5/9
"Feel up to leaving, or do you need more time?"
Domino cracked an eye open and looked at him. He was really being far too considerate, she reflected. She sat up slowly, gauging her body's reaction to being vertical. Her head was pounding, but that was the worst of it. "I'll be okay. Lemme get dressed." She hauled herself out of bed and gingerly made her way over to her bag, pulling out a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. "You'll be okay driving?"
"Only nine hours, on a paved interstate? No problem," he replied with a chuckle. "You're sure you're up to it?"
"I've been worse," she replied. "I'll live. I can sleep in the car." She helped him finish packing their belongings. "No lecture?" She ventured finally.
"Just don't do it again," he replied as they headed out to the car.
"Don't think you have to worry about that," she muttered as she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled herself in. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken off like that. I was in a bad mood."
"So first you take it out on me, then on yourself. That's hardly productive behavior."
"Don't you think I know that?" She grumbled, watching out the window as he pulled away from the warehouse.
"I just don't think you're taking this very seriously."
"Oh, Christ, Nate. Of *course* I'm taking it seriously." She glanced over at him. "How can you even accuse me of that? So I'm not yelling it from the fucking rooftops. That doesn't mean I don't care." She leaned back in her seat. "Damnit. I never should have decided to do this..."
"You wanted answers."
"And all we've managed to do is argue the entire time." she reached out and turned up the radio. "I'm not mad at you."
"I know."
She closed her eyes. "We'll get through this, right?"
"Been through worse."
"Sure."
----
"You going to eat that?"
"Yes, I'm going to eat it," she swatted at him. "We're not in a hurry are we?"
"No," he replied, and settled back in his seat. "Feeling better?"
"A six hour nap'll do that, yeah." She poked at her dinner. "Yuck. They charcoaled this..."
"Send it back."
"Not worth the hassle." She snagged some french-fries from the plate. "I'll live."
"Decided what you want to do once we get back?"
"About what we found?" She pursed her lips. "I think... that we should just leave it. For now. Give myself some time to de-stress." She brushed her hair out of her face. "Guess I'm a little worried about what this is doing to me," she said. "Damnit, I hate feeling like this! It's so fucking frustrating."
"Hey," he reached out and covered her hand with his own. "Take as much time as you need. You don't have to push yourself."
She sighed. "I know, I know. It's just that it's been a couple months now, and I keep waiting for it to get better."
"It is, Dom. Maybe you have trouble seeing it, but I can tell. You're doing fine."
"Um...thanks." She said finally.
An amused look crept across his face. "Every day I have you is thanks enough, Dom." He teased.
She couldn't help but laugh, and threw her napkin at him.
----
It was well into the evening by the time Cable found himself pulling up in the now-familiar gravel drive, and parking the SUV in the garage along side Domino's battered jeep. Dom stretched sleepily and unfastened her seatbelt. He reached over and put a hand on her arm. "I'll take care of the bags. Why don't you just go on to bed."
Dom nodded mutely, not bothering to protest. She knew it was pretty pointless to argue--the sleep she'd caught on the drive had helped some, but she was still felling less than ideal. She took the keys and let herself into the house while Nate started gathering their bags out of the car. She stood in the darkened kitchen for a long moment, then made her way tiredly down the hall and flipped on the bedroom lights. She could hear Nate coming into the house as she opened the dresser and pulled out pajamas. He must have decided to leave the unpacking for the morning, because he entered the room empty handed. She pulled the tank top over her head and glanced over at him. "Nice to get back," she said finally.
"Yeah," he replied, and sat next to her on the bed. "How're you feeling?"
It wasn't really a question, she knew damned well that he could probably tell just from the psilink, but she gave him a slight smile and rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh, okay. Probably better than I have any right to, given how incredibly stupid that was of me. I'll be right as rain by morning, really."
He slid an arm around her waist. "Good." He paused, then leaned over and kissed her lightly.
"I didn't mean to worry you," she said. "Wasn't thinking."
He chuckled. "Yes you were. You were just thinking of the best way possible to piss me off."
