xp_logs | Nathan and Saul, Alison and Haroun, Sunday afternoon

Nathan meets his father in New York. Saul is not at all what he expected. There are limits even to a lifetime of learned wariness, and all the caution in the world can be undone by the desire to believe.

Much better to do this in the open air, Nathan told himself, nodding to the waiter who led him to one of the empty tables in the little sidewalk cafe. Which was sort of counterintuitive from a security standpoint, but despite the fact that he did have backup along, this wasn't really a threat situation. Not of the conventional sort, at least.

He lowered himself into the chair with a sigh, and responded to the waiter's inquiry with "Just water for now, I'm waiting for someone." The idea of actually ordering food was almost enough to make him laugh. His stomach was busy trying to tie itself into knots, and bizarrely, he was having to repress the urge to look over to his left where Alison and Haroun were playing lovebirds at another table. And not having to put too much effort into the act, he thought with a brief smile.

A slight clearing of the throat, and the older man stepped forward. Absently brushing a hand through his thick beard, he stood a respectable distance from Nathan, making no move either towards him or the empty chair at the table. The sounds of the small cafe seemed to be a deafening roar as he seemed to be searching for the perfect words for the moment.

"... my boy..." he finally said, deep voice carrying despite the whisper. "You have no idea how many times I've envisioned this moment."

Nathan, who'd looked around at the throat-clearing noise, froze. The face was the same as in the picture, and the voice... "Hello," he finally managed, forcing the response out in a voice that sounded a little on the strangled side. He hadn't expected to be recognized that fast. Had expected to have a few minutes to look around and spot Saul first...

He swallowed, then waved an unsteady hand at the empty chair.

Saul hesitated, then pulled out the chair and sat down slowly. "I had a reunion speech already memorized," he admitted, "but seeing you here - actually here... I can't find the words, Nathan. I have so many questions, so many... you look well, son," he added, composing himself. "Your mother would be proud."

The response he'd been trying to formulate died half-formed at Saul's last words, and Nathan found himself struggling for his own composure suddenly, trying to keep his expression level. "I.. I don't really know what to say, either," he said unevenly, the catch in his voice impossible to banish. "After the emails. I'm not sure... I don't know what's going on."

It came out sounding almost like a plea, and Nathan swallowed, shaking his head. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be demanding explanations, answers. He wasn't supposed to be sitting here just waiting... wanting...

Saul folded his hands on the table, looking somber. "I need to know some things, Nathan. I want to know, as much as it pains me to think of it... why? There has not been a day since you vanished that I haven't asked myself why. One day you were there with us, and the next... the next day passed, and then the next week, and still your mother and I waited for word. I want you to know, we didn't stop looking."

The waiter chose that moment to show up with his water. Nathan stared down at it, part of him registering Saul ordering a coffee and refusing a menu for now, too. He probably needed the caffeine, that part of Nathan thought dimly. If he'd just flown in from San Francisco...

The waiter departed, and Nathan swallowed as his father turned his attention back to him, still clearly waiting. "What I remember," he said hoarsely, each word strangely difficult, "isn't... what you do. I think you probably got that much from the emails?" He found himself fighting to keep his expression level again. "I remember attacking you," he said much more softly, knowing that starting at the end was probably not the best way to go about this, but he couldn't face the rest of it yet. "Attacking you and running away. I did... there was a trucker. There were a few of them."

Saul stirred his coffee slowly. "We had arguments, Nathan. What family doesn't? But I'd assumed we lived a good life. It was hard, and I know it frustrated you, but your mother and I always wanted what was best. I can honestly say that I never raised a hand to you, son. That wasn't our way. And I know you never raised a hand or even your voice in anger to me. I hope I never gave you cause."

He sipped at his coffee, then took a few deep breaths to control himself. "I only know very little about what happened to you these last few years, they didn't tell me much. I know your life has been filled with pain. They told me about... your wife and son."

His body language, the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice... nothing to suggest a lie, absolutely nothing, and Nathan gazed back at him in total confusion, utterly lost. He caught himself starting to reach out telepathically - and stopped, his jaw clenching, as Saul mentioned Aliya and Tyler. This wasn't the way, he told himself. Not yet. It was the easy way out, and he was supposed to have learned not to go digging just because it was easier.

