Neighborly Intentions

You were privy to boredom. There was no way around it, you were bored, like, 65-80% of the time. This number had increased when Cable and Neena came into your life. It was as though nothing interested you the same way once you knew those two lived just down the road (in a facility with so many amenities, no less). You weren’t entirely sure why this sudden disinterest in other activities happened, but you were content with leaving that bridge alone until it was absolutely necessary to cross it. For now, you enjoyed Neena’s seemingly compatible sense of boredom. You didn’t know much about Cable yet, but he seemed to have a similar amount of spare time on his hands, too. You had a feeling that you might be about to become a group. An unofficial one, yes, but nevertheless a group.

This suspicion was only affirmed the next time you saw Cable. You’d stopped by the mansion to see if Neena was around; usually, if she was supposed to be around to see you, Lady Luck would have her there. You’d grown to accept that if Neena wasn’t around, she wasn’t meant to be, cosmically.

Cable was running laps in the yard. Not a rare occurrence, but having spoken to him at this point, you noticed a few things you hadn’t before. You liked the way he looked when he dressed casually; a white t shirt and sweats were somehow so hot on a man with a body like that. The slowly setting sun shone on the metal of his left arm and reflected off that golden eye and towards you as he noticed you rolling up the driveway yet again. Not a rare occurrence, but having spoken to you at this point, he slowed to a stop as you neared him. He was out of breath, and you could hardly contain yourself watching his lungs heave like that. You wondered what else made him breathe heavy.

“Hey, Cable, how’s it goin’?” You hopped off your bike as he answered gruffly, “It’s going. You here to see Neena?”

You nodded enthusiastically, and he started towards the massive front doors, signaling you to follow him. You did so without question, eyes locked on the back of his head. Your gaze traveled down his body, noticing the small diamond of sweat on his lower back. He was unbelievably fit for his age. His shoulders were broad and muscled, and you could see the metal of his spine. You really wanted to know more about his physique. His ass wasn’t half bad, either, especially in those sweatpants. You wondered if he had a uniform like other X-Men and their villainous counterparts that you’d seen on the news; those outfits always hugged an ass better than any pair of leggings you’d encountered.

Hearing the clearing of a throat, you brought your eyes back up, only to see his on you, and you blushed at the smirk on his handsome face. He’d caught you staring at his ass. Awesome. His head returned forward as the two of you reached the front door, and as you leaned your bike against the wall like usual, you tried to break the embarrassing silence by asking, “Any idea where she might be in this maze?”

You both stepped inside as he answered, “I don’t even know if she’s here.” He paused, and you were wondering if you might be better off just going home and watching YouTube until you passed out when he continued, “But why don’t I help you look for her?”

Surprised, you questioned, “You sure? I’d think you probably have something better to do than wander around with me.”

He shook his head. “No, I could use a distraction, I’ve been bored all damn day.”

You shrugged. “Hmm. An unusual request, coming from you, but I suppose I’ll allow it, just this once.” You took pride in the small smile he had as you spoke. Spinning in a circle, you sighed. “Well, where should we start? I don’t really know this place very well; I get lost every time I try to go anywhere that isn’t the kitchen.”

Cable scoffed. “Yeah, when I first got here, I was the same way.” He pointed down the hallway to your right. “Why don’t we try the library?”

You’d barely nodded when he started in that direction, and you followed closely behind. “When, uh, did you first get here, anyway?”

There was hesitation in his voice as he answered, “About a month ago now.” You waited for him to continue; you were starting to learn that waiting for a moment after he spoke would lead him to admit more about himself. He stayed true to form. “I didn’t plan on staying, but these dumbasses need someone around to look after ‘em.”

As he cracked the door, you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out as you saw what lied behind the solid wood. This library was massive. As in, it had one of those wheelie ladders connected to the shelf because it was huge and full to the brim with all kinds of knowledge. You made a mental note to return, often. Shaking yourself out of your amazement, you followed behind him as he stepped into the room, asking, “By ‘these dumbasses’, I assume you mean Wade?”

You got an almost laugh out of him at that one. “Yeah, Wade is one of the dumbasses. Neena can look after herself, but she’s just about the only one who can.” Taking one last look around, Cable turned around, only glancing at you and avoiding your eyes as he said, “She ain’t in here, let’s try her room upstairs.” He walked past you, and you had no choice but to continue in his tracks. He seemed to be used to taking the lead, and you surely didn’t mind that. He also seemed to be avoiding getting too close to you, and while you did mind that, you assumed there was a good reason behind it. Even if that reason was that he secretly hated you, you appreciated the sentiment behind him not speaking as such.

