deathpixie | FIC: The Life and Times of Madelyn Bartlet (X-Project-verse)

Four answers in one:

For [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com], who asked for [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com], tomorrow.

"Who's Daddy's big boy? You are! That's right, you are! Here comes the airplane again!"

"Da! Plane!"

Madelyn chuckled a little at the voices drifting from the kitchen as she made her way down the tiny hallway, pausing to pick up the wooden train that threatened to turn her ankle out from under her. Billy was in his high-chair, banging his hands enthusiastically on the tray, watching his blue furry father swoop - with appropriate noises - the oatmeal-laden spoon towards his mouth. Hank was balanced easily on one foot, the bowl balanced on his other foot so as to leave both hands free for feeding and clean up duty - Billy had a tendency to turn his food into face paint.

"Morning, you two," she said, setting the train down on the kitchen table and giving Hank a kiss on the cheek. "And how's Billy-boy today?"

"Da! Mad! Whee!" Billy crowed, regardless of the oatmeal now dribbling down his chin. Hank caught the mess on the damn washcloth in his non-feeding hand.

"He's full of beans this morning," he said, beaming at her. "And how about you? Refreshed and revitalised and ready to commence the day, my dearest?" He nodded at the coffee maker. "It's just done brewing, by the way. Some of the Jamaican blend Alison sent over."

"As always, you're my blue furry guardian angel." Madelyn headed for the blessed machine, smoothing her hand over Billy's silky jet-black hair as she passed him and neatly avoiding oatmeal-encrusted hands. "I've got a meeting first thing with the Board."

"Ah, hence the suit. And here I was thinking you were wearing it for me, knowing the effect seeing you in such attire has on my poor male senses." Billy giggled and clapped, and Hank grinned. "Apparently Billy shares his father's taste."

"He could do a lot worse. After all, his father did so very well in his choice of girlfriend," Madelyn teased, sipping at her coffee and making a happy noise. "That's the stuff."

"And his father never stops thanking his lucky stars his choice returned the favour."

"His father is an incurable romantic who makes his choice very happ-- oh, crap, is that the time? I've got to run." Madelyn gulped at her coffee, trying not to waste any. "Did you book a sitter for tonight, hon?"

Hank, busily spooning oatmeal into his son, looked puzzled. "Sitter?"

"For tonight. Dinner, remember? We were going out?" Madelyn sighed. "Hank."

The big man looked sheepish. "I must have gotten caught up in that paper on biochemical abnormalities in energy projectors and completely forgot. I'll arrange something today."

"You'll never find someone in time." Glancing at her watch again, Madelyn swore softly under her breath. "We'll do it another time. I really have to run or I'll be late - you know what traffic's like this time of morning." Pressing a kiss to the top of Billy's head, she gave Hank a brief squeeze around the shoulders. "Don't fret about it, hon. We'll sort something out tonight. Have a good day!"

"Well, okay, but..." Hank began, but she was already halfway down the hall in a rattle of heels.

For [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com], who asked for Kurt and Maddie at her wedding:

"Excuse me, but may I have this dance?"

The soft German-accented voice came none-to-soon, cornered as she was by her mother and Edna McCoy. The two older women had practically planned the next twenty years, down to schools for the children and a nice little farm in Iowa - the whole thing was making Madelyn feel just a little claustrophobic. And Hank was off, talking advanced physics with some of his university colleagues. She smiled gratefully up at Kurt, and excused herself.

"You're a Godsend, Kurt," she said, catching up the trailing skirt of her dress as he led her over to the dance floor. "Mom and Edna are just as terrifying together as I imagined."

"You were looking rather wild-eyed, so I thought I'd rescue you. Asking you to dance was much more subtle than simply teleporting you away from them." His yellow eyes danced with amusement as he took her hand. "You look beautiful, Maddie. But then again, you always did."

