Cain and Domino, Sunday morning

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While the conscripted lawn force is mowing, Cain and Domino have a little chat that devolves into acting like eight-year-olds.



All these kids and all these lawnmovers. So very industrious, Domino
thought in amusement, leaning against the railing of the porch and
watching. It was like a small army, she thought.

Cain glanced over to the porch to see the young woman leaning against
the rail. Not a student, not one of the new - oh, that's right, he
reminded himself. Nate's friend, Domino. They'd spoken briefly once or
twice, last making small talk at the funeral. Cain smirked to himself,
remembering Nathan's jibe about her powers. He'd mentioned a few times
that the girl had a talent for making things go her way. Grinning and
walking over to the porch, he figured he'd see how that worked,
exactly.

"Perfect weather for yard work," he said to announce his presence. "Or
spectatin', I suppose."

Well, that was a disturbing grin. "Hey, Cain. Are you the one
organizing the concerted attack on the evil grass?" Domino asked
cheerily. "It looks to be going well... the grass should be
surrendering anytime now. I half-expect to see little white flags
going up everywhere."

"No, no," he explained. "No mercy here. This is an ethnic cleansing of
crabgrass. Chuck nixed the idea of me bringing in the B-52s with the
Agent Orange, more's the pity. Said we couldn't get all the kids
outside for it." He gave his best attempt at being serious, but the
laughter began to crack through. "So," he asked through the snickers,
"you up for taking a turn on the mower, or are you just waiting for
the football to pick up?"

"Actually," Domino said wryly, "I'm just out here to unwind a little,
thank you. Come tonight I'm taking two ferals on a four-plane plane
trip. Do you have any idea what ferals are like for large amounts of
time in confined spaces?" She laughed. "I need to be a little Zen
before I step on the first plane or there's liable to be bloodshed."

"You could always ship 'em freight," Marko joked. "But yeah, you might
be a bit dainty for a game of touch football with these kids. Some of
'em play a bit rough."

Domino raised an eyebrow, laughing at him this time. "Right. I might
break a nail." She regarded her nails, which were, to be honest, a
little ragged at the moment. The last week had been on the stressful
side, between Pete and the move to Tunis, and she'd always had the bad
habit of nail-biting when she was under stress. "And that would be a
tragedy."

Cain leaned back against the rail, amused that it put him just about
at the same height as Domino. "God forbid," he agreed. "Whatever would
the other debutantes say when you showed up to the ball without a
perfect manicure?" He tried for a moment to picture Domino as a
debutante - or in a dress at all for that manner - and cracked up
laughing again.

"I've been to balls," Domino protested mildly at the sudden outburst
of laughter. "Well, once. And I horrified everyone with my poor table
manners. Mostly because I was trying to distract them from noticing
Nate sneaking into the Chinese ambassador's study and... um,
nevermind?"

"Better than the other way around," Cain replied. "I can't imagine
Nate trying to steal the show on a dance floor at one of them big
society galas. I have a sneaking suspicion he's got a velour leisure
suit somewhere in that closet, just in case disco makes a comeback."
Smirking, Cain looked around. "Of course, you're too young to remember
disco and I slept through that whole era, so maybe he has the right
idea there. Who knows?"

The idea of Nate in a leisure suit was snickerworthy. Definitely.
"I'll just be over here washing out my brain," Domino quipped. "And
you'd be surprised at how well Nate dances. It's been part of our
cover all kinds of times."

"He's all excited about dancing at the wedding," Cain noted. "Even if
Moira's making him wear a skirt. Hope it ain't drafty there. I hear
Scotland tends to be a bit breezy." He looked across the lawn, pausing
briefly to step away from the deck to yell at Kyle, who was riding the
lawn mower in high-speed circles around the oak grove.

"Anyway," he said as he returned to lean against the railing once
more. "you're makin' it to the wedding, yeah? Moira said something
about bridesmaids and seafoam green..."

Domino rolled her eyes. "Oh, we'll all be there," she said, amused.
"But part of the deal was that Moira wasn't going to ask me to wear
anything appalling, and I was in return going to behave myself.
Scrupulously." Besides, the person she'd have preferred to misbehave
with wasn't going to be there. The thought made her more a little
morose, and she smiled brightly at Cain to cover it. "I saw pictures
of the dress. Moira's, I mean. For all that she's complaining about
how big she is, which she isn't, really, she's going to look
beautiful." See? I can be girly too.

