Dum de dum, this has been rotting on my computer for nearly 4 years. I
finally edited it and decided to post it. It's a feel good fic that I wrote
when I got depressed Storm didn't have a love interest and I thought Cable
would be great. I was also getting into the Cable comic and didn't like
Domino too much... (gotta love fics you write in high school). This is a
feel good fic that can go anywhere you want post dream achievement
continuum (if a such a thing exists). Don't sue me, Marvel- this is for fun
(and an English teacher's punctuation nightmare!).
First person, Cable's POV.
Christmas. Six years since Apocalypse died and three after the achievement of the Dream. The mansion's abuzz as always, everyone's cheerful and the air has that Christmassy smell to it- you know, firewood and hot chocolate. Just a year ago, I wouldn't have found myself enjoying this, but then again, a lot has changed in a year and not just for me either.
Rogue, with the help of Phoenix, was able to gain some level of control on her absorption abilities. Through countless sessions of psyche digging, they discovered that her lack of control was caused by a repressed and dire fear of not only hurting those she loved, but of being hurt herself. Coming to terms with that had enabled her to make progress. She and Gambit are in Louisiana right now, celebrating their engagement.
Scott and Jean, both in their early 30s, have raised a wonderful three-year- old daughter, Rachel (my half sister). "Ray, no-!!!" CRASH! whom doesn't seem to have left the terrible two phase.
Hank and Trish Tilby have long since parted ways but remain close friends and confidants. They're watching Rachel right now and having a devil of a time. Oh, and he cured the legacy virus.
People pass in and out of the large hall, some bringing gifts, some shaking them. It's amazing to see how far we've all come and it's nice to see smiles rather than battle weary faces. This is what we fought for and I thank the bright lady we've made it and mourn those who did not.
The smell of roast filters in from the kitchen door as Bobby escapes at top speed, dodging a half peeled potato pelted by Storm. "And stay out, Robert! It's hard enough cooking for over 30 people without you pilfering every odd end!"
"I didn't take that much from the roast, Storm!" his mouth's full. She sighs and runs her fingers through her platinum hair, "Goddess help me!" and disappears back in the kitchen.
"Nathan!" a shriek pierces the air and something flies onto my back.
"Rachel?" She's attached to me like a leech. I stand up, hoping if I walk it will shake her off but she slides down and glues herself to my leg, green eyes staring up at me. "What, Ray?"
"I wan' some roast toooooo."
"You'll have to wait."
"But Bobby got some!" The corners of her mouth point downward.
"Bobby's a moron." The puppy eyes appear. I kneel down and she detaches. "You do realize what you're asking, right? If I go in there, I may never get out- at least not alive. They'll probably carve the missing meat out of me."
"Pwease?" Then she brings on the baby talk.
"Uh, ok." I resign. Bright lady protect me, Apocalypse is one thing... angry X-chefs is another. I peek in the kitchen. Ororo, Jean, Sam, Betsy, and Nightcrawler are milling around the kitchen working on two-dozen food projects. Concentrating, I use my TK to lift the lid off of the pot and take a small piece off. Making a split decision, I hover it close to the ceiling rather than near the floor. It's 15... 10... 8 ft. away- I stretch out my hand to grab it... SMACK!
"OW!" The food falls and sam catches it on a plate, giving me a "serves you right!" look. Jean stands in front of me, a spatula floating back into her hand.
"Honestly, Nathan- don't you think you're a little past spanking age?"
"Oath," I mumble, feeling the sting in my backside. She smacks my hand.
"What'd you do that for?!"
"No swearing! i'm your mother and I don't appreciate it!"
"Jean, I'm forty-ni-" SMACK!
"Don't contradict me!"
Ororo smiles at us.
"Judging by that smirk, I guess help is a little out of the question?"
She smiles wider, "It's not every day one sees their husband beaten by his mother with a spatula, dear."
"Da-" Spatula raises... "Never mind." I turn to leave, hearing Sam say, "You are going to wash that, right?" and return to Rachel empty handed, wondering if facing the spatula was that much worse than the wrath a disappointed three year old. Where are Hank and Trish anyway?!
After Dinner...
There's a blizzard forming outside as everyone tears into their gifts. I'm a little suspicious and peek at my wife's eyes but they're that beautiful, perfect blue- maybe their is such a thing as a white Christmas after all. I think she gets more beautiful every time I lay eyes on her. Jean gasps aloud and everyone turns to see what old one-eye got her this year. Two emerald earrings hang above an emerald and ruby ensemble choker laced with gold in a velvet box.
"I'm speechless, Scott! They're gorgeous!"
Rachel climbed onto Jean's lap to peek at her mother's gift and mirror's her mother's reaction perfectly- only she has a purple boa, 'ruby slippers,' and a silver tiara on.
