Title: Unto Death Do Us Part
Setting: Worlds Beyond and Michigan
Genre: Revisionist Fluff
Time-Frame: X-Factor #39 2009
Rating: K+
Summary: Though technically deceased, Moira MacTaggert and Sean Cassidy pair up for a St. Paddy's Day date.
Notes: I am very proud of this fic, mostly because I finished it
Inspired by: Rowena's Valentine's / St. Patrick's Day 2009 Challenge on the Nightscrawlers fan site
Unto Death Do Us Part
Sean peered hopefully at a figure emerging from the mouth of a cave a few steps away. Like everything else in this world of mist it was heavily shrouded in swirling gray and pearl.
"Moira? Moira MacTaggert? Do me eyes deceive me, or is that really you?"
The figure moved out of the murkiness of the cave and hesitated, seeming to look back at him before venturing to whisper skeptically, "Sean? Sean Cassidy?"
Blinking rapidly, Sean tried to get a clearer picture through the mist. He was aware that in his spirit form he had no true eyes, but he was recently enough deceased to still behave as though he did. After a moment, the figure's features coalesced into the familiar form of Moira MacTaggert, the woman he had loved and missed so much.
"Ach, Sean!" The spirit form of Moira's words were thick with sorrow, and she moved closer to place a weightless hand where his arm should have been. "Have ye passed then? And so soon? Or have I lost track of time completely and ye've lived to a ripe old age – either way - I am sorry to see ye here."
Sean Cassidy smiled ruefully, pleased as anything to finally have this woman close to him again. He placed a similarly intangible hand on hers, knowing it was there, though he couldn't really feel anything.
"Oy Moira," he said, voice full of sadly subdued indignation, "I didn't believe it when I heard you were down there. Was there some law you broke in life or –"
Moira raised one ghostly eyebrow and interrupted Sean's diatribe. "I'll have you know, Sean Cassidy, that I was a highly ethical scientist and lived a largely blameless life. I was merely visiting some friends in the World's Beneath."
Sean looked confused, "But, Moira, who could you possibly know who would be Down There?" Then he remembered and said aloud. "Oy, of course, Kevin."
Moira sighed and resumed her drifting motion, away from the cave and away from him. Sean was forced to pace along beside her.
"Some of the more interesting people are sent 'Down There' as you put it," his earthly love began conversationally before adding finally. "And yes, I went to see my son as well."
Feeling as though he'd already dug himself into a hole, Sean ventured to ask awkwardly, "And how's he
doing?"
The spirit halted and turned to him with a look that was patented Moira. "As well as can be expected, given the circumstances. He did some very bad things in life."
Sean was completely at a loss of what to say to make things right, "I am sorry, Moira."
Moira looked away, "And how's yer wife, Sean?"
"My- Oh, I haven't seen her, Moira. She was very Catholic and I, well I lapsed greatly in life. They enforce the rules so much more up here."
"It stands to reason they would, this is the place for it. But, all the same, I am sorry to hear that, Sean."
Sean shrugged. "It's no matter really, I'm sure she's happier where she is without old me to bother her. We were so young when we were together, and that was so long ago."
"Do ye think she's waiting for ye, Sean?"
"I don't know. I can't go through the gate meself to ask her - and I'm told she never comes out to the Common area to mingle with the other Heavens – so she may be, for herself or because it's required of her. I have no way of knowing."
Moira smiled sadly.
"Where are you staying, Moira?"
"Agnostics have their own special place in the heavens, so I was able to get in there, though just barely."
"Do you like it there?"
Moira shrugged. "It's less intellectual than I'd like, but pleasant enough, overall. 'Course I've found myself going visiting often."
"It was luck I ran into you then. There're so many pathways to Hell. When I ran into Wolverine, he told me he thought this was where'd you come out though. He did well in tipping me off."
"Wolverine's dead!?" Moira swung around, her expression incredulous,
"Oy? No, just passing through. I suppose he does often, considering the type of life he leads."
"I suppose so, and with his healing factor he'd have a body to go back to every time. I shouldn't be so surprised."