"Of course she will," Cain said with a nod. "An' I already told Nate
that no matter how spry he's feeling, I get a dance with the bride at
the reception. Just gotta remember how the steps go, is all."

"It's about time they got around to doing this. I suppose the last six
months haven't precisely been conducive to planning a wedding though,
have they?" Domino smirked. "You suppose she'll write 'I will love,
honor, cherish, and promise to stay out of the medlab' into his vows?
I think that would be a good idea, don't you?"

Cain snorted at that one. "Setting him up for failure there. Nah, it's
inevitable. He does tend to be on the accident-prone side of things.
Still, balancing bein' an X-Man with bein' a husband and father ain't
gonna be easy. S'part of why I'm gonna do my best to help keep him
from dropping another building on his brain every time we go out to
the field." When we eventually do, Cain added silently.

"I'm sure Moira will bless your name at periodic intervals." Domino
watched the kids with their lawnmowers, smiling a little. "I miss this
place whenever I leave, you know. It grows on you."

"So stay," Cain said, then did a double take. "I mean, um, you know
this place. Takes in all kinds. Have to admit I'm going to miss Ani
when she leaves. She's been a breath of fresh air, you know? Shame
everything had to happen like it did."

"Yeah." Domino couldn't help the wistful note in her voice as Mick and
Tim's faces danced through her memory. She'd miss Mick terribly, and
she didn't think she'd ever stop regretting not getting the chance to
know Tim. "But," she went on more briskly, "I don't think I'm ready to
settle down anywhere just yet. The young are restless creatures and
all, you know." She shrugged a little, smiling again. "Figured I'd go
looking for semi-productive ways to spend my time while we wait for
the heat from Wisdom's little career change to die down."

"Semi-productive meaning profitable, yeah?" Cain said quietly, then
smirked. "Always thought you were a bit young to be a merc. Y'ever
think there's stuff out there you're missing out on? Social gatherings
where you ain't trying to kill people, football games, mowing the
lawn?" Cain looked briefly out at the students laughing and joking
with each other. "Me, I know I ain't going to have a normal life
anywhere. Can't. But days like this, it's almost enough to pretend,
you know?"

Domino looked at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "I was eight
years old when they first gave me a knife and threw me into the combat
pit, in Hong Kong," she said. "The only thing I remember from my life
before that is my mother, and only because the bastard running the
combat pits killed her in front of me about a week before that." She
shrugged, not quite diffidently. "At least doing what I do, I make the
choices. And I don't get used anymore... most of the time." Her lips
twitched in a humorless smile.

If Cain felt any shock or sympathy at Dom's confession, he wasn't
showing it. "I can respect that," he finally said. "Whatever you've
got, might not be a lot but you know you've come into it on your own
and fought for it. Suppose that's as important as anything else." He
glanced over his shoulder at the mansion. "Still, y'know, it's
probably been said a million times, but the door's always open."

Clearing his throat after a moment of awkward silence, Cain tried the
grin again. "So Nate tells me your schtick is that you're lucky,
things tend to go your way, eh?"

Domino had smiled a bit, more naturally at Cain's first words, but the
smile turned into a wary grin at the question. Oh, here it
comes. "Probability-warping, yeah. Not under conscious control
like Wanda's, either. Moira told me once she figured it was a
combination of probability-warping and unconscious short-range
precognition. Ran me through a bunch of tests a few years back."

Cain nodded. "Things just fall into place, eh? Hm. Suppose the name
makes sense now. I just figured your parents were weird gambling
hippies or something. So that bein' what it is, you feel up to a
little wager?" This time, Cain didn't even bother to try hiding the
predatory grin.

Domino raised an eyebrow. "I love wagers," she said brightly, putting
on her best 'I'm a ditz, feel free to take advantage of me!' face. Not
that Cain wouldn't see right through it. "What did you have in mind?"

"Wedding coming up," he reminded her. "So I was thinking, you win -
I'll protect you from any flying bouquets that we all just know will
have an ironic tendency to fall into your lap. I win? I get to see
just how well you dance when you aren't trying to make a distraction."
He knelt down by the flowerbed, fiddling with one of his boots. "Sound
fair?"

"That sounds eminently fair to me," Domino said, grinning madly. "One
of those win-win scenarios, as a matter of fact. So, terms of the
wager?"

Cain stood up, the garden hose in his hand. "You make it to the front
door dry." He shot a stream of water in between her feet as a warning
shot, followed by a smile. "Go."

