Wait, You're -Who-?! (Open to anyone who wants to keep breaking Nat's & Dylan's brains)
Mornings at the BPRD usually started out pretty much the same for Nat. Roll out of bed, head for the ensuite bathroom, hit the showers, get dressed and wander into the rather large, but still homey, kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. Except that morning was just a little bit different from the norm.
She had just filled her stainless steel Longhorns travel mug with coffee when she felt a tiny tingle at the back of her head right where she usually felt the Presence of another Immortal. But this was different. Not as strong. A look of confusion crossed her face and she turned from the counter to find a tall, lanky young man with scruffy stubble trying to tiptoe up to her. No sooner had she turned than he slammed his hand down on the countertop.
"Dammit!" he laughed. "I can never sneak up on you! How do you do it, Ma?"
The metal mug hit the floor with a splooshing clang, and Nat stared speechless at the guy. Ma?! How was that even possible? She'd been told by doctors and by her own Immortal friends that having biological children was simply out of the question. He had to have been mistaken, and Nat had been about to call him on it. Until she looked into his eyes.
They were her eyes. The same dark shade of chocolate brown she saw in the mirror every morning. It was like someone had taken a piece of her soul and transplanted it into another being. One who, if her hunch was right, was what was commonly called a pre-Immortal: an Immortal who hadn't had their First Death yet.
"Who are you?" she finally managed to croak.
"Dude! C'mon, it's me. Dylan. Dylan James Creed. Your bouncing baby boy. 'Cept I'm not really a baby anymore. And I don't really bounce. Well, except maybe when Sammy's involved, but yeah. Probably TMI for a mother's ears."
Nat's thumb and middle finger rubbed opposing eyebrows in a self comforting gesture. "That's impossible."
He held out his long arms straight out from his shoulders. "Living proof it's not. I mean, I never got the full story from you and Pops... Where is he anyway?"
"Who?"
"Pops. Dad. The Old Man. Big, tall, grouchy guy with fangs and claws."
"I have no idea who you're talking about. That sure as hell doesn't sound like someone I'd be interested in."
Dylan snorted. "So, what's he in the doghouse for now? I know your fights were pretty damn epic, but so was the making up." The eyebrow wiggle was pure mischievous irreverence.
"Gawd, really?" Nat groaned and started mopping up the spilled coffee. "There are just some things a son should not know about his parents' love lives. Even if I'm not even sure you are my son."
"Ouch, Ma. Brutal much?" He held his hand over his heart like he'd been mortally wounded. "I know you're cranky before you've had your coffee, but still. Here, lemme fix you another one..."
Before she could argue, Dylan had made her a fresh cup of coffee. It was exactly how she liked it, even with the heaping teaspoons of cocoa mix stirred in. Coffee and chocolate were two of her better-known vices. Even though she may not have been completely awake, she was pretty sure she hadn't felt him creeping up on her until after she'd fixed her first cup.
"How did you...?"
"Know that you put cocoa in your coffee?" Dylan grinned. "I've only seen you do it a bazillion times. Gimme a little credit. You really don't remember me, do you?"
Taking another sip of coffee, Nat shook her head.
"Wow. We've got a lot to talk about. Maybe you should sit down."
The young man, Nat guessed he was in his early twenties, led her over to a nearby table. The more she looked at him, the more she saw the resemblance: the way he moved, the way he spoke, his build, his longish dark hair, his dimpled chin. Which only made her wonder about the other half of his parentage.
"So, um, about your father..."
"Like I said, he's a grouch."
"But... fangs? Claws? Seriously?"
"Yep. Mutant. Big scary one at that."
"And I saw what in him, exactly?"
"I heard you say something to Aunt Kitty about him being an alpha male," Dylan replied. "Please tell me she's around. She'll vouch for me. Oh, and Sammy. Sammy knows all about me..."
There was a definite flirtatious note to his voice like he knew all about her too, and Nat nearly choked on her coffee.
"Sammy's not even two years old yet! What are you talking about?"
"You're kidding me, right? She just turned twenty-one two days ago. Had a big party for her and everything." But, at Nat's expression, Dylan's face fell and he raked both hands over his dark hair. It was a gesture she easily recognized. "Dude. This is just..."
"How do you think I feel?" Nat half-laughed. "You suddenly come out of nowhere, say you're my son and that you and my pseudo-niece are … well, you know. That's a lot to take in before breakfast."
"Tell me about it," Dylan grumbled. "Sammy's the love of my life, Ma. Now you're telling me she's still in diapers?! That you don't know who I am, and you and Pop never hooked up? Talk about a mind job."
