Disclaimer: All characters that matter belong to Marvel Comics. I came up with Maria, but as she's the product of two of Marvel's characters, I guess she's kinda theirs, too. I totally blame Andraste for giving me the idea for the fic; it's all her fault. I wrote it for the Fanfiction Holiday Project of 2002. This story assumes that Banshee went way downhill after his X-Corps operation went sour, and stayed that way for quite some time. It also assumes that the strike force Xavier put in place at the X-Corporation stayed intact and active, and even more indulgently assumes that James Proudstar somehow joined the same branch as Theresa. So enough with the assumptions and on with the story!

You Can Always Go Home Again

By Red Monster

"Jimmy, pull over and let me drive the rest of the way," said Theresa Cassidy-Proudstar to her husband, James.

"Why should I do that?"

"Because you nearly got us into a head-on collision back there, and I don't want to take any more chances with Maria," she reminded him. She referred to their one-year-old daughter, Maria Maeve Cassidy-Proudstar, babbling at her stuffed bear in the carseat behind them. "You've been nervous for the whole drive, so let me take over."

"I'm fine, I'm just not used to driving on this side of the road."

They were taking a rented car from the airport in Galway, Ireland, to Theresa's family home in County Mayo, to spend Christmas with her father, Sean Cassidy.

"And I am, so why do you insist?"

"Because I'm afraid that if I let you drive, you're gonna turn this thing around and take us straight back to the airport, no matter what it's like to take a baby on a plane."

Theresa hadn't seen her father in over a year, and hadn't seen him on good terms in much longer. After his X-Corps went up in flames, she was fed up with him enough, but when she found out his drinking problem had gotten so bad he could hardly do anything else, she was ready to give up on him entirely. James thought she was being too hard on him; she was an alcoholic as well, and he hadn't given up on her. Still, she maintained that she'd been sober for years, and that she had never caused as much damage or let herself become as useless as Sean had become. He could do much better than that, and she was furious at him for running his life into the ground. James still thought Theresa was being unfair to her father, but even he had to admit that in his state at the time, Sean hadn't been much company.

When Theresa found out she was pregnant with Maria, she didn't tell Sean. One day, when he was coherent enough to travel to the X-Corporation HQ in Europe, he was stunned to walk into a room and find Theresa there, feeding her three-month-old daughter. She was immediately upset that he'd been asked to come and no one had warned her beforehand. The bottom line was that she didn't want him anywhere near her baby. She told him that until he quit drinking and did something useful with his life, she wouldn't bring her child within a hundred feet of him.

"I won't turn the car around," Theresa said with a pronounced roll of her eyes. "Not until we get there and see, at least. Do you really trust me so little?"

"I haven't forgotten the last couple of years," he said. "Just let me know if I start drifting right. We'll be fine."

James, as well as the rest of the X-Corp, thought Theresa was being ridiculous. How could she be so protective of her child, while working in a mutant strike force? How could she react so harshly to her father's problems? Was she trying to punish him for not having raised her himself? Had she really expected to keep him from finding out she'd had a baby?

"This isn't about punishing Da," she'd told them. "This is about looking out for my baby. Would you want that man involved in your child's life?"

After she'd made that clear, she still faced disagreement from her partner, and her teammates, and her superiors, but they didn't challenge her.

"MmmmBAH!" exclaimed Maria from the back seat.

"Ooh, does someone want some attention?" Theresa cooed. She turned around in her seat to reach into the back and play with her child. "We're almost there, little love, and then we'll let you out of that seat and everyone'll want to play with you..." She tickled Maria under her chin.

James watched them in the rearview mirror and smiled. Maria was seventeen months old. He had asked Theresa to marry him just hours after she was born. She immediately said yes, but they didn't actually get married for another year. They went to the courthouse in Paris with their friend Sam Guthrie and their toddling child to tie the knot. Sometimes, he still didn't believe it--that he and Theresa were married, and the toddler in the back seat was their daughter. Sometimes it still didn't seem real. This was not one of those times. "Terry, how are you going to tell me if I'm slipping over?"

