LOG: Haroun and Domino - Working Out

[x-jetstream.livejournal.com]

Haroun's down in the Gym for a light workout when he comes across Domino in the middle of her own workout. They just can't seem to leave each other alone, things get hot, then the heavy weights and the heavy words drop. Haroun checks into Medical.



No violence tonight. There were a number of people who would probably be ridiculously surprised to know this, but there were times that Domino just needed to move. Not hit someone, or a punching bag, or practice with weapons. Just move.

She wasn't an Olympic-level gymnast and never had been, but she was pretty damned good, and her luck lent her a little extra help in that regard. Three careful flips took her down the length of the balance beam and Domino straightened smoothly.

Haroun wasn't a gymnast. Not even in his prime. Give him three unfettered dimensions to work in and he could do just fine, but groundbound he was no gymnast. And right now he wasn't much of anything else, either. While Forge had put the fear of God into him and his formerly-punishing workout regimen, today he just wanted to do some lifting, keep his muscle mass where he wanted it, and maybe lose himself a little in the striving. That plan, however, went right out the window when he saw his least-favorite living person doing ... gymnastics?

Domino didn't see him come in. All of her concentration was on what she was doing, as she started another tumbling pass, complete with moves that would have been more suited to the floor than a balance beam. She could feel the variables tilting back and forth, and pushed, navigating her way smoothly through the probabilities, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Haroun watched Domino move and had to admit she was _damned_ good. While he coudn't pull the moves she was demonstrating, he had a full case of the appreciation one athlete can extend to another. It didn't help that the harlot was sweating and wearing a leotard-type thing.

Her dismount was as perfect as the rest of her routine. Domino stuck the landing, straightening and letting the air in her lungs out on a long, contented sigh.

The contentment vanished abruptly as she saw who was standing in the doorway. "Ahoy, Plastic-Butt," she said cheerfully. "How's it hanging?"

Haroun rolled his eyes and marvelled _once again_ how she could go from zero to completely irritating in one sentence flat. He didn't bother to answer her question, but instead walked past the gymnastics and other workout gear to head into the Cage. The Cage was where the serious powerlifter gear was stored - multiple sets of freeweights, Nautilus, air-pressure resistance, the _works_. Even had a couple of benches for giving people like Piotr a decent workout.

Domino trailed along after him. Just to be perverse. She wasn't above childish behavior, after all, and she'd had to be so very good these last few weeks. "I would have stopped by and said hello before now, us being such close friends and all," she chattered, "but you know. Things. Came up."

"So I hear. Went off and got your ass used as bait, to hear it told." he told her as he racked up the freeweights. Before he set foot in the Gym he was just going to go through a light Nautilus workout, but Domino had a way of bringing out the absolute _worst_ in him. Effortlessly. Damn her. "Have a good time shacking up with Nate's family?"

Domino gave him a woeful look that would have melted the hardest heart - belonging to anyone who didn't know her. "I don't make jokes about your flirtation with dismemberment, do I? And actually, Nate's uncle is something of an ass. Not that we didn't all know that."

Haroun shrugged. "You probably wait until you're out of earshot." he said uncharitably. "Also heard you spent most of your visit to Africa flat on your back. Shouldn't surprise me, really." he said nastily, then tetched at himself inside his head. What _was it_, precisely, about the violet-eyed near-albino that put his back up and made him want to break her down? He wasn't sure, but what he _did_ know is that it didn't say good things about him.

Domino's expression went curiously neutral, suddenly, and she sat down on one of the weight benches, fiddling almost absently with the machine. "Heard that, did you?" she finally said, almost lightly, but there was a brittle edge to her voice that hadn't been there before.

Haroun nodded. "Yeah. Must be something about Africa." he said, and left it at that. Seems he _did_ have a depth to which he wouldn't sink with Domino. He had the weights all racked up - on the middle-to-heavy end of things for him. He was in maintenance mode, not looking to bulk up. He'd already regained some of his earlier muscle mass, but thanks to his continued inability to just surrender to the MMI he didn't want to push himself too hard.

"You know," Domino said, still fiddling with the machine, "I wasn't amusing myself, when Gideon grabbed me. Piers and I were in Angola to track down a lead on another one of those training camps."