"Probably," she replied wryly, and got up to turn back the covers on the bed.
----
A distraction. That's what Domino had called her decision to launch a full-scale remodeling effort on the house late last spring. Truthfully, it had needed work, but not on nearly the scale that Dom had decided to undertake, hauling him along as her unwitting co-participant.
Admittedly, they had come a long way in making the place habitable over the summer. Dom had lost herself in redecorating, dragging him around from store to store, more because it was better for her than sleeping the day away than any real interest in making the place 'homey.' She'd tackled the bedroom first, managing to get all of the bedding and the curtains in one blitz shopping session. Her choices were surprisingly low-key, in contrast to the sort of clothes she bought, anyway, and the room had ended up in mostly soft, warm grey tones that set off the blue in the wall color, and broken only by the heather colored sheets and pillows that he'd relented to, and was glad of afterwards. It was, he thought, a pretty good testament to her mood of late, not the false one she continued to display for everyone else but him, but a true reflection of the battle she was waging with herself, everything tinged with a quiet sort of pain she couldn't quite disguise. As a result, the whole room had a calm, muted feel, faintly reminiscent of the ocean.
From there she'd attacked the rest of the house--he'd helped her decide on the furniture for the living room, equally mellow in its colors, though the theme ran in tans and browns here, drawing off the woodwork around the fireplace and the hard-wood floors. Piece by piece, he'd watched it go from simply another small house to someplace that actually looked cared for, something that'd never really happened with the other places they'd lived in on and off over the years. It gave him the strangest feeling of permanency, which could have been the reason Dom had decided to do it in the first place.
The den she'd left alone, for the most part, since it was the default room for the television, stereo, and the small library they'd managed to accumulate between them. For people who'd spent their lives as soldiers, they'd certainly managed to acquire a fair number of books. It was also the only carpeted room in the house, which only enhanced the general feeling of warmth and coziness the rest of the rooms lacked, leaving it as a refuge of sorts. The kitchen wasn't done--there was painting to be done there as well, but they took breaks between projects, so that they weren't living in a constant construction zone. But she'd seen fit to buy all new plates, glasses and silverware, to replace the mismatched ones they'd originally brought with them.
Most recently, he'd found her peering into the spare bedroom thoughtfully, commenting idly that they should have put the communications equipment in the basement, instead. At his 'Why?' she'd merely shrugged to say she didn't know, but had somehow talked him into moving it all out long enough for her to paint the walls a sage green. As a result, the room looked even more bizarre, the tall locked cabinets that held their weapons and the high-tech communications array looking utterly out of place, in conflict with the room's original purpose.
He had half a mind to fix up a place for it in the basement now, if only to relive the startling dichotomy of the room, even if they had no real need for the extra bedroom. The thought caused him to chuckle. It was probably what she'd intended to do, knowing it would bug him until it was changed. Maybe she had a point--a room full of guns and space-aged technology really did detract from the amazing sense of normalcy she'd managed to achieve. In the basement, it wouldn't be nearly as intrusive.
Since the move, he'd found himself falling more and more into the regular rhythm of every day life, much to his own amusement. There were power tools on a shelf in the garage, a patio set out back, and even a gas grill Dom had gotten him as 'a birthday present' even though she'd known it was nowhere near his birthday.
At the moment, he was doing his damnedest to undo all that hard work.
"Y'know, not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, Nate? But remind me to stop you the next time you decided to try and cook me dinner. It's really pretty counter-productive to set the house on fire..."
"It was just a dish towel," he grumbled, and looked around with disgust at the disaster area the kitchen had become. "This is ridiculous."
She chuckled. "It is, rather. Now you see why I avoid cooking at all costs."
He sighed. "Well, I guess we're eating out tonight. Why don't you go change. I'll call around for reservations..."
"You're going to make me dress up, aren't you?"
"Well, since my attempt at a decent meal failed..."
She rolled her eyes. "Bastard."
He grinned.