"I can see the road through the back window," she crooned in her play-with-baby voice.

After the initial incident of Sean walking in on Theresa and the baby, they didn't hear from him for several months. Eventually they got a letter from him, with the news that he was clean and sober and had just gotten a job as a detective with the Garda in Newport. That was enough to get Theresa talking to him again. That October, Sean spoke with her and James over the phone and asked them if they would spend Christmas with him. Theresa was still reluctant at first, but after a bit of prodding from James, she agreed that Christmas with her father was worth a try.

When they reached Cassidy Keep, Theresa carried Maria on her hip and grappled with her home set of keys in the other hand, while James carried their bags. The Keep used to have an old-fashioned lock on the main doors with an enormous brass key, but Theresa's uncle, "Black Tom" Cassidy, had gotten a more modern, secure lock installed when his niece was a child, with a small, conventional key to go with it. As soon as she pressed the key into the lock, they heard a familiar voice call out, "It's open, come in!"

They opened the doors to find Eamon, the Cassidy family's housekeeper, at the top of a ladder to hang a garland along the wall. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, and the hall was warm.

"Eamon, great to see you!" said James.

"Where has my Da stowed himself?" Theresa asked.

"You don't waste any time, do you, Terry?" James remarked.

"He's at work," Eamon began, climbing down the ladder. "Come here, let me see the baby."

"Yes," she said, once he had climbed down and was standing in front of them. "Eamon, this is Maria Maeve," she said, smiling at her daughter. "Darlin', can you say Hi to Eamon?"

"Hi," said the toddler, flapping one small hand open and shut.

"I've fixed your rooms," he said, after Theresa handed Maria into his waiting arms. "Terry's old room is set up for the baby, and you two can stay in the room next to it." He explained this while mostly looking at James, who was still holding their bags.

"Thanks," said James, heading for the stairs.

"How has Da been doing lately? Be honest with me." Theresa asked while James went to put away their luggage.

"Very well, truly," said Eamon. "I've spoken with some other Garda at his precinct; they're thrilled with the work he's doing over there. He's taking great care of himself, too."

"I certainly hope so," Theresa said, looking to the side.

"I remember how he was before, and I don't blame you for what you said; you know, that you didn't want him around your child. But he's really straightened himself out, Theresa. He's just like he was when I knew him before Moira died."

She nodded. "Do you always have a fire going at this time of day?" she asked.

"All this week, yes," Eamon said, nodding at the change of subject. "You know how drafty the Keep is, so I've warmed the place up for her sake," he explained. Maria pulled off her hat and threw it on the nearby sofa.

"Looks like you've done a good job, then," Theresa chuckled.

"The rooms look great, Eamon," said James, coming back down the stairs. "You've really been busy around here, huh?"

"Well, I didn't do it all in a day," he shrugged.

"We could help you with the decorating," Theresa offered, "so it'll go faster."

"Actually, your father's car's in the shop and his shift ends in half an hour. Why don't one of you go to get him from work? He's been flying to and from for the past week."

"Oh my," James said, chuckling at the thought of Sean flying with his sonic-scream on at full blast over the countryside. "Yeah, I'll do that. I'll take Maria along and keep her out of your hair."

"Jimmy, you don't know where the station is," said Theresa.

"Give me the address. I'll find it."

"Is there anyone you're looking for, sir?" asked a woman somewhere behind him at the precinct.

James turned around and saw it was the desk clerk talking to him. She must have noticed him looking around like he was lost, while carrying a toddler, and wondered what he was up to.

"Yes." He walked up to her. "I'm looking for Detective Cassidy."

"And what would you need with him?"

"I was told his shift ends soon, so I'm here to take him home. I'm his son-in-law."

The clerk suddenly smiled brightly. "So you're James, then?"

"Yeah," he said. "I didn't know he was telling his co-workers about me."

"And that's Detective Cassidy's granddaughter there?" she asked, looking at Maria.

"Hi," said Maria.

"Yes, this would be her," James answered.

"Here, the Detective's at his desk, just finishing up his paperwork for the day." The clerk stood up from her desk, and led James back farther into the station. "He should be finished any minute now, but I'll let you go on in. I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you both."

