Possession Night
Apr. 4th, 2007 09:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsWanda's determined that everyone have a good time, even grumpy old Nate. They play a bit of catchup and, of course, drink.
Careful not to spill the liquid inside, Wanda placed two shot glasses down in front of Nathan as she nabbed the recently vacated seat across from him. "To share," she teased, pushing one of the glasses closer to him. "This renting out Harry's was the best idea anyone's had in a long time." She was already relaxed at this point. The drinks were good and the companionship that went along with it made it very easy to relax and get in the swing of things.
Nathan didn't look quite as relaxed, or as happy. The slight smile he'd been wearing so far this evening was a little more sardonic than usual, and he'd definitely hung back out of most of the conversations. No one had said anything as of yet. He had to wonder if this was Wanda's subtle way of pointing it out. Subtle being the operative word...
The smile grew fractionally and he nodded to her, picking up the shot glass. He'd finished his last beer a while ago. "Well, special occasion and all..."
"Several, actually," she responded, raising her shot glass in a toast, "but here's to the good ones. Happy belated birthday and Congratulations, Haller, Your Brain is In One Piece Day." Wanda had never kept mum her entire life...and if she started now, she wouldn't be the only person disappointed in her.
Nathan managed not to choke on his drink - just. "See, Wanda," he said, wheezing a little, "there this thing, that after you hit forty... you really stop counting. So birthdays? Not so big a deal. I'm just happy not to have spent this one in pain and/or unconscious."
"It's a birthday and, thus, if you do it right, there should be some sort of unconsciousness to be attained at least once during the day." Wanda grinned as she set her glass down on the table. "But the pain can be done without, yes. So, whole, as conscious as you can be this early into the evening, and with such an exciting life as the ones we lead? It is a good day."
The look she got would have been more than moderately withering if it wasn't for that lingering, defensive smile. "Uh-huh. Great day. Has anyone told you you're far too chipper?"
"Sometimes," she replied with a little smirk. "Chipper and far too hot for my own good, why, yes, I believe I have heard that on occasion. I take as many things as I can as compliments."
"I didn't say anything about hot, woman," Nathan grumbled, setting the empty shot glass down and leaning back in his seat, adjusting his arm in its sling almost automatically. "Now you're just fishing."
"I never need to fish," Wanda said airily and then tilted her head at his arm. She wasn't going to say a word about potential pain killers and drinking, not after she'd supplied him with a shot. And, besides, she wasn't going home to the good doctor. "How's your arm?" she asked instead.
"My arm is fine. One more injury to add to the list - it's not like it's not used to it." Really alarmingly true, come to think of it. "Nothing like surviving a plane crash with only a few bumps and bruises and then getting tackled out of a tree. I'm a bit put out by that. And then Logan rescued me."
"Gravity never was kind to you. And...oohh." None of the arguments with Logan had anything to do with her though she was less than amused at his behavior towards her brother. But she kept herself out as much as possible. Except for the occasional comment, of course. "I know how you feel about him--each other, I should say. That could not have been very conducive to your ego."
"Well, he's not rubbed my nose in it, which is unusually kind," Nathan said, stacking the shot glasses one on top of the other. "I'm not sure he remembers, actually. He was kind of blown to shit at the time."
"That would mess with the memory, certainly," Wanda mused. "I heard that Kurt wrote the mission report so I would avoid letting him know if I were you. The way things have been carrying on lately, I would not be surprised if he did say something and then the entire day is lost to snarky journal comments." Oh, perhaps still a little steamed at being dragged into the fight and the comments about her brother. Just a little bit.
"I don't feel any particular need to enlighten him. He owed me one anyway," Nathan said. "After I hauled him out of... wherever the hell that was, inside that mutant, after he stabbed me in the leg." He waved at the waitress, holding up two fingers and then pointing at the empty shot glasses. "We are most decidedly even."
"You haul anyone out of someone and you are automatically even no matter what the debt," Wanda proclaimed, shuddering slightly. "Stabbing you in the leg just adds to that." She sat back to let the waitress drop off the shots before leaning her forearms against the tabletop again. "We know very special people, you realize this, right?"
"Special - is that the word we're using these days?" Nathan tossed back the shot, then set the glass down. "Nice, euphemistic word."
