xp_logs | Nathan and Remy, Wednesday afternoon

Nathan and Remy catch up a little. Nathan gives Remy a rather odd gift and invites him for a pool game.

Remy parked the car and tossed the keys into the bin by the door. The garage was stocked like a showroom, and every so often he liked to switch the coloured tags on the rack just to hear the others curse. He shouldered his bag and walked out through the rear door, stopping long enough to pluck an apple from the dish before stepping out into the early summer air.

It had warmed up considerably from the prior gloominess, and Remy considered briefly how nice it was not to want to die every three seconds from illness. He crunched a bite as his long legs hit stride on the path back towards the boathouse, and he caught sight of Nate prowling around the patio area in the front, beside the dock.

Nathan looked up with a quick smile as he approached. "There you are," he said, then resumed looking under the dock. "I was actually looking for you, but then there was an overly vocal duck."

"Careful. Cain's been trained dem as attack fowl." Remy took another bite and tossed his bag on the wooden bench. "Aren't you supposed to be in Italy still, or de dose charges from de early nineties finally catch up wit' you." He smirked and flopped into the patio lounge.

"Wouldn't put it past him," Nathan murmured, then shrugged mentally and gave up on the duck. Moving a bit carefully on the uneven ground - he might have dumped the cane, but he was a little unsteady at times, still - he joined Remy on the patio, sitting down on the end of the other lounge chair.

He put the little box with the Murano glassmith's emblem on it beside him. "Too many finals to mark," he explained, answering Remy's question. "Moira stayed behind on Muir for a few days, but I decided I needed to head back. A vacation isn't as good an excuse as traction was not to be doing my job."

"Vacation, maybe. But a honeymoon? Dat's like a trump card right dere, homme." Remy took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "But you didn't miss much in any case. De usual meltdown, angst, Remy sicker den a pack of dogs. So some entertainment." He grinned.

"I followed a little bit of it on the journals," Nathan said. "Then Moira threatened to throw my laptop into the Gulf of Salerno. She'd have done it, too." He glanced at the box and it floated up off the chair and over to Remy. "Little something. We were picking up souvenirs and I thought immediately of you."

Remy tensed instantly and forced himself to relax, remembering Lorna's words. "Dat's wasn't necessary, homme. You supposed to get de gifts when you married, 'member?" He joked as he took the box from the air, fiddling with it. He was neither used to gifts or even being considered outside of a professional situation.

"It's nothing particularly dazzling," Nathan said wryly. "Moira and I went through Murano and she decided that she liked the glass. That glass was good, and not just for souvenirs for the people back here. Did I mention there's a scary amount of glassware in our suite at the moment? Because she sent it all back with me, of course..." He very carefully kept a straight face as Remy got the box open, removing the figurine inside, so carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

Remy looked puzzled at the small purple hued glass figurine of a donkey, turning it this way and that so it caught the sun, a slight smile twitching his features.

"So," Remy said, carefully deadpan. "You saw a purple ass and thought of Remy immediately?"

"His name is Cesare," Nathan said with just as much of a deadpan look. "And I thought he had a certain charm. For an ass."

"Cesare." Remy shook his head and put the figurine carefully back into the wrapping. He slipped the box back into his bag, oddly gratified by the gift.

"Merci, Nate. Now anytime dat Madelyn calls Remy an ass, I can tell her dats Cesare, and not Remy. Bet I can drive her mad inside of a week from not understanding de joke." He grinned.

"Well, there's a fringe benefit I hadn't thought of," Nathan said, unable to help a chuckle. "Really, though? The reason I picked it up is because... well. There I was in this picture-perfect Italian city with a heavily pregnant Scotswoman shopping on a gelato high, trying to speak Italian to a flamboyantly gay glass-smith who insisted on knowing who each item was for, to make sure that his works were going to people who would appreciate them. I figured Cesare himself was amusing, and paired with the mental image I'm currently inflicting on you..."

Remy snorted, shaking his head. "Think dat you to dangerous to be 'lowed to shop alone, homme. 'fraid to even think what you got for de others."

Remy settled back in his chair and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing a smoke ring out over the lake. "Now Remy associated wit' a gay purple ass..." He muttered.

