MA and Doug

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

Backdated literally a year because I am the worst.

MA and Doug on the ski trip. Just some idle-chat.


Marie-Ange was sitting near a crackling fireplace, with a sketch pad in her lap and a small plate of what looked to be both incredibly tasty and incredibly expensive snacks on the table next to her chair, when Doug walked up. He dropped a smallish white cardboard box on top of her pad, then flopped bonelessly into a neighboring chair. "Hi," he said, already sounding like he was shedding some of the stress of the previous week.

Doug was remarkably not snowy or red-faced. Or wearing much in the way of winter gear, except a scarf and jacket. "I thought everyone else had ski lessons?" She said, and then picked up the box. "Did you ignore ski lessons in favor of finding one of those lovely nerd events where you come back and give me free cards?"

"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?" Doug replied in his best Serious Charles Xavier tone, before snickering and nodding as he swung his legs over the arm of the chair. "Like I need ski lessons. I'm an upper middle class kid from Denver. I've been skiing since I was four."

Marie-Ange was already tearing into the little box, and flipping through cards. "Oh, some of these are shiny. Those are fun! I torture Artie with them." Making Artie push his powers by doing clever things with the reflection of light on oddly shaped objects was a fun past-time. Pushing her own powers by doing the same came first, of course. "I want a picture of you on skis from when you were four. I imagine you were adorable."

"Oh god, I don't want anyone to see pictures of me as a kid." Partly because there a few embarrassing pictures in his parents' photo albums, partly because then there was the risk of talking about Doug himself having kids at some point, which would just be awkward as hell to navigate. But mostly because, even if his sister hadn't been abducted in this universe (she'd gone to college on the West Coast from the start), Doug was trying to keep a distance between himself and his family to keep them out of danger, the same way he had previously.

"If I push, is this going to become very awkward very quickly?" Pointed questions were such a part of their relationship that Marie-Ange knew Doug had to be expecting one. Though perhaps not quite this one.

"It's already a bit awkward." But pointed questions were a part of their relationship. Doug got different things from the three important people in his life. Laurie was the mother hen of the group, Wade reminded everyone not to take themselves too seriously, and Marie-Ange was the one who prodded with pointed questions and kept him from getting complacent. "But I kind of expect you to push, so." He slumped further into his chair.

Pfft. Marie-Ange made a little huff sound. "No, we are on vacation, and I have had half a bottle of wine, and a pedicure and I am too relaxed to poke you with my pencils." She reached into the small box of pencils on the table next to her chair and then tossed Doug a mechanical pencil that still had a perfectly unused eraser. "Here, if you must poke yourself, this is a fresh pencil that I stole from your laptop bag."

Doug's slump subtly changed from challenged to actual relaxation, and he took the proffered pencil and tucked it behind his ear. "Half a bottle of wine and a pedicure, hm? Anything else you need to make the trip more enjoyable?"

"I was considering skiing to make the hot tub more enticing." Marie-Ange did not entirely hate the cold. "Plus I have all those cute ski clothes, I may as well use them. Wade went skiing and sunburned his face. If he was not so disgruntled, it may have been cute, except for the peeling. The peeling ..." She shuddered, remarkably disgusted for someone who could brush off viewing dead bodies as a 'so-so' afternoon.

Doug's nose wrinkled. "Ew. Sunburn peeling is not at all cute." And if he'd been there, he would have nagged Wade about sunscreen - too many people dismissed it on the slopes, but given the reflective quality of snow, a sunny day could quickly lead to uncomfortableness. "A dip in the hot tub definitely sounds relaxing."

"We should have brought Laurie." Except no, this was definitely X-Force's vacation and Jubilee hadn't brought Kurt. But it was a little unfair to Laurie regardless. It seemed like a non-sequitur, until Marie-Ange tugged down her top to show a bikini strap. "The hot tub seems less entertaining without all four of us."