Her glass was settled down right after his. "I am good at that," Wanda agreed, enjoying the slight burn of the drink. "I am...angry now. Upset. It is obscuring my view, it's why I tried to keep out of the argument. In the end, I do not have a lot of problems with a lot of people. They are just...special in their own way. But special can get the job done." Because when people weren't being stupid, she enjoyed all of their company, from Nate down to Logan. "Stephen and I broke up," she said, filling in the missing blank. "I am trying not to use that as an excuse to lash out in arguments I do not have much to do in."
Nathan was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said. "I mean, he and I never really got on very well, I know, but I know you and he-" He stopped, shrugged almost irritably. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
She couldn't help it, she laughed. "Oh, Nathan," Wanda sighed, shaking her head when she was done laughing. "What am I going to do with you? But thank you. At least you like me, that is all I can ask for in the end."
"Well, you have your moments. Your brother's a kick, too, by the way. Even if he does have terribly ambivalent feelings about my daughter." The smirk was decidedly nasty. "I need to enlist him to babysit."
If it was possible to choke on air, than Wanda was doing exactly that. She turned a funny shade of red before taking a deep breath. "You are joking, yes?" she asked and then reached over to grab at Nathan's good hand. "Free babysitting for a month, Nathan, if you manage this. For a month."
"~Little sister,~" he said in Askani, quite deliberately, "~I'd set my daughter on your twin for no return at all.~" He grinned crookedly. "I do like him, you know. But he needs to loosen up. And Rachel shatters people's dignity at whim."
She grinned, delighted as something in her brain stirred as if from a long sleep. "~You honor my family,~" she replied in kind before switching back to English, "in your own special way. And that she does. I cannot envision her teenage years without a little bit of dread, you realize. It is a good dread, though, since she will own anything in sight..."
"You mean she doesn't already?"
What better to talk about during Possession Night then, well, possession? Cain and Wanda finally talk about what happened—or didn't happen—in the boathouse.
Despite having rented Harry's out for their own use, the Xavier's (and Snow Valley) crowd seemed to fill up the whole establishment. That, Wanda decided, was simply from force of personality and not sheer numbers. She picked up another drink at the bar--rewarding Harry for remembering her tastes with a quick kiss to the check--before making her way to another table. "Cheers, Cain," she announced, sliding into the seat across from him.
"Wanda," Cain grumbled with a raise of his glass. "Hell of a week, huh?" It was an understatement, really. Between Haller's literally splintered mind breaking down and the rush to get all the alters back together, not to mention the skinny little twerp turning out to be his nephew, not to mention said nephew punching him halfway across the lakeshore - Cain thought "hell of a week" was the lightest way to put it.
"That is one way of putting it," Wanda agreed and took a long sip of her drink. "The next time Betsy and I go out drinking together, I sincerely hope no one's brain blows up and then decides to go running across town. I swear, 'interesting week' is the unofficial Xavier motto."
"Kid seems to have himself pretty squared away, all things considered," Cain looked past Wanda to where Haller was actually socializing with people. Would wonders never cease?
"So how 'bout you?" he asked with a grin. "The whole 'crazy voices in the head' bringing any flashbacks?"
Wanda pulled a face at Cain but then laughed, shaking her head. "A little bit. Oooh, the good old days." She snorted and glanced over her shoulder to look at Haller as well...and then giggled under her breath. "I will note that there was a distinct lack of naked or almost naked this time around."
"Thank God for small favors," Cain said quickly. For as annoying as it had been driving around with Cyndi in the truck, at least the pyrokinetic alter hadn't appeared naked. Something about a mid-twenties six-foot-four man manifesting part of his personality as a short teenaged punk rock girl didn't quite jive with Cain's world view, but as he was constantly told, his world view was a couple decades out of date.
"Well, I would not have been disappointed," Wanda responded, obviously amused. And comfortable. Which she might not have been a while ago, all things considering. There had been a glut of avoidance on both Cain and her part right after her own brush with possession. "But it was bad enough being naked in the woods, let alone the city, so I think everyone is glad that part was simply skipped."
Cain peered lecherously over the table at Wanda, barely suppressing a grin. "I don't know," he said innocently, "I kinda thought of that as sort of a side benefit of the whole possession thing."
Nearly swallowing a tongue, Wanda realized, was not only difficult but probably not very attractive. Banter with Cain was normal but this...she grinned. "Wasn't so bad from my end, either, once Charles gave me back those memories," she mused. "Haller never did ask me why you appeared to him in just your boxers..." The look on Nate's face...
Looking very pleased with himself, Cain leaned back against the wall and took a long drink of his beer. "Probably best we don't traumatize those folks prone to brain-leakage, you know. I still owe Nate a dunking in the lake for that one, though."
