xp_logs | Nathan and Moira, Tuesday night

With Rachel sleeping peacefully (finally), Nathan and Moira toss around some of the complicated issues involved in a three week-old telepath. The talk is productive, and turns in the end to the standard 'So how was your day, honey?' sort of thing. They agree that they're both workaholics.

Sleeping again. Whee. Nathan closed the nursery door carefully behind him and then went over and flopped on the couch, feeling absolutely no desire to move for the laptop. Or the files. Or hell, the television remote. The quiet was too nice.

The suite door opened and he mustered a smile for Moira as she stepped in, wearing that contented look that meant something had gone well in the lab this evening. "The banshee-child is sound asleep," he said wryly. "Let's not make any noise, okay?"

Shrugging out of her labcoat, taking the time to actually hang it up instead of dropping it where it lay, a soft laugh escaped her. "Oh, I dinnae know, she quieted down pretty darn well when I went in," Moira teased. First stop, the kitchen for some tea. Coffee was up from none but still at one cup a day while she was nursing Rachel. "Ye looked like ye ran through a Danger Room scene."

"She had another fit - at the shielding, I think, given that she quieted right back down and cooed at me when I took her out of the nursery." Nathan gave Moira a mildly harassed look as she puttered around the kitchenette. "I just wish I could figure out why she takes such a violent disliking to it at random moments."

"Well, even though Charles an' ye were shieldin' her in th' womb, for th' most part she was directly linked ta me at times an', through our link, ta ye as well. Now..." Gesturing with the mug as she waited for the water to brew, she shrugged. "Wouldnae ye be a cranky pants if ye were suddenly shoved inta somethin' like tha'?"

Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking frustrated. "I suppose I would. Especially since I would never have been aware there was any other way to see the world... damn it," he concluded, sounding upset. "Here I thought this was protecting her..."

Rolling her eyes slightly, Moira bunched up a tea towel and threw it at his head. "Stop tha'. Right now. I willnae be 'avin' bot' o' ye in a fit. Ye KNOW 'tis th' best thin' for her. I dinnae want ta do it either, but Rachel 'as nay concept o' an off switch. She'll burn herself out." A hint of worry had crept through her words at that.

The teatowel froze in midair and Nathan opened his mouth again - and it hung open for a moment, as a wondering look flickered in his eyes. "I am in a fit," he said after a moment, startled. "Or at least, the residual echoes of a fit... I think. Huh."

"Full sentences, love."

Nathan blinked at her. "Oh... just thinking, especially after last night... I bet our little darling is actually winding me up." He smiled suddenly, ruefully. "Especially last night, when she socked me with my shields down. Was I acting off at all, when you got up here? I don't remember, my head was killing me..."

Frowning, Moira leaned against the wall, thoughts tumbling around in her head. "Aye, ye were at tha'. A wee bit spacy...more so than usual..." Grinning, she ducked the tea towel. "I wonder...telepath's, th' trained ones anyway, are taught tha' unless invited another telepath in their 'ead is trespassin'. Wha's yer first thought ta do when someone's trespassin'?"

"Push them back out," Nathan said, then looked briefly aghast. "But I didn't do that to Rachel, Moira. I wouldn't."

"I'm nay sayin' ye would," she soothed, pulling the kettle off the stove before going over to curl up against him. "I'm sayin' maybe because ye dinnae, ye know who she is without evenin' thinkin 'bout it, it sent ye inta a bit of a tiff, mentally speakin'. Ye've got instincts ingrade deep, Nathan."

"Complicated," Nathan murmured quizzically, shaking his head a little as he slid an arm around her. "We'll have to talk to Charles about it. I don't want any missteps on my part telepathically speaking..."

"Talkin' ta Charles is always good," was the agreement. Leaning her head against him, she hrmed. "Tha' would explain why our wee darlin' wit' lungs tha' put 'er up wit' Sean an' Terry got even worse when ye went ta sooth her."

Nathan laughed suddenly - if softly. "You should have seen Terry with her. Yesterday and Sunday. I think there's some definite bonding going on there."

"Oh Lord, there's trouble in th' makin'," Moira snickered softly.

"Rachel is... a pretty remarkable barometer, you know," Nathan said thoughtfully, after a moment. "When Terry came in on Sunday she was obviously a little pensive, and Rachel fussed a bit. But then Terry made a concerted effort to cheer up and Rachel obviously picked up on that, too..."

"'ere, ye look depressed, play wit' th' baby' should be our call sign."

"A therapy-baby to go along with the therapy-bird?" Nathan suggested mischievously. "Could work, you know. We could charge by the hour."

"Make a tidy sum off o' tha'," Moira returned with a grin.

"Just what either of us need. More money. You especially." Nathan kissed the top of her head. "Good day in the lab, I'm sensing?"

"Mmm, aye. Introducin' Paige ta me personal experiments before I bring 'er inta th' fold wit' Muir's Official what 'ave ye's. Probably in a few days. Curt was most pleased wit' her durin' th conference."

"I imagine the two of you are going to have entirely too much fun down there," Nathan said with a chuckle. "And the days you have Rachel down in the adjoining office you can indoctrinate her into the ranks of Science Geekdom, while the days I have her up here, I can teach her the beauty of the liberal arts. We'll see who wins." Moira poked him in his still tender ribs and he laughed. "Ow."

"Who knows, maybe she'll be well balanced. Or maybe I'll cheat."

"I had Angelo up here earlier," Nathan said, his eyes straying back towards the laptop and pile of files. "I definitely need to take a step back from some of this stuff and try to come up with a better plan of attack. There's just too much information."

"Well, there ARE only two o' ye," Moira pointed out, dryly. "Wit' th' sheer amount o' information, yer goin' ta need someone ta 'elp ye sort an' process it." There was a pause. "Who, besides me, can ye bribe inta tha' role?"

"I don't know," Nathan temporized. "Again with the talking to Charles... there has to be some way to utilize preexisting structures better." Aware that he was wandering over into the land of sounding odd and somewhat addled, he gave her a sheepish grin. "You'd think I'd be satisfied with two jobs, but no. Your fault. I'm trying to live up to your example of workaholicness."

Putting a hand on her chest, Moira feigned a hurt look. "Me, a workaholic? Whatever gave ye th'...was tha' me phone? Let me get that." Laughing as she allowed Nathan to pull her, gently, back to the couch as she went to get up, she shot him a look. "What?"

"Nothing," Nathan said, a tiny, contented smile tugging at his lips as he wrapped both arms around her. "You and I are going to be just fine with this," he said, and hoped it didn't sound like he was trying to convince himself. "Juggling jobs and raising a healthy and well-adjusted banshee-child..."

"Aye, we will," and there was no sign of doubt in her voice, just the simple knowledge that they could weather anything. "If ye can survive a coatrack travelin' at th' speed o' light, we'll get through just about anythin'."

Nathan nearly burst out laughing, and only remembering that he didn't want to wake Rachel up stopped him. "Near-ballistic speeds. Thank you very much."

"Close enough," she teased. "Come on, let's get dinner started, aye?"