Sean saw them first. "Annie, where did you find these two?" he called out to them.

"They were wandering around the front looking lost," the clerk answered. "You want me to put him in for questioning, or will you take care of it?" she joked. P>"You go back up front; I'll need a few minutes with them to decide."

While Annie went back to her post, James went to stand next to Sean's desk, which was plastered in paper.

"What are you doing here, son?" Sean asked, smiling.

"Thought I'd pick you up from work, let you meet the baby, drive you home rather than let you serenade your neighbors again," James explained.

"I see you've talked to Eamon, then. Where's Theresa?"

"She's helping Eamon decorate the Keep. It's best they do that while she's not around," he propped up Maria in his arms, who giggled.

"So that's Maria there," said Sean. "My Lord, she's gotten so big since I last saw her."

James couldn't help but feel saddened at that observation. The last time Sean had seen Maria, she had been three months old and he hadn't even been allowed to see her face.

"How old is she now?" he asked.

"Oh, she's seventeen months now," James answered. "And she loves to play with long snaky things, like garlands and Christmas lights." He looked at the little girl and tickled her behind the ear, making her giggle some more. "Don't you, little imp?"

"Then we'd better hope Theresa and Eamon finish before we get back. Listen, I don't know how much longer this will take..."

"I'll take her outside," James agreed, "maybe find her a snack."

"Yes, that sounds like a great idea," Sean agreed.

"Right, just hope we find something other than junk food, or her mother'll kill us both," James said, turning around to head back outside.

"That's a good man," said Sean, while returning to his work.

"What, you think I'm joking?"

"Why did you do it, Sean?" James asked him in the car, on the way back to the Keep.

"Why did I do what, James?"

"Well, I mean, you quit drinking, for one, and I know that's no cakewalk. Then you've gotten this great new job, and it's exactly what Terry told you to do before she'd let you near Maria. Did you do all this for her sake?"

"It wasn't really that," Sean sighed. "It was more that...Theresa's being so angry was a wake-up call. She didn't even tell me when she was expecting, and here I'd been thinking we had this great relationship. I knew something had gone wrong in a big way when I found out."

"And it couldn't possibly be that Theresa was forgetting where she came from?"

"I wasn't about to kid myself that much, James. I was a mess, and everyone knew it. No sense in trying to pretend otherwise."

"Granted. But if Terry doesn't trust you now, then something's gone seriously wrong with her, and everyone knows it. Isn't that right, pumpkin?" James looked into the rearview mirror to look at Maria. "Aren't you happy to meet your Granda Sean?"

"Yah!" Maria answered.

"But don't ever call me that again," said Sean.

"But don't ever call you what again?"

"That disgusting g-word."

"What, Granda? I thought that was the terminology you Irish used. Would you rather she call you Grampa? Gramps? Gran-daddy-o?"

"No, none of that. I'm not old enough to be hearing those words directed at me just yet."

"Sean, you're fift--"

"Don't start with me!"

The three of them returned to Cassidy Keep just as Eamon and Theresa were closing up the emptied boxes. Maria toddled into the main hall with her coat and hat with earflaps still on.

"Mommy!" she called while running towards Theresa.

"Hello, darling!" said Theresa. She squatted down and held her arms out for her daughter. "Did you have a good time? Did Daddy hit all the bumps in the road the way you like?" She slowly made her way toward James and Sean, while unzipping Maria's coat and removing her hat.

"Gwan-da!" Maria said, and pointed at Sean.

Though Sean didn't notice, James turned his head and snickered at him.

"Yes, you went and brought home your Granda! How was that?" Theresa said. Maria grinned. "Wait, I smell chocolate on this child's breath. What have you two been feeding her?" she demanded, glaring at her husband and father.

"Relax, Terry, she had one cookie," said James. "A little one. Her appetite isn't spoiled."

Theresa nodded. "As long as she's still in that growth spurt, I suppose a cookie is okay. Da, how are you doing?" she asked, turning to Sean.