He led you back down the hall to the stairs, and you climbed them together, always keeping a safe distance from him. You didn’t figure he would lash out at you, especially now that you’d had a beer together and become a bit more familiar with one another, but you couldn’t be too careful, given that you knew next to nothing about him, or his metal parts. With your luck, they were sentient and in the mood to kill today. You couldn’t help yourself from questioning on the subject, “So, can I ask about your arm, or is that a Cable no-no, too?”

He was quiet—contemplative? —before he turned his head, only slightly, so you could see, and nodded curtly, responding lowly, “What the hell, why not?”

His tone made you shiver, and you hoped he hadn’t noticed. You were far too happy that you were allowed to ask him about himself to waste it all on a minor, involuntary reaction to his perfectly growly voice. Reaching the top of the stairs, he hung a left and started down the hall again. You asked bluntly, “Does it come off?”

You had to halt very quickly as Cable stopped walking and turned to look at you with an incredulous look on his face. He repeated your question back to you with disbelief, “Does it come off?”

“Yeah, you know, is it kinda like one of your guns and you take it off to clean it or something?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Jesus…I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer, Y/N.” He kept moving, and you got the feeling that it didn’t come off.

Reaching a door that looked just like all the others, he brought his right hand up to knock firmly on the wood. You both waited, and waited, and when there was no Neena-like response, his gaze met yours. You really had to fight that shiver. “Don’t think she’s in right now, kid.”

You broke eye contact, looking down and shuffling your feet. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so much, you didn’t really want to leave. “Damn.” A pause, for effect. Then you looked at him again. “Well, I’m actually kind of having an okay time on this tour, got anything else you can show me? Or is it all confidential from here?”

The corner of his mouth turned up, just a smidge, and he nodded softly as he said, “There’s a couple things, I guess.” And without another word, he walked right back down the hall to the stairwell. You didn’t move for a moment, shocked that he’d actually said yes, and he called to you from the top of the stairs. “You comin’, darlin’?”

Those words—well, that word—made you spin around and follow him down the stairs faster than if he’d threatened to kill you. He led you down to the ground floor, and then continued down the stairs into the basement. You hadn’t been down there yet, and you were growing more and more intrigued with each step. Despite wanting to see more of this continually mysterious building, you kept your eyes trained on Cable most of the time, simultaneously taking in as much of him and the mansion as you could. You noticed the way his hair bounced just a bit when he went down the stairs.

Reaching the landing in the basement, he led you through one, two, three, four doors before stopping in front of one in the back of a room full of covered furniture. There was a sense of nervousness in your stomach; a dank, dark basement with an old metal man? Recipe for disaster. But somehow, you trusted him. You hardly knew him, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t hurt you. Not on purpose, anyway (looking at you, potentially sentient limbs).

“Where the hell are we?” You were entirely confused as he put his hand on the doorknob, caught your eye, and smirked. That goddamn smirk was going to be the end of you. Winking, he twisted the handle and swung the door open, and you felt your eyes go wide.

It was the wine cellar. Now, that statement sounds like a room with some wine in it. This was a cavern with barrels on barrels and bottles on bottles of wine lining the walls, with an island in the center adorned with glasses of all shapes and sizes; stemless ones, crystal ones, some with jewels on the base and some with gold leaf on the rims. There was no way this room wasn’t worth at least two or three million dollars. You felt nervous to step inside, but he had already waltzed in (as much of a waltz a tall buff man can manage, anyway) and was seemingly waiting for you at the counter in the middle. You took the hint, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you crossed the threshold.

“Um,” you started, taking in your surroundings, “this place is insane.”

He nodded, a knowing and unexpectedly toothy grin on his face as he exclaimed, “Believe me, I know. When I found this place, I went on a bit of a bender;” insert typical Cable pause here, “the next day, I was so hungover that Wade knocked too loud on my door and I broke his wrist for it.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. If you weren’t so in awe, you would’ve scolded him. But he added, “Only because I knew he could take it, of course,” and you reminded yourself that he wasn’t someone who needed to be scolded, he was the one who did the scolding. You nodded. “Riiight…”

He continued trying to cover his tracks—he almost seemed flustered—as he added, “And it was just a one-time thing, anyway, I don’t usually…do that kind of thing.”