"He seems to really know his way around and how things work."
"Are ye going somewhere with this, Sean?"
"Well, I was just thinking, it's possible to go back in spirit form, it happens all the time. It's just something they don't advertise up here."
"Back to the World you mean. I can see how that could be messy. And what would we have to do, bribe an angelic guardian?"
"Well, Wolverine said he'd put a good word in for us with the guardian at the Lion's Portal. And, as it happens, I have the perfect destination in mind."
"Are ye asking me on a date, Sean Cassidy?"
Sean shrugged, "Would that be such a bad thing?"
Moira smiled and took his arm.
As they stepped onto the sunny street bustling with activity Sean couldn't suppress a grin.
He was happy to be in the world again. And even though he couldn't smell anything, or feel the faint breeze, at least he could remember.
Glancing over at Moira, however, he thought she seemed disappointed.
"What's wrong?" Sean asked, concerned.
"Ach, Sean, this isn't exactly Paris or Rio De Janeiro."
"Ah no, it's not."
"It seems like…" Moira glanced around. "Detroit."
"Very good, Moira!" Sean praised cheerfully before catching her malevolent look.
"Of all the places in the world to go in the short time we have, ye chose Detroit, Michigan?"
"Well," Sean said, trying to appease her. "Look what day it is."
Moira looked out at the city, trying to find something to pacify her mood. There was certainly a lot of green about.
"It's St. Patrick's Day." She said flatly, crossing her arms. "You do remember I'm a full-blooded Scot, don't you?"
"Well, of course I do. But," he said, grasping at straws, "There is no world-wide celebration for the Scots. St. Patrick's Day is the closest I can think of. And it's meant for everyone to have fun, all around."
Moira hrumphed, "This is your holiday, not mine. And I refuse to be Irish, even for a day."
"Do you want to go back then?" Sean asked tentatively.
Moira sighed. "Nae, I doubt I'll get another chance to visit Earth, so I'll enjoy what I can get, while I can."
The couple moved out into the crowds. At first it was a bit unnerving because no one seemed able to sense them and it was nearly impossible to avoid people bumping through them. But, they got used to it after a fashion, and Sean couldn't help but notice that Moira, surrounded by the corporeal bodies of the living, had resumed a walking motion more like his own.
If only he could put his arm around her, Sean thought. But, even if he were physically able to do so, she didn't look very receptive.
He decided to lose himself in the people watching, and with all the crazy costumes and antics going on, that wasn't a difficult thing to do. What was proving to be difficult, though, was cheering Moira up.
"Ha, that one was always my favorite," Sean said pointing at a familiar slogan. "What more does a man need to deserve being kissed?"
"What more, indeed," was Moira's reply.
Even Sean's attempts at amusing ghostly capers weren't working – the best, he thought, involved him crouching under a café table with just his head visible on a plate, making a horror-struck expression as he pretended the couple seated there were eating him for brunch.
"As if I hadn't seen Katherine Pryde do that a thousand times." Moira said, rolling her transparent eyes.
Well, leave it to a woman who had lived so long among mutants to be unfazed by what the afterlife had to offer.
Nevertheless, Moira did brighten up after a bit on her own and even seemed to be almost enjoying herself by the time they slipped into a pub.
"Ach, the tragedy of being dead," Moira sighed as they ambled through the door of the crowded pub, "being denied the benefits of a good drink."
"Well, it's worth a try at any rate." Sean said and moved over to a wall of cached bottles. "They are spirits after all."
Sure enough, Sean's theory proved workable and he managed to snag the essence of a bottle of Irish Whiskey, which he proudly brought over to Moira.
"I'd really prefer Scotch," she said.
And so Sean was forced to go back and fetch her a Scotch.
The pub was only increasing in population as the day grew later, and of course no one could see them to make room for them, but they were able to find a perch at one end of a table nonetheless. Though there was so little room there that part of them had to merge with the wall.
"It's funny," Sean said with a glance about. "How plenty of demons make it to Earth but we never ran into any angels here. I wonder why that is."
"I suppose," Moira answered, "It's because the angels are good and follow the rules and the demons couldn't care less.