"Very well, in fact," Sean nodded. "I'm so glad you all could come this year," he said, looking at both Theresa and James. "It's been far too long since this place saw anything happy going on. No offense to you, Eamon."

"Of course not," said Eamon, who was stacking up Christmas decoration boxes to take them back into the storage room. "I know what you mean."

"I've missed you, too," said Theresa. She leaned in and kissed her father on the cheek. "It's good to see you again, doing so well."

"How about some dinner?" Sean asked. "I'm sure there's enough for a suitable meal in the kitchen, or do you want to go out?"

"I think we've had enough traveling for one day," said Theresa. "Jimmy, what do you think?"

"Yeah, we'll eat in," James agreed.

Sean gave Eamon the night off, and the rest of them headed toward the kitchen. "Don't stawt wif me!" Maria piped up.

"Kids say the darnedest things."

The adults soon discovered that cooking dinner was a job best done without a child scampering around the kitchen. Therefore, they took turns watching Maria in the main hall while the other two cooked. When it was Sean's turn to watch the baby, Theresa frequently paused from her cooking to look through the window in the kitchen door into the larger room.

"They're fine, Terry," said James, after the fourth time he noticed her doing this. "Stop worrying."

"I can't help it," she said, while returning to her post at the counter. "I'm her mother, it's my job to worry."

"What are you afraid he's gonna do? It's not like he's ignoring her, I can see that from here." He looked through the door window to find Maria tugging Sean around the room by his forefinger.

"He might...let her too near the fire," Theresa shrugged. "He doesn't have very much experience with small children, you know. In fact he doesn't have any, that I know of."

James came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, under her elbows. "It wasn't his fault that he didn't raise you, and you know it," he whispered in her ear.

"I know that. It's not a judgment on him, it's just a fact," Theresa responded. "Look, I'm not harboring the same grudge on him as before, I'm really happy with how far he's come." She turned her head up to look her husband in the eye. "You were right about coming here. But you know how she is, and I don't know of a time that he's been alone with a toddler before."

"You're just not finished stressing out yet. You haven't used up your quota of wringing your hands over your father, have you?"

"Perhaps that's it," she conceded, going back to chopping celery. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"Not at all. If you're afraid she's too rambunctious for him, you can take over. He's been in there with her long enough."

"I suppose he has," she said, and put down her knife.

Theresa found her father in the middle of a game of "airplane" with Maria. He had his back turned to the kitchen, while Maria was facing it.

"Mommy!" she laughed from atop Sean's hands.

Sean turned around upon hearing this. "I didn't hear you come in." He still held Maria horizontally over his head.

"Would you mind cooking for awhile?"

"Not if you don't mind being the airplane-carrier."

"I would love to be the airplane-carrier."

"I think someone just wants to play with the baby," Sean said as he lowered Maria onto Theresa's hands.

"Okay, you've got me. I can't stay away from my little girl for very long," Theresa admitted with her toddler held over her head.

"I don't blame you. She's a treat," said Sean, and went into the kitchen.

"I see you two are still in the X-Corp," said Sean after they all sat down to eat.

"That's right," said Theresa, who was busy cutting Maria's food into tiny pieces.

"And you're in their strike force, correct?"

"Correct," said James.

"And what do you do in the strike force, if I may ask? I mean, how is your team different from the X-Men?"

"We do scut work, basically," James answered. Theresa laughed, softly, through her nose. Maria thought this meant something was very funny, and grinned.

"Scut work? I guess you're not happy with your occupation, then. Sorry I asked."

"I'm not complaining," said James. "I'm just saying, if you asked one of the X-Men what we do, that's probably the impression you'd get."

"But is there ever a time when you don't like it? Especially now that you have a child, have you ever considered getting out to do something else with your lives?"

"We talked about it on some occasions, especially while I was pregnant with her, but ultimately we never left," said Theresa. She had finished cutting her daughter's food, and they were both digging into their own plates.

"Do you ever worry about who'll take care of her if you two get killed while you're out there?"

"Only every minute," Theresa answered. "It gives me all the more incentive to come back alive."

"Then what do you get out of it?"