You smiled, feeling a wave of sarcasm coming on. “Oh, yeah, you’re the clean and sober man I had a beer with last week, you’d never hurt a fly with your mechanized weapon of a body.” You caught his eye with a playful smirk on your face; you were only kidding, of course.

“Now, I never said I was clean and sober, I just said it was a one-time bender.”

You lightheartedly ignored the comment as you asked, “Did you bring me down here to tell me an embarrassing story about drunken roommate abuse, or did you bring me down here to get me drunk on what is clearly very expensive wine?”

The smile on his face grew bigger. You were totally killing it right now. “I didn’t bring you down here for anything, darlin’, you’re the one who’s supposed to be distracting me, remember?”

You nodded once in agreement, “Alright, then, let me do my damn job. Pick a glass for me, and I’ll pick one for you.”

His smile faltered in confusion as he asked, “What?”

You pointed towards the side of the island facing him. “Go on, we’re picking glasses for each other, pick me something you think I’ll like, and I’ll pick something I think you’ll like. It can be like a game.”

He picked up on the fact that you probably weren’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer, so he bent and started glancing over the glasses on the rack on his side of the island. You were growing very preoccupied with picking the perfect one for him, so you almost didn’t notice when he started to scan one of the glasses with his eye tech. You watched out of the corner of your own eye as his left glowed a vibrant orange and he read something only he was able to see. Then he reached out and grabbed the glass he’d been scanning, and his eye faded back to its original color. As he straightened up, you saw the perfect one for him and slid it from its spot into your grasp. You kept it out of sight as you stood tall again and noticed the proud look on his face.

“What’s that face, Cable? Think you found something good? ‘Cause I’ll bet it’s not better than mine.”

He narrowed his eyes mischievously. “You’re a cocky little shit, aren’t you?”

You nodded knowingly.

He shook his head, laughing a little under his breath, and brought his hand up from beneath the counter. In its metal grasp was a medium sized wine glass with intricate flowered detailing trailing from the base all the way to the rim, which was laced with gold leaf. It was tall and slender, almost more of a champagne flute than a wine glass, but you figured you’d let that slide. You swallowed, suddenly nervous to hear his explanation. “Why that one?”

He set it down gently on the counter and proudly said, “They’re cross vine flowers. Like the ones on your house.”

Your heart stopped beating, and your eyes flew from the glass to him and back to the glass again. For starters, you were very flattered and had definitely lost the game. Not only did he know which house was yours in the neighborhood, he knew what kind of vines were climbing up the walls? “Wow, Cable, that’s…perfect. You’re very observant.” You looked down at the glass in your hand and grimaced. “Mine is definitely not better than yours. Mine is just this,” you mumbled as you brought your own hand up from behind the counter and showed him the glass you’d chosen for him. It was a simple silver chalice, with a heavy shine and miniscule orange stones set in the base. “I just thought it looked kinda like your arm and the little stones looked like your eye, I don’t even know what kinda rocks they are or anything.”

He reached over the counter to take it from your grasp, and you were caught off guard and froze for a moment. The metal of his fingers brushed over yours, much like the last time you’d seen him when he had opened your bottle. You were again surprised to feel warmth instead of cold, and so wished he would stay there, touching you. But he took the glass from your hand, and you could see him scanning it, much like he had with the glass he had chosen for you. A soft, almost vulnerable smile came over him, accompanied by the loss of some of the tension in his posture. “It’s orange tiger’s eye.” More like a silver fox’s eye, am I right, ladies? His gaze shifted up from the glass to you, and you saw the sincerity in his face as he murmured, “I think you win.”

You shook your head. “No, either you win, or it’s a tie, because mine cannot be better than yours.”

He considered it, and then bobbed his head in agreement. “Fine. A tie, then.”

The two of you sat in a moment of approving silence before he questioned, “Red or white?”

You leaned over the counter, settling your chin onto your fist and answering matter-of-factly, “Red.”