"That was... eight years ago," he said weakly. "When I tried to leave. I... hadn't realized that would be part of the briefing." He wanted to ask Saul what else he'd been told. If he knew about the virus. But that was a side issue, and getting caught up in it would be a way to avoid what was really important here.

"I don't... remember enough," he said, his voice breaking. "About Alaska. That's why I'm not... sitting here telling you that you're a liar, or leaving. What I remember is different... worse, but it's patchy. So many holes." His voice was sounding almost hollow, now. "Almost more holes than memories. Which has always made me think that something isn't right, because everything afterward... I remember all of it. It's part of my mutation. The eidetic memory."

"Ah." The simple intonation carried with it tones of intrigue and understanding. "From what I am given to understand, Nathan, and if your mutation is anything like your mother's... I cannot imagine the things they did to you, taking advantage of that. Son, I know that with everything you have been through, you have no reason to put any faith in the things I have to say. You've led the last twenty-five years believing me to be a monster, and I don't know what I can say to change that. Only that what you remember is not what actually happened. I can't prove it to you, I cannot change what was done to you. All I can do is tell you the truth, and hope that you'll believe me."

Nathan looked up at him sharply. "I do remember her," he said shakily. "Making things move around, to make me laugh... that's real, then?" Saul nodded, and Nathan swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I remember Samuel and his family, at the Yu'pik settlement... and the other boys you mentioned." He reached out with a shaking hand for his water. "I even remember the damned wind turbines. It's like some of the details are there, but just..." Warped? From whose perspective?

Saul finally reached out, taking Nathan's hand before he knocked his water from the table. "Her name was, -is- Esther. She was a telepath and a minor telekinetic. She used to scold me for thinking too loud, but she would smile when she did it. Her eyes would light up whenever you'd enter the room, she was so proud of you. We both were." Saul released Nathan's hand, looking his son over critically. "It's a bit sad, I'd almost hoped you'd grow into her features more than mine. I... don't have much to remember her by either. Neither she nor I have ever been much on keepsakes or heirlooms, you might remember that."

Nathan had tried not to flinch as Saul took his hand, but hadn't quite managed it. The brief physical contact gave him a stronger mental impression of his father, though, and again, there was nothing there to suggest that any of this was a lie. No conflicting thoughts reached him, no sense of deception...

"San Francisco," he said unsteadily, trying to find safer ground, "you live in San Francisco now? I was there, after I... after Alaska. For two years." Two years that he remembered perfectly, he wanted to say, but didn't. "That was where I manifested. Got in a fight and the police handed me over to Social Services. Then they sent me to Mistra."

"I moved there after your mother died," Saul explained. "Lost myself in business - I started a data recovery service, Samara, from the ground up. We went public with a stock offering last year. It... doesn't fill the gap. The project, well, it was abandoned in 1990, but your mother and I stayed with the settlement. It was home, as much as it could be without you there, Nathan."

The edge of loneliness, of sorrow to Saul's calm words triggered something in Nathan, a near-overwhelming rush of half-unwilling empathy. And something else. "I'm sorry," he choked out, the pragmatic, suspicious part of his mind roaring in disbelief at the words that were actually coming out of his mouth. "If this is all true, if I don't remember things properly. I know what it's like to lose a child, and it was bad enough knowing he was dead. To go along for years not knowing..."

"I never believed you were dead," Saul immediately replied, voice thick with emotion. "You were too strong for that. All we knew is that you were gone, and we hoped that everything we'd tried to teach you, every value we'd tried to instill, despite perhaps being the reason you left, that they'd serve you well. That you'd be able to weather any storm."

Saul sighed, seeming to retreat into his own body out of a mixture of sorrow and shame. "But all you have been through... everything you have today, son, you fought for on your own. If I had some part in inspiring that, then I can at least have some measure of a father's pride. Regardless, I can be nothing but impressed by what you have made of yourself."

