Warning: This is light and fluffy, and really has no plot or meaning. At all.

Disclaimer: Nathan, Rachel, Domino, Sam, Wisdom, and Moira don't belong to me. I'm merely borrowing them. No money is being made from this piece of fiction.

Dedication: This is very much Foe and Timey's fault. It's for myJen and Allie. *smooches* Hope your days are better.

Mochachino Variations
by Ana Lyssie Cotton

'Coffee Shoppe' read the sign. It was hung over a small glass-fronted shop window, which contained... a coffee shop. It sat in the middle of the block, like a quietly subversive second-cousin who wants to inherit but can't, because you're still alive.

Two people stood in front of it, a tall bulky man with silver hair, and a slim red-haired girl.

"I hate it when people try to be quaint by using e's." The girl muttered, glaring up at the offending sign.

The man grunted, "Doesn't matter."

She glanced at him, then at the front door, "Are you gonna fit through?"


"Without breaking it?"


"That's good."

He snorted, and demonstrated his fittingness by walking up the steps and into the shop. A bell tinkled and chimed somewhere inside, and the counter girl looked up at them expectantly.

Rachel followed him, muttering about addicts and their ability to find coffee anywhere, even in tiny little towns in Wisconsin.

"Can I help you?"

"Double Expresso, black." Nathan glanced at his sister, "You?"

"There's so many choices. Why don't you get something other than what you always get?"

"Because I like it."

She hrmphed. "Not a reason."

"Do you need some time, miss?"

"No. I'd like a cinnamon mocha, with extra whipped cream. And, HE would like one, too."

"I do not!"

"He does." She said firmly. "We'll take the expresso, too."

The order was rung up. Money exchanged hands, and coffee was brewed while mochas were concocted. Rachel grabbed the mochas when they were up while Nathan claimed his expresso. They moved to the window and sat at the table right in the middle.

"Now, you're going to try this if I have to sit on you and pour it down your gullet."

He looked amused. "You shouldn't have to go that far."

"Good." She set the styrofoam cup in front of him, then began sucking the whipped cream from the top of hers while he drank his expresso.


Domino stepped into the shade of the small green and white-striped awning, and peered into the window of the small coffee shop. A tall slim young man was inside chatting with the pretty brunette cashier. She chuckled to herself before pushing open the door.

A bell tinkled near the back, and both young adults turned to look at her. Sam Guthrie smiled, "Ms. Domino."

"Hello, Sam. Have you ordered yet?"

A slight blush stained his cheeks, but he recovered, smiling at the cashier. "Not yet. I'd like a mocha with cinnamon, please."

The brunette smiled at him, then looked at Domino, "And you?"

"Large Coffee. Black."

After being rung up and served, they moved over to one of the tables and sat down, each sipping their drinks quietly.

Sam broke the silence first, studying her. "So, why are you here, ma'am."

"Because. And stop calling me ma'am, Sam. I'm not *quite* old enough to be your mother."

He chuckled, "It's because Mr. Cable is off with his sister, isn't it."


"Don't worry. He still remembers you. Even if you keep throwing things at him and shooting holes in his pride."

"Nate has way too much natural pride. I think it's a Summers failing."

Sam chuckled again, "And you?"

"Oh, I have my pride, too." She sipped at her coffee to cover answering further.

He took the hint, and changed the subject. "How are you finding Atlanta?"

"Same as it ever was. Hot and muggy. With way too many Peachtree streets."

"That's a good asset for X-Force, though. Most of our enemies keep goin' to the wrong one."

Domino grinned, "Always a plus." She glanced over at the counter, "So, who's the brunette?"

He blushed. "Andrea."

"Nice kid."

"She is."

"How's the rest of X-Force?"


"And she's a nice retreat from them."

He blushed harder, then hrmphed. "None of your business."

"You sound like Nate."



"*huff* *huff* Y're killin' *huff* me!"

"Ach. Don't be daft, boy." She glanced at him as she reached the top of the small hill. "This walking, it's good for ye."

"No it ain't." He glared at her. "MacTaggart, I knew you were tryin' ta kill me before. Now it's certain."

"Bosh. That's the tobacco talking."

"My body *likes* the tobacco."

She snorted, "Come along, lad. If you're that horrid and perishin', I suppose we can make a short break."

"Thank GOD." He glanced around wildly, then brightened, "Even this god-forsaken city has the drink of the gods."

Moira chuckled, "This is Baltimore, Wisdom, not Kentucky."

"Coffee." He said firmly, grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the Starbucks.

"I dinnae think it'll be all that great."

"Anything is better than walking up bloody hills."

"Even my coffee?"

"Yes, you old bag, even your coffee."

A huff escaped her as the bell tinkled signalling their entrance into the shop. "I'll have you know I'm NOT old enough t'be y're mother, Wisdom."

"Could've fooled me."

She hit him.


"Serves ye right."

"Buy me coffee."


"Evil woman."

She smirked at him.


See? No point. At all. Move along.