Domino was over the railing and on the grass almost before the last
word was out of his mouth. She had felt her power push her away from
the back door in a way that tended to suggest to her that it was
locked, and besides, she didn't think Cain meant for her to make for
the front door that way. She felt her power tug again, and spared a
moment to wonder if Cain had kept his feet well clear of the hose.

Laughing, Cain followed the young mercenary, intentionally missing her
as they rounded the corner of the house. Seeing her jump over the
wheelbarrow he'd remembered was on the cobblestone path, he had a
small second of admiration before sighting down the hose.

"Bang," he declared, lifting his thumb. To his surprise, no water came
from the hose. He glared down in puzzlement, then looked up in
annoyance to where Domino was casually leaning against the front door
and waving. "Blasted lucky little..." he glanced down at the mouth of
the hose -

- just as he happened to lift his foot off of the looped portion of it
that had conveniently been stepped on. Spluttering and staggering from
the sudden blast of cold water to the face, Cain sat down roughly on
the lawn, momentarily speechless.

Domino sauntered back over to where Cain was sitting, trying very hard
not to grin from ear-to-ear. It wasn't nice to gloat, after all. "Had
a worrying moment there," she confessed cheerfully. "Wasn't sure just
how many variables were there, but it looks like I only needed a
couple."

"Yeah, yeah," Cain groused, frowning at the puddle he found himself
sitting in. "Help an old man up?" He extended his hand, allowing
Domino to take it in both of hers, then hauling her down onto her back
in the wet grass. "Hah!" he declared triumphantly, not caring whether
or not she'd let him get away with it. "Youth and energy have nothing
on age and treachery."

Domino let out a yelp, but then couldn't stop giggling. And she hated
giggling, because she always sounded about fifteen years old when she
did it. "What is it with me, men, and water? Getting to be a
disturbing trend here..."

Cain laughed out loud, laying flat on his back under the warm sun, not
caring about the water seeping into his shirt and the back of his
jeans. "Like I said," he mused, "perfect weather for yard work. Or
spectatin'," he added thoughtfully.

"Maybe we don't really have to leave until tomorrow," Domino mused,
staring out at the grounds. A couple of the kids had noticed the
byplay and had stopped to stare. She waved at them blithely. "I mean,
like I'm in a hurry to get back to Tunisia. Right."

"Right," Cain answered. "Ain't like Africa's going anywhere." He sat
up briefly. "Lawn ain't gonna mow itself!" he bellowed at the gawkers,
then looked down at Domino. Fer chrissakes, Marko, he chided
himself briefly. You could be her grandfather. Or older uncle, at
least...

"I'd best make sure none of the little delinquents are mowing obscene
messages into the South Lawn," he said finally, rolling up to his
knees. "Last thing I need is the FAA knocking on the door wanting to
know why my backyard reads FUCK OFF from twenty thousand feet..."

Domino bounced back to her feet. "And I think I need to change," she
said primly. "My clothes are all wet and clingy, and people might be
offended." She looked up at him, violet eyes dancing wickedly. "On
purely aesthetic grounds, of course."

"Let 'em," Cain responded, "Do a couple of these kids a good scare to
see the adults having as much fun as they do. 'Course," he added,
"jury's still out on which category you fall into."

"Eh, I've stopped being bothered by that," Domino said, brushing off
what grass and dirt she could as she straightened again. "It keeps
people's reactions unpredictable, and that's almost always to my
benefit, so why look a gift horse in the mouth?"

"Tell me about it." Cain peeled his t-shirt over his head, wringing
water out of it before slipping it back on. "Just how old are
you, anyway?" he asked.

"Twenty-three going on forty. Or going on sixteen, depending on what
day it is," Domino said with a perfectly straight face. "And, you
know, what needs blowing up."

"Twenty-three..." Cain repeated, slightly stunned. "When I was your
age, I was..." he stopped there, doing an internal double take. "Come
to think of it, when I was your age, I was carting a machine gun
around the highlands of Vietnam, so I don't suppose I've got any room
to talk. On a more amusing note," he added, openly admiring the
aforementioned clinginess of Domino's clothing, "what say we go give
Nate another heart attack and tell him we're eloping? I think he's due
for his monthly medical visit."

"Oooh! Let's!" Domino said exuberantly, and bounced. Quite
deliberately. "After all that crap he gave me about rebound
relationships," she said more darkly, "he deserves a heart attack.
Just a little one, mind you."

Cain grinned and offered Domino his elbow, heading for the mansion. "I
wonder if I should call him 'dad'.