Reload
by ALC Punk!

A failure. That's what those military freaks had called her. An experiment gone--not wrong. Simply gone. Simply unable to do what they'd designed her for.

Designed, as if they could manipulate her DNA and change some core of her being so she could be what they wanted her to be. "Get ahead on life in the Army," She muttered under her breath. A whiff of her whiskey-laden breath might have killed a fly. She didn't notice.

It wasn't true, of course. She wasn't a failure. Failures died. And she was alive, wasn't she? Still capable of kicking ass and still damned smart.

She downed the shot and the bitter fire of it slid down her throat.

It chased more shots than she could count, now. She'd always had a high alcohol tolerance. It was something that made living tolerable.

::A misty, hazy night, some years before...::

"G'd'm't." Pete Wisdom's voice was nearly lost as his mouth simply refused to cooperate in forming the words he wished it to. Of course, his mouth wasn't the only deserter. He was teetering dangerously back and forth on his barstool. Sheer perversity kept him from falling off completely.

Domino smiled sweetly at him, "Give up?"

"Ne'er." But the words were belied as his body finally gave up and slid off the stool. Almost infinitely slowly, he toppled down to the floor where he sagged with a soft mumbling thump.

Peering down at him, violet eyes sparkled with amusement. "Should've listened to Bridge." She advised him, her voice nowhere near as fuzzy as his was.

He should have. Hell, Nathan should have. She eyed the thought, feeling grumpy.

Through a haze worse than Wisdom's had been those many years before, she noticed the approach of the bartender. It was a different one, this time. A woman. Vaguely wondering why she looked familiar, Domino waved a hand. "'Nother shot."

"No 'please'?" The young woman asked mildly, her eyebrow raising. Dark brown eyes assessed the mercenary, and Domino found herself returning the favour. Lightly tanned skin--as if the young woman spent time outdoors, doing active things. There were careful muscles underneath that rippled gently in her arms, accentuating the tattoo on her left bicep. Black pants covered her legs, and the top was black with purple accents. And sleeveless. Her dark chestnut hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

Meeting those brown eyes again, Domino saw amusement. "I never beg."

"Oh, no?" The eyebrow went even higher, and more amusement sparkled in her eyes. "I've heard otherwise."

Domino ignored this and began lining her shot glasses up. There were--more than she could count, and she frowned. They were all empty. "I thought--"

"Another one. No, I don't think so."

With a sigh, Domino stood. She only had to lean slightly on the bar for a moment before the world righted itself properly. "Then give me the bad news."

"It's on the house."

Suspicious, Domino tightened her grip on the bar. "Oh?"

The young woman chuckled. "I've been watching you for a while, at first I wasn't... sure. You really don't recognise me. I'd be offended, but I don't think we've ever officially met."

"Met?" Reaching surreptitiously, Dom located her glock.

"You're in a bar full of retired and off-duty cops," the young woman said calmly. "I really would take my hand off of that."

Narrowing her eyes, Domino shook her head. "I'll live."

"You probably would, too." For a moment, a far-away look touched her eyes. Then she half-grinned, "I'm Kitty Pryde. You might remember me as Shadowcat."

Blinking, Domino slowly relaxed, "Actually, Nate had you under 'Sprite'."

Kitty winced, "Wonderful. Do change it for me if you get the chance."

"Not likely, now." Domino replied, her lips tightening.

"Oh?"

To head off the speculative gleam in Pryde's eyes, Domino asked, "How's Wisdom these days?"

She stiffened. "Dead."

"Nah. That was a fake. To throw people off-track."

"How... Nice." Setting one hand on the bar, Pryde reached under it and brought up a bottle of scotch. "Join me?"

Eyeing the rather vintage label, Domino replied, "If you're buying."

"Private stash." With a tight smile and a few quick motions, Pryde set two shot glasses on the bar. The liquid in them gleamed golden in the light, as if it knew it was supposed to be expensive. Picking hers up, Pryde raised it, "To old lovers."

"And dead friends."

They clinked silently, then downed them. Domino marveled as the flavour rolled around her throat, then crept back to her tongue, carressing it like a lover. "That's good."

"Very good." With a slight nod, Pryde set it back where it had been. "If you'd like, give me an hour to finish my shift, and we can drink the rest."