"And who got Rachel those beautiful things?"
"Jubee and Evvy."
"What do you say?"
"Thank-YOU!" She says in the trademark end-your-sentences-loud three-year- old voice.
Ororo comes up to me and plants an amazing kiss on my lips while everyone is focused on their presents. "What was that for?"
"My Christmas present."
I'm puzzled. We agreed to exchange gifts in private.
"Wha-." I'm cut off by her fingers on my lips.
"Shhh." And then she disappeared in the fray. 6 years of team work, 2 of marriage and the woman manages to mystify me even more every day. And she's excellent at keeping presents top secret- it's frustrating, actually. I think she likes to watch me squirm but that's what I get, she had asked me what I wanted. I told her I didn't know.
"Come on, sweety, there must be something you want." "I have everything I've ever wanted or thought I needed- more than I thought I could ever have." She leaned against me and placed her head on my shoulder. "Are you sure?" "Positive." I pulled her in closer. "Then I'll just have to surprise you, I guess." "Ororo..." I go to protest receiving a gift. "At least act surprised, alright?" "Ok." "Promise?" "Promise."
Later that night...
She wordlessly leads me to her old room in the attic, feet moving as lightly as a child's and nimble as a fairy's. We haven't stayed here in weeks but the room is almost expecting us, with how clean and warm it is- surprising considering the blizzard raging outside. It's dark but the lamp light from outside reflecting off of the snow filters in through the closed windows, creating an ethereal glow- it's almost as if we're in our own private world. A glance at the bedside alarm clock reveals that it's 1:47 AM. She releases my hand and disappears behind a Japanese screen Logan had got for her birthday years ago. Clothes fly over it in the dark and one lands on my shoulder- it's her bra. I'm beginning to suspect what my Christmas present is already and grin- I'm a man, I can't help it. She emerges with a black silk robe on- the one I gave her last Christmas- and presses her body against me. I can feel the heat emanating from her body as I tilt my head and kiss her.
She pulls my arms around her and presses her lips to mine, almost greedily. She springs up in the air and wraps her legs around me, ripping my shirt off at the same time, all the while never breaking the kiss. This animosity from her is something new but, hey, I'm not exactly going to stop her either. I stagger to the bed and fall on it backwards, my legs are still off the bed but she pays no attention as she straddles my waist, hands wandering down to undo my pants. She tosses long her hair back with a shake of her head as she licks her lips seductively. Leaning towards my ear she whispers, "I love you... Merry Christmas, Sweety." She's covering my mouth with hers before I can reply and I'm beginning to wonder, "Who's Christmas present is this- mine or hers?"
First person, Cable's POV.
Christmas. Six years since Apocalypse died and three after the achievement of the Dream. The mansion's abuzz as always, everyone's cheerful and the air has that Christmassy smell to it- you know, firewood and hot chocolate. Just a year ago, I wouldn't have found myself enjoying this, but then again, a lot has changed in a year and not just for me either.
Rogue, with the help of Phoenix, was able to gain some level of control on her absorption abilities. Through countless sessions of psyche digging, they discovered that her lack of control was caused by a repressed and dire fear of not only hurting those she loved, but of being hurt herself. Coming to terms with that had enabled her to make progress. She and Gambit are in Louisiana right now, celebrating their engagement.
Scott and Jean, both in their early 30s, have raised a wonderful three-year- old daughter, Rachel (my half sister). "Ray, no-!!!" CRASH! whom doesn't seem to have left the terrible two phase.
Hank and Trish Tilby have long since parted ways but remain close friends and confidants. They're watching Rachel right now and having a devil of a time. Oh, and he cured the legacy virus.
People pass in and out of the large hall, some bringing gifts, some shaking them. It's amazing to see how far we've all come and it's nice to see smiles rather than battle weary faces. This is what we fought for and I thank the bright lady we've made it and mourn those who did not.
The smell of roast filters in from the kitchen door as Bobby escapes at top speed, dodging a half peeled potato pelted by Storm. "And stay out, Robert! It's hard enough cooking for over 30 people without you pilfering every odd end!"
"I didn't take that much from the roast, Storm!" his mouth's full. She sighs and runs her fingers through her platinum hair, "Goddess help me!" and disappears back in the kitchen.
"Nathan!" a shriek pierces the air and something flies onto my back.
"Rachel?" She's attached to me like a leech. I stand up, hoping if I walk it will shake her off but she slides down and glues herself to my leg, green eyes staring up at me. "What, Ray?"
"I wan' some roast toooooo."
"You'll have to wait."
"But Bobby got some!" The corners of her mouth point downward.
"Bobby's a moron." The puppy eyes appear. I kneel down and she detaches. "You do realize what you're asking, right? If I go in there, I may never get out- at least not alive. They'll probably carve the missing meat out of me."