He spoke not a word as he went around the room, scrutinizing a few barrels and several bottles before finding one he found fit for the occasion. Bringing it over to the island, he pulled a wine bottle opener from somewhere on his side and proceeded to pull the cork out with a satisfying pop. Pouring the wine into the glass, you appreciated his meticulousness as he filled it exactly half full and handed it to you. You took it gratefully and couldn’t help noticing the way his fingers ghosted over yours as he pulled away.

Filling his own glass, Cable went to take a sip, but you quickly interrupted him. “Wait! We have to cheers!”

He rolled his eyes and moved the cup away from his lips and toward the center of the island, raised in his left hand. You were growing to love the subtle noises the arm made when it moved, like a clock ticking and whirring with life. He waited for you to speak your cheers into existence, and as you raised your own glass, with the delicate flowers woven across the surface, you declared, “To…neighbors.”

He shook his head in amusement, the corners of his lips turned up in a smile as he added, “And their innocent intentions?”

You nodded, “Exactly,” and the look in his eyes as he brought his glass forward to clink it lightly against yours made you weak at the knees. He was trying to figure you out, analyzing you, although not with any of his mutant abilities. He was just…observing you, with this look of growing curiosity and what some people would call affection etched on his face. But you weren’t one to jump to conclusions. You ducked your head, breaking eye contact, and the two of you finally took your drinks. He’d picked a very expensive wine, you realized, as it hit your tongue and you swallowed it smoothly. Not a bad pick.

You let the moment sit, savoring the taste of the wine on your tongue, before breaking the silence with, “Anything else you want to show me? A pot farm in the subbasement? Maybe a strip club in the attic?”

He blinked softly, the thoughts in his head a mystery yet very evident as he moved his gaze from the contents of his glass to your face. “No, let’s stay here. You’ve asked me questions, now it’s my turn.”

You felt your stomach drop, and you fought off the feeling with a joke. “You brought me down here to get me drunk and interrogate me? Rude.” You took a large gulp of wine to punctuate your sentence, and had hardly even swallowed it before adding, “Besides, you’ve only answered one of my questions. If you want to know something about me, it’s going to have to be quid pro quo, Clarisse.”

“Fine. I get to go first, though.”

You waved your glass in an ‘I don’t care’ motion. “Alrighty, then. Shoot.”

He took a pensive drink before asking, “You’re pretty young—” you couldn’t help the blush that started to creep up your neck at the understanding that this really might be an interrogation, “—so why do you live alone, so far away from everything?”

You were sticking to your joke guns. “I live close to this place, don’t I? There’s a Neena, a Cable, and a tennis court, what more could I need?”

He shook his head, staring down into his cup. “That’s not gonna cut it, Y/N.” His eyes fell on yours as he asked, “Why are you alone out here?”

A sigh fell from your lips. He was a persistent old fucker. You refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing way too hard on the way the barrels were stacked on the wall behind him as you answered, “I needed some time to myself. Away from all that. Couldn’t really focus on myself with all the shit that goes on there.” You cut yourself off with a miniscule sip of your wine. You’d only been down here in the cellar for maybe ten, fifteen minutes, but you had a feeling you were going to get a little tipsy, considering the topic of conversation had already turned so serious. You’d wanted to get to know Cable better, but god, at what cost?

He seemed content with your answer. You took his silence as your cue to ask your question. “For real, though, what’s the deal with your arm? Aside from it not being able to come off, of course.”

A tension set into him as you asked, and you felt that he was uncomfortable with whatever it was that made his arm the way it was. He answered simply, “It’s a virus. Turns my body into a machine if I don’t keep it under control.”

Your heart ached. It wasn’t his choice to be like this. He’d grown to live with and utilize it, but at its core it was illness, not self-modification. You wished you could help him, but knew he wasn’t the type to ask for help unless he truly needed it. Until he did, you felt satisfied knowing you’d gained at least a small amount of his trust. He must have seen the empathetic distress on your face and reassured you, “It doesn’t hurt or anything. Just takes up a lot of energy.” Another one of his information withholding pauses. “Comes with plenty of perks, I suppose.”

You couldn’t help yourself from taking another drink and throwing in an arm pun, for shits and giggles. “It’s got a few tricks up its sleeve, eh?”

He murmured, “Jesus…”

You laughed to yourself before drinking again (your cup was almost empty already; this stuff was tasty). But your interest was piqued. “What kind of perks?”

“Well…” Cable contemplated. Then a confident smirk came over his face and he cockily asked, “Do you want me to show you?”