"For the interruption," she asked with a sly look, "or for breaking down your door?" Considering the damage her possessed-self had done to the boathouse, it was amazing she was able to keep a straight face.
"Either. Both." Cain finished his beer and reached out to pluck another already-filled glass from the bar where Harry knew just where to put it. "For the record, in case you were wonderin', I didn't exactly know it wasn't you in the driver's seat."
The smile Wanda gave him was a softer one than her earlier smirk. "I know," she responded, pausing to drain the rest of her beer. Keeping up with Cain might not be the smartest idea in the world but it would certainly be funny. "I never did apologize, did I? Spent most of the time sorting myself out and, cannot believe I am about to say this, but hiding a bit."
"Not like I was exactly braggin' about it," Cain said guiltily. "I mean, good thing Nate and the others barged in when they did. I ain't never been one to hold truck with takin' advantage of a gal, and even if I couldn't exactly tell..." He shrugged and lost himself for a moment in his two-pint glass.
Wanda glanced back at him sharply as she accepted her own new pint. "Cain," she said, waiting until she had his attention again. "If anyone was taken advantage of, it was you, though I suspect we could argue about that until the cows come home. And one could hardly call it being taken advantage of if I would have been more than a willing participant otherwise." Had anyone else said it, there might have been a hint of embarrassment in the words but she spoke the truth as frankly as she felt it.
"Fair enough," Cain said, taking a long swig of his beer. Then the actual words percolated through to his brain, and the majority of his beer wound up on the front of his shirt, and he overbalanced in his chair, thumping loudly onto the floor. "Wait, say what?"
There was a mischievous look to Wanda's eyes as she handed him a napkin, though she managed to keep her face calm. "I would have been willing under different circumstances," she repeated, taking another sip of her beer as she kept an eye on him. At this rate, she was going to give him another heart attack.
Futilely attempting to soak up the spilled beer from his shirt, Cain reddened as he looked at Wanda. She was definitely a fine figure of a woman, not like one of these gals nowadays who weighed less than his boots. And despite being less than half his age - who're you fooling, old man? Hardly any woman around outside a rest home what don't fall into that category - it was a tempting thought.
"May take you up on that sometime, then," he replied as casually as he could, trying to recover some dignity and another beer from Harry. "I just might."
If he had asked, then, she wouldn't have known the answer to the question. Even for her, it would have been too soon after the breakup with Stephen. But this had potential promise for later...
She grinned, widely, and then winked at him over the top of the pint glass. "Here's to that sometime, then," Wanda toasted, tilting her glass in a salute.
Tequila solves all problems. Not really but Nate sure is trying and Betsy feels the need to steal some.
The shots with Wanda had inspired him, and he'd decided in the end to give up on beer for the night - and switch to tequila. After all, if he was going to get properly drunk, he might as well do a proper job of it. He'd caught some of the others looking sideways at him for the switch, but Nathan had reasoned that he was an adult, well aware of his alcohol tolerances, and didn't need anyone telling him that he was going to be sicker than a dog in the morning. That was kind of the point.
Harry had even hesitated over handing over the bottle, but Nathan had glared, and over the bottle had come. He supposed the bartender had reasoned that he wasn't going to be allowed to get out of hand, not with so many other mansion folk here.
"Need help with that," Betsy said, taking the open seat next to him. "Or are you planning on keeping that all to yourself?"
"What, the tequila?" He was about a third of the way into the bottle already. At least he was still using a glass. "This is my bottle, Braddock, get your own..." He slid it away from her, quite deliberately, when she settled into the chair beside him.
"Aw, c'mon Dayspring," Betsy pouted. "Share the wealth, commiserating always works better if they're two people involved." She reached over him and grabbed the bottle, just as Harry timely placed the highball glass in front of her. She smiled mischievously at Nate as she poured. "Besides, I wanted your bottle."
He actually growled at her. "Shouldn't you be hanging off Jim?" he asked, sotto voce but acidly. "'Hurray, all the parts of my boyfriend are back where they belong!' and all?"
"Please," Betsy chided. "We are not discussing that at this moment." Looking over her shoulder, she watched as several people crowded around Haller. "And even if we were, you know better than to critique me while I'm full of drink. I get downright belligerent at times. So do what's smart and accept the company I'm offering you."