----
"I should really kick your ass for this," Domino commented casually, sipping her iced tea.
"And why is that?"
"Nate. You dragged me out to an expensive restaurant on a half hour's notice. I look like shit."
"No you don't. You look great."
She rolled her eyes. "No, I do not," she sighed. "Don't lie."
"I'm not--" He ran a hand back through his hair. "You look fine."
"That's better."
He sighed. "There's a difference?"
"Yeah, there is." She fell silent, playing with the edge of her napkin.
"Look, I just thought--" He lowered his voice and leaned across the table. "I just thought that since we been living off take-out for the last two weeks, it'd be good to go out someplace nice. I won't do it again."
"Don't... Nate, let's just not fight over it, okay? It's stupid, and I'm tired of arguing all the time."
"Fine."
"Fine." She looked over her menu, a sullen expression stamped across her face.
"Look, if you're pissed at me for something, just spit it out."
"I'm not," she replied, then paused to give the server her order.
"The last time you acted like this, Dom," he replied, once their orders were placed and they were alone again, "you ended up walking out on me. Excuse me if I'd rather not repeat the experience."
"I'm not going to do that, Nathan," she breathed. "There are still days I'm sure that was the worst mistake I ever made."
"Is that a promise?" He asked, a bit more harshly than he'd intended.
"It's..." She pushed her hair out of her face. "Am I ever going to let myself get that frustrated with you again? No, I'm not. Things aren't even the same now, are they? You're not excluding me from some private war anymore." She took another sip of her drink. "I don't want to relive those three years any more than you do, Nathan."
"Good to know." They sat in silence as they waited on dinner. Nathan watched as Domino ripped open a sugar packet and dumped the contents into her glass. "How much sugar are you going to put in there?"
"Hoping to get a buzz off it," she deadpanned. "What? I'd like a fucking huge margarita right about now, but obviously that's not going to happen." She paused. "Nathan, if you don't stop brooding, I'm going to light my napkin on fire..."
"You wouldn't."
"Don't tempt me, Nate. I'm the crazy person here, remember?"
"You're not crazy."
"The hell," she snorted. "Seriously, though. Just...don't do the damned Summers angst thing, okay?"
"Summers...angst..."
"You know what I mean. You do it, your father does it, Alex does it... I've never met your grandfather, but I'd bet good money that Corsair does it too."
He sighed. "Fine, I won't brood if you stop whining about not being able to drink."
"You've got a deal."
----
"Look, I'm sorry about tonight. I know I wasn't really--"
"It's okay," he replied. "Though I think you scared the staff."
"Well, good. They looked like they needed a little excitement in their lives."
"You certainly gave them that."
She laughed, pushing past him into the bedroom. "Maybe next time, you'll give me more warning when you decide to drag me out," she replied as she undressed. "Though... it was fun seeing the looks on their faces," she said wistfully. "...Nate?"
"...yeah?"
"You gonna come to bed, or are you going to stand there all night?" She walked over and flipped back the covers on the bed. "You are so pathetic."
"Would you rather I *not* notice when you're standing there naked?" He unknotted his tie and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.
"Well, being able to carry on a conversation would be good," she replied, climbing into bed.
"You distract me."
"I suppose I should be glad of that," she replied, leaning back on the pillows. "If I can't charm you with my winning personality, at least I can strip to keep you captivated," she smirked.
"You have my undivided attention," he replied as he slid into bed next to her.
"Good." She turned on her side, fingers brushing along his jaw. "I really am sorry about dinner. I know you meant well."
"Don't worry about it," he replied, reaching for her.
She settled in against his side. "Yeah." She closed her eyes, willing herself to just relax. "I dunno... it's stupid but I feel like I'm trying too hard here or something. I just need to relax and stop getting so pissed off at everything."
"Well, it hasn't exactly been a stress-free few weeks," he replied. "You're entitled."