Haroun nodded. "Of course you were." he said, and then chalked his hands to prepare to get some lifting done. At this weight, he could lift and carry on a conversation. "Just like Libya back in the late 90s?"

Domino sighed and rolled her eyes. "What about Libya in the late 90s? Keeping in mind that I was eighteen years old at the time..."

Haroun heh'ed as he began his reps. "Couldn't keep your clothes on then either." he grunted between reps. "Heard about a job up in Turkey. Heard you had yourself a little scare."

"You know, I really can't figure out why you're this interested in my sex life, al-Rashid. It doesn't seem particularly healthy."

"Gotta keep track of the Whore of Babylon somehow." he said as he wrapped up his first set. "You know _damned_ well that we'll never get along. I don't cotton to whores, and you take great delight in pissing on attitudes I find important." he said sharply. "But you're Nate's ward, so I put up with your shit."

"I'm a whore, am I? I suppose so," Domino said in the same brittle voice. "I've occasionally traded sex for information. Or food, in my early days."

"Pretty good indicator right there." he said. "But don't make it out like you only do it for altruistic reasons." he said as he racked up his second set.

"Well, see, those of us with non-medieval attitudes towards sex occasionally do it for fun, too." She didn't know why she was persisting. Damned judgemental ass. And the crack about spending all her time in Namibia on her back... not to mention Turkey...

"Of course." he said, granting her point. "But those of us who know how to behave properly know that it's not the having, it's the sheer multitudes and the callousness of it that's really the most offensive. Sex is great. It should be between people who _care about each other_, not some drunken copulation in a discotheque."

Domino tilted her head, her expression distant, speculative as she stared off in the direction of the opposite wall. "Sex is about power," she said finally. "You're the one on the top, or you're on the one on the bottom. You're getting hurt, or you're doing the hurting. I'm really glad for you if you grew up being told that sex was something wonderful, but that was what I learned when I was eight years old. You'll have to forgive me if it's a hard habit to break. Especially when I still wind up in situations," she said, biting off the end of each other, "where I'm not the one deciding to be flat on my back. Men in 'our' world are like that, I've noticed."

Haroun shook his head. "Don't give me that poor-little-old-me crap." he said sharply between reps of his second set. Heavier weights, so it took more out of him to lift it and bring it back down smoothly. "I know Nate would have told you different. So if you didn't listen, that's all you."

"Nate? Who used to blast people through walls if they touched him without him seeing them coming and who was nearly celibate for the first eight years I knew him? Oh, yes, he was just wonderfully enlightening on the subject of sex," Domino said waspishly. "GW tried. Of course, GW lived like a monk up until the last year or so, too. There are a number of our 'colleagues' who were under the impression that the two of them were a gay couple for the longest time, for the simple fact that you never saw either of them with a woman."

"So you're allergic to discipline?" he said as he hoisted the weights. "Or just morality? Nate was a widower, and GW is a very wise man with his head firmly screwed on straight."

"I actually tried to listen to them at first, because they seemed so very serious about it. Then," Domino said evenly, "the week I turned sixteen, Sebastian Shaw decided that I made a great incentive to get Nathan to work for him again."

"Bad habit you've got there, being used against the people who care about you." he snarked, working hard to finish up his second set. "You going to play the rape card now? Anything to deflect away from taking some responsibility." he said curtly. "I had a shitty childhood! Shaw raped me! I can't be held responsible!" he mocked. "That's a load of camelshit."

"Shaw was nowhere near any of the action," Domino said. "He wouldn't have dirtied his hands. No, it was the four 'contractors' who took turns with me for the better part of a week. I gather he didn't mind, mind you. Nate had been awfully impertinent, after all, turning him down like that. What better way to hammer the point home than to let his employees have some fun with Nate's female property?" Domino stared at him. "And you'd know all about treating women like property, wouldn't you?"

Haroun snorted. "Hardly. I spent a great deal of time and effort putting people who treated their women like property into the ground. Mostly because the same kind of man who'd treat a woman that way is the same kind who'd treat a mutant that way." he clarified helpfully. "But my point still stands. You don't get to dodge responsibility by playing the victim card."

