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Warning: This story may deal with adult issues, so be forewarned.

Please disregard the previous version of this story...just aesthetic changes, but...please read and archive this version. Sorry for the inconvience!

Standard disclaimers apply...mature themes may be explored, and of course, feedback is adored!

Just Lucky, I Guess


DuAnn Cowart


She had managed to get excellent seats, so although the theater was packed they had a clear view of the stage. He really wished that she hadn't gone to all the effort. He could sense the people behind him craning to get a better view, and he sighed, desperately wishing he could oblige them by leaving. He looked hopefully at the woman beside him, thinking she would be as disgusted as he, but she clearly was enraptured with the performance. He sighed again and settled deeper into his seat, fidgeting. To top it all off, the seats obviously weren't designed for a man of his size. 'I bet Dom's having a good time,' he thought enviously, picturing himself blissfully absorbing the New York Philharmonic's Evening of Vivaldi instead of this mockery. 'I can't wait to tell her about this...' He looked at the woman beside him and ammended that thought 'Maybe I won't tell her all about it...'

Ororo turned to him "Is this not a marvelous performance, Nathan?" She smiled at him, and he suddenly remembered why he had consented to come tonight. She truly was lovely, and he did enjoy her company. She turned her attention back to the stage, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. He didn't want her to know how terribly bored he was. He stared blankly at the stage, and waited for the night to end.

A short eternity later, thunderous noise filled the air. He jumped slightly, startled. He looked up, and the entire audience was standing, applauding. Ororo frowned at him slightly, and he guiltily stood up and joined with half-hearted applause. 'Some battle reflexes you have, Nate,' he thought wryly 'At least this means we're going home'.

Two and a half hours later, after attending a reception honoring the artist that Ororo had so kindly gotten them tickets to, he actually got home. He said goodnight as quickly as he could without seeming rude, and went straight to his room.He almost stopped by Domino's room to ask about her evening, but he didn't want her to see him dressed up and coming in this late. Besides, her light was off and his head was pounding, and all he could think of was the blessed escape of sleep. When he got to his room, he quickly stripped his suit off and grabbed a comfortable pair of workout shorts as he slid into the quiet covers.

An hour later he still lay there. Sighing, he climbed out of the covers , and levitating upside down above the bed he began to meditate. Slowly, the tension receded and he felt himself begin to relax. After a quick scan of the grounds to verify the seeming quiet of the night, he lowered his psionic shields and allowed his mind to rest as free as it could without releasing the technological disease that ran through his body. He breathed out slowly, at peace for the first time that evening.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt an incredibly erotic violet force pulse through his mind and body. He plummeted to the bed, all concentration lost. He grasped the sheets, trying to regin control of his body. He moaned, writhing to the rythym of the silent sensation. It peaked at a dangerous indigo, then sharply subsided.

Nathan gasped with release, then lay still. After putting himself back together, both literally and figuratively, he psionically examined himself to find traces of the surge. The intense violet hadn't completely left him, only reverted back to the familiar lavender tendril now humming contentedly in a corner of his mind. His eyes opened wide. The small purple glow emanated from the psi-link he shared with his partner, his best friend, his... "Domino," he whispered weakly, then lay back into the covers, exhausted.