She laughed. "No, I'm not. Just because my life's a little fucked up doesn't mean I'm exempt from acting like a decent human being." She turned so they were face to face. "I've been treating you like crap, and you just sit here and take it. That's not what I want Nate. I don't want you to coddle me because you've suddenly got it in your head that I'm 'fragile,' okay? You're not going to hurt me, and we're not going to let some stupid fucking chemical imbalance rule over our lives. You understand me? No more of this shit we've both been pulling."
He slid his hands down her back, pulling her a little closer. "Okay. No more kid gloves."
----
It had gotten cold during the night, he could feel it in the stiff ache in his joints--the ones unaffected by the T-O anyway. Cruel irony, that. The part of him that was flesh and blood throbbed with a phantom trace of the agony that'd wracked him after Apocalypse's defeat, now two years distant.
Two years. Had it really been that long since he'd lain in the infirmary, the soft pressure of Jean's mind on his as she whispered comfort and held the virus at bay? Two years since he'd stood at death's door and found himself unable to take that step. His arms tightened instinctively around the form spooned against him. Domino murmured something indecipherable and pulled the down comforter closer around them.
"Hrmp...Nate, you okay?" She asked sleepily, peering over her shoulder at him, forehead creased in concern. Her worry glowed softly across the link.
"I'll be fine," he replied, and clamped down on the amount of discomfort he was leaking over to her. His hands slid along her skin, warm from sleep and the cocoon of blankets.
She rested her head against his chest. "Maybe you should talk to McCoy. If it's starting to bother you..."
"Maybe," he agreed. "It's usually not that bad."
She didn't reply, sighing softly as his hand brushed along her hip, the length of her thigh. He kissed the crown of her head. "I should have been there," she said finally, voice rising out of some mental deliberation. "At Akkaba. If I had been..."
"I don't know," he replied. "Maybe it was meant to be that way. You--" He stopped, then continued in a quieter voice. "No one else was keeping me here. Even while Jean was trying to save my life, she was letting me know it was okay, that I could let go if--" There was a sudden was of anguish from Dom's end of the link, and he put his arms around her again, hands resting against her bare stomach. "I couldn't go knowing you were mad at me," he said, a tinge of humor coloring his voice. "It worked out okay in the end."
----
She left him eventually, saying she had errands to run, seeing through his protests that he was fine. Besides, she'd pointed out ruthlessly, he did his share of worrying, and turnabout was fair play. The fact that he hadn't quite managed to totally dampen the pain leaking down the psilink hadn't helped his case either. She just hoped he'd had the common sense to go back to sleep like she'd told him to.
She wasn't sure why it was hitting her today. Maybe it was just the nature of the conversation they'd had that morning--she knew how close to dying he'd come, of course, she'd done a bit of snooping behind his back, and she'd seen signs before. But it was hard to think of him as anything but strong. She felt, quite absurdly, like crying. She walked around the perimeter of the yard, instead, idly picking up fallen branches from the lawn and pitching them off into the trees. Leaves were strewn across the lawn, crunching under foot and rattling in the breeze. She shivered, eyes casting furtively up at the grey, cloud-veiled sky as she tried to shake off the sudden, melancholy mood.
----
He'd slept after Dom had gone, and woke feeling marginally better, though he'd still winced when he got up. It wasn't so bad, however, and most of the lingering ache has been chased off by a hot shower. It was probably all of the driving that had done it--sitting in one position for long periods was always worse than when he could keep moving. He toweled his hair dry, then pulled on a sweater and jeans and went to find Dom.
She was in the back yard, crouched down to pet the large male tabby that had recently made their garage and surrounding property his hunting ground. Cable eyed the creature balefully as he approached across the lawn. Dom gave the cat one last scratch behind the ears and stood. Nathan could have sworn it gave him a smug look as it twined itself lazily around Dom's ankles before trotting off towards the trees.
"You're not feeding that thing, I hope," he said, watching the cat vanish.
"Of course not. If I did that, he'd get lazy and then we'd have mice in the house." She gave him an amused grin. "Jealous?"
"Of a cat?" He snorted. "Aside from the fact that you never use that baby-voice on me..."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she replied. "You're a good little Nate, yes you are. Killed the big bad ancient evil." She patted his head, then broke into helpless laughter at the indignant look on his face.