"If I wanted female company I'd be hopping a plane to Muir." He'd wanted to. Meetings and classes notwithstanding... Moira knew what tomorrow was, even if she hadn't brought it up. "And no offense, but you were never particularly my type." He hadn't snarled like this at Wanda, but then, he hadn't been quite as drunk earlier. It made perfect sense, really.
"Yes, I am. I'm everyone's type." Betsy scoffed. "And you are completely natters." She moved in closer to him, lowering her voice as she spoke. "And to say something like that in front of this lot. It's like setting a buffet out in front of vultures and then wonderingwhere'd the food gone? Of all people, you know how they talk. Seriously, what is wrong with--" Her words cut off, Betsy pulled back. "Oh." Her face showing recognition, speaking softer now, "Oh Nate, I... I didn't mean--"
"Never mind. We're here to celebrate the beauties of being possessed, remember?" Nathan smirked, then tossed back the tequila in his glass before refilling it. "Dysfunctional powers and dysfunctional minds and unwanted stowaways... we make a great bunch, don't we?" Except that his stowaway hadn't been unwanted. And he would frankly do anything to have her back. And it was a year today since he'd had to say goodbye again to her, too.
"Okay," Betsy stood, smiling softly. "I'll leave you and your bottle in peace. I'm sure there's some other person round here I can make due."
But he didn't want Betsy to leave, either. Not really. Nathan made a face and sipped at his tequila. "I'm going to be very hungover in the morning. I should drunk-dial Dom tonight so she can make fun of me. Would cheer her up, she's having an awful time with physical therapy." There would be no drunk-dialing of his wife, of course. Moira would not appreciate that.
"You asked me why I wasn't hanging on Jim's every word over there," Betsy sat back down, staring down at the glass and twirling it by its base. "It's hard to celebrate when it seems like everything you touch suffers. If I want to give him a little distance, let him get reacquainted and keep him sane longer? I can live with that. Now you are already corrupted and I, very well, don't mind tainting. So quit with the maudlin already," Betsy said, bringing her hand on top of his forearm, shaking him lightly. "We all have enough to go round, as it were."
Nathan nearly choked on his tequila - not at the shake, at her words. "Oh, yes. I forgot, I'm sitting with the Black Widow." He raised his glass in a toast to her. "Who drives men insane with her beauty. Or her comas. I'm not sure which, I could use a little help here?" Wide gray eyes were perfectly innocent. Just like his daughter's when she was about to do something that would have her mother cursing in Scots Gaelic. "As for me already being corrupt... yeah, I've got my own curse. I mean, what are you going to do? Induce my friends to be any more likely to up and die on me? I don't really think that's possible."
"Don't tempt the Elder Gods," Betsy said lightly, though tightening her grip on him. "They, unlike you, lack a witty sense of humor." She picked up her glass and drained it of its contents. "All right, so you can't tell me you're not amused by all of this....Possession Night?"
"The fact that we can half-fill the bar is terribly amusing, yes. And yet the diversity of experiences!" Nathan put a hand over his mouth in mock-shock. "It's amazing, Elisabeth, truly amazing. Oh, the humanity!"'
"Oh, shut it!" She hit him on the shoulder. "I'm serious! We've practically started a club for possessed mutants. Do you know the probability of being a mutant and getting possessed. Of course, I don't have the actual numbers but I don't need Forge to tell me that is it damn unlikely and yet our jolly group can fill a room. This is not normal."
"Yes, but we're priority targets," Nathan said cheerfully. "What we do, who we are... it's not got anything to do with being mutants. Or at least not everything." He tossed back what was in his glass, then refilled it. "It's proximity to world-changing influences."
"You're such a stubborn arse," Betsy said, looking at him while he poured his own glass, ignoring her empty one completely. Shaking her head, she purposefully reached for the bottle and poured herself another glassful. "I hope you remember how much so in the morning."
"Calling me stubborn is like saying that the sky is blue. Moira says that it's my defining characteristic," Nathan said helpfully. "The stubbornness. Not the blue. Which I am not. Blue, I mean." He paused, tilting his head. "Okay, that made more sense in my head. Of course I'm not blue, right?"
"Says the man bottle feeding the tequila." She rose up luxuriously, downed another glass of tequila, and wiggled her fingers down at him. "Care to make my night and give us a dance?"
Nathan looked down at his tequila. "Don't go anywhere," he told it and rose, taking Betsy's hand. He was perfectly steady on his feet, surprisingly enough. "One dance," he said to Betsy, "and then I go back to drinking until I can't walk. Deal?"