"Who are ye looking for, Sean?"
Sean jumped a bit. "I was just keeping an eye open is all. Not that me senses detect anyone here save the mortal living and ourselves."
At Moira's disbelieving expression he deflated. "Am I that obvious?"
"Subtlety was never one of your virtues. I don't believe for a millisec that ye're looking for angels. Yer eyes have been roving about ever since we got back to Earth. And Lord knows ye haven't been looking at me."
Sean winced and decided telling Moira she was the only angel he ever needed to see would be a grave mistake. "You know there's no one I'd rather have with me here now, Moira. It's just…"
"Ye know the guardian told us we're not supposed to interfere in the lives of the living. Or get too close to our old lives."
"Wolverine said the rules are made to be broken." Sean said stubbornly, "We have the ability to go where we want."
"Ach, so Wolverine is yer role model now?"
"Well, no. But, you have to admit, the man does have a point."
"Several, actually," Moira mumbled irritably.
Sean sighed and lowered his voice. "It's just… I wanted to see her again."
Moira bristled. "And just who is this 'she'?"
"Shhh," Sean said. looking wildly around as if he were afraid of being overheard. "My daughter, Teresa. Wolverine said she was in Detroit these days with the current X-Factor."
"So, that's what all this is about then? And I take it ye have no intention of going back to the portal by sun down? Ye know, I was happy enough with my place in the Heavens, thank ye very much."
"Rahne is here too." Sean grinned hopefully.
Moira frowned and allowed her attention to be diverted by some commotion happening up at the bar. Some patrons there were loudly complaining about the quality of their drinks – which it appeared were missing an essential something – and their rampant sobriety was driving them to threaten the barkeep. Moira scoffed to herself and considered, if she were to remain in the World, how interesting it would be to embark on a career as a spirits-sucking vampire. But, of course, that was all just an evasion of the painful reality at hand.
"Rahne." Moira repeated to herself with sad wistfulness as she took comfort in her hard won drink. Finally she looked up at the see-through Irishman. "Well, Sean, seeing the wee lass again I'd hate to miss. Ye've won me over to yer sinful scheme."
"I knew you'd go along, Moira." Sean said. "There's a reason you were the love of me life."
"Ach, don't try sweet talking me now, Sean. Ye're just lucky I'm not drunk yet. I make a very mean drunk."
"I don't forget that," Sean grinned, "But I wouldn't have you any other way."
"Come along, Sean," said Moira, taking up her spirit bottle. "Let's go find our girls."
"So, ye're plan was to find her, how?"
"I thought a day like St. Paddy's own would be enough to bring her out of the woodwork. She's bound to be the center of the party."
Moira and Sean were standing near the St. Patrick's Day parade. By now they were used to the throngs moving past and through them. Moira, out of habit, just worked to keep her bottle clear.
A group of Irish bagpipe players in full regalia marched by, blaring a traditional tune. Proud teams of banner carriers advanced after them, holding aloft proclamations of the most central honorees of this great day on large swaths of coloured cloth. "Guinness" floated by first and was followed by a big green one proclaiming "Jamesons" which bobbed along just behind it. Sean turned to salute, a tear in his eye.
"Even now?" Moira asked, interrupting his reverie. "I thought she'd given up drink."
"Well, sure." Sean said, recovering his senses, "I mean I hope she's still dry and all, but that shouldn't stop her from having a grand ole time. Me plan is to find her where they're having the most fun."
Sean's plan, as it turned out, was right on the money.
"Well," Moira said with a smirk. "I guess that answers the question of whether she's drinking again or not."
Sean just stared agape. His Teresa, no longer a teen but all grown up now was heavily, heavily pregnant. Though still the life of the party.
"She's pregnant!" Sean said aloud unnecessarily.
"That she is," Moira replied, "But, not for very much longer if she keeps carrying on like that."
"Pregnant." Sean said again, dazedly.
Moira snickered as she downed another swig of the spirit. Was it her or was the bottle looking a little shorter? "I suppose now ye'll want to stay longer."