Doug raised an eyebrow at the implication. "I suppose we'll have to make it up to her when we get back to the mansion, then," he observed. "Or at least, I will." He grinned as Marie-Ange went back to to flipping through the cards he had brought. "Nothing is better than beating a bunch of fedora-wearing jerks who are convinced that they're good enough to play on the Pro Tour and disabusing them of that delusion."

"Ew." Marie-Ange wrinkled her nose. "Trilbies and t-shirts are not a good combination." She much preferred Kevin's suit and hat, he wore them like he was born to it. Or Wade's, who was not as comfortable but knew to pair the hat with a suit, not jeans and a t-shirt of a rock band or video game. "So you spent the afternoon being Aaron Bardington, in your backwards ball cap and pocket protector?"

"I forwent the pocket protector," Doug shook his head. "And I'm pretty sure I retired the Bardington identity, the last name just seemed a bit too...something." Keeping cover identities straight, especially when you were regularly using them for something as prosaic as a Magic: the Gathering event, could get a bit unwieldy and headache-inducing. "So, ski slopes, hot tubs, and a day spa, what else does this place of Felicia's have to offer us?"

"You say that like she has a share in it." Of course, it was Felicia, and she was brilliant with numbers. She might just by now. "A slightly crooked casino, as casinos should be, and a remarkably good wine cellar." Marie-Ange offered. "You retired Aaron Bardington? But he was so cute with his glasses and messy hair in the ID. I will miss him, he was so fluffy, like the little sheep."

"Eh. Casinos." Those had lost their lustre for Doug somewhere around the second or third time they'd run afoul of Arcade and his peculiar antics. "The wine cellar sounds promising, if you're willing to endorse it as remarkably good." When in doubt, decompress with alcohol. "I'll find something just as fluffy for you to replace it with, promise."

"When is the last time you had fluffy hair?" Marie-Ange reached over to ruffle at Doug's short hair. It did not ruffle well. "This is flattering, and sophisticated and whatever other words your stylist has told you, but it is not fluffy."

Doug pursed his lips. "Who knows. Around the time I started needing fake identities?" With terrible puns and facial hair courtesy of Remy. "Or when I became Emma Frost's 'lapdog', to hear it from certain corners of the Club," he murmured, with his tongue hanging out in a way that was both reminiscent of a puppy and also alluded to just where those rumors about him and Emma headed.

"I would ask when we all become so sophisticated, but I was always this fashionable, even as an infant." Her cousin might argue, there was an infamous family picture of finger-paint covered overalls. "But no I think I understand you more when you are not fluffy. When you were fluffy things were... " Marie-Ange gestured. "Not that they are not like that now, we are all more honest about it."

"I think it took us a while to become more at ease with who we all were. Or maybe that was just me." Doug waved a hand negligently. "I mean, Wade's always been at ease with who he is, I think." He chuckled. "Granted, he's probably not at ease right now, given that sunburn..."

"You remember what he was like at sixteen though, yes?" Marie-Ange said, with a frown. "We are all a bit of a mess, but a working mess. Like my chalks box. Messy but it works for us." She leaned back in her chair and picked up a pencil. "I scheduled Wade for a facial to fix the sunburn peeling. His whole face looks like what happens when I forget to clean out a teapot."

Doug shuddered. "Now there's a mental image I could have done without." He flicked a finger to acknowledge Marie-Ange's point. "And yes, he was different at sixteen." He smiled. "I like your analogy, though. Messy, but it works for us." There had been a lot of rough patches on the way to 'us', and Doug certainly wouldn't have imagined a stable foursome as someplace he would wind up and be happy in, but life doesn't always go in expected directions.

"You can replace it by imagining Wade's face when I also tell him I am making him get a pedicure." Marie-Ange's nose scrunched up just thinking about Wade's toenails. They were not awful, certainly but... they were trimmed. sometimes. Occasionally.

A snickering fit came over Doug at the image. Wade wasn't a chauvinist per se, but he did have some more old-fashioned views on things like spa treatments. "Did you tell him he's not allowed to bring any knives to threaten the attendants with?"

"Not yet...."

Doug held up his closed fist. "Rock-paper-scissors-shoot!"