"Charles had something of a coughing fit at the sight of his," Nathan said with a perfectly straight face, but didn't elaborate. "So are you feeling all right?" he asked, changing tacks. "Heard something about the flu, from Rahne..."

"Caught something in Denver. Currently, Remy think it was de Black Death." Remy chuckled grimly. His body still ached from the sickness, but the activity and the sun was starting to leech some of it away. "Only get sick a couple of times a decade, so when dey hit, well..."

"Lucky. My immune system's been next door to shit for the last eight years so I get everything. One of the reasons I hate flying commercial is that eighty percent of the time I walk off the plane and within twelve hours I'm coughing up a lung." Nathan watched the smoke rings Remy was blowing, idly reshaping them into knots. "But, Black Death or not, you seem to have survived."

"Barely. Lorna made soup and promised to kill me if I died on her. Wit' 'manda backing her up, dat's not some idle threat. Plus, I think it had something to do wit' de poison dat Jake slips into my coffee every morning." Remy picked up his half eaten apple and took another bite. "He thinks I don't notice. What a little rascal."

"See, the key there is to never let the coffee out of your sight. Everyone thinks I do that just because I'm a hopeless caffeine addict, but they never stop to think about the strategic value of keeping the coffee close." Nathan grinned suddenly. "You could always press him into service as your food-taster? Give him a really good reason to complain."

"Actually, I've kind of grown to like the taste. A kind of picante flavour wit' dat rat poison. Like adding chicory." Remy said straight-faced.

Nathan laughed. "Silver linings?" he offered as he got up, moving back over to the wooden bench so that he could lean against the back of it more easily than with the lounge chair. That's better... "Left the cane in Scotland," he said, noticing Remy's attention shift to him as he moved, "but the back is still letting me know that it's not happy with me most of the time."

"How long until you got de chance to be dumb and start running around de Danger Room?" Remy said, knowing full well Nate's own tendencies. His movements were stiff and unnatural, but seemed to be without twinges of pain. Remy would have given him even odds at lasting about eight seconds on the mat, but it was a far cry from the immobilized form in a hospital bed only a few months before.

"The Danger Room? A while yet, except for powers-testing. They want to start checking my TK. Psionics have weird lingering effects from neurological shock sometimes. Otherwise, I might be cleared for light sparring sometime this week." Nathan frowned for a moment, wondering at the edge of anxiety that came along with the thought, but he shook it off. "I'm starting to feel well enough that part of me's champing at the bit, but I know better than to rush things."

"Make sense. 'specially if you hurt yourself again, dat wife of yours isn't going to stop wit' you spine, homme." Remy pointed out. "'sides, de X-Men not going to fall apart if you take an extra few weeks to get back up to fitness, you know."

"Really?" Nathan bantered. "Here I thought I was the indispensable man. Although... wait. I have fretted in your general direction about leaving them without a field-capable telepath, haven't I?" he conceded dryly. "Ah, well. I'll be back in the saddle soon enough."

"Told you dat I didn't want details 'bout de wedding night, Nate."

"Oh, hah." Nathan gave him a speculative look. "You and I should go down to Harry's and find a pool table one of these nights. Before Moira gets back from Scotland and nursery-decorating starts taking up all my free time."

"'mazing how you find a pool table dere most of de time." Remy nodded. "And other den about a metric ton of paperwork, Remy's time is pretty free right now. Have to integrate Braddock into de system before we're ready to head back out. Plus, have to play delivery boy for 'manda."

"Betsy mentioned she was going to be working with you and Jake. We had one of those ten-second telepathic 'here's what the last week and a half's been like' encounters. Kind of a headrush." He tilted his head, though, regarding Remy curiously at his last comment. "Delivery boy? And they say she's got me wrapped around her little finger..."

"If only." Remy smirked. "'manda met a kid in de city. Other of de magic obsessives. Went to check him out, make sure dat he not something dat going to blow up on us. Turns out dat he's a pretty normal guy. Kind of comforting to meet someone outside of dis life sometimes."