Raising an eyebrow of her own, Domino shrugged, "Why would I want to?"

Tilting her head slightly, Pryde shrugged, "It could be amusing."

"Give me another shot, and I'll think about it."

A grin tugged at the corners of Kitty's mouth. "All right."

Intending to down the shot and skulk out of the bar, Domino instead found herself sipping it as Pryde headed back to deal with her customers. Perhaps she was staying--not that she was going to--because Pryde reminded her of herself. She snorted. Nope. Not that. Pryde couldn't be her; after all, Pryde had grown up with a mother and a father.

Or perhaps it was the people they had in common: Wisdom, mainly. Xavier. The ever-extended Summers family...

But that wasn't it, either, Domino reflected as she settled in her corner of the bar more comfortably. She was, simply, lonely. And for once, she was going to reach out and touch someone.

And not any of the off-duty cops eyeing her every so often, either. Her expression and posture were enough to keep them off her back.

One or two might have pressed things except that Pryde was chattering at them, laughing at their jokes and behaving as if she hadn't spent her teenage years being a mutant geek. Watching her, Domino wondered how much was real, and how much an act. Perhaps she'd taken lessons from Rogue.

When Kitty finally joined her, Domino found herself presented with a plate of potato skins. "What's this?"

"If you're going to continue, I'd suggest something to settle your stomach."

Domino eyed the grease-laden skins. "Good point." She picked one up and bit into with relish. "Mmm." She glanced at Kitty. "Hungry?"

"Ate earlier." Pryde settled herself and placed the bottle of whiskey on the table. "Dylan doesn't mind if I eat on the job--I think he worries when I drink. But--" she shrugged. "I don't do it often, so I doubt he has anything truly to worry about."

"Mm."

As if the sound had been a very intelligent comment, Kitty nodded. "Precisely. Of course, after Pete, I don't think I could become an alcoholic." She looked at her fingers, "I watched him drink away his pain and sadness. Or perhaps I merely saw only what he wanted me to see." She shook her head. "This is pointless. I'm sorry to ramble."

With careful deliberation, Domino opened the bottle and poured out two shots. "Rambling... Well, you could be prattling about boybands."

"Hrm. Did you hear the latest about Aaron Carter? I hear he was caught in a three-way with Britney and Christina." Kitty said, her voice sugary and bright. She stopped and downed her shot.

"...I may have to kill you if you continue."

With a grimace, Kitty poured herself another shot. "I may ask you to."

"How'd'you do it?" Feeling almost sober again, Domino eyed the level in the whiskey bottle.

"Do what?" Asked the other woman, her lids half-closed while she leaned back in her chair and contemplated something that might have once been spilled liquor on the edge of the small table.

"Stay so cheerful." Domino grimaced. "It's fucking annoying."

Kitty chuckled softly, then leaned forwards as if imparting a great secret. "I find it easier if I don't dwell on things. Life, death, they happen. Deal and move on."

"'S right," Domino agreed. She eyed Kitty. "How'd you get so smart?"

"How old were you when you started being a mercenary?" The other replied, her eyes going distant. "17? 18?"

"16."

"I was 13 when Emma Frost kidnapped me."

They were both silent for a moment, as if the statement carried its own curious power. Then Domino half-grinned. "I see."

Nodding slowly, Kitty gave her own answering smile. "I thought you might." She raised her glass. "To lost childhoods."

Silently, they drank again. Kitty gave a soft sigh and settled deeper into her side of the booth. "So...." She paused, as if considering what she wanted to say. Then she chuckled softly, "This is rather odd, you know. You knew Logan before I did. Has he... changed?"

Domino had lost track of what they'd talked about. She wasn't even sure she wanted to remember. They'd talked about the X-Men a lot, and Logan. Kitty had looked as if she were letting go of something, slowly sipping at her scotch. There had been very little need for Dom to respond beyond a grunt or nod.

They'd finally stumbled out of the bar around closing time. Kitty leaned heavily against the older woman, but seemed to revive when the cool air hit them.

"Let's head for my place."

Deciding she didn't want to face an empty and boring hotel room, Dom shrugged, "'K."

