Title: Yet Still Familiar
Author: scy
Feedback: scynneh@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. 
Fandom: Men with Brooms
Pairing: Cutter/Lennox
Spoilers: The movie
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Even after time has passed, some things are still partly true. 
Author's Notes: Has some relation to 'Novelty Accounted For,' and conceivably takes place in some timeline with that story. Written for malnpudl.  
July 2007

It was close to dawn when Cutter returned to the hotel. From his room next door, Lennox could hear the other man moving slowly around on his side of the wall. If he swung himself over to the end of his bed he'd be able to see what Cutter was doing, but he didn't feel like being the one responsible for starting a conversation that was likely to turn into an argument. Not three hours ago, he'd let Cutter in on his moment of realization and told the man that he hadn't fooled everyone for ten years and that Lennox had waited until Cutter could face the old team before telling the story. He could have made it into a morality tale too, but not everyone listened to his wisdom so he waited for the right moment to share. Such an opportunity hadn't presented itself with Cutter; the man hadn't looked at anyone for longer than a couple seconds at the funeral, and he'd kept his gaze on the floor for most of the playback of Coach Foley's will and so they'd barely glanced at each other up until the moment when Cutter spun around and picked up the curling stone and made tracks back to the hotel.

At least he'd been honest enough not to deny Lennox's accusation though the way he kept his explanations and distance from the team wasn't much better.

Before that last tournament, he'd been able to get through to Cutter when the other man thought he needed to get away from other people. Even when he took off into the woods or went for a really long drive, Lennox tracked him down, or rather, Cutter let Lennox find him. He didn't always listen to reason right away, but at least he accepted company.

Now Lennox didn't know who Cutter trusted to talk him into crazy schemes, or even if there was anyone who could fill that position. He'd been so quiet as the coach's codicil was played that if Amy hadn't glanced over at him when the stones were mentioned, he might have walked out without anyone noticing. At the moment, Lennox wasn't sure whether Cutter was planning on trying for the Golden Broom or not; they'd left him at the rink with the coach, and Lennox didn't claim to have a clue about how Cutter's mind worked anymore.   

After another few minutes of rustling and muffled thumps, all Lennox could hear from Cutter's room was the sound of his breathing. It was something that he remembered falling asleep to, and the instinct returned. Lennox pushed his pillow into a more agreeable shape and closed his eyes.

Lennox knew that it hadn't been the best idea to shoot his mouth off to the opposing team. He just wasn't expecting a bunch of old guys to go crazy and whip them so badly. Preferring to look at the most positive aspects of the evening, he was able to say that their pathetic loss had forced them to get real help.

After basically sending Cutter of to confront the lion, or the old recluse in his barn, Lennox knew better than to give a lecture about how absence didn't make the heart grow fonder, but just made for uncomfortable silences. Cutter had never been good at talking to his dad and after a few minutes together, the two of them were barely civil to one another.

Lennox was waiting outside for Cutter to return to the hotel; in the meantime he found a good sunny spot on the picnic benches in back and had one of his 'questionable cigarettes.'

By the time Cutter pulled into the parking lot, Lennox was feeling mellow enough to handle even Cutter's surliest mood.

"I see you're still in one piece, how did it go?"

"I think you can guess."

"Oh, sure, but I'd like to hear it."

"He'll coach us."

"That's good."

Cutter nodded but didn't say anything else and Lennox went inside, leaving him to figure out a way to adjust to the new order of things. 

Much later, when Cutter crawled onto the single bed, Lennox had been nearly asleep. He reached out and Lennox tugged Cutter close, letting his brain provide a soundtrack that was acceptable to the setting.

Cutter lifted his head and eyed him incredulously. "Did you just call me Jeannie?"

Running back over what he'd been saying , Lennox had to admit that he had. He didn't let Cutter stay amused at his expense for long, it was a matter of principle. "I'm really tired, man. All this training is hell on my lounging posture."

"You don't have posture, Jim, what you're doing now is called laying down."

