Nathan, Moira, and baby - Monday afternoon

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Baby Kinross chooses a unique method of announcing 'Hey, world! Guess who's telepathic!' Moira yells for the husband whose fault it all is, and Nathan finds out that yes, the baby is indeed quite telepathic and has interesting musical tastes.


Humming, in the back of her mind. Cheerful, if soft humming, accompanied by a sense of great enjoyment and enthusiasm. It wasn't quite in tune, at first, but got better as it continued.

Moira paused in writing down some notes and tilted her head just slightly. She was pretty much off of active medical duty until after the baby--they still had not decided on a name--was born, but office work and experiments were still a go.

The humming in the back of her didn't sound like Nathan and it wasn't something that was just stuck in her head. And while it was humming, per say, it was more percussion humming--more of a beat--but clearly understandable. In fact, she'd been humming that this morning...

#Duh-duh duh duh duh duh DUH duh-duh!# There was a definite triumphant edge to the humming. And the pattern was distinct.

In fact, it was the Marsellaise.

The pen Moira was holding clattered out of her fingers as her eyes widened. Carefully, hesitantly, she hummed something else in the back of her head and waited.

#?!?!?!# was the wordless, oddly delighted reply. #!!!!!! Duh duh duh DUH duh-duh duh!#

Equally as careful, Moira aimed her thoughts directly at the link between her and her soon to be dead husband, so as not to leak towards...well...towards the baby.

#NATHAN CHRISTOPHER DAYSPRING! YER DAUGHTER IS SINGIN' AT ME!!!!#

#... she's WHAT?# was the incredulous response, and a flash of images that corresponded to papers being thrown aside and Nathan's office being exited at speed. It took him just over ninety seconds to get down one floor and to Moira's office, and hence, he arrived somewhat out of breath. "She's what?" he repeated, wheezing a little as he came through the door and knelt immediately beside Moira's chair. "Singing?"

#Duh-duh duh duh duh duh-duh duh-duh,# the presence bubbled happily.

"She's singing the MARSELLAISE?" Nathan took a deep breath, and told himself that hysteria was not productive. "Why is she singing the Marsellaise?"

"I was singin' it earlier!" she squeaked, hands wrapping protectively around her stomach as the baby continued to burble on. It wasn't words at all, just percussion like humming. "An' she projected at me!"

Moira glanced at Nathan as the color faded a bit. "...telepat'?"

Nathan opened his mouth and then closed it again. He laid a hand on Moira's stomach, jumping as he got a little kick in response. But the humming kept going, and he swallowed. "Um, yeah. Because that's not you, or me, and it's very definitely being projected to both of us..."

#?!?! DUH-DUH DUH!#

Nathan bit his lip, and then projected something back, humming the opening bars of Beethoven's Fifth. There was an exuberant bubble of wordless thoughts and then the rhythm was echoed right back at him.

#Duh-duh duh DUH. Duh-duh duh DUH!#

"Oh dear God. Well, she's most certainly _yers_." Really, she should have known. Telekinetics were often times telepaths as well and since the first one manifested in the womb, it shouldn't have been that much more of a surprise.

But it still was one hell of a shock.

"Does she sound...I dinnae know...smug?" Moira wondered a bit weakly.

Nathan reached out tentatively to that bright, fuzzy tangle of not-quite thoughts. #Hey there, munchkin,# he projected, along with impressions of warmth and love and protection.

#??? !!!# The warmth that came rather back at him was sudden and overwhelming, and he immediately drew Moira in to share it.

Moira gasped and clutched at her stomach as the baby decided that kicking--hard--was also a rather good way of communicating. Blinking back tears, knowing she'd never felt ANYTHING else like that before, she took a deep breath.

#!!!!!# was projected quite clearly to the both of them.

Nathan sighed a bit shakily and rose, leaning back against her desk. "All right. Once we're both a little bit more collected, we head up to see Charles?" He reached out and laid a hand over Moira's where it was resting on her stomach. "But she's happy, Moira. You can feel it as well as I can. I mean, I'm getting the sense that she wants out..." He blinked, staring at Moira's stomach. "Things are getting cramped in there and she wants to be able to move."