"There's nothing like saving lives," said James. "Don't tell me, Sean, in all the time you were with INTERPOL, and the NYPD, and the X-Men, and in your time at the Massachusetts Academy, you never pulled someone out of a certain-death situation, and they looked at you like you were a messenger from God? Have you never had that happen?"

"Jimmy's very fond of pulling frightened people out of train wreckages, burning buildings; he really loves burning buildings. We like to joke back at headquarters that he's actually the one setting the fires, because he loves rescuing grannies," Theresa explained.

"They haven't proved anything yet," James quipped.

"That is quite a rush, isn't it?" said Sean to James. "What about you, Theresa? What keeps you in that uniform?"

"Fighting evil for me is like law enforcement for you. It's the habit I just can't kick. But why are you asking us all these questions, Da? It sounds like you're trying to talk us into quitting. You were in the same line of work for years; what's so different about us?"

"What's different is that I never knew I had a small child back home. By the time you came along," he pointed at Theresa with his fork, "you were all grown up, and could fend for yourself. I just want to know you don't feel trapped in it, that you only keep it up because you don't know of any other options."

"I don't feel trapped," said Theresa. "Sometimes I wonder what we'd do for a living if we left--don't you sometimes think about that too, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, there've been a few times when we sat up late at night and threw ideas around," James said.

"But we choose to stay," Theresa continued. "Because Paris--all the world really, but especially Paris--is so volatile from all the human-mutant tensions, we couldn't live with ourselves if we didn't stay to help make things better. Oh, and speaking of having a small child back home; Jimmy, would you tell Da about our childcare arrangement, while I set an example for this child to eat her dinner?" Maria, who was initially interested in demonstrating how well she could feed herself, had been watching the grownups talk, and apparently decided that was more interesting, so she'd taken to babbling randomly rather than eating. Theresa set about showing her how much fun the fork and carrots were.

"Okay. The agreement is, when the strike force is getting sent out on a mission, whoever's sending us out--usually Xavier or Summers--decides which one of us would be better suited to the mission, and the other one of us stays back and looks after Maria. If we're both needed, then we leave the munchkin with someone who's staying, and we owe them a favor when we get back," James explained.

"And what if something big happens, so everyone has to go?"

Theresa swallowed very fast, so she could speak up. "That hasn't happened yet," she said.

"But it's exactly for occasions like that one that Xavier wants to hire a nanny. Terry and I aren't so keen on the idea."

"We're not ready to turn raising our child into someone else's job just yet," Theresa stated. "But enough questions about us, Da. What about you? Is Newport a hotbed of heinous crimes?"

"You'd be surprised. Today, we started investigating a double homicide, and I'm not allowed to discuss the details with you, but all the neighbors are telling us something different."

"So then, what you're telling us is, 'not really'," Theresa said with a smirk.

"It's certainly not New York," said Sean, "but then, no other city is."

"I loved New York when we were there," said Theresa, recalling the time when X-Force lived in the Murderworld complex they'd hijacked from Arcade, and then lived at the Xavier Institute in Westchester after Arcade got back at them and destroyed the complex. "Didn't you, too, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, chasing Feral around the South Bronx was a lot of fun."

Theresa gave him a look.

"Kidding!" He turned to Sean. "New York was great as long as I didn't let her near any dress sales."

It was the 22nd of December when they arrived. On Christmas Eve night, Sean and Theresa went with Eamon and his family to midnight Mass at nearby St. Michael's Church. James couldn't be dragged into a church in chains even on Christmas Eve, and they agreed, anyway, that making Maria sit through a worship service was not to be attempted, so he stayed in with his daughter. He was usually a sound sleeper, but not in an unfamiliar bed. The sound of the baby whimpering for attention woke him in the middle of the night.

He put on his bathrobe and slippers and went into the room next door. Maria was standing up in an old baby crib, and held out her arms when he came in.

"Hey, sweetie, what's the matter?" he asked while picking her up.

"Doose?" she said. This was her version of "juice."

"Okay, we'll go downstairs."