"I could have posture, I choose not to," Lennox said with as much indigence as anyone could generate while trying to pull one of Cutter's pillows away from him. His attempt was thwarted by Cutter's increasingly firm grip on the pillow and unless Lennox wanted to shove Cutter off the bed, he wasn't going to get what he wanted.

"Do you have to take the best pillows?"

"Captain's prerogative, you already claimed your half of the bed."

"Well, if you weren't all the way to the edge, you'd have more room. I'm not crowded," he added, so that Cutter wouldn't use that as an excuse not to roll over. Lennox didn't mind staring at Cutter's back, but that wasn't the only view he appreciated. 

Cutter didn't agree about his positioning, but he did roll onto his back. His shoulder brushed Lennox's and as he shifted to find a spot that agreed with  him, Lennox looked up at the ceiling.

He felt that just by being near someone, Cuter was being stripped of all the defenses that he'd learned to use in keeping people from knowing how he felt. Lennox couldn't quite read his expression, but there was a fissure slowly widening as he stayed still and waited for Cutter to settle down.

"I don't remember you being so squirrelly in bed. Restless, yeah, and that was a mutual thing, but  what's with all the wriggling?"

"You're bitching because I'm not being still enough for you?"

"Well, I thought you wanted to get some sleep, and I don't see how that's going to happen when you can't make up your mind on which part of the bed feels good."

"What would feel good is not being harassed about how I get comfortable."

"Hey, if I saw any indication that you were comfy, I'd shut up but you're just getting more tense."

Cutter's breath hissed in between his teeth and from the length of the pause Lennox surmised that he was biting down on a slew of helpful suggestions. Cutter sat up and shoved his feet into his boots. 

"Fine, since you can't figure out when to let up, I'm going to sleep in my car, that way we can both get some sleep."

"What kind of solution is that?" Lennox demanded, pushing up on his elbows to watch Cutter yank his coat on and seize his keys from the bedside table. "If this is how you deal with people it's no wonder you don't know what to do when there's another person in bed with you."

Just seconds after the door slammed shut behind Cuter, Lennox regretted his words. He'd learned how to lash out from the man himself, but he hadn't been as good at apologizing for it.

"Figures, he keeps pushing until I say the perfect think to make him feel justified for sleeping in that junker all night. Full marks, Cutter, you're still a sneaky s.o.b."

There was no way that he'd be able to coax Cutter inside before morning, and he didn't really want to spend a couple hours trying to reason with someone who wasn't resigned enough to polite. Resolving to come up with a better plan the next night, Lennox turned into the warmth left by Cutter's body and fell asleep.

Between running and practicing, Lennox didn't have the time to devise even a halfway acceptable plan that would keep Cutter out of his car and on the same bed as his old friend, so he turned it over and over for no longer than it took to figure that out and then decided to work on a strategy later. 

Also, his knuckles hurt; Cutter the elder had been particularly emphatic about being the voice of experience and he didn't take Lennox's suggestions as helpful additions to his own schemes.

"Your dad's getting a bit crazed with that pointer," he commented as they limped to the hotel. "One day he's going to break a bone and then what're you going to do?"

"Wrap your hand and keep you away from the play board," Cutter said, sounding as reasonable as if he'd just offered to fix everything and take Lennox out for a cup of very bad coffee. This impression was based on past history and the only times he'd gotten Cutter to buy him anything edible had been either after a tournament win, or when he was feeling unusually responsible and wanted to make sure that Lennox got to eat at least one actual meal. Since Cutter didn't look to be all that confident in their chances of winning the Golden Broom at the moment and he'd just mentally pushed Lennox out of the way, he didn't think that he was on his way to a three course meal.

"But if I don't help with the  plays, who will?" Lennox asked. 

"My dad's the one running this team rehabilitation course, and I don't think he wants anyone else's input. Especially not mine," Cutter said. 

"Your dad wants to hear what you have to say, even if it's just so that he can disagree with you."

Now Cutter shot him a surprised look. "Part of the agreement that we made was that all he had to do was coach us. I didn't try and get something out of him that he never wanted."