"Pwease?" Then she brings on the baby talk.
"Uh, ok." I resign. Bright lady protect me, Apocalypse is one thing... angry X-chefs is another. I peek in the kitchen. Ororo, Jean, Sam, Betsy, and Nightcrawler are milling around the kitchen working on two-dozen food projects. Concentrating, I use my TK to lift the lid off of the pot and take a small piece off. Making a split decision, I hover it close to the ceiling rather than near the floor. It's 15... 10... 8 ft. away- I stretch out my hand to grab it... SMACK!
"OW!" The food falls and sam catches it on a plate, giving me a "serves you right!" look. Jean stands in front of me, a spatula floating back into her hand.
"Honestly, Nathan- don't you think you're a little past spanking age?"
"Oath," I mumble, feeling the sting in my backside. She smacks my hand.
"What'd you do that for?!"
"No swearing! i'm your mother and I don't appreciate it!"
"Jean, I'm forty-ni-" SMACK!
"Don't contradict me!"
Ororo smiles at us.
"Judging by that smirk, I guess help is a little out of the question?"
She smiles wider, "It's not every day one sees their husband beaten by his mother with a spatula, dear."
"Da-" Spatula raises... "Never mind." I turn to leave, hearing Sam say, "You are going to wash that, right?" and return to Rachel empty handed, wondering if facing the spatula was that much worse than the wrath a disappointed three year old. Where are Hank and Trish anyway?!
After Dinner...
There's a blizzard forming outside as everyone tears into their gifts. I'm a little suspicious and peek at my wife's eyes but they're that beautiful, perfect blue- maybe their is such a thing as a white Christmas after all. I think she gets more beautiful every time I lay eyes on her. Jean gasps aloud and everyone turns to see what old one-eye got her this year. Two emerald earrings hang above an emerald and ruby ensemble choker laced with gold in a velvet box.
"I'm speechless, Scott! They're gorgeous!"
Rachel climbed onto Jean's lap to peek at her mother's gift and mirror's her mother's reaction perfectly- only she has a purple boa, 'ruby slippers,' and a silver tiara on.
"And who got Rachel those beautiful things?"
"Jubee and Evvy."
"What do you say?"
"Thank-YOU!" She says in the trademark end-your-sentences-loud three-year- old voice.
Ororo comes up to me and plants an amazing kiss on my lips while everyone is focused on their presents. "What was that for?"
"My Christmas present."
I'm puzzled. We agreed to exchange gifts in private.
"Wha-." I'm cut off by her fingers on my lips.
"Shhh." And then she disappeared in the fray. 6 years of team work, 2 of marriage and the woman manages to mystify me even more every day. And she's excellent at keeping presents top secret- it's frustrating, actually. I think she likes to watch me squirm but that's what I get, she had asked me what I wanted. I told her I didn't know.
"Come on, sweety, there must be something you want." "I have everything I've ever wanted or thought I needed- more than I thought I could ever have." She leaned against me and placed her head on my shoulder. "Are you sure?" "Positive." I pulled her in closer. "Then I'll just have to surprise you, I guess." "Ororo..." I go to protest receiving a gift. "At least act surprised, alright?" "Ok." "Promise?" "Promise."
Later that night...
She wordlessly leads me to her old room in the attic, feet moving as lightly as a child's and nimble as a fairy's. We haven't stayed here in weeks but the room is almost expecting us, with how clean and warm it is- surprising considering the blizzard raging outside. It's dark but the lamp light from outside reflecting off of the snow filters in through the closed windows, creating an ethereal glow- it's almost as if we're in our own private world. A glance at the bedside alarm clock reveals that it's 1:47 AM. She releases my hand and disappears behind a Japanese screen Logan had got for her birthday years ago. Clothes fly over it in the dark and one lands on my shoulder- it's her bra. I'm beginning to suspect what my Christmas present is already and grin- I'm a man, I can't help it. She emerges with a black silk robe on- the one I gave her last Christmas- and presses her body against me. I can feel the heat emanating from her body as I tilt my head and kiss her.
She pulls my arms around her and presses her lips to mine, almost greedily. She springs up in the air and wraps her legs around me, ripping my shirt off at the same time, all the while never breaking the kiss. This animosity from her is something new but, hey, I'm not exactly going to stop her either. I stagger to the bed and fall on it backwards, my legs are still off the bed but she pays no attention as she straddles my waist, hands wandering down to undo my pants. She tosses long her hair back with a shake of her head as she licks her lips seductively. Leaning towards my ear she whispers, "I love you... Merry Christmas, Sweety." She's covering my mouth with hers before I can reply and I'm beginning to wonder, "Who's Christmas present is this- mine or hers?"