He carried her down to the kitchen, where he filled a sip-cup full of warm water. "We already brushed your teeth, so just water, okay?" Maria nodded, and James handed her the cup.

She'd been sleeping in what was presumably Theresa's old crib, brought out of storage for their visit and placed next to Theresa's childhood bed. When James lowered Maria back into the crib, her hand got caught under his arm, and she lost her grip on the cup. It rolled across the floor to stop just under the bed. When James picked it up, he found that it had been stopped by one of two shoeboxes placed side by side. Curious, he stacked up the shoeboxes and held them under one arm, carrying the sip-cup in the other hand. After he wiped the sipper off on his t-shirt and gave it back to Maria, who was still standing up in the crib, he opened one of the shoeboxes.

"Jackpot!" he whispered. Inside were hundreds of baby and childhood pictures of Theresa. He had seen some before, on his first trip to Cassidy Keep, but nowhere near this many. The room was lit by a small lamp on a table next to the crib. James held up the pictures to Maria. "Would you like to see pictures of Mommy?"

She nodded eagerly, with the sipper still in her mouth.

He held one, showing Theresa at about five months, in front of her.

"Baby," she said, pointing to the photograph.

"Yeah, that's Mommy there."

"Baby no Mommy!"

"Well she wasn't then, but she's Mommy now." The next one showed a pretty young blond woman lying in bed and holding a newborn. "That's your Grandma Maeve there, holding Mommy just after she was born. You got your middle name from her."

"Gwan-ma Mabe," Maria pronounced, pointing at Maeve's face.

Next picture. "See that man there? That's Tom, he took care of Mommy when she was little. Now who's that pretty girl sitting on his lap?"

"Mommy?" she guessed, wide-eyed.

"That's right!"

The other box was also full of photographs; most were in black and white, with a few notable exceptions. A brief examination decided the boys shown in the pictures were young Sean and Tom Cassidy. James held one, of a dark-haired preschooler holding up a blanket between himself, sitting on a stool, and a toddler in a high chair, for Maria to see.

"What kind of game are they playing there?"

"Peek-a-boo," said Maria, smiling.

"And who's that?" he pointed to the boy in the high chair. Maria shrugged, sipping on her warm water. "That's your Granda Sean."

"Baby Gwan-da?"

"That's right. Who's the other little boy?" Another shrug. "That's Tom again."

The next one showed a somewhat older Sean, maybe five years old, walking down a path next to a beautiful dark-haired woman. At first James thought the woman might be Sean's mother, but another photo in the handful showed Sean with a woman who looked much more like him. On closer examination, the dark-haired woman looked strikingly like Tom. He showed the picture of Sean and his mother to Maria. "There's your Granda again, with his mommy. She's your great-grandma."

One of the notable exceptions in the box was a color photo of a beaming, strawberry blond-haired toddler in a brightly lit setting. "Wow," James whispered. Without taking his eyes off it, he showed the photograph to Maria. "That's Granda Sean when he was about your age." She smiled around her sip-cup. James sat down on the bed, staring into the picture, trying to figure out what was so captivating about it. Finally, he looked back at his daughter. "So that's where you got your big green eyes from."

After the Midnight Mass service at St. Michael's let out, most of the parishioners walked home. Theresa and Sean split up from Eamon and his family at a fork in the road. By that point, they were alone on the street. There were no lights around them, and only a new moon. The temperature was above freezing, but with the dampness from that evening's rain, the air felt much colder. Their breath came out in clouds, and their breathing was the only sound to be heard.

"We had snow the week before you came," said Sean, breaking the silence.

"Really? How much?"

"Two inches. It looked nice for a few days, but then it warmed up and the rain washed it away. Hard to tell now, isn't it?"

"Oh well," Theresa sighed. "We've had snow in Paris, but I think we would've enjoyed it more over here. Paris is such an ugly place for mutants, we hardly ever take Maria out of headquarters. This is the first time she's ever been away from home. We can finally take her outside without worrying who might see her."

"I figured as much," Sean nodded. "So why did you wait so long to come back here?"

Theresa stopped walking, frozen in position. "Please tell me we're not having that conversation. You know why I stayed away for so long. Surely you must know."

