The X-Project

Bobby and Terry head to the airport for Bobby's flight to Ireland. Of course, this is the absolute best time to start a huge fight, right as they are about to put an ocean between them for the next 6+ weeks.


The rearview mirror was blocked by boxes, but they'd managed to get everything into the car in the end--or at least, everything crossing the Atlantic along with Bobby. He glanced over at Terry as he drove, giving her a small smile. "I still can't believe this is really happening."

"Hmm?" Terry looked up from her last minute list checking then smiled back, "Oh, right. It doesn't seem real yet. I keep thinking that you're just going away for a trip and you'll be back soon like always." She set down the notepad she was holding and reached out to cover his hand with hers. "You'll call when you get there."

"Of course. Uh...even with the time difference? I mean, I don't want to wake you up or anything." He took her hand in his, twining their fingers together, eyes back on the road again.

"Even with. I want to know you're home safe." It sounded strange to her ears. Home always had meant the Keep for her. But now it meant for him as well. She squeezed his hand and consulted her list again. "Sean's going to meet you at the airport but he'll be staying in Dublin rather that coming to the Keep," she said unnecessarily--they'd discussed this more than once.

"I know," Bobby said with mild irritation. Her stupid lists were starting to drive him crazy--especially her insistence on reviewing them and re-reviewing them...and then re-re-reviewing them. "Stop worrying, Terry. I remember everything."

She pouted at him and tugged her hand away to mark something on the paper. "I'm just trying to be sure that everything's taken care of. I don't want you to get there and be lost because I didn't cover something." Especially not when she couldn't go with him and wouldn't be able to join him until school ended. There was just no time, not with finals starting.

"You wanna hold my hand while I cross the street, too?" Bobby snapped. Geez, she was treating him like a kid. He'd saved lives, for God's sake, fought in battles, survived his own personal hell...he was pretty sure he could handle getting from the airport to the keep without a babysitter.

His jaw tightened and he put both hands on the wheel, staring doggedly forward.

"Well pardon me for being concerned. I didn't realise that was such a terrible thing for a wife to do when she's not going to be around." Terry huffed and stared out the window, "Mother of God."

Bobby shot her a glare before moving his eyes back to the road. "There is a difference between being concerned and being overbearing, Theresa." He rolled his eyes, hands tightening even further on the steering wheel. Wasn't this fun?

"It's not being overbearing! I'm telling you what's going on! If you don't want my help then you should have said so before now, not right before you get on a bloody plane and I won't see you for a month." Her cheeks flushed with irritation, voice rising with her temper. "I did this because Lord knows that you wouldn't have done it yourself. Sure and we'd still be at the school talking if not for me."

"Oh, so now I'm lazy? Or just irresponsible?" Bobby yelled, hardly believing what he was hearing. "You know, the only reason it took this long is because I was trying to be responsible and fulfill my obligations, so don't act like I've just been lounging around on my ass, happy to just float along until you tell me what to do!"

"I didn't say that!" Terry wrenched around in her seat, facing him across the gap in the seats. "You know that's not what I mean, don't you try to twist my words around! The fact is that I did most of the work for this move and you know it!"

"You did, did you? I guess all those boxes I packed, all the phone calls I made, they were just for something else!" He looked away from the road for longer than was probably safe, scowling at Terry. "Jeez, Terry, you act like you're the only one who wants this! Like I'm just gonna drop the ball completely if you don't mother me every step of the way!" He looked back and jerked the wheel, correcting the drift he'd started onto the shoulder, and added under his breath, "You know what 'mothering' is one letter away from, don't you?"

Of course, he was in the car with a mutant with hypersensitive hearing, only thoughts were far enough under his breath to not be overheard, "Aye, divorce," she snapped back peevishly, folding her arms across her chest. "Yeh don't make decisions about anything else when I ask so how was I to know that yeh'd be helpful at all with this?"

"...This is about the stupid wedding, isn't it?" Bobby muttered, hunching his shoulders as he leaned over the steering wheel. God, he was so sick of her shoving twenty million shades of the same color at him and asking which he liked better. "Just because I don't care about flowers or cake toppers or whatever doesn't mean I don't make decisions!"

"Yes, it's about the wedding. Our wedding. Not just the stupid little ceremony that yeh have to give Terry so that she'll keep sleeping with yeh. I'm not asking yeh to make every decision with me but you won't even listen to the CDs I gave yeh! I can't do this all by meself and now yeh're going to be away for the next month and yeh're in the best position to be making the arrangement for the ceremony but no, I've got to bloody do it from New York!" He didn't even care. It didn't matter what she said to him, he was never going to care about their wedding. "I should just call it off," she muttered to herself, staring sullenly as a plane skimmed down overhead.

"Maybe you should," Bobby snapped, his stomach twisting at her words. Did she really think that? Any of it? Or was it just anger?

He didn't say anything else as he maneuvered into the lane leading to the airport, face stoic and unreadable.