"Victim card. I suppose that I probably deserved it, though, didn't I? You can't rape a whore, after all, can you?" Her voice was light, mocking, but part of her was taking a step back, rather appalled by how angry she was. Residue from the weeks in Namibia? Helplessness had never sat well with her, even when it hadn't been quite as bad as it might have been...

"You can, but it takes effort." he pointed out, racking the weights. "Look. There's hope for you, I think. You can still straighten out, fly right." he said, wondering why he was bothering. She was just going to throw it back in her face. "You don't have nearly the sense of modesty and decency for a hajib, and I know better than to even consider it. But you can do _much_ with just a few simple changes to the way you live your life."

"Did you just suggest that if I behaved better, I could maybe wear a headscarf?" Domino snarled, coming off the bench in one fluid movement. "You condescending son of a bitch!"

"I was actually thinking you might consider dressing more modestly and behaving more moderately when not on assignment. Covering yourself decently might help you avoid the kind of attention you seem to draw." he said mildly. "I've already lost the headscarf war once, I'm not about to fight it again. Just - tone it down. Cover yourself decently." he urged.

"Because it's the woman's responsibility to dress down and act down so that she doesn't attract adverse male attention," Domino said bitterly. Her eyes were stinging. Why were her eyes stinging? Son of a bitch... She wiped at them angrily. "Our responsibility to restrain you. And not take it personally when we're used because of you. And of course, I walk around half-naked all the fucking time!"

"From what I've seen, yeah, that's a fair assessment of your wardrobe." he said blandly. "And it is your responsibility to _do your part_. To act like you're worth more than just a cheap fuck in an alley somewhere. But, of course, if you're not then we can just drop this right here and now and I'll let you get back to it." he shot at her. "So which is it, Domino? Are you worth anything at all?"

Nathan would wring her neck if she picked a fight. Or took Haroun up on the fight he seemed to be picking. "For what I can do," she flung at him a bit disjointedly, blinking rapidly again. "And fuck you if you don't think that what I was doing in Africa this year was worthwhile."

"I didn't say that." he pointed out. "You might have found the time to do some good." he conceded. "When you restrain your need to find somebody to validate your existance by taking you to bed you do good work." he said.

"Once." Domino looked away, rubbing at her eyes again. "Once, in eight months, because the X-Men were on their way and I needed the intel on that camp in Chad. Of course, you probably don't believe me. Ask me if I care."

"Did you give a shit about him in any way other than for the intel he could provide?" he asked her gently.

"He had information we needed! You saw those kids. If a quick fuck in the back of the bastard's office got them out of that place sooner, wasn't it worth it?" She was all but shouting at him now. "What, should I have beaten it out of him instead? Would that have been preferable? Get the authorities on our tail for the sake of my virtue, instead of a quick transaction and no questions asked afterward?"

"Quite frankly, yes." he shot back. "I know damned well you know how to use a knife." he said in a calmer voice. "But instead you surrendered yourself to him." he said, shaking his head. "It's sad."

"So it's preferable to hurt someone? Have blood on your hands when there's no need for it? I know this might boggle your mind, given what I do, but I don't actually like leaving a trail of maimed reluctant informants behind me!"

"No, you'd rather violate yourself over and over again." he said, and then shook his head. "Forget it. You'll never listen, and I'm wasting my time. Go finish your workout, Domino." he said with a heavy sigh. "Should know better by now."

"You son of a bitch!" she seethed at him. "You think I enjoyed myself?" Angry tears sparkled in her eyes. "You're inconsistent, you know that? You think I'm the Whore of Babylon, and yet you think that I should have risked not being able to help those kids out of some abstract sense of morality?"

"I hope to never find out if you enjoy yourself when you're pumping an informant." he said, and then added some weight to the bar for his third and final set. "And there were _other ways_. In my experience, people get downright talktative when you demonstrate a willingness to sever their digits."

"If I'm such a worthless fucking person, why shouldn't I take the way that's safest and fastest for the people I'm trying to help?" Domino turned away, wiping at her eyes again. "What the fuck does it matter, when we got the kids out without having to deal with the Chadian army?"

"It should matter. To you at the very least. But as you've already shown us, you don't think much of yourself so I suppose sex-for-information's just another day on the job for you." he said, and then shook his head. "Now go finish up your workout." he said, getting back into position to do his last set of reps.