"I think I do know, but I want to hear it in your own words."

"You want me to spell out everything you did that made me so angry? Is that it?"

"Yes. Spell it out."

"Only You know why we're having this conversation," Theresa muttered skyward. "I still don't know what you were thinking with that X-Corps business," she said to her father. "Using those villains in your squad should've seemed like nothing but trouble from the start, but you really outdid yourself with forcing that telepath to keep them in line. I won't say I didn't feel terrified when I heard Mystique nearly cut your carotid artery in half, but it shouldn't have been such a surprise when she turned up."

"Yes, I made some serious miscalculations."

"And you didn't bother trying to do anything to make things right, either."

"You think there's something I could've done when it was over?"

"Surely you could've done something other than come back here and be a miserable drunken mess! But you chose the worst possible time to stop trying! When Xavier asked me to join his new strike force, I had to do it; I'd really been enjoying working in that greenhouse in Manhattan, but after you screwed the pooch straight up the arse, someone had to do something to keep a little honor on the family name, and it wasn't going to be Tom," she added with a scoff. "Good Lord, he's been out of his skull for years, and up to no good since before I was born," she muttered.

"No one was forcing you to give up your civilian life in New York; you went back to be a superhero because it's the habit you can't kick. You said it yourself at dinner the other night."

"Fine, but I always thought you knew better than to go and make such a mess as that. I thought you were the smartest and strongest and sanest one in our family. That was one place where I never hoped to be proven wrong." She sat down on the low stone wall separating the road from the fields beside them, and looked at her feet. A tall column of steam rose into the air above her head as she exhaled.

"I really let you down, didn't I?" remarked Sean.

"If you're about to try and apologize to me, don't bother. I'm not the one who needs it."

"But you're the only one affected by that mess who'll be helped by hearing one at this point."

Theresa didn't move except to turn her head around to look at him.

"So here goes: I'm sorry I disappointed you, Theresa."

She looked back at her feet. "Apology accepted," she breathed.

"So why did you decide to give me another chance?"

"My husband was convinced I was being too hard on you."

"Stop joking around with me. That's never been enough to sway you."

"You cleaned up your act. I know you were still grieving for Moira when the X-Corps went up in flames, but now you've stopped wallowing in misery, and gone back to doing some good."

"I have to admit, though; after the X-Men? Double homicide in Newport is a bit anticlimactic."

"It may feel anticlimactic to you, but I'm sure the people around here appreciate it," she pointed out. "I'm also glad to see you're no longer hiding from your troubles in a bottle of whiskey."

"True, but I didn't do any of those things until you told me to."

"That doesn't make them any less important, and I'm sure it didn't make them any easier to do."

"No, it didn't. But seeing you back here with your family has been worth it."

Theresa smiled, and got up from the wall. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, are you done making me sing your praises yet?"

"Yes," he laughed. "Shall we go home now?"

"Please, before I freeze to death out here."

On the morning of Christmas Day, they opened their presents. While Theresa and James indulged in a game of BS (which they called "PF" around their daughter) and Maria toddled around the hall with her new dolly in hand, Sean surveyed the chaos of the wrapping paper, open boxes and tissue paper. He concluded that a certain package had not yet been found, and brought it up.

"There's a present that hasn't yet been opened," he said. "It's for the baby."

"Come here, Maria," said Theresa, beckoning to the child, who was apparently too caught up in the sound of the fire crackling and her own cooing to hear her mother.

"I'll get her," said James, getting up.

"Where is it, Da?"

"It's right here," said Sean, while crawling under the tree.

"No wonder it's not been opened, if you stowed it back there!"

James brought Maria up to sit in front of him on the floor next to the coffee table. Sean came out from under the tree with a flat, rectangular box and placed it in front of Maria. She immediately started to pull at the wrapping; James took off the ribbons for her, then left her to rip into the paper. Once the lid of the box was revealed, she shook it in her hands until the box's bottom half dropped out.

"Oooh," Maria squealed when she saw the contents of the box. She lifted out an exquisitely embroidered, white linen child's dress, turned off-white with age.