"Okay, that's self-pity I'm hearing, and I've listened all of that I can stand from you for the next few years. Let's go with something different. Don't talk to your dad, that's your call, but don't tell me how wrong he is when you've got your own crap to work through."

"Crap?"

"Ten years ago I would have said you had issues, but it's been awhile and I think I've lost my diplomatic edge," Lennox said. 

"Since when have you even known the definition of diplomacy?"

"On the other hand, you've gotten even better at those snide remarks. Whatever you've been doing has really helped in that department."

"I was going to offer you the first shower because you're so sore, but now I think that you can just wait for a few minutes," Cutter said. 

Lennox sat down on the bed while Cutter walked into the bathroom and shut the door. The failing light barely illuminated the room but gathering around the closed door was an unnecessary reminder of what he hadn't been able to do just yet.

Cutter had forgotten his annoyance with Lennox by the time Julie had consented to go and spend time with him and so he'd even given a half wave as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

Cutter came back, was puked on by Amy and took her home. He was good at taking care of people, Lennox thought, too bad he wasn't around enough to do it regularly. 

When he returned for a second time, he was slumped, in mood and posture, so Lennox sat back on his bed and watched the other man wander around his room through the convenient hole in their adjoining wall.

"Has the damsel been safely delivered into the arms of her family?"

"Her son, Brandon, informed me that she wasn't sick, but drunk and Julie and Mrs. Foley glared me out the door," Cutter said. 

"Weren't you just with Julie?" Lennox asked. 

"Yes," Cutter said, and he sounded as excited at the memory as he had when he said that he hadn't even been around to be the cause of Amy getting drunk. 

"So, it's not directly your fault that Amy had a lapse."

"I thought you implied it was."

"Oh yeah, absolutely. But she's partly at fault too," Lennox said. 

"Thank you, Jim for that insight," Cutter said.

Cutter had sat down on his bed too, but that was as close to relaxing as he'd gotten. 

Lennox didn't have that problem, or many of the difficulties that Cutter seemed to accumulate. He'd only been back in town for a couple days, and already he was getting involved in a conflict with the two women who'd been a part of his life ten years ago. He could pick up where he left off, but so far, nothing had changed. 

"You going to get some sleep?" Lennox asked.

"Why?"

"We're going to be dealing with your dad tomorrow, and I always need to rest up before that."

"He's just going to work you until you fall over," Cutter said. "You know that."

"I'm not used to it," Lennox said. He had muscles that were still protesting Cutter Sr.'s approach to reconditioning, and he wondered if those parts of his body were going to stage a strike. 

"It'll come back," Cutter said. 

"Until it does, I need to get some sleep, and I can't do that if you're pacing and brooding all night long, Cutter."

"Jim-" Cutter waved a hand at Lennox, who mentally skimmed through his dictionary of interpreting Cutter's moods through body language, and made the first move, again. He got up off his bed and went through the wall; he was just buzzed enough to think of it symbolically, breaking down a couple of Cutter's barriers and maybe making progress, but then again, the man had always been truly stubborn, and he didn't count on it. 

"Scoot that-a-way," Lennox said, and when Cutter rolled to face the wall, Lennox took up the rest of the bed.

"We tried this the other night," Cutter said.

"Yes, and there's nothing that says we can't try it again," Lennox said. 

"Alright," Cutter said, and he was tired, likely blaming himself for the wrong things, and willing to let Lennox entertain wild ideas like cooperation and being well rested.

"Seriously, stop thinking." Lennox rolled onto his side and put a hand on Cutter's forehead. "Just let it go for awhile, you can pick up where you left off tomorrow, worrying, social disasters and everything."

Cutter snorted. "Promise?"

"I'll even tell you something at the wrong time to throw you off so you can bitch at me," Lennox offered.

"Mmm." Cutter accepted the peace offering and although he stayed turned away from Lennox, his shoulders loosened slightly. 

Lennox waited until Cutter's breathing deepened and then leaned over to kiss the side of his head.  "Night, Chris." Rolling onto his back, Lennox wriggled for a couple seconds, dropping all the tension away, and then he went right to sleep.

-end