xp_logs | Scott and Sam, Sunday morning

Sam catches Scott before he heads down to have lemonade with Moira and the baby and broaches the subject of stepping back up to the plate as Scott's XO. Scott is somewhat on the growly and suspicious side, but doesn't hesitate to give Sam another chance - after a pointed reminder of a certain cliche about 'three strikes'.

This was getting to be far too much of a habit. Sam fidgeted as he raised his hand to knock on Scott's suite door. One of these days Scott was going to get well and truly pissed with him for having his head up his ass so much. Pausing for a moment, Sam took a deep breath to attempt to calm down. No sense borrowing trouble, and besides, he'd done too much moping around for quite a while. Time to suck it up and be a man about things. He rather supposed he had Dom to thank for setting him back on the path, he thought with a wry smile. Knocking firmly, he waited for a reply.

Scott had decided to stop to shower and change before joining Moira on the porch. He somehow thought the baby would disapprove of a sweaty, disheveled visitor who'd been up half the night in the hangar. The knock came just as he was looking for a clean shirt, and Scott glanced sideways at the door. "Come in."

Sam entered promptly, a neutral look on his face. Just because he wasn't borrowing trouble didn't mean he should be grinning like some fool, after all. "Hello, Scott," he said. "Got a few to talk?"

He wanted to go play with the baby, damn it, part of Scott thought crankily. "Well, you know what I say about my door," he said instead, continuing to search for a shirt. He finally dug up an Institute sweatshirt and pulled it on, wincing as his still-sore shoulder protested.

The amount of time being Scott's XO (Sam covered a wince at the thought) had taught him how to read a fair number of Scott's expressions. And that one was definitely his cranky face. Sam covered a sigh. This wasn't going to be easy. But the important stuff rarely was. "Ah wanted ta talk to ya about gettin' back onto duty with the team," he said, deciding that pussyfooting around the subject wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"Oh? Resolved the 'stuff'?" Sam hadn't been all that forthcoming about why he'd scaled back on his team activities. Oh, Scott could make some educated guesses and really, he supposed that part of the problem had been that Sam hadn't really understood it himself, but still.

"Yes," Sam said. "An' Ah s'pose it'd be more accurate to say 'got your head out of your ass yet?'" There was a slight note of bitterness and self-mockery that he couldn't keep out, but he'd already come to the conclusion that moping wasn't going to solve anything, so all that was left was to own up to his mistakes and do his best to fix them.

"I'm having deja vu here, Sam." And not being fair at all - or was he? This kept happening, and while admittedly, maybe it was better that Sam knew when to back off before he landed in the medlab the victim of drugged coffee, Scott did not like feeling like he didn't have an XO half the time. Especially not when he looked at Ororo and Kurt, or Alison and Haroun, and how close and productive their working relationships were.

"Ah know the feelin', Scott," Sam replied. And he supposed he was doing better, because the last time they'd had this talk, Scott had practically had to beat him over the head to call him 'Scott' and not 'sir', as he recalled. "Ah ain't been much of an XO for some time now," he admitted, "an' Ah wouldn't blame ya if ya wanted someone a little more reliable. Hell, Ah noticed Cain was actin' XO for that mission to Utah. Ya could do a lot worse," he said honestly. "Cain's good people." He took a deep breath. "Mostly, Ah just want ta get back ta doin' the right thing an' helpin' people instead of sittin' on the sidelines mopin' away because Ah've got my priorities all screwed up."

Irritability levels rising. Scott tried not to growl as he went over to the dresser, closing his eyes as he slid off the goggles he'd been wearing in the shower. "I swear I could kick your ass," he said, reaching out for where he knew the glasses were sitting. "Do you want to be my XO, Sam?"

He could hear that barely-restrained growl. Tread carefully, Sammy-boy, he told himself. "Yes," he said simply. "Ah was just tryin' ta explain that Ah wanted ta get back ta bein' team again, regardless of position." He grinned. "An' besides, Ah imagine Ah'll be takin' a few lumps as down payment on gettin' back into the swing of things no matter what ya decide."