"Deal," she said moving in and smiling into his shoulder. "Pick something nice, will you?"
Careful not to spill the liquid inside, Wanda placed two shot glasses down in front of Nathan as she nabbed the recently vacated seat across from him. "To share," she teased, pushing one of the glasses closer to him. "This renting out Harry's was the best idea anyone's had in a long time." She was already relaxed at this point. The drinks were good and the companionship that went along with it made it very easy to relax and get in the swing of things.
Nathan didn't look quite as relaxed, or as happy. The slight smile he'd been wearing so far this evening was a little more sardonic than usual, and he'd definitely hung back out of most of the conversations. No one had said anything as of yet. He had to wonder if this was Wanda's subtle way of pointing it out. Subtle being the operative word...
The smile grew fractionally and he nodded to her, picking up the shot glass. He'd finished his last beer a while ago. "Well, special occasion and all..."
"Several, actually," she responded, raising her shot glass in a toast, "but here's to the good ones. Happy belated birthday and Congratulations, Haller, Your Brain is In One Piece Day." Wanda had never kept mum her entire life...and if she started now, she wouldn't be the only person disappointed in her.
Nathan managed not to choke on his drink - just. "See, Wanda," he said, wheezing a little, "there this thing, that after you hit forty... you really stop counting. So birthdays? Not so big a deal. I'm just happy not to have spent this one in pain and/or unconscious."
"It's a birthday and, thus, if you do it right, there should be some sort of unconsciousness to be attained at least once during the day." Wanda grinned as she set her glass down on the table. "But the pain can be done without, yes. So, whole, as conscious as you can be this early into the evening, and with such an exciting life as the ones we lead? It is a good day."
The look she got would have been more than moderately withering if it wasn't for that lingering, defensive smile. "Uh-huh. Great day. Has anyone told you you're far too chipper?"
"Sometimes," she replied with a little smirk. "Chipper and far too hot for my own good, why, yes, I believe I have heard that on occasion. I take as many things as I can as compliments."
"I didn't say anything about hot, woman," Nathan grumbled, setting the empty shot glass down and leaning back in his seat, adjusting his arm in its sling almost automatically. "Now you're just fishing."
"I never need to fish," Wanda said airily and then tilted her head at his arm. She wasn't going to say a word about potential pain killers and drinking, not after she'd supplied him with a shot. And, besides, she wasn't going home to the good doctor. "How's your arm?" she asked instead.
"My arm is fine. One more injury to add to the list - it's not like it's not used to it." Really alarmingly true, come to think of it. "Nothing like surviving a plane crash with only a few bumps and bruises and then getting tackled out of a tree. I'm a bit put out by that. And then Logan rescued me."
"Gravity never was kind to you. And...oohh." None of the arguments with Logan had anything to do with her though she was less than amused at his behavior towards her brother. But she kept herself out as much as possible. Except for the occasional comment, of course. "I know how you feel about him--each other, I should say. That could not have been very conducive to your ego."
"Well, he's not rubbed my nose in it, which is unusually kind," Nathan said, stacking the shot glasses one on top of the other. "I'm not sure he remembers, actually. He was kind of blown to shit at the time."
"That would mess with the memory, certainly," Wanda mused. "I heard that Kurt wrote the mission report so I would avoid letting him know if I were you. The way things have been carrying on lately, I would not be surprised if he did say something and then the entire day is lost to snarky journal comments." Oh, perhaps still a little steamed at being dragged into the fight and the comments about her brother. Just a little bit.
"I don't feel any particular need to enlighten him. He owed me one anyway," Nathan said. "After I hauled him out of... wherever the hell that was, inside that mutant, after he stabbed me in the leg." He waved at the waitress, holding up two fingers and then pointing at the empty shot glasses. "We are most decidedly even."
"You haul anyone out of someone and you are automatically even no matter what the debt," Wanda proclaimed, shuddering slightly. "Stabbing you in the leg just adds to that." She sat back to let the waitress drop off the shots before leaning her forearms against the tabletop again. "We know very special people, you realize this, right?"
"Special - is that the word we're using these days?" Nathan tossed back the shot, then set the glass down. "Nice, euphemistic word."
Her glass was settled down right after his. "I am good at that," Wanda agreed, enjoying the slight burn of the drink. "I am...angry now. Upset. It is obscuring my view, it's why I tried to keep out of the argument. In the end, I do not have a lot of problems with a lot of people. They are just...special in their own way. But special can get the job done." Because when people weren't being stupid, she enjoyed all of their company, from Nate down to Logan. "Stephen and I broke up," she said, filling in the missing blank. "I am trying not to use that as an excuse to lash out in arguments I do not have much to do in."
