Conversation on the fly...
“Hey, Misha, I think I ratted on you and it wasn’t on purpose.”
The first words out of his cell phone made him smile. Sammy never actually uttered a greeting when she called him. She never said goodbye, either.
“So what you’re saying is that you didn’t enjoy ratting on me this time,” he drawled. The day was breezy through the car windows, the engine purring under the hood, and he was on his way to the twice weekly Little League practice outside of Salem Center. He’d been coaching the team for the third year running and loved every second of it. He loved sports, was good at all of them, and there was no way he could ever play professionally. Not with his mutant ability. It wouldn’t be fair and there would be too much attention. The next best thing was coaching the kids.
“Well no, I’m not saying that at all. I love sinking you every chance I get, but my timing is usually better.” Sammy leaned on her elbow and blew a sigh at the open page in front of her. This sucked. Why did she want a degree again? Oh yeah, world domination. “Where are you? Are you driving?”
“Of course I am. Can’t you hear the engine noise?” He put the phone by the dash and pressed down on the accelerator. “How’s that?” he asked a moment later.
“It sounds like you need to hand over the keys and let a real driver handle her.”
“Nobody gets their hands on my car, darlin’, not even you.”
Sammy wished she was riding shotgun and didn’t have to think about the paper due in five days. Some days it didn't feel like school was worth the hassle. “The reason I called is that I accidentally spilled to Anya about your coaching. I honestly thought she knew and I think she was upset about not knowing.”
“So that’s why she wasn’t talking to me,” he hedged. Anya not talking to him had lasted all of five seconds before she was outing him to their mother. Why it was so important to her, he’d never know. Dad knew, of course, and Mom’s lack of surprise said that Dad had told her at some point. He had to make it up to Anya for neglecting to include her, if she remembered five minutes from now. Chances were he'd hear from her again when Anya had the urge to slum it from her party shopper girl lifestyle.
“I’m sorry, Misha. I owe you.”
“You do owe me and I’m going to collect.” Leave it to Sammy. They could rag each other on every little thing, but their bond was as close as brother and sister. She would protect his right to privacy, even when she teased him for it in private.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“How’s school going?”
“The semester can’t end soon enough for me. Finals will be over soon and then I’ll be working at SHIELD for the summer on assignment here. What about you? Dad would take you on as an intern for the summer too.”
“That’d go over so well with my mom. You know she doesn't like SHIELD.”
“Which explains why she works for the agency. Oh, and your birthday gift is late, but it is on its way. You’ll get it in a day or two.”
“What is it? Tell me or I'll call you by that name you hate!”
“Oooh, your threats make me quiver all over,” Sammy mocked. “You’ll see. Call me when you get it and you can help me escape my homework for an evening.”
"I will when I get a chance. Mom's in town for her usual 7-10 days. Anya had great timing and got herself thrown out of another school, so I'm sure Mom will be spending most of her time with the brat and making her sorry. We had dinner last night for my birthday, just the four of us. It was nice." His voice took on an audible smirk. "Dad didn't get home until this morning."
There was little Sammy could say to that, and nothing Misha would want to hear. As nice as Anya could be when she chose, Sammy resented every second the girl's antics kept Misha from getting a fair share of time from their mother when Natasha was in town. Misha wouldn't hear anything negative said about his mother or sister. Now was a prime example. It was Misha's birthday, his mother was here, and Anya was getting the attention. As far as Sammy could see, it had always been that way.
But it wasn't her problem. "Stop suggesting old people have sex! Give me a call when you can, hosebeast. If finals are over and I haven't heard from you, there will be noogies to pay."
"Oooh, your threats make me quiver all over," he mocked right back. "Will do, Samantha."
"Don't call me Samantha!"
Misha laughed aloud when the phone went dead.