"Maybe I will. It's better than having all our friends show up to something that the groom doesn't even want to be at." She dragged her legs up onto the seat, clutching them against her chest, refusing to even look at him.

This was so old. Going over it again and again seemed pointless. She had her ideas set in her mind, and nothing Bobby said would make her stop equating 'not interested in a frillion boring details' to mean 'doesn't want it to happen'. "Then do it," he said quietly. Great. Now he was going over to Ireland with his marriage possibly breaking up before the wedding even took place, to start a life that might have just reached the beginning of the end. "Do whatever you want. You always do, anyway."

Terry made a discontent noise and didn't answer. What was she going to say to that? He wasn't listening anyway. She remained silent until he pulled into a parking space then flung herself out of the car into the chilly, rainy day. Looking up, she let the rain hit her face and cool her skin, taking deep gasping breaths.

Bobby got out more slowly, barely sparing her a glance as he got one of the pay trolleys for the luggage. He came back to the car and started lugging boxes out of the back seat without a word, his expression remaining closed.

Terry looked over and frowned, reaching back into the car for an umbrella. "Everything's getting wet," she scolded, opening the umbrella and shoving it at him, more hurt than angry now. It gave her voice a watery edge. "Go inside and get in line. We're going to have to check everything and we're already running late. I'll unload this."

And now she was bossing him around again, but he was too numb at this point to fight. "Sure," he muttered, dropping the box in his arms onto the cart. He leaned back in to get his carry-on, slinging his laptop case strap across his chest and walked toward the terminal without looking back.

It took a little bit of doing but she managed to get everything balanced on the cart. When she crushed her fingers setting down a heavy box, it was just the excuse she needed to let a stream of curses and tears pour forth. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her hair damp by the time she wheeled into the terminal, navigating the back and forth of the queue to park the cart next to Bobby. "Did you check to see if the flight was on time?"

"No, you didn't tell me to," Bobby simpered mockingly, then rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yes. It's on time. The line to get through security looked short, though. You'll be rid of me soon enough."

Stung she turned deliberately away from him to locate the departures board herself, rechecking the flight number and status, shivering slightly.

Typical. Even when he gave her a direct answer, she still didn't trust him. Was it any wonder he didn't put much effort into taking initiative with the wedding? She'd just second-guess any decision he made anyway.

This was so not how he wanted to say his goodbye to her, but as he took a deep breath to try some kind of conciliatory gesture, the woman behind the counter raised her voice impatiently. "Next? Sir? Would you step forward to the counter?"

Terry scrubbed at the new tears in her eyes and stubbornly refused to look at Bobby as she pushed the cart to the counter. She listened to the woman go through the usual question and answer with Bobby, winced ever so slightly when he --to her ears--defiantly claimed that he was traveling alone. Tucking her hands in her jacket pocket, she wandered a bit away to wait for him, watching everyone else in the airport instead.

Bobby finished the whole process, declared that his bags hadn't left his sight, hadn't been handled by strangers, blahblah. Boarding pass in hand, he turned and made his way to Terry's side.

He swallowed and looked at her, hands shoved in his pockets. "Well. Guess this is it."

"Yeah." She shifted in place, shrugged uncomfortably, looked over her shoulder at the security checkpoint. Terry bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. "You'll call me when you get there, right?" This was not how she'd wanted this to go.

Bobby nodded, taking a deep breath before giving her a stiff, awkward hug. "Yeah, I'll call."

Pulling her hands from her pockets, Terry clung back to him. She was still mad at him. Still hurt. But she was also going to miss him. "Fly safe," she admonished him and kissed his cheek, just a short peck on chilled skin. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

"Yeah, okay." His voice was hoarse, and he couldn't quite keep his hand from stroking her hair once before he turned away, squaring his shoulders as he joined the line of travellers shuffling toward the security gateways. He looked back just once, giving her an unsteady smile.

She gave a half-wave then huffed, "Bobby! You have the car keys!"

Bobby rolled his eyes at his own stupidity and jogged back to her side, digging the keys out and pressing them into her hand. Then, because it was his last chance to do it for a while, he abruptly pulled her close, kissing her firmly on the mouth. He was still upset over their fight, but it didn't mean he loved her any less, or was going to miss her any less. "Love you," he whispered as he pulled back.

"Is tú mo ghrá," Terry responded, touching his cheek. She gave him a weak smile and another hard hug, "Don't try to speak Irish to anyone back home. Your accent's awful. I'll talk to you in a few hours."

Bobby laughed, but it was jagged and harsh, completely devoid of humor. "I'll keep it in mind." Okay, it'd been easier to walk away before. "See you." He let his hands fall and took a step back, lips pressed in a tight line.

Terry just nodded, "Bye, Bobby." Then, because she didn't know if she could watch him leave, she backed up a few steps and then turned and walked away, back out into the rain.