"I suppose now I'll want to find out who the father is."
"Oh no," Moira said, waving the shrinking bottle about. "Ye're not going to go all poltergeist on the poor lad, are ye? Though it might be an interesting experiment to see how far our powers as specters go.
"Oh look," she continued, pointing with her drinking hand, "It's my old labbie, Jamie. He's looking well."
"So, it is." Sean said with a brief glance, then continued scanning the crowd, "Do you suppose the father's here then? I don't see a ring on her finger."
Moira rolled her eyes and tipped the bottle again. It was definitely much shorter now. Such a shame. "Well, we've come this far, why not let's go a little farther?"
"I never believed in ghosts in life, ye know."
"Seeing is believing, as they say. I suppose this whole experience has shaken up your whole world view."
"Ach, not at all Sean. The material world's still made up of all the same building blocks that I dedicated myself to in life. There's just an added dimension or two now. Just something that the denizens of Earth haven't quite discovered all of yet. They're getting closer every moment."
"Still a scientist then, Moira?"
"Forever and always Sean, it's who I am."
Both were silent for a moment as they looked out over the green dyed river, apart from the revelry, but still close enough to keep an eye on their loved ones.
"I don't see Rahne though, ye know." Moira finally said, as though she'd been looking ever since they'd arrived there and had finally accepted her adopted daughter wasn't present.
"I haven't spotted her either." Sean said, but then added with tenacious hopefulness. "We can look for her next."
"We'll hardly find ourselves in good standing if we do that. Unless, are ye asking me to run away with ye
Sean?"
"How far do you think we'll make it?"
"Ye should have married me Sean, in life, when ye had the chance."
"Don't think I haven't been kicking meself about that for far too long. At least then we could remain together."
"Ye were miserable without me then, Sean?"
"Suicidal."
"I suppose that's rather romantic of ye," Moira said, reaching out to take what they both still thought of as his hand.
Sirens ripped through the night.
"Typical," Moira said, "That everyone would panic when a woman goes into labour. As if it wasn't the most natural thing in the world. She hardly needs to go to a hospital."
Indeed, Teresa was insisting on walking to the waiting ambulance, arm in arm with a Monet who was trying to be supportive, though she was really just being led along.
"Sorry about the mess," Teresa called, turning back to the crowd of revelers who had parted to let her and M through. Then she let lose with a formidable yell of "Erin go Braigh!" before turning back to her transport.
"Just one." The ambulance driver said, stopping short the entire team of X-factor who seemed ready to pile into the back of the vehicle.
"Jamie," Teresa said without hesitation.
"No way," Jamie said, "I had nothing to do with this, I'm just a dupe."
"Stand aside," the real Jamie said, slipping through the crowd and taking a seat on the bench besides the stretcher Teresa was using as a chair. He winked at her. "Never send a dupe to do a man's job."
"Will you marry me Jamie?"
Jamie paused long enough to set his jaw resolutely. "I will," he promised, manfully.
"I wish my father could be here." Teresa said, taking the real Jamie's hand.
"I wish he could be too." Jamie said.
"Oh no he doesn't," said Teresa's father who, unbeknownst to them, sat on the opposite bench with Moira, arms crossed and scowling.
Moira leaned into him. "Ach Sean, just enjoy the show."
Sean was on tenterhooks throughout the whole ordeal, but when it was over he was all smiles.
"Hello Sean," Teresa said contentedly to the newborn she held in her arms. She looked tired after fifteen hours of labour. "You were a long time coming into the world."
The entire team of X-factor stood proudly alongside, welcoming their newest family member.
"It was worth coming all this way just to hear her say that," Moira said taking an obviously touched Sean's arm. "Don't ye think?"
Sean only nodded and beamed, his transparent eyes seeming to mist with unspent tears.
"Come on, Jamie, it's time you held your new son." Teresa said, holding out the infant.
"I don't know, Jamie said doubtfully, "I wouldn't want to…."
"Oh pshaw," Teresa said, "You'll be fine, it'll all come natural, you'll see."