Nathan was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said. "I mean, he and I never really got on very well, I know, but I know you and he-" He stopped, shrugged almost irritably. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
She couldn't help it, she laughed. "Oh, Nathan," Wanda sighed, shaking her head when she was done laughing. "What am I going to do with you? But thank you. At least you like me, that is all I can ask for in the end."
"Well, you have your moments. Your brother's a kick, too, by the way. Even if he does have terribly ambivalent feelings about my daughter." The smirk was decidedly nasty. "I need to enlist him to babysit."
If it was possible to choke on air, than Wanda was doing exactly that. She turned a funny shade of red before taking a deep breath. "You are joking, yes?" she asked and then reached over to grab at Nathan's good hand. "Free babysitting for a month, Nathan, if you manage this. For a month."
"~Little sister,~" he said in Askani, quite deliberately, "~I'd set my daughter on your twin for no return at all.~" He grinned crookedly. "I do like him, you know. But he needs to loosen up. And Rachel shatters people's dignity at whim."
She grinned, delighted as something in her brain stirred as if from a long sleep. "~You honor my family,~" she replied in kind before switching back to English, "in your own special way. And that she does. I cannot envision her teenage years without a little bit of dread, you realize. It is a good dread, though, since she will own anything in sight..."
"You mean she doesn't already?"
What better to talk about during Possession Night then, well, possession? Cain and Wanda finally talk about what happened—or didn't happen—in the boathouse.
Despite having rented Harry's out for their own use, the Xavier's (and Snow Valley) crowd seemed to fill up the whole establishment. That, Wanda decided, was simply from force of personality and not sheer numbers. She picked up another drink at the bar--rewarding Harry for remembering her tastes with a quick kiss to the check--before making her way to another table. "Cheers, Cain," she announced, sliding into the seat across from him.
"Wanda," Cain grumbled with a raise of his glass. "Hell of a week, huh?" It was an understatement, really. Between Haller's literally splintered mind breaking down and the rush to get all the alters back together, not to mention the skinny little twerp turning out to be his nephew, not to mention said nephew punching him halfway across the lakeshore - Cain thought "hell of a week" was the lightest way to put it.
"That is one way of putting it," Wanda agreed and took a long sip of her drink. "The next time Betsy and I go out drinking together, I sincerely hope no one's brain blows up and then decides to go running across town. I swear, 'interesting week' is the unofficial Xavier motto."
"Kid seems to have himself pretty squared away, all things considered," Cain looked past Wanda to where Haller was actually socializing with people. Would wonders never cease?
"So how 'bout you?" he asked with a grin. "The whole 'crazy voices in the head' bringing any flashbacks?"
Wanda pulled a face at Cain but then laughed, shaking her head. "A little bit. Oooh, the good old days." She snorted and glanced over her shoulder to look at Haller as well...and then giggled under her breath. "I will note that there was a distinct lack of naked or almost naked this time around."
"Thank God for small favors," Cain said quickly. For as annoying as it had been driving around with Cyndi in the truck, at least the pyrokinetic alter hadn't appeared naked. Something about a mid-twenties six-foot-four man manifesting part of his personality as a short teenaged punk rock girl didn't quite jive with Cain's world view, but as he was constantly told, his world view was a couple decades out of date.
"Well, I would not have been disappointed," Wanda responded, obviously amused. And comfortable. Which she might not have been a while ago, all things considering. There had been a glut of avoidance on both Cain and her part right after her own brush with possession. "But it was bad enough being naked in the woods, let alone the city, so I think everyone is glad that part was simply skipped."
Cain peered lecherously over the table at Wanda, barely suppressing a grin. "I don't know," he said innocently, "I kinda thought of that as sort of a side benefit of the whole possession thing."
Nearly swallowing a tongue, Wanda realized, was not only difficult but probably not very attractive. Banter with Cain was normal but this...she grinned. "Wasn't so bad from my end, either, once Charles gave me back those memories," she mused. "Haller never did ask me why you appeared to him in just your boxers..." The look on Nate's face...
Looking very pleased with himself, Cain leaned back against the wall and took a long drink of his beer. "Probably best we don't traumatize those folks prone to brain-leakage, you know. I still owe Nate a dunking in the lake for that one, though."
