I mean I've sensed her for *months.*' That first physical flutter though, had been a whole new kind of nausea.

She'd never known love and fear could exist such a close place.

"You know, we should really start planning for a nursery." Karysha was still talking - apparently unaware of her daughter's inner dialogue. "We've got a while, admittedly, but maybe we could start considering color schemes or something..."

She forced herself to keep from groaning at her mother's topic, "We better wait and let Dad get a word in on this one: he'd be absolutely heartbroken if he didn't get to make the issue into a 'family meeting.'" She rubbed her forehead, "I'm telling you now though, if he brings up sheep, ducks or bunnies, he's gone." A girl had to have her limits, after all. Even in tolerance toward her family genetic leanings.

"Oh come on - ducks aren't that bad...very colorful and friendly..."

"Mom, Shanae is *not* gonna wake up each morning to the sight of a mallard."

"Well then what are you going to use..bullfrogs? Or maybe some tigers and monkeys? We could set up some kind of lush jungle border...with a lot of yellows, reds and greens."

She shook her head in exasperation. "Okay, now I *know* I'm not ready to have this conversation." She glared at her mother accusingly. "You're just as bad as Dad, you know - even if you're not as loud with the cooing...."

"As if I don't know about that stuffed dog you've got hidden under your bed."

"It's not a dog, for Pete's sake, it's a *WOLF....*"

A wolf for her daughter: or more precisely a whelpling or pup. It had been the first toy she'd ever bought - long before the infamous nursery had ever been assembled. Emily had never held the plush animal, of course...and her only crib had been a makeshift incubator in the med-station of the main labs the four or five days they'd been together. Knowing her father though, her daughter had ended up with enough stuffed animals to drowned her in compensation. And no doubt the replacement nursery had been covered wall to wall in ducks.

"He's a bloody weird looking thing." Sixteen year old Natauni's initial critique had been less than flattering toward the toy. She'd hauled it out into from under the comforter after discovering its tail while lounging lazily on her best friend's unmade bed. "And who picked the cheesy collar anyway?" She'd pitched the ball of fluff into the air with a snort of derision. "I mean honestly...he doesn't look a *bit* like a 'Dresden...'"

'Course, Natauni changed her mind given time...' "Now what are we gonna call you, Little Guy - 'Mr. Ed?'" She shifted wearily against the couch as the sleepy ball of German Sheperd puppy in her arms looked up at her with half-opened eyes. "I know, I know...you're kinda busy," She shifted the bottle, sighing loudly and speaking to no one in particular. "Lord help me - if the boys in the Pack ever found out I'm this much of a sap..."

When had she started going so completely out of her mind?

"You're telling me that he can *talk?*" Natauni's expression been all but incredulous as she stared at panting, half grown creature. Domino hadn't been sure at the time if her friend hadn't found that little fact more hard to process than the fact that the family 'white sheep' was still alive.

"He's got no family - that makes him Hakanian. Dammit Tauni, you *know* he's the best thing in the world that could happen to Emily. Now I'm asking again, will you help me do this thing or not?"

Some things you gave up. Others you just left behind.

A wolf for her daughter. Round two had been a decidedly different game from the first. Eight months of teaching and arguing and setting the stage for the introduction had gone so quickly that by time it was over they'd been all but nauseous from the fear and the expectation. "You better just hope nothing happens - we're all gonna be skinned for pelts if this blasted web breaks..."

Funny how Natauni may have spoken to be flippant, and yet she'd still nailed it straight on.

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She'd been a lot of things in her life, and admittedly any number of them had been unpleasant. This was her first experience, however, at playing the role of a fly. 'Well it's nothing personal, at least.' That fact was probably the only real consolation she had over her circumstances. 'Never wanted to be an insect,' But if she had to take the demotion at all, at least she could fairly say she was sharing it with the rest of mid-day traffic.

The skies above were getting dark - a thick fog descending on the streets as the slumping haze brought on by the dropping temperatures of the afternoon continued to fall. Visibility was close to nil as a result, and she cursed the pea-thick soup that seem to strangle her from every side. Traffic was at a snail's pace at the moment...the roads having grown almost slimy with the moisture and exhaust fumes of delayed transit. And here she was - stuck on the expressway - on a motorcycle amidst the slop.

Wondering when in heaven's name she'd developed such an irritating conscience.

The throttle on her bike needed checking. It was acting 'sluggishly' at best. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the exhaust fumes, 'The thing could probably use an oil change as well.' She wondered momentarily whose bike it was she'd 'pilfered'; most likely Domino's, since Summers was no doubt riding his own. Not that she wouldn't have preferred using her own jeep, 'Problem with that was my chances of keeping up with 'Rocket Man' up there would have been cut down to zero.' Nathan had been on a fast track to who-knew-where when she'd noticed him leaving. And when she'd managed to catch up to him, she hadn't exactly been in the position to demand he slow down.