Nathan rested his head in his hands for a moment, struggling with a wash of conflicting emotions. It was like the ground had disappeared from beneath his feet. What happened if the foundation for your whole life wasn't what you thought it was? "I don't know what to say," he said raggedly. "This is so confusing. It would be so much simpler if there weren't so many reasons to believe... but there are too many questions, too many holes. There always have been. And you believe it. I can feel that. I'm a telepath, I'm supposed to be able to tell..."

"Power doesn't mean omniscience, Nathan," Saul said quietly. "Some things you will have to take as a matter of trust. All I can ask is that you give me the opportunity to earn that trust."

Saul quietly produced a sealed envelope, placing it on the table before sliding it over to Nathan. "In there you will find everything I could gather about our family. Names of your great-grandparents, photographs of the settlement, my doctor's physical reports for the last thirty years, as well as the papers your mother wrote. If you..." Saul paused, choked up briefly. "If you find yourself with a family one day, it could be invaluable information."

Nathan's jaw clamped shut on the words that almost came out as Alison's voice murmured ~Nathan, don't you dare,~ over his com. "I... I'll look at it all. Thank you." He reached to take the envelope. "Maybe the pictures will help," he said uncertainly. "Jog my memory a little. I've been..." He stopped, swallowed, then went on. "I've been trying, since those emails, to remember more. I just spent so many years trying to forget what I did remember."

"If I could get my hands on the people who..." Saul didn't try to mask the rage in his voice, large hands clenching and unclenching on the table. Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly, then opened them to look at Nathan apologetically. "I'm sorry. I know I don't have the right. But you can't know how much it hurts, knowing what you went through and all that time, we had no idea. I've spent so long blaming myself, and it appears you've been doing the same."

It took every bit of willpower Nathan had not to actually shrink back in his chair, away from the sudden flash of anger. It brought too many memories back, right or wrong though they might be. But he had himself back under control, more or less, in almost the same moment that Saul did.

~Classic interrogation technique,~ Haroun added over the com. ~He's trying to rattle you.~

He suddenly wished that he hadn't brought them along. Because as much sense as it had made, as good a safety precaution as a large part of him was still able to admit that it was, there was something else there, too. A curious resentment that they were there listening, reminding him that he had to be Cable, not just Nathan.

"I'm trying," he said unsteadily, "not to. Blame myself, I mean. So much, at least... but I have problems with guilt. About a lot of things. Aliya and Tyler, some of the things I did, and didn't do..."

Saul held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm sorry, I was too presumptuous there. I merely..." He stopped, then slowly stood up, placing a card on the table. "This is where I can be reached in San Francisco. On the back is my mobile number. I'd like to... I want to hear from you, Nathan. But I know I don't have the right to ask for that. I haven't had the chance to know my son for the past twenty-five years, but I want the chance for the next twenty-five. It may be too much to ask, but I cannot help but try."

Stepping away from the table, Saul nodded to his son. "It's... it's been good to see you, Nathan."

Nathan nodded in return, almost jerkily. "I'll... I'll call. I will." He reached out and took the card. "Thank you for coming," he made himself say. "It's not... I just want to know," he said, the words coming out sounding almost forlorn. "When you've been lied to and manipulated for so long, the truth gets to be the most important thing of all."

"Then when you ask, I will give it to you," Saul said quietly, barely carrying over the noise of the cafe and the city street. "I only hope you will accept it."

As Nathan and Saul talk, Alison and Haroun keep up their cover at a nearby table and listen in. The back-up is not happy.

Haroun sat at the table across from Alison, holding one of her hands in his own. He adjusted himself in the uncomfortable patio chair so he could keep a clear eye on Nathan's table. When the waiter wandered by, he ordered tea for the two of them and croissants to go with them. "Well, at least we picked a beautiful day, didn't we?" he said with a smile to Alison.

