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[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Moira goes searching for her wayward husband and finds him holed up in his office. She announces that they're going to have a bit of normal in their life in two weeks, the reservations are set. They discuss the state of his office...more like the state of him.



He liked his office. He could hide behind the piles of paperwork, Nathan thought blearily, his aching head pillowed on his folded arms. The laptop sat open and still on beside him, but Wanda's calculated verbal smack upside the head had stomped on his urge to make any more hysterical posts. He would have to thank her for that in the morning.

It was fairly simple to find her husband, Moira mused, opening his office door without bothering to knock. She didn't want to give him a chance to jump out his window or anything. Because he would. He had done that to her once at Muir, years ago, when they had been fighting.

She'd knocked and out he went, rather annoying.

"I've jus' made reservations for a few places in about two weeks," Moira announced, peering over the piles of paperwork at him.

Nathan's head raised, slowly, and he peered back at her. All right, that hadn't been the greeting he'd expected... what was going on? "Reservations?" he asked a bit lamely.

"Reservations," she repeated, forcefully. "For dinner at a verra nice little French resturant. An' reservations for a hotel room. I have other reservations but tha's for a hair cut an' tha's earlier so nothin' for ye ta worry about."

There was a pause.

"Except ye 'ave ta worry 'bout yer own reservation for yer own 'air cut. Which I made."

Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again, gazing at her confusedly. After a moment, he shifted, so that he could rest his chin on his hand. Balance was good when you had a headache like this.

"That sounds... nice," he said, after a moment, and although his voice was hesitant, there was also a certain amount of longing there, too. He gave her a slightly unsteady smile. "And I thought you liked my hair longer..." This was just the tiniest bit surreal, this conversation, after the evening he'd had.

"I do, when 'tis nay tryin' ta eat yer 'ead." Moira gestured with one hand as she leaned on the desk with the other, so she could peer more comfortably at him. "If ye go back ta tha' shaved 'ead thin', I'll be 'avin' words wit' ye, jus' so ye know. I'll also need ta take one o' th' girls out shoppin' for a dress."

"No more buzz cut. Makes me look all... pugnacious and stuff." Nathan gazed up at her for a long moment, unable to keep the upset from creeping into his expression. "Is this a 'let's put our mutual thumb in my father's eye' sort of thing? Because I want to do this... the idea of getting some time alone with you, away from everything, is really, really good. But after tonight..." He swallowed, straightening in his chair.

"Especially after tonight." Shaking her head, she deliberatly started moving his papers away from his desk. Keeping them in the same order, she stacked them elsewhere. "An' nay, 'tis not a thumb in yer father's eye. Nathan, this is about us livin' our lives. I lived in tha' white ivory tower, once, an' I'm nay keen