"Oh my," said James upon seeing what his daughter was holding. "Terry, look at this."

Theresa squatted down in front of her husband and daughter to get a closer look at the gift, and found herself speechless for some time. "Da, this is very nice," she said at last. "It looks old. Where did you get it?"

"It's been in the family for some time," said Sean. "My mother made it when I was a very little boy."

"No offense intended, Sean," James began, "but I don't think this would've suited you."

"She didn't make it for me," Sean retorted. "She was trying to have another baby, hoping for a girl. This was something for her daughter to wear."

"But I don't have an aunt living somewhere in Cork, do I?" said Theresa.

"No, Theresa, I would've told you about that. I stumbled across that dress when I was around ten or eleven, and by then, my mother had given up on a second child. She told me that if I ever had a daughter, I should give it to her. But as it turned out," he paused meaningfully, "surely I don't have to explain."

"Did you tell Mum about it?" Theresa asked.

"I'm afraid not. You know we weren't married for very long before I had to go." The part he didn't need to say out loud was, and we didn't know then that you were on the way.

"And I think Tom would've let me wear it if he'd known about it."

"Yes, I think so, too," agreed Sean. "Thank goodness it's not too late to give it to your little girl."

"Maria, how do you like your nice new dress?" James said to the child sitting in front of his feet. She answered by looking at him with her brightest, widest-mouthed smile. "You didn't get it from me," he said, lifting her to her feet. "Go give that look to your Granda." She turned her smile towards Sean.

"I think she likes it," Theresa smiled. "Would you like to try it on, pumpkin?" Maria nodded, with her high-beam smile. "Da, could she try it on?"

"I didn't give that to her to hang it on the wall."

Theresa came back down the stairs a few minutes later, carrying Maria dressed in the white linen dress and her corduroys. "She doesn't want to go without the trousers, Da, but she loves the dress," she said, lowering Maria to let her stand on the floor. "It'll fit her perfectly in a few more months. But she can wear it just fine for now." Maria went back to her fantasy world with the new dolly, frolicking and babbling her way around the hall.

"She's such a lovely little girl," Sean remarked, watching her play. "You two've done a wonderful job," he said to James and Theresa.

"It's not over yet," said Theresa. "We're just beginning."

"Terry, learn to take a compliment," said James. "Thank you, Sean."

On the 27th, it was time for James and Theresa to take Maria and go back to Paris.

"Sean, thanks for having us," said James as they headed out the door.

"Yes, Da, we've had a wonderful time," Theresa agreed.

"Well, thank you for coming. Can I expect you back for Easter?"

"Perhaps you could come to us," Theresa suggested. "I know of several X-Men who'd love to see you again."

"I'll think about it," said Sean. He stood in front of the double doors as they walked out towards their rental car.

Then, Maria started to squirm and make noises in Theresa's arms. "What's the matter, little love? What are you doing?"

"I think she wants to be put down," James suggested.

Theresa shrugged, and leaned down to let Maria walk. "What could it be this time?"

Maria ran to Sean and held her arms up towards him. He picked her up, and she laid a kiss on his cheek. "Gwan-da," she said.

"I love you too, sweetheart," said Sean. "Now go back to Mommy and Daddy." He put her back down, and she ran back to her parents, calling, "Bye-bye, Gwan-da," as she went.

Two weeks later, Sean received an envelope in the post, with his daughter's name in the return address. Inside was a small stack of photographs.

Maria learning to walk, supported by holding onto James's finger. A much smaller Maria sitting in a carseat, chewing on her stuffed bear's ear. Theresa holding Maria, at around the time Sean last visited the X-Men and found her. Theresa sitting in bed and holding newborn Maria. A very tired-looking but smiling James, again with the newborn. A very annoyed-looking and obviously pregnant Theresa, caught unawares at the computer.

At the end was a half-sheet of paper, and on it was written:

"Dear Da,

Everyone goes through an ugly time in their lives. You're still the smartest, strongest, and sanest one in our family.

Love,
Theresa

P.S. Jimmy points out Maria has your eyes."

~RM