Positively basking in the sun while doing her best to keep any undercurrent of tension utterly non-existent, Alison smiled back at Haroun, leaning forward a touch on the table while stretching out her legs to rest an ankle against his. "That we did," she replied easily, the comm silent despite the open channel - Nathan was still alone at his table. The comm made it easy to not even look in that direction, since it would let them know when someone arrived by simple virtue of overhearing Nathan's greeting. At any other time she'd have been wearing heels just to show off her legs that much more, but today, flat simple tennis shoes it was. They still went well with the short white skirt and sleeveless blouse. "You look as though the chair isn't agreeing with you."

Haroun grimaced. "I think it was made by Torquemada." he said. "Disagrees with my lower back." he added, looking around for the waiter to arrive with their drinks and croissants. "I ordered for us - hope you don't mind." he said pleasantly. "But I can tell you what does agree with me - a sunny day and a gorgeous woman by my side." he said with a smile. "I'll take a thousand uncomfortable chairs if I can have those two things."

She laughed quietly at that, grinning in pleasure at the compliment. "I don't mind at all." She wasn't particularly hungry, but it wouldn't do to just sit there and do nothing, either. "And we'll try to keep it to only one uncomfortable chair for this afternoon, mmm?" The outside tables of the café were transparent, iron wrought bases with glass rested upon to finish the look. It made it easy to see a daring sparrow hop down from a nearby tree to claim a crumb of bread from under a table, before winging off with its prize.

Voices echoed over the comm just then, though neither of them visibly reacted.

Haroun ignored the voice over his comm as well, preferring instead to look casually about the open-air restaurant. Nothing was striking him as suspicious, but with the flow of traffic on the street and the sheer number of patrons it was almost impossible to be sure. "Ah, here we go." he said, reaching for his wallet as the waiter arrived with their pot of tea, two cups, and a bread-basket full of croissants and butter. Fishing in his wallet, Haroun frowned, and then looked over to Alison. "I hate to do this to you, but do you have a five I could borrow until we can reach an ATM later?" he said, cheeks burning just a bit in embarrassment wholly real.

"Of course," was the calm reply. The bill being asked for upon delivery was a bit unusual, but from the look on the waiter's face, Alison guessed this was the end of his shift and leaving ASAP was the plan. Digging a five out of her purse, Alison handed to him with a smile, paying the matter no further attention. Voices threaded over the comm and the pause at the words "Your mother would be proud" as she brought the tea cup to her lips to blow gently at it rather than drink right away was unnoticeable.

Haroun blinked at the words coming over his mastoid-bone mike, but sipped his tea and grabbed a croissant for the buttering. "Not all of us are so fortunate as to be able to ingest waveforms." he said in a low voice. "I didn't have time to get breakfast today. I'm starving." he said with a nervous grin as he buttered his croissant and took the first bite. "These are good." he said with a grin. "Surprisingly so."

"It's not like food, really." Alison blinked, pondering that for a moment while sipping her tea. "It just… gives me an extra boost or something. When I was on overcharge that was something else…" She tried to not grind her teeth at what she was hearing, reaching instead determinedly for a croissant and some butter. "They smell amazing anyway." A few moments later, she was nodding in confirmation. "You're right." It was a good thing she had something to keep her teeth from grinding to dust too, over what she was hearing through the comm.

Haroun gripped Alison's hand tightly. "He's getting played." he said flatly. "You hear it as well as I do, don't you?" He sipped at his tea and took another bite of croissant, nibbling at it neatly. "Unclench your jaw and act natural." he told her in a very low tone of voice, punctuating his words with a tight squeeze of her hand in his. He had a very strong grip.

"Every button is getting pushed." Alison took a deep breath, holding on to his hand as well though not as tightly - it was one way to focus, to keep the tension only in one place. Shoulders easing down, she took another sip of her tea then tilted her head back, eyes closed, letting the sun warm her face for a moment, the flow of conversation going on. She looked at Haroun once more, reaching for her croissant casually. "You'd think he had full access to his psych profile or something," she murmured lower, buttering another piece steadily.

"Who's to say he doesn't? We've assembled a fairly extensive threat database, who's to say that others don't do the same?" he asked idly. "Gah, I'm being paranoid again. Smack me when I do that!" he said, laughing as if it were a jest. "Should have brought a deck of cards." he muttered.

