noteful | Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

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Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

It's a pretty low-key party, all things considered, and not significantly different than the one Parker or Meg would have thrown in a dorm room for a friend at home, not-exactly-traditional menu not withstanding.

There's music, low enough to talk over (and maybe with a little more folk in the mix than one expects to find a party). Balloons and streamers in purple and blue and red. A place to leave presents. People to meet or catch up with.

And, most importantly, a chance to wish X-23 (or Laura) a very happy birthday.

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"What, you mean the country we keep in the attic?" Cal scoffs. It's not terribly convincing, as scoffs go, since he's still grinning.

"I've met, I think - two other people from the nineties. Yeah, a little outnumbered."

"Uh-huh. So how many from the early two thousands?"

"I'm not sure I can count that high," Cal says. "Definitely the majority. The vast majority."

Even more than the Brits.

"Guess you could consider yourself one of the elite, or something," Sam offers.

Helpfully.

Cal laughs. He can't help it.

"God, I've had enough of that, thanks," he declares.

"Oh yeah?"

He's grinning; the other man's amusement is infectious.

"Sounds like I hit a nerve."

"Kinda, yeah," Cal says. "My family's a big deal back home - um, I've talked a little with some other people, and it sounds kinda like what John Kennedy's family became on the worlds where his wife didn't catch him with Marilyn Monroe."

It is, in fact, exactly like that.

"Oh. Yeah, I'd say that's pretty elite."

A beat.

"Congratulations?"

"It - has its ups and downs," Cal defers, hesitating over the verb tense. But it's been a rough week and this is a party, so he chooses the one that will let him keep things light. Not the past tense.

"I'd guess. There's this one guy who comes here sometimes, Josh Lyman?"

He gives Cal a quizzical look to see if the name sounds familiar.

"White House Chief of Staff? Nice guy, but he gets kind of stressed."

Cal shakes his head.

"I haven't met him. We - haven't made it to the White House. My dad got close, but he died not long before the election."

Cal sounds fairly matter-of-fact about this. It's been almost twenty years since Reed Chandler died. Cal finished grieving a long time ago.

Cal looks as though he's okay with it, but a twinge runs through Sam all the same.

(It's been less than twenty years since John Winchester died. A lot less.)

"I'm sorry, man."

"Thanks," Cal says, "but it was a while ago. Went into politics myself after that. Sort of taking his place. So what do you do?"

"Private investigator. Me and my brother, both."

Saving people. Hunting things.

"It's a family business."

Cal smiles.

"Your family business sounds a hell of a lot better than mine."

He said more or less the same thing to Captain Kirk. Sam's in good company.

Sam grins back at him.

"Guess it all comes down to the kind of stuff a guy's interested in, right?"

"Guess so," Cal says. "I wasn't really that interested in politics." He considers. "Well. Not politics the way most politicians do it."

The way he'd done it, for far too long.

"Yeah?"

The way Sam says it, it's a clear invitation for him to continue.

"You know," Cal says with a shrug. "All bribes and favors, maybe running the government a little when you get around to it. I wanted to . . . I don't know what I wanted at first. I was all caught up in the family name."

He shakes his head and smiles, just a touch too bright.

"Stick with private investigating, Sam. Politics sucks."

"Duly noted."

He's sharp enough to catch the edge to that smile. Casually, Sam shifts his stance, indicating the room as a whole.

"Want to go grab another drink?" he offers. "Lot of people still, but there's enough room that we should be able to duck the streamers without running into anyone."

Cal chuckles.

"Yeah, looks like we should be able to coordinate it all right. I've been meaning to check out the root beer float situation. Don't think I've had one of those since I was a kid."

"It's got ice cream in it," Sam jokes. "It's probably gonna be good."

"I'm convinced," Cal says with a laugh. "Let's go investigate."

And off he goes. With a little judicious ducking, the streamers remain intact.

Sam follows in Cal's wake, taking advantage of the fact that the other man's navigating the streamers first to pick his own route.

"Hell of an obstacle course they've got set up here."

"Short people have no consideration," Cal says, kinda sorta straight faced.

Okay, not really.

He does make it to the root beer float station without any unfortunate incidents, though.

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Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

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