It was an interesting procession that made its way down the dark and windy streets of Chicago. The two stopped often to prop themselves against convenient streetlamps. Of the two, Domino was probably least affected. But even she was having difficulty staying precisely upright.

Really, it's not to be wondered at that the two were attacked in a darkened corner. The two assailants were sure of their mark, expecting to reap great rewards.

What they got was mocking laughter and four black eyes.

Even drunk, you should never attempt to sneak up on an X-Man. Even if Kitty wasn't certain Domino considered herself one, she still classified her as such. Hangers-on sounded wrong. And Kitty wasn't a mercenary.

She giggled to herself as they continued up the street. At least this time she wasn't sitting on one of the attackers.

Time, properly smashed, had gone for a lie down when Domino suddenly said, "Alistaire Stuart." "Hrm?" Kitty looked at her, eyes going between vague and twinkling.

"I knew him--before you did."

"Oh?" One eyebrow arched in interest.

"When he was up at Oxford. I was there on a job, casing one of the lesser colleges for someone. And I ran into him in a corridor. Well, him and his sister. Alys. Liked her right off when she dragged me down the pub with them."

Kitty chuckled. "And you drank them under the table?"

"I didn't dare, I was supposed to get in and out, sober."

"Riight."

"Ended up letting Stuart take me back to his rooms." A lopsided grin touched Dom's lips. "Had a--" She stopped, eyeing Kitty. "What?"

The other woman was half-choking, her hand over her mouth. Finally, she cleared the obstruction. "You and Alistaire. Oh, this is good. This requires tequila. Be right back."

When she'd returned, Cuervo held in one hand and two shotglasses with gold rims in the other, Domino asked, "So, why does me bonking the Professor require tequila?"

"You didn't know?" Kitty paused to open the tequila and pour herself a shot which she downed with a grimace. "I was hopelessly, madly, in love with Alistaire when I was 15. He never noticed me, not even when I flashed him. Always a bit more interested in Rachel. Damn her red hair and boobs." She grinned and poured another shot out, downing this one with less of a grimace.

Hooting, Dom essayed a grin of her own. "Between us, we corrupted that boy right proper."

"Sadly, I think Ray takes the lion's share," Kitty replied mournfully, her eyes twinkling.

"Ah, yes. The Summers' always were a bad influence."

Kitty refilled her shotglass from the bottle, then handed the bottle to Dom. "To timelost messiahs and their older sisters."

Ignoring the other shotglass, Domino raised the bottle. "Here, here."

They clinked glass to bottle, then downed a shot with gusto.

"Whooo." Kitty whistled. "So, tell me about Alistaire..."

Domino couldn't really tell if the clock was upside-down or right-side up. Kitty had collapsed forward, her elbows on the table. She'd been giggling a few minutes ago, but now there was the distinct sound of a snore rising from her chestnut curls.

"Pryde?"

"Hrrrmm?" Slowly, she raised her head, bleary eyes regarding Domino. "Oh. You're still here."

"So're you." Considering things, Domino decided that standing might not quite work yet. "Can you stand?"

Pryde tilted her head and nearly fell out of her chair. "I'm gonna say no." She replied, grimly gripping the edge of the table. Her knuckles were white.

"Ah." She considered, "Pryde?"

"Hrm?"

"Think you can crawl to your couch?"

Kitty eyed it, gauging the distance between her current position and the object which was continuing to get further and further away. She paused. "Dom?"

"Yeah?"

"When did we get to my apartment?"

"About... an hour ago?"

"Oh." Kitty tilted her head. "Is Xi'an about?"

"Nope. You said she was off visiting friends in southern Montana."

"..oh. Right. Yeah, she is."

"Couch, Pryde."

"Bed?"

"I think that's mine. I'm not carrying you."

"Damn. You can walk, can't you."

The mercenary grinned, "Better than you can crawl."

"Bitch."

"'Course."

Pryde eyed her in irritation, then shrugged. This time she did slowly slide from the chair. But it was sort of a controlled slide, and she ended up on her knees. "Couch. Right."

Leaving her to the crawling, Domino levered herself upright. She stood for a moment, both hands on the table, letting the room sway around her for a bit.

It was an almost comfortable swaying, really.

-end-

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© 2005 ALC Punk!