Hesitantly, Madrox reached out to take the bundle. He was awkward at first, but relaxed as he settled the light weight against his chest.
Suddenly, the baby began to be surrounded by an eerie light.
"I was afraid that might happen," said Jamie.
Teresa was fast as lightning as she snatched her child from her errant fiancée and held her son to her breast. "Afraid exactly what would happen?" she spat.
"Well, that I might absorb him, like one of my dupes."
"Could that happen?" Sean asked Moira, horrified.
"Never while there was a world renowned geneticist in the room," Moira said, squeezing his hand. "Ye men all seem to think ye have far more to do with the reproductive process than ye actually do. Even if he did take back what he contributed, it would only be equal to half the genetic material contained in only the nucleus of one wee cell. That would hardly make a difference to young Sean."
Jamie sighed. "I guess I'm a father after all."
"Damn right you are," Teresa said, settling down again now that she had her and Jamie's son safe in arms.
At the O'Rouke-Madrox wedding Moira's spirit was immediately set to rest when she caught sight of her adopted daughter, Rahne.
"Oh, Sean," she breathed (allegorically), "My wee lass is grown into a lady now. And look how beautiful she is!"
"She's lovely," Sean agreed, finding it difficult to believe that the fierce looking, decidedly un-wee red-head was the same gangly and awkward girl who had once been his student and Moira's ward. The only thing that troubled him were the furtive glances that passed between the young Scot and a squirrelly, dark-haired boy on the X-Factor team. In his mind, the boy didn't rate anywhere near enough. Not that there wasn't a lot of that going around.
Well, best to leave the affairs of the living to the living. He had his own prospects to attend to. Glancing to the joyful spirit who stood next to him he made as though clearing his throat.
"I know it's a bit late to ask, since we're already passed and all. But, I find I just have to anyway. Would you do me the honor of marrying me, Moira?"
Moira quirked a nonexistent eyebrow at him, "What makes ye think I would want to marry such an old man?"
"Old man?!" Sean exclaimed, "I'm only a year or two older than you are."
"Aye," Moira said, "But, ye are a grandfather now, aren't ye?"
Sean's startlement changed to a sheepish grin, "I suppose I am at that."
Both of them turned reflexively to those seated in the front most pews. There, the tiny infant Sean was cuddled up in Jamie's arms, an oblivious and rather fussy witness to his parents' marriage oaths.
Abruptly, a giant with a shock of white hair and teeny ruby granny glasses reached over the back of the pew. "Let someone with real talent take over," he said as he took away the baby.
"Hey," Jamie yelled, turning indignantly from the altar, "I make a great father!"
Teresa slapped him upside the head for disrupting the marriage ceremony. Suddenly there were two grooms standing next to her.
"Oy," she said, with a roll of her blue eyes, "Pull yourselves together boys, so we can finish this legally."
"Well," Moira conceded, " I suppose I always did prefer more mature men."
Sean's answering smile was cut short by a sudden glow that filled the chapel. As a door opened between worlds, swirls of fog swept in, unnoticed by any except the guilty couple. Against the brightness, an imposing silhouette appeared. It didn't look happy.
"I feel like a schoolgirl, caught out late for curfew." Moira said, looking at the figure with a shiver.
"I'd say I feel the same, but I was never a schoolgirl," Sean said taking Moira's hand.
Still holding hands, the pair walked slowly into the mist.
As the portal began to close, they turned to take their last look at the Land of the Living and all those whom they loved best. Joined, it was just a little easier to let go of the vibrancy of the World and forgive those in it for not recognizing how impermanent it all was.
"Ach, Sean," Moira said mournfully as the wedding scene faded, "I know I cannae bear to part from ye again!"
"And I know meself to be lost without you, Moira."
"Ye know there's only one place where we'd be allowed to be together, Sean."
"I do, Moira, I do. And I'll go there gladly if it means keeping you near me. The Heavens are no heaven without you."
"I feel the same, Sean."
"Then, let it be. I love you, Moira."
"I love ye too, Sean."
The couple gripped their hands adamantly against the rule of the Heavens. Then the portal closed completely and they were gone.
