Scott, Alex, and Chris - Alaska, Wednesday night

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Three Summers men on a porch. No hitting this time!


"Well," Scott said coolly as his father stepped out onto the porch to join him. "You certainly took your time. Do I want to know what was so important in Madripoor?"

Chris shrugged, smiling slightly. He had been tense enough when he'd first arrived, despite the frequent phone calls and knowing that Phillip was both home and improving steadily. He'd only relaxed when they'd gotten him back here and he'd been able to see his father for himself. Scott couldn't help but empathize - reluctantly.

"Probably not," Chris answered amiably. "Although if you were really looking for the opportunity to be snide, I could always tell you." Scott snorted. "Far be it from me to deprive you of what little joy you might find in being around me."

"I think you'd enjoy that a little too much," Scott said.

"Oh, probably."

Alex had been helping his grandmother clean off the dinner table when he spotted first his brother and then his father disappear out onto the porch. He paused, staring after them, a casserole dish still in his hand. He bit his lip, debating whether or not to follow them.

Deborah came over and made the decision for him. She took the dish from his hands as she nodded towards the door with a knowing look. "You'd better go play peacemaker." She gave Alex a kiss on the cheek before shooing him after them.

After rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Alex returned the gesture before heading out to the porch, hands in his pockets. "You two are playing nice, right?"

"I was trying to get your brother to take a figurative swing at me, since he's too well-behaved to take a real one," Chris said innocently, "but he's repressing again." Scott rolled his eye and went over to sit down on the carved wooden bench set right where it could provide the best possible view of the mountains. "Mom sent you out, didn't she?" the older Summers asked Alex. "She has no faith in us whatsoever."

"Do you really blame her?" Alex asked as he easily swung up to sit on one of the porch railings, pointedly between where his brother was sitting and where his father was standing. "We've been expecting you two to come to blows again, figuratively or otherwise."

"I promised Jean I wouldn't," Scott grumbled, stretching out his legs. "You all need to knock it off."

"First impressions count for a lot," Chris said to him, "and we may be living that one down for a while." He smiled crookedly at Alex. "So, you don't look much the worse for wear despite letting your brother torment you and call it training..."

"Come on, Scott, we're a stubborn family. I bet you Jean's been keeping closer tabs on you then you thought." Alex said in a teasing tone that indicated it was most likely true as he swung his legs in a childlike manner. Then he grinned brightly at his father. "Are you kidding? It's tough and draining...and I'm loving every bit. No matter how hard it it, doesn't change the feeling of finally doing something good with my powers."

"Sounds sort of like boot camp," Chris said, raising an eyebrow at the look he got from Scott. "What? Some people thrive in that environment for the same reasons Alex just said."

"We're not the army," Scott muttered, but his expression softened slightly as he looked at Alex. "But he is doing well."

Alex couldn't help looking extremely proud at Scott's praise. "Whatever you call, it's doing lots of good. That's what counts right?"

"Theoretically, yes, although I'm not the best person to answer that question," Chris said cheerfully. "Pirate, and all..." A bark of laughter escaped Scott, and Chris shook his head at his eldest son, his smile turning reflective. "And technically, you know, you are a vigilante..."

"Never denied it."

"I don't know if moving from blows to oneupsmanship is a good sign or not." Alex teased pointedly, laughing at both of them. "I'll stick to the label surfer, thanks. Keeps people on their toes."

"You want them to underestimate you," Chris said wisely. "Clever. Throw enough 'dudes' at them and they've got to eventually leave you an opening."

"Dude! That's a great idea! What do you think Scott? Think we should work that into my training?" Alex joined in on the teasing, even if it was teasing of him. It was light hearted and not hurting anyone, thus a good subject to stay on when Scott and Chris were in the same area.

"I don't know, I think the puppy-dog eyes are a lot more useful than the dudely exclamations," Scott said dryly. "Although they're a double-edged sword. You don't need to be any more appealing in the eyes of the bad guys."

"Hey! Low blow." Alex said as he stuck out his tongue at his brother, not really hurt by the statement. That was his other motivation behind the training of course. No more baddies were going to take advantage of him. "And hey, I only have to be appealing enough to get them close enough to strike right?"

"No, you don't let them get close at all," Scott said, sounding half-amused, half-appalled. "How many times do I have to tell you? You have range. Don't give it up unless you have to. Because when you do, Hungarians beat the shit out of you and the like."

"I know, I know. Just the throwing energy thing still gets me. I like just blasting things. It's fun now that I don't have to worry about not turning it off." Alex replied with a chuckle and a glance at his dad to see how he was handling this.

Chris was smiling, obviously amused by the interplay. "I'm not going to ask about the Hungarians comment," he said. "Because I really, really don't want to know."

Scott opened his mouth as if reply, but then closed it again, eyes narrowing. Danger, Will Robinson! Potential bonding moment... avoid, avoid! he thought somewhat inanely. "Not much to tell," he said. "He's big and he's crazy, and when he's around me I apparently don't know how to get out of the way."

"That's just not around Nimrod, Scott, and you know it." Alex teased back, with a pointedly raised eyebrow. "You're as big a trouble magnet as me."

"Do you want to compare kidnapping counts?" Scott asked, actually relaxing into the banter for a moment before he remembered. Old pirate bastard of a father, right there...

"That hardly seems fair, Scott," Chris said, smiling slightly. "There are more kinds of trouble than kidnapping."

"Dad does have a point, Scott." Alex chuckled as he spoke, unable to keep a straight face as he noticed his brother relaxing and then un-relaxing when he realized who he was talking to.

"Oh, yes. Gang up on me. That's precisely the best strategy here." While Scott's tone was deadpan enough, he got up, eyeing the darkening sky for a moment before he turned back towards the door. "I should go see what Phillip's up to. He gets bored pretty easily these days."

"You just don't want to admit we're right." Was Alex's pointed reply as he hoped down off the railing, still all smiles. "I should go back and help Grandma with the dishes. It was what I was doing before she sent me out here to keep an eye on you two." He looked over at Chris. "Want to come help me Dad? I'll wash, you dry? You know she's love it."

"Your grandmother loves putting people to work," Chris said. "I think I've missed it."