"So, he's a mutant...?" Of course, Nat had heard the term. Kitty had already explained a lot about that, especially when she'd been pregnant with Sammy.
"Yeah. He's got this insane healing factor. Kinda figures since he and Uncle Logan are bros. Don't tell me. He doesn't know me, either."
"Probably not," Nat admitted. "Besides, he took off a few months ago. Just up and left. Kitty was pissed beyond belief."
"I can imagine," Dylan replied.
"So, um, did you inherit any of that?"
"What? The X-Gene? Sure did. It's kinda freaky though."
Nat raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean freaky?"
"I can turn into a black panther. Wanna see?"
Dylan didn't even bother waiting for an answer. Instead, he simply slid out of his seat and before Nat could say anything, there was indeed a lean, black panther prowling around the kitchen. Obviously, he'd had enough practice in shifing that he'd managed to change without tearing up his clothes. The panther purred and nuzzled her hand before shifting back into his human form again.
"Like I said. Freaky."
Nat rubbed at her face with both hands before running them over her hair, copying the gesture Dylan had obviously taken from her. She sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"I still have no idea how I ended up with a kid," she said finally. "I mean, I've been told all my life that I can't have any. And not only that, but I ended up with some cranky-assed mutant?"
Dylan let out a loud laugh. "You call him that all the time. Except you say 'that cranky-assed feral', but you love him. And, in his own, macho-man way, Pops loves you back. He just won't say it. He just stares at you like he wants to throw you over his shoulder and... well, you know."
"Dylan!"
"Okay, okay. TMI. Got it." He laughed again.
She just shook her head. "How did you end up here anyway?"
"Dunno," Dylan shrugged. "Kinda fell asleep during one of Jack's space/time lectures. The most I got out of it was that this is the BPRD where all the weirdness happens. Shit like this is par for the course. Just wasn't expecting to be plunked down in a parallel universe where no one remembers me."
If Nat didn't know any better, she'd swear he was actually pouting. On anyone else it would look petty and childish, but on Dylan it was actually endearing. She could tell he was, or at least could be, a total heartbreaker.
"Guess we should maybe go talk to Jack, see if we can't somehow get you back to your own timeline or whatever."
"Yeah, all that timey-wimey stuff is his wheelhouse. I never really bothered understanding it." Dylan agreed, and suddenly ran a hand over his stomach. "Do you think we could wait until after breakfast? I'm starving."
She had just filled her stainless steel Longhorns travel mug with coffee when she felt a tiny tingle at the back of her head right where she usually felt the Presence of another Immortal. But this was different. Not as strong. A look of confusion crossed her face and she turned from the counter to find a tall, lanky young man with scruffy stubble trying to tiptoe up to her. No sooner had she turned than he slammed his hand down on the countertop.
"Dammit!" he laughed. "I can never sneak up on you! How do you do it, Ma?"
The metal mug hit the floor with a splooshing clang, and Nat stared speechless at the guy. Ma?! How was that even possible? She'd been told by doctors and by her own Immortal friends that having biological children was simply out of the question. He had to have been mistaken, and Nat had been about to call him on it. Until she looked into his eyes.
They were her eyes. The same dark shade of chocolate brown she saw in the mirror every morning. It was like someone had taken a piece of her soul and transplanted it into another being. One who, if her hunch was right, was what was commonly called a pre-Immortal: an Immortal who hadn't had their First Death yet.
"Who are you?" she finally managed to croak.
"Dude! C'mon, it's me. Dylan. Dylan James Creed. Your bouncing baby boy. 'Cept I'm not really a baby anymore. And I don't really bounce. Well, except maybe when Sammy's involved, but yeah. Probably TMI for a mother's ears."
Nat's thumb and middle finger rubbed opposing eyebrows in a self comforting gesture. "That's impossible."
He held out his long arms straight out from his shoulders. "Living proof it's not. I mean, I never got the full story from you and Pops... Where is he anyway?"
"Who?"
"Pops. Dad. The Old Man. Big, tall, grouchy guy with fangs and claws."
"I have no idea who you're talking about. That sure as hell doesn't sound like someone I'd be interested in."
Dylan snorted. "So, what's he in the doghouse for now? I know your fights were pretty damn epic, but so was the making up." The eyebrow wiggle was pure mischievous irreverence.
"Gawd, really?" Nat groaned and started mopping up the spilled coffee. "There are just some things a son should not know about his parents' love lives. Even if I'm not even sure you are my son."