"For the interruption," she asked with a sly look, "or for breaking down your door?" Considering the damage her possessed-self had done to the boathouse, it was amazing she was able to keep a straight face.
"Either. Both." Cain finished his beer and reached out to pluck another already-filled glass from the bar where Harry knew just where to put it. "For the record, in case you were wonderin', I didn't exactly know it wasn't you in the driver's seat."
The smile Wanda gave him was a softer one than her earlier smirk. "I know," she responded, pausing to drain the rest of her beer. Keeping up with Cain might not be the smartest idea in the world but it would certainly be funny. "I never did apologize, did I? Spent most of the time sorting myself out and, cannot believe I am about to say this, but hiding a bit."
"Not like I was exactly braggin' about it," Cain said guiltily. "I mean, good thing Nate and the others barged in when they did. I ain't never been one to hold truck with takin' advantage of a gal, and even if I couldn't exactly tell..." He shrugged and lost himself for a moment in his two-pint glass.
Wanda glanced back at him sharply as she accepted her own new pint. "Cain," she said, waiting until she had his attention again. "If anyone was taken advantage of, it was you, though I suspect we could argue about that until the cows come home. And one could hardly call it being taken advantage of if I would have been more than a willing participant otherwise." Had anyone else said it, there might have been a hint of embarrassment in the words but she spoke the truth as frankly as she felt it.
"Fair enough," Cain said, taking a long swig of his beer. Then the actual words percolated through to his brain, and the majority of his beer wound up on the front of his shirt, and he overbalanced in his chair, thumping loudly onto the floor. "Wait, say what?"
There was a mischievous look to Wanda's eyes as she handed him a napkin, though she managed to keep her face calm. "I would have been willing under different circumstances," she repeated, taking another sip of her beer as she kept an eye on him. At this rate, she was going to give him another heart attack.
Futilely attempting to soak up the spilled beer from his shirt, Cain reddened as he looked at Wanda. She was definitely a fine figure of a woman, not like one of these gals nowadays who weighed less than his boots. And despite being less than half his age - who're you fooling, old man? Hardly any woman around outside a rest home what don't fall into that category - it was a tempting thought.
"May take you up on that sometime, then," he replied as casually as he could, trying to recover some dignity and another beer from Harry. "I just might."
If he had asked, then, she wouldn't have known the answer to the question. Even for her, it would have been too soon after the breakup with Stephen. But this had potential promise for later...
She grinned, widely, and then winked at him over the top of the pint glass. "Here's to that sometime, then," Wanda toasted, tilting her glass in a salute.
Tequila solves all problems. Not really but Nate sure is trying and Betsy feels the need to steal some.
The shots with Wanda had inspired him, and he'd decided in the end to give up on beer for the night - and switch to tequila. After all, if he was going to get properly drunk, he might as well do a proper job of it. He'd caught some of the others looking sideways at him for the switch, but Nathan had reasoned that he was an adult, well aware of his alcohol tolerances, and didn't need anyone telling him that he was going to be sicker than a dog in the morning. That was kind of the point.
Harry had even hesitated over handing over the bottle, but Nathan had glared, and over the bottle had come. He supposed the bartender had reasoned that he wasn't going to be allowed to get out of hand, not with so many other mansion folk here.
"Need help with that," Betsy said, taking the open seat next to him. "Or are you planning on keeping that all to yourself?"
"What, the tequila?" He was about a third of the way into the bottle already. At least he was still using a glass. "This is my bottle, Braddock, get your own..." He slid it away from her, quite deliberately, when she settled into the chair beside him.
"Aw, c'mon Dayspring," Betsy pouted. "Share the wealth, commiserating always works better if they're two people involved." She reached over him and grabbed the bottle, just as Harry timely placed the highball glass in front of her. She smiled mischievously at Nate as she poured. "Besides, I wanted your bottle."
He actually growled at her. "Shouldn't you be hanging off Jim?" he asked, sotto voce but acidly. "'Hurray, all the parts of my boyfriend are back where they belong!' and all?"
"Please," Betsy chided. "We are not discussing that at this moment." Looking over her shoulder, she watched as several people crowded around Haller. "And even if we were, you know better than to critique me while I'm full of drink. I get downright belligerent at times. So do what's smart and accept the company I'm offering you."
"If I wanted female company I'd be hopping a plane to Muir." He'd wanted to. Meetings and classes notwithstanding... Moira knew what tomorrow was, even if she hadn't brought it up. "And no offense, but you were never particularly my type." He hadn't snarled like this at Wanda, but then, he hadn't been quite as drunk earlier. It made perfect sense, really.