"Can ye blame 'er? I can only grow so large." Turning her hand up so she can grip his fingers, she nodded. "Seein' Charles is a verra good idea. We're goin' ta 'ave so much ta deal wit' when she's born. On TOP o' th' normal baby thin's."

"Shielding the nursery." Nathan blinked. "I'll email Hank and Forge. And Cain. Once we see Charles." He gave another wobbly sigh, squeezing her hand gently. "Charles can help us pin down the scope of her telepathy so far. Hopefully it's the same as her TK and will develop slowly. Give us time to make it as easier on her as possible." He bit his lip. "And we can't kept calling her 'her'. Not if she's actually hearing us."

"Aye, she really does need a name, an' soon," Moira replied, running her other hand gently over her stomach in a soothing fashion. "An' I wonder if she'll discover th' link soon...? It's shared between us but she's in a position ta potentially tap inta it, ye think? Any ideas on a name?"

"The link... we'll have to ask Charles, but if she's starting to reach out and it's right there, I wouldn't be surprised." Nathan gave her a long, searching look, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I know," he started slowly, "that you haven't been all that comfortable with me knowing more about her than I really should at this point... but I know what her name was in my visions of her." He shrugged a little. "Whether you actually want to know that or not, I'm not sure... I've been trying to be noncommittal because I haven't wanted to make it a self-fulfilling prophecy. I didn't know how you'd feel about that."

Moira scrunched up her face just a little. She still wasn't sure how she felt on the matter. Nathan's precog abilities had been just fine when they were reaching and seeing into a future that was not identifiable as theirs. It was a little unsettling that it seemed to be changing parameters, especially now.

"What was it?" she asked slowly.

"Remember," Nathan said quietly, catching the unspoken comment. "I was tapping into Angie's precog at the time. Those damned brownies..." At least he hoped that what he'd seen of his daughter was only from Angie's precog. If he had seen her, given that he didn't see personal futures...

He shrugged a little again, uneasily, and then bit the proverbial bullet.

"Rachel."

"'Tis still a wee bit worryin'," was Moira's response before focusing on the name. "Rachel". While there was some part of her still concerned about the precog vision angle of it all, the rest of her rather liked it.

And if Nathan had felt he had bitten the bullet, then Moira was certainly about to bite a bigger one.

#...Rachel?#

Nothing, for a moment. Then... #??#

#Rachel,# Nathan repeated more softly.

#??# Golden bubbles, a distinct sensation of curiosity.

If she repeated the name back at him, he was going to be profoundly disturbed, Nathan decided. "Well, I don't think she dislikes it," he said, oddly reassured. "I don't think she knows what it means. Then again, she shouldn't, and the fact that she doesn't makes me feel better..." He looked a bit sheepishly at Moira. "Kind of perverse, I know."

"I probably look jus' as relieved," Moira said, smiling back at him. "She's goin' ta pick thin's up fast but considerin' tests done on babies in th' womb, it would be...creepy if she knew words. Nay developed enough yet." She winced as the baby...Rachel, kicked her again. "Bloody hell, ow."

Nathan touched the spot where the kick had just been rather blatantly obvious. "Settle down, sweetie. No beating up on Mom." He projected the hummed first strains of a Mozart sonata at her, and a huge smile broke over his face, almost involuntarily, as she repeated the rhythm of it back at him. And there was perhaps slightly more tone there than there had been the last time, too. He shook his head wonderingly. "She's going to learn fast, I think."

"I think she takes great joy in doin' that," Moira muttered, rubbing her stomach gently. "She's goin' ta be a terror, tha's wha's she's goin' ta be." Despite her words, there was a soft smile on her lips and a look on her face that spoke of love and protectiveness all at once.

She shot Nathan an amused look. "She'll probably take after her Da."

Nathan smiled, then bent over and kissed her. "Come on," he said, taking her hands. "Let's take the holy terror and go see Charles. Although I wouldn't bet against the possibility that he's been keeping an eye out all along..."

"Probably. I swear ta God, I really am goin' ta shove him inta th' lake one o' these days." There was a burble of amusement and Moira quirked an eyebrow. "Well, she's got me sense o' humor."