'Oh yeah, that would have gone over fantastic.' He'd have bounced her halfway down the driveway like a not so proverbial ball. 'Man's still pissed at me for what I did to him in Medlab. Not that it didn't need doing.' In actuality, she was feelingly slightly guilty over the incident, though not for the reason's one might think. Oh the forced vent of emotion had been necessary - but it had still been harse, nonetheless. And she knew all too well it was the absolute pits being both kicked and down...

'The man really, really needs to hit someone.' Nathan Summers had been confined entirely too long for his own health. 'Mystery girl better be glad she looks so familiar, or the rest of X-force would have been going it alone.' Oh it wasn't that Cable wouldn't have *tried* to stay at the warehouse - but even he had his limits. 'Emily' was a dead-ringer for a certain family gene pool, though...and the knowledge that he was treating a potential sibling or otherwise had added that needed pull to keep him reasonably together.

'Course, that's not to say it's a wonderful event in the long run...' She winced at the amount of gossip she knew was going to be starting over this. Still, in the short term the obvious connection was the best thing that could have happened. 'Always be glad for what you can get, cause things could get far worse very easily.' For that reason alone when Emily woke up, she'd have to remember to stop in and thank her.

Of course, even grace time had to run out eventually. How long had they been out here - maybe an hour? She glanced at her fuel gage and grimaced, 'I don't suppose I'd be lucky enough to find out the gas tank was full.' The red line was about an eighth of a tank from drop-out empty; she cursed under her breath and prayed it held out a while longer. 'This isn't fair,' she was doing a *good* thing here. Surely that deserved some kind of break from the heavens. Why did life have to get to blasted unfair when she put on her 'hero t-shirt' anyway?

'Should have just stayed in Medlab with the man in the first place. Blew up in my face the minute I stepped back.' She'd originally left her job as interference coordinator after Jean and Scott had arrived - figuring she'd be of more use if she found Wolverine.

'You'd think his own parents would be able to control him...' And maybe with Logan's help, they'd actually have been able to find Dom before Nathan lost it completely. 'Course he had to come bursting into the garage right as I pulled out,' If she'd been in Medlab like everyone else, she'd have never been obligated to catch him.

And who said there weren't perks in whole-hearted interfering?

Another car horn blared in front of her. She winced at the sound of squealing breaks, then cursed explicitly. Looked like Summers Andretti had seen fit to make yet another abrupt - and frankly miraculous - surviving lane change. 'For goodness sake, Cable, will you PAY ATTENTION!' She doubted very much that Nathan even saw the near misses he was causing, much less bothered to actually regret them. The way he was weaving through the holes in traffic you could have thought he was a man among anthills...

A thought that would have been almost comforting if the 'ants' hadn't been the ones with the rational brains.

'Keep your nose to the forest floor.' The whole scene made her think somehow of a wolf packs' daily meal-hunt. No doubt the comparison would have seriously annoyed the man right in front of her: given the condition of his patched up left hand. Nonetheless, Dresden's canine analogy persisted on ringing true: Cable *did* seem to be operating on a central fixation some where beyond him. Everything other than his partner had been delegated to the external, as the steady stride of near takedown pushed background sensation into grayness.

And as for her, she was just doing her best to keep out of his way.

'That which doesn't trip you gets discounted.' It was the survival rule for those lower lifeforms of the bush. She was being allowed to follow because her presence didn't prove a notable *distraction.* 'Too bad local law enforcement hasn't been as wise.' No doubt a few kindly police officers had gotten some serious headaches within the past few minutes. The last thing Nathan cared about right now was any moral compunctions.

'What in the heck are you seeing in there anyway?' She followed him off an exit to the freeway. The question was probably more then she wanted to ask - much less know in any real sense of the word. Whatever it was, was engulfing his whole person completely. She doubted by now he was even following a set route - his driving was too sporadic to be anything but instinctual. 'Nothing in a trip like total disorientation...' She shouldn't have expected any less.

After all, she *was* here on 'vacation.'

"Oh sure, 'Come on down to Frisco, Darlin'...we'll see the sights...look up some old friends.'" She should have *known* better, all she'd have had to do was look at a record of their rejuvenative history to see the idiocy involved in such an invitation. But she hadn't seen her lover for almost a month, and even the knowledge he'd be taking on personal business with Neena hadn't been enough of a detractant against that separation.

She'd missed him, to put it simply, and idle hands had all but invited trouble in.

'And why San Francisco of all places? Couldn't there have been a better spot to go missing?' The fog was annoying enough as it was, without the darn headaches she always got from the urban sprawl of the major west coast cities. The beach this most certainly was *not* - though to be fair it wasn't the full ghetto either. No, if Cable was tracking right, Domino was lost somewhere amidst the mountains of tag-board.

This place was the California lower-suburbs - best known for their total anonymity. It was where the mass waves of empty-headeness begin.