"Yes, I am. I'm everyone's type." Betsy scoffed. "And you are completely natters." She moved in closer to him, lowering her voice as she spoke. "And to say something like that in front of this lot. It's like setting a buffet out in front of vultures and then wonderingwhere'd the food gone? Of all people, you know how they talk. Seriously, what is wrong with--" Her words cut off, Betsy pulled back. "Oh." Her face showing recognition, speaking softer now, "Oh Nate, I... I didn't mean--"
"Never mind. We're here to celebrate the beauties of being possessed, remember?" Nathan smirked, then tossed back the tequila in his glass before refilling it. "Dysfunctional powers and dysfunctional minds and unwanted stowaways... we make a great bunch, don't we?" Except that his stowaway hadn't been unwanted. And he would frankly do anything to have her back. And it was a year today since he'd had to say goodbye again to her, too.
"Okay," Betsy stood, smiling softly. "I'll leave you and your bottle in peace. I'm sure there's some other person round here I can make due."
But he didn't want Betsy to leave, either. Not really. Nathan made a face and sipped at his tequila. "I'm going to be very hungover in the morning. I should drunk-dial Dom tonight so she can make fun of me. Would cheer her up, she's having an awful time with physical therapy." There would be no drunk-dialing of his wife, of course. Moira would not appreciate that.
"You asked me why I wasn't hanging on Jim's every word over there," Betsy sat back down, staring down at the glass and twirling it by its base. "It's hard to celebrate when it seems like everything you touch suffers. If I want to give him a little distance, let him get reacquainted and keep him sane longer? I can live with that. Now you are already corrupted and I, very well, don't mind tainting. So quit with the maudlin already," Betsy said, bringing her hand on top of his forearm, shaking him lightly. "We all have enough to go round, as it were."
Nathan nearly choked on his tequila - not at the shake, at her words. "Oh, yes. I forgot, I'm sitting with the Black Widow." He raised his glass in a toast to her. "Who drives men insane with her beauty. Or her comas. I'm not sure which, I could use a little help here?" Wide gray eyes were perfectly innocent. Just like his daughter's when she was about to do something that would have her mother cursing in Scots Gaelic. "As for me already being corrupt... yeah, I've got my own curse. I mean, what are you going to do? Induce my friends to be any more likely to up and die on me? I don't really think that's possible."
"Don't tempt the Elder Gods," Betsy said lightly, though tightening her grip on him. "They, unlike you, lack a witty sense of humor." She picked up her glass and drained it of its contents. "All right, so you can't tell me you're not amused by all of this....Possession Night?"
"The fact that we can half-fill the bar is terribly amusing, yes. And yet the diversity of experiences!" Nathan put a hand over his mouth in mock-shock. "It's amazing, Elisabeth, truly amazing. Oh, the humanity!"'
"Oh, shut it!" She hit him on the shoulder. "I'm serious! We've practically started a club for possessed mutants. Do you know the probability of being a mutant and getting possessed. Of course, I don't have the actual numbers but I don't need Forge to tell me that is it damn unlikely and yet our jolly group can fill a room. This is not normal."
"Yes, but we're priority targets," Nathan said cheerfully. "What we do, who we are... it's not got anything to do with being mutants. Or at least not everything." He tossed back what was in his glass, then refilled it. "It's proximity to world-changing influences."
"You're such a stubborn arse," Betsy said, looking at him while he poured his own glass, ignoring her empty one completely. Shaking her head, she purposefully reached for the bottle and poured herself another glassful. "I hope you remember how much so in the morning."
"Calling me stubborn is like saying that the sky is blue. Moira says that it's my defining characteristic," Nathan said helpfully. "The stubbornness. Not the blue. Which I am not. Blue, I mean." He paused, tilting his head. "Okay, that made more sense in my head. Of course I'm not blue, right?"
"Says the man bottle feeding the tequila." She rose up luxuriously, downed another glass of tequila, and wiggled her fingers down at him. "Care to make my night and give us a dance?"
Nathan looked down at his tequila. "Don't go anywhere," he told it and rose, taking Betsy's hand. He was perfectly steady on his feet, surprisingly enough. "One dance," he said to Betsy, "and then I go back to drinking until I can't walk. Deal?"
"Deal," she said moving in and smiling into his shoulder. "Pick something nice, will you?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-04-05 02:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-05 04:31 am (UTC)