She blushed, covering her reaction by laying her free hand on his shoulder and following his lead into a waltz. "I'm grateful for the save. And the compliment." Rallying, she poked his shoulder lightly. "You're looking rather dashing yourself, Mr. Sefton."

"It seemed appropriate, for the occasion." He expertly steered her past her niece and nephew, flowergirl and pageboy spinning themselves around on the dance floor until they were giddy. "This reminds me of Nathan's wedding," he ventured, a little hesitantly.

She nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "Me too. The last time we danced together, actually." Her tone was a little wistful. "I miss it sometimes."

"So do I." Now it was his turn to squeeze her hand, reassuringly. "But it does me good to see you so happy, Maddie. It really does."

"I am. I really am." She smiled again, the expression banishing the brief moment. "Now, what about you, Kurt? Anyone on the scene? Or should I tell Carlie you're footloose and fancy free? She still has that crush on you, you know."

For [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com], who asked for Sofia and Madelyn, meeting in ten years.

"...extensive bruising to both legs, consistent with being struck with a heavy object. Abrasions consistent with rope burns on both ankles..." There was a harsh buzzing sound and the examiner looked up, frowning slightly behind the Plexiglass shield of her face mask. "Pause," she said, and the voice recognition program ceased the recording.

"Dr. Bartlet?" The voice through the intercom was a woman's, crisp and professional. "My name's Sofia Mantega-Barret. I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time?"

"From Profiles?" Madelyn's eyebrows rose, and she walked over the door, peeling off her surgical gloves as she did. Removing the mask, she set it aside before opening the door. "What can I do for you, Ms. Mantega-Barret?"

"Please, call me Sofia. The other is such a mouthful." The woman on the other side of the door was brunette, tall and attractive, but with a reserved element to her, as if she was holding herself in check. "I was wanting your expert opinion, actually. Do you have time for a coffee?"

"There's always time for coffee," Madelyn replied, with a grin, even as her curiosity spiked. She knew of Sofia Mantega-Barret - her chequered history at the Bureau was the only one that outstripped Madelyn's own. "Just give me a minute."

And for [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com], who asked for Maddie, fifteen years on:

"So, it's 'Will' these days?"

"Billy's a kid's name. I'm not a kid any more."

That he wasn't, Madelyn thought with a mental sigh, looking at the tall young man sitting across the small cafe table from her. William Norton McCoy was a good-looking young man, tall and self-assured, with a challenging gleam in his dark eyes.

"Will, then. What brings you down to Quantico?"

"Same old Mad," he said, the slightest hint of a smirk easing the tense lines of his face. "Always straight to the point."

"Less of the 'old', kiddo," she replied, smiling. "You'll give me a complex."

He snorted at that, and relaxed into his chair, long legs stretched out before him. "I need you to find someone for me," he said, all practiced nonchalance. Madelyn wasn't fooled: Bill- no, Will wouldn't come all the way out here just to ask her to look up an old school chum.

"What kind of someone?"

"My father." He caught the flash of concern across her face, and hastily amended. "My birth father. Dad's fine, still back on Muir up to his ears in test-tubes."

"You had me worried for a minute there - Hank likes to try and relive his glory days with the X-Men and I thought he'd gone and done something silly." Like gotten tangled up with another supervillainess like Infectia. "Did you talk to Dani?"

"Yeah. She doesn't know where he is, doesn't want to know." Will sounded frustrated, as he usually did after conversations with his birth mother. "Tried to tell me to forget it, that he's just another no-good bum. And you know Dad - he'd move heaven and earth for me, but he's terrified of losing me. Like..." He stopped himself before completing the sentence, but Madelyn knew what he meant.

Like he lost you.

She hid the wince, and reached for her glass of water to collect herself. "You've got every right to know who your birth father is," she began. "And it's up to you to decide whether to get in touch with him or not. You're a smart boy, B... Will. Smart enough to know your own mind. I'll see what I can do."

His smile was brilliantly white in the tan of his face. "Thanks, Mad. I owe you one."

She shook her head. "No, you don't. I owe you."