"Oath..." He shook his head. "You're incorrigible."
"Don't pretend you don't love it." She grinned, and he caught a flash of the old humor in her eyes.
He scooped her up, cradling her weight easily against him. "You're cold," he commented, feeling her shiver through the bulk of her pale lavender sweater.
"It's cold out," she replied with a shrug, looking up at him.
"Should have put a coat on."
"You're fussing."
"So?"
"So quit worrying so damned much," she murmured.
"You first."
"Touché. Put me down? My legs are getting cold." She wiggled her feet for emphasis, bare ankles exposed below the hem of her jeans, sock-less feet stuffed into battered running shoes, skin bone white in the chill air. He didn't let her down, instead carrying her around to the front door, swinging it open with his telekinesis as he climbed the front steps.
"Carrying me over the threshold?" She joked as he set her down just inside the door.
"What?"
She shook her head. "Never mind. Old wedding tradition." She walked over to the stove and grabbed the kettle.
"Ah."
"What?" She arched an eyebrow at him, filling the kettle and putting it back on the stove. She grabbed a can out of the cupboard.
"Nothing." He sat down at the table.
"O-kay..." Her expression was skeptical. "Makin' hot chocolate. You want some?" She shook the container in her hand.
"No thanks."
"You sure? I've got mini-marshmallows." He shot her a reproachful look, and she snickered. "You're really no fun."
"I'm lots of fun. I just don't like marshmallows."
"Oh, c'mon. They're almost pure sugar. No nutritional value whatsoever. What's not to love?" She sat down across from him while she waited for the water to boil, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to warm them. He reached over and took her hands in his own, warming and massaging away the little aches she hadn't even noticed until that moment. "My human heater." She gave him a lop-sided smile. "You're too good to me."
"Not possible," he replied, eyes locking on hers, expression suddenly serious.
"Nate..." She trailed off and took the opportunity to pull away as the kettle whistled, the momentary solemnity broken.
"We should really start raking up the yard," she said, returning with her drink.
"Probably."
Something about his tone didn't sit right with her. She sighed inwardly. Sometimes he could be so exasperating, his mood impossible to tell, even with the convenient direct link she had to his brain. "Look, just tell me what's the matter, okay?"
"I don't--" he looked down at the tabletop. "Not sure." He glanced up. "I'm sorry."
She stared at him, then blinked, and stared a little more. "You...apologized." She blinked again. "Who are you, and what have you done with Nate?"
"Dom..."
"I need to go check the basement for pods now..."
"Please?"
"Okay, okay." She paused. "Apology accepted... even if I'm not sure what exactly you're apologizing *for.* If you're gonna take up the practice, you could have at least made it something good."
He reached out and took her hand again, running his thumb across her scarred knuckles. "I'm sorry for all the time we wasted."
"That's...um...that's a good one, yeah," she replied. "I'm sorry for that too." Her mind slid back over the years, reliving the morning she'd woken with him asleep beside her and recognized the tugging in her chest for what it was, remembering the terror at admitting she loved him.
They'd made the admission to each other with the world dying around them, and were rendered helpless when it was restored, realizing they could never go back to 'friends' again, but trying to carry on as the always had despite the knowledge, until it tore them apart.
"I don't want to waste any more."
"Nate..." She felt herself slipping dangerously close to tears. 'Damn him,' she thought wildly, and brushed at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Hey." He slipped his hand into hers. "You okay?"
"I..." She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm being an idiot."
He tugged her hand gently. "C'mere," he said, and pulled her down into his lap when she'd come around to his side of the table. "There's nothing to apologize for." He reached out and brushed her long hair away from her face. "Okay?"
"Yeah, okay. I guess what you said this morning shook me up a bit." She rested her head on his shoulder.
"Well, I meant it. You were worth living for, Dom. This was worth it."
"Sometimes you're just entirely too understanding for your own good," she murmured, and he chuckled.