Nathan's expression cleared, the curiosity replaced by pleased understanding. "Good to know she's getting out and having a social life," he said. "She's been feeling a little overwhelmed lately, with Meggan suddenly meaning she's got to reorient her whole life." They had talked some more yesterday about how to balance her commitments a little better. "Good for you, too," he said thoughtfully. It wasn't quite a question.

"Like I said, Remy just de delivery boy." Remy held up his hands. "Based on what I've read, I hope dat Kurt and others get involved wit' d' enfant. She's, what, almost a teenager or something? If dat's so, den she's going to need a lot more den 'manda can give her if she going to get where she needs to be."

"One of the reasons that it's good she's here," Nathan said. "I'd quote the whole 'it takes a village to raise a child' thing at Amanda but... better to focus on doing it, rather than making a big production of it," he said, thinking about their conversation yesterday. "For better or worse, she's taken it on and I don't want to see her fall short. For her own sake, as well as Meggan's."

"One of de things dat worries me a bit. 'manda takes symbols seriously, homme. Guess it part of de magic thing. Instead of big sister, she got maman dropped on her, and no matter who's involved, dats a hell of a lot of pressure." The thoughts had been rolling around Remy's head during his sickness, and the conversation with Charlie had knocked some of it loose. "She's going to be stretching over too many things dat people can't pick up de slack for. 'pecially when she feels only a hair from a failure herself, most of de time."

"It's a catch-22, Remy. She tries and succeeds, and wears herself to a shadow, or she tries and fails and her self-esteem takes another blow. Maybe the best thing to do would have been not to let her try, but the consequences of that would probably have been just as bad," Nathan pointed out a bit grimly. "Entirely possible, at the very least, that she'd have left and tried to do it anyway." She'd as much as said that to him, after all, and taking Meggan by force would have been a very bad option. "At least doing it here she can get some help."

"Hope you right, homme." Remy shook his head. He had considered whether or not her sudden adoption of Meggan might be tied in with the loss of Pete, and her need for family. If that was the case, he didn't want to even consider the reprecussions. "In any case, not like we got anything to say 'bout it in the first place."

"Mm. At least you're not getting hit up for parenting advice," Nathan said, then chuckled. "Did I ever tell you that I made it in time for my son's birth with about two minutes to spare? Came tearing off the helicopter, still wearing my body armor, covered in soot and blood and six other different kinds of crap and came through the delivery room doors right in time to hear Aliya screaming that she was going to castrate me."

"You old romantic, you. Never understood why dey called it a beautiful moment." Remy said dryly. "Dat's one thing to be grateful for. Not like Remy going to be looking down de wrong end of a cradle anytime soon." Unspoken was the fact that Remy didn't imagine he'd ever be in either the position to even consider it, or last long enough to follow through if he did want to.

"I never thought I'd be in that position again," Nathan pointed out, keeping his voice light. "Or even imagined that I'd want to be, for years." The image of that hotel room in San Francisco surimposed itself on the memory of the delivery room, and Nathan blinked, banishing them both. "Funny what can happen to make you want to live, isn't it?"

"Well, de alternatives are pretty damn final." Remy nodded, mentally skirting the conversation. He didn't want to dwell too far in this area, worried more about the answers he might find.

Nathan recognized the hesitancy for what it was, and shifted the conversational track smoothly. "A little constructive hedonism never hurt anyone," he said. "Hence the pool suggestion. Hell, we could even drag Cain down with us and see how many windows he breaks bellowing at me that I'm cheating. You'd think we telekinetics weren't to be trusted around a pool table or something." He grinned. "After all, balls move at ninety degree angles all the time."

"So dat's why he put a contract out on you life. I was wondering." Remy mused, finally getting up out of the chair. "Figured dat he was just in love wit' you wife or something. As I said, I'm pretty much free for de next while, so just yell from de house. Dere's no monster truck rallies on dis week, so I think Cain's free too..."

"Will do," Nathan said, hauling himself up as well. "Right now I have to go tweak a geography exam. I think I left a few too many opportunities for students to tell me that Japan was an island in the Crimean Sea and that sort of thing." He grinned, inclining his head in the direction of the box. "And remember. Cesare will be watching."

"Dat's what Remy needs watching over him; a gay purple ass." Remy gave Nate a wry smile. "And Nate, merci." He said, before disappearing through the door.