'Slushie machine within a two block radius...guaranteed.' Not to mention a thousand and one overnight spots waiting for travelers of all sorts. The practicalist in her admitted this was the perfect place to disappear if you liked greasy room service and the kinds of no-perks that came with room rentals for dirt cheap. 'A world based on shammy...who'd WANT to be here?' No one...which she supposed was the point of the migration on Domino's part. If you were looking to just sink into the background, these kind of places were ideal because nobody was looking to ask questions. 'Tell 'em your name is Ima Sucker and they won't as much as blink if you brought cash.'

Still, if she saw one more 'Red Roof Inn.' She nearly skidded the bike across the driveway in front of her when Nathan made an abrupt turn to the left. He roared through the half-filled parking lot before all but throwing his bike down at the wide curb and bursting through the entry's main door. She cut her own engine seconds later, following him through the lobby at a near run.

Yes it was definite, she was never taking one of Logan's suggestions again.

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"See you your ten and raise you a week's worth of supper dishes." If the lower half of her expression was any indicator, the woman across from him was glaring from beneath her now-applied sunglasses.

"We said money bets only, Danton...and what do I look like, a fool? Nineteen years of shared KP duty and you *still* haven't learned how to pre-rinse."

He frowned and motioned for a card off the deck's top - looking down at his current allotment before she passed it. Two kings an eight, a six and a five all stared unemotionally back up at him. He discarded the last of these after a moment - receiving another eight for his trouble. This he settled into place with a smile; thus far this was his most hopeful hand.

He reminded himself sternly not to give away the fact by thoughtlessly scratching his nose.

"Oh come on - what's there to lose? It's not like you don't already hold the pot." He shook a finger at her, "I don't care what you say - someday I'm gonna prove you're counting cards." His companion only snorted vocally in response - a sound which caused him to tilt his head whimsically before continuing. "Well it's got to be that, Elly. It's not like you don't have the ability. And how else do you logically explain winning eight games out of every ten?"

She drew two cards for herself. "I thought you said the deck had to be marked." The auburn haired woman's smile wasn't quite suppressed enough, "Or did you finally give up on that concept after the twelve-point analysis from Nick?" He grimaced at the reference: she'd never ceased to enjoy tormenting him about that particular incident, though her initial response all those years ago had yet be surpassed. 'You know you didn't have to *steal* them, Chance...I'd have handed them over myself if you asked...'

'Oh that was *real* helpful, Elisha...especially after two weeks of clean-up duty as penance...'

"I still haven't given up that suspicion, you know - just gathering evidence for the court case. The most popular theory in the Network at present is that you bribed him, either with new toys or promised weaponry." Elisha responded by muttering a few undeterminal sentences under her breath; an act that made him smile because he knew full well she resorted back to her lingual roots when caught at something. "Hey don't whine at me, Copeland, I'm not the one with a never changing motivational system. If you don't like being read so fast, than take a few courses in unpredictability."

"Says the man who makes the same thing every single Friday night for dinner...and the one who hasn't consented to eat any but one kind of ice cream for going on ten years." Elisha's words were expectedly flippant, and yet somehow he sensed the retort was still a little bit...off. It took a minute of retrospection to realize what was wrong: the woman in front of him had barely glanced at the cards in either of their hands. He frowned at that realization, 'How long has it been since you last slept babe?' If his friend was using Poker as a sort of idle busy work that meant she was truly exhausted.

Card play was an almost holy thing to her...to be ignoring it was full emotional maximization.

'Well, what do you expect...this is about Natauni.' The name he'd come to see as synonymous with high blood pressure. They both knew full well the reality of the reasons her daughter would have made contact - she didn't throw her scientific override around idly. This, coupled with the fact that she's had all but no contact with them over the past six months, had to be having a cumulative effect on the woman pretending to study her cards.

'Of course the latter part is half my fault....like it or not we kinda shoved her in the middle.' He and his God-daughter weren't on very amiable terms at the moment - a fact Elisha was all to aware of. The conflict had raged hot and cold for the last six months - moving from all night discussions to shouting. And through it all, his self-assured co-leader had said absolutely nothing.

'Funny thing is I think that scares me even moreso...' If only because he'd come to put so much stock in her instincts. Elisha's knack for bluff and card games was only an extension of a greater talent he often called her 'perceptive grace.' 'I may have the luck, but she has this uncanny knack for knowing how it's gonna deal out.' It was frighteningly like prescient sight if he were honest. Of course, he'd never gotten a truly straight answer from her about it; it being one of those spots in their relationship where she'd drawn her line in the sand. There were moment like this one, though, when the whole thing made him blasted uncomfortable.

It was like getting a strange tingle of SOMETHING at the base of his brain.

"Chance, you're fading out on me..." A patient voice cut through his thoughtstream. He looked up to see Elisha studying him chidingly, "There's no point in doing this if you're gonna go back to brooding..."

He wrinkled his nose in reaction, but never got a chance to form and excuse. The darkened comm screen on the other side of the cockpit finally chose that moment to beep.

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