"Ouch, Ma. Brutal much?" He held his hand over his heart like he'd been mortally wounded. "I know you're cranky before you've had your coffee, but still. Here, lemme fix you another one..."
Before she could argue, Dylan had made her a fresh cup of coffee. It was exactly how she liked it, even with the heaping teaspoons of cocoa mix stirred in. Coffee and chocolate were two of her better-known vices. Even though she may not have been completely awake, she was pretty sure she hadn't felt him creeping up on her until after she'd fixed her first cup.
"How did you...?"
"Know that you put cocoa in your coffee?" Dylan grinned. "I've only seen you do it a bazillion times. Gimme a little credit. You really don't remember me, do you?"
Taking another sip of coffee, Nat shook her head.
"Wow. We've got a lot to talk about. Maybe you should sit down."
The young man, Nat guessed he was in his early twenties, led her over to a nearby table. The more she looked at him, the more she saw the resemblance: the way he moved, the way he spoke, his build, his longish dark hair, his dimpled chin. Which only made her wonder about the other half of his parentage.
"So, um, about your father..."
"Like I said, he's a grouch."
"But... fangs? Claws? Seriously?"
"Yep. Mutant. Big scary one at that."
"And I saw what in him, exactly?"
"I heard you say something to Aunt Kitty about him being an alpha male," Dylan replied. "Please tell me she's around. She'll vouch for me. Oh, and Sammy. Sammy knows all about me..."
There was a definite flirtatious note to his voice like he knew all about her too, and Nat nearly choked on her coffee.
"Sammy's not even two years old yet! What are you talking about?"
"You're kidding me, right? She just turned twenty-one two days ago. Had a big party for her and everything." But, at Nat's expression, Dylan's face fell and he raked both hands over his dark hair. It was a gesture she easily recognized. "Dude. This is just..."
"How do you think I feel?" Nat half-laughed. "You suddenly come out of nowhere, say you're my son and that you and my pseudo-niece are … well, you know. That's a lot to take in before breakfast."
"Tell me about it," Dylan grumbled. "Sammy's the love of my life, Ma. Now you're telling me she's still in diapers?! That you don't know who I am, and you and Pop never hooked up? Talk about a mind job."
"So, he's a mutant...?" Of course, Nat had heard the term. Kitty had already explained a lot about that, especially when she'd been pregnant with Sammy.
"Yeah. He's got this insane healing factor. Kinda figures since he and Uncle Logan are bros. Don't tell me. He doesn't know me, either."
"Probably not," Nat admitted. "Besides, he took off a few months ago. Just up and left. Kitty was pissed beyond belief."
"I can imagine," Dylan replied.
"So, um, did you inherit any of that?"
"What? The X-Gene? Sure did. It's kinda freaky though."
Nat raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean freaky?"
"I can turn into a black panther. Wanna see?"
Dylan didn't even bother waiting for an answer. Instead, he simply slid out of his seat and before Nat could say anything, there was indeed a lean, black panther prowling around the kitchen. Obviously, he'd had enough practice in shifing that he'd managed to change without tearing up his clothes. The panther purred and nuzzled her hand before shifting back into his human form again.
"Like I said. Freaky."
Nat rubbed at her face with both hands before running them over her hair, copying the gesture Dylan had obviously taken from her. She sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"I still have no idea how I ended up with a kid," she said finally. "I mean, I've been told all my life that I can't have any. And not only that, but I ended up with some cranky-assed mutant?"
Dylan let out a loud laugh. "You call him that all the time. Except you say 'that cranky-assed feral', but you love him. And, in his own, macho-man way, Pops loves you back. He just won't say it. He just stares at you like he wants to throw you over his shoulder and... well, you know."
"Dylan!"
"Okay, okay. TMI. Got it." He laughed again.
She just shook her head. "How did you end up here anyway?"
"Dunno," Dylan shrugged. "Kinda fell asleep during one of Jack's space/time lectures. The most I got out of it was that this is the BPRD where all the weirdness happens. Shit like this is par for the course. Just wasn't expecting to be plunked down in a parallel universe where no one remembers me."
If Nat didn't know any better, she'd swear he was actually pouting. On anyone else it would look petty and childish, but on Dylan it was actually endearing. She could tell he was, or at least could be, a total heartbreaker.
"Guess we should maybe go talk to Jack, see if we can't somehow get you back to your own timeline or whatever."
"Yeah, all that timey-wimey stuff is his wheelhouse. I never really bothered understanding it." Dylan agreed, and suddenly ran a hand over his stomach. "Do you think we could wait until after breakfast? I'm starving."