Something broke inside Domino at Haroun's words, some last vestige of reserve as he rubbed her nose in it, yet again. Coherent thought vanished in a surge of helpless, frustrated self-loathing and anger at him. Her eyes flashed and the weight bench abruptly collapsed.

Haroun fell gracelessly to the floor, but more importantly, the weight bar came down diagnonally across his chest, cutting off his ability to breathe. He had no leverage to lift the bar off his chest, given how the bench was pinning him in place.

Domino bolted forward and hauled it off him in a rush of panicked strength. "Oh, fuck... I'm sorry, I didn't do that deliberately... are you all right?"

Haroun spent his time trying to get some air back into his abused lungs. He didn't answer her right away, concentrating instead of keeping his breathing deep and even.

Domino knelt down beside him, her hands fluttering briefly, ineffectually, as if she hadn't been dealing with injured comrades in the field her entire adult life. Her vision was blurring again, and she took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm so sorry... Gideon did something to my powers, they're not working right... I didn't mean to do that..."

Haroun shot Domino a very skeptical look. Carefully, he picked himself out of the remains of the weight bench and let his hand splay against where the bar had been crushing him. He still wasn't speaking, instead thanking Allah that he was still alive. That bar could have killed him.

Domino watched him sit up, too grateful that he was moving to say anything for a moment. She suspected that powers accidents weren't precisely rare around here, but she hadn't meant this to happen, and didn't want to hurt him. He was Nate's friend, and much as she and Blaire butted heads, she didn't want to go damaging the woman's boyfriend.

It struck her, then, that she owed him something. "I hated it," she said, almost under her breath. "In Chad. I hated him, and I hated myself. And I was scared to death. Of him, and of not being able to help these kids, when so many of the ones in Darfur were dying before I could get them out..." She swallowed. "There. Not much of an apology for dropping a weight bench on you, but at least you know you were right the bloody spot-on in the preceding conversation." The British accent was edging her voice again all of a sudden.

"Then _stop_." he rasped out, still having a little trouble drawing in air. He might have bruised some of the muscles across his chest when the bar with all its weight landed on him. "Stop doing it. Use your head, not your crotch." he wheezed.

"I try." The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks finally, although her voice was clear, if soft. "I told myself, after that, that I was never doing it again. That I could find better ways and do what needed doing and be able not to wake up with nightmares... and it worked. Then I walked down the wrong street in Angola and all of a sudden I'm just a thing again. A pawn. He did something to my powers, and had me running around like a rat in a maze, and set me up so that I almost killed the man I love when he came to rescue me." Her jaw trembled, and Domino looked away. "It's a pattern, you know. I stand up straight and the world knocks me down again and puts me in my place. It's no wonder I find it easier to be on my back, I suppose."

Haroun shook his head. "Have ... faith." he rasped. "You need ... to love ... you." he coughed. "Same ... problem Nate ... has."

"I always wondered. If he saved me because we made eye contact and he saw himself." Wiping at her eyes again, Domino rose, then offered him both hands. "Come on," she said, her voice hoarse. "You need to let that new redhaired doctor check you out or something. So I know if I have to go find Alison and grovel about having broken anything."

He managed to snort, although the effort cost him. He turned ashen, and swayed just a little. "Maybe." he conceded, and then decided to save his breath. She'd made a breakthough, and he was filled with hope for her. She could still piss him off without even trying, really, but she'd let him see the scared broken little girl she truly was, and he had to respect that much. But he still wasn't going to let her hide behind that little girl as a shield for everything she'd done. He owed Abdol that much at least. But he did do one thing before he let her escort him down to Medical - he took both her hands in him and looked her in the eye. "Who ... are you?" he rasped, then shook his head to forestall her immediate reply. "Think about it."

She didn't answer until they were better than halfway through the infirmary. "Domino is who she's needed to be, always," she finally said, quietly. "Nadia? I have no idea who she is. I never have."

Haroun nodded to her words, not trusting his voice, not when he could still feel the iron bar across his chest. When they got to Medlab, he grabbed a pen and a pad of paper and jotted a note, then thrust it at Domino. The note was simple and to the point.

I don't like Domino.
I would like to meet Nadia sometime.