"Yes," Scott said sarcastically, slipping on the glasses. "Because I do generally go for the 'beating teammates' method of registering annoyance. You're confusing me with someone else. I just brew up sadistic DR scenarios."

Sam chuckled. "Ah didn't say that ya were necessarily gonna issue those lumps with your own two hands. Ah count sadistic Danger Room scenarios as lumpin' me plenty, too."

Scott took a deep breath and then let it out, trying to will some of the tension to go with it. If he didn't think that showing anger would just result in Sam standing there and taking it... "I don't know what to say, Sam," he finally muttered. "I mean, you get another chance, because we all get another chance, but I'm tired of not being able to rely on you."

"Ah'm tired of not bein' reliable, myself," Sam said honestly. "Mah daddy raised me better than this, ta be shirkin' mah responsibilities every time Ah get mah head on backwards over a woman or somethin'. Ah promise ya. No more goin' MIA as your XO. 'Less Ah'm injured an' in the Medlab, an' even then Ah'll be available ta talk to about anythin' ya might need ta bounce offa me. Fair?"

"Fair," Scott said, turning to look at him. "So what you're saying is that you're all the way back, then? I can call on you for missions without having to leave you in the plane when we land?" Okay, so he was stinging a little about Rio, still.

"That's your call," Sam replied. "If'n ya feel like Ah need ta jump through any hoops for ya, Ah'll get ta jumpin'. But if you're satisfied, then yeah, Ah'm back all the way."

"You didn't drop everything," Scott said grudgingly, after a moment, "you just scaled back. And you haven't been doing that for long enough to have an appreciable effect on your level of readiness. I'll put you back in the training rotation properly and consider you on-call again. And," he said, a bit acidly, "if you could see your way clear to picking up some of your XO's duties again without me having to specifically direct you to do so, I wouldn't complain."

"Yessir," Sam replied, sketching a salute. "How about Ah get started on those right now, an' you go do whatever it is ya were plannin' on before Ah interrupted ya. So long as it ain't work-related, leastaways." Sam smiled. He deserved the acid in Scott's tone, he knew, because the good lord knew Scott had a tendency to overdo it with just his _own_ work load. But he was bound and determined to be a man and fix his mistakes without dwelling on them.

"Feel free," Scott said with a certain amount of dignity. "I am going to go have lemonade with Moira and play with the baby."

"Sounds like a plan whose time has come," Sam replied with a wide grin. "Ah'll get out of your hair, then." He paused at the doorway and turned back, a slightly more serious look on his face. "Thank you, Scott," he said simply and sincerely.

"Just... stick to it, this time," Scott said, unable to keep the edge of frustration out of his tone. "This is the second time we've had this conversation, Sam. A third, and the result is not going to be something that either of us will be happy with."

Sam nodded. "Ah don't ever plan on givin' ya cause for a third go'round," he said. "Ah wasn't even sure Ah'd get another chance," he admitted, "an' Ah was prepared to beg just to be pilot and low man on the totem pole. So trust me, Ah ain't screwin' it up this time."

"Yeah, but if I busted you down to our equivalent of private, I'd have to go breaking in a whole new XO, wouldn't I?" Scott asked. It was a joke... mostly.

Sam shrugged. "Your prerogative as CO, an' Ah don't know that Ah'd've blamed ya." He shrugged again. "But that's enough chewin' over old hash," he said. "You go on an' visit baby Ray, an' Ah'll go inspect the pile of paperwork that needs doin'."

This would be a good test, Scott thought a bit perversely. See what paperwork Sam picked to do... "All right. Moira's expecting me, anyway. I think I'm getting brained with the lemonade pitcher."

Sam nodded. "Then don't be keepin' her waitin'. Ah'll manage just fine on my own." He smiled one last time, and then closed the door behind him.