"Couples out in a café don't play cards," Alison informed him gravely, licking a touch of butter from a fingertip, lips quirking a touch. Despite everything else, it was easy to give him a teasing smile, right then. "And I can't believe he said that, he's invalidating everything-" she paused for a moment, editing out a few choice words about what she was overhearing and decided to stay quiet instead, fingertips then playing along Haroun's knuckle as the hand held in his curled in a fist.

"They should." he said, using his grip-strength to flatten her hand from a fist back to an open palm. "Fists don't suit your delicate constitution." he said teasingly. "Leave that to us rough-and-ready sorts. And we're just here to back him up if this deal goes sour. Look at him - relaxed, loose. You'll have a laser drilled through his head before he can move four inches. I'd put money on that, if I had any left." he said reassuringly.

"Wouldn't have used my fists. The chair is another story," she grumbled, then gave him a sheepish look. "And I won't look. Yet. No sense in giving anything away and besides, lovers out on a quiet afternoon for tea and croissants…" She trailed off, rising to her feet to lean over the table, pressing her lips to his cheek - and then hid her face against his shoulder, hissing lowly through the comm. " Nathan, don't you dare."

Haroun couldn't help but grin as she kissed him. After all this time, it still made him smile. They were being scandalous, but this was America where nobody knew the meaning of the word. "Think that got through." he said, whispering into her ear. "And have I told you how much I love scoop-necked blouses?" he said with a mischievous look. "Lovely."

She pulled back a bit, just enough to give him even more reason to appreciate scoop-necked blouses in general, and grinned back briefly. "Mmm. Now I wonder why?" She kissed him lightly once more than sat back down, stretching out her legs lazily one more. The simmering anger at how things were progressing at the other table was stomped down, kept in the background where it belonged.

Haroun laughed. "The mysteries are both subtle and myriad." he said with a grin, polishing off his croissant before reaching for another. "A pity that there's no way I can reciprocate here in this cafe." he said with an amused look into her blue eyes. "You get the most lovely expression when your tongue is hanging out and you walk into doorframes. Who knew t'ai chi had such a stimulating effect upon you?"

"It was only the once," she muttered, wrinkling her nose at him. The teasing and chatter was a good way to keep both their reactions to things well hidden. She heard his subvocalised words to Nathan over the comm and with the anger, there was sympathy as well. Despite how wonderful it might be if all of this were true, Alison found it hard to believe everything Nathan had lived through, thought he remembered was a sham. And how twisted was it, to want this sudden, possibly wonderful event to not be real? With that she nudged her chair around the table, to be closer to Haroun.

"Only once so far." he said with amusement. "I still maintain hope that you will be the bane of doorframes everywhere." he said with a teasingly wicked look. "He's in over his head. Think we should go pull him out?" he said into Alison's ear before kissing it lightly.

"It'd be obvious at this point," she shook her head slightly, though it wasn't saying no - and then the decision was taken out of her hands, Saul rising to his feet, still speaking to Nathan as he did so. "And he's leaving." She took a last sip of tea, forcing herself not to look or glare at the departing man. Instead she rested her head on Haroun's shoulder, sighing a bit as though finally tired of a day out in the city.

"And away he goes." he agreed, sipping at his tea. "This tea takes like sour frog ass." he said, putting his teacup down. "I miss my mint tea. At least the croissants were good. As soon as Nathan exits, we'll do a sweep and then rejoin him back at the rendezvous point." he murmured into her ear like his words were sweet nothings. "And I do like that bra on you."

"I could do with some of your mint tea. When I'm less angry." She leaned against him a bit more, nuzzling his shoulder before flashing him a brief smile. "Sweep and rejoin it is." She rose to her feet slowly at that, then reached out to hold one of this hands, tugging lightly while smiling down at him. "And I should hope you like it." It was easier to focus on the banter now that there was no second conversation going on, while they still had to pretend everything was fine.

Haroun laughed and grinned up at her before standing up himself. "You want to work out a little of that anger later, come find me. I've got a date with multiple laps in the pool." he said with a grin. "You should join me. Pool's very ... comfortable."

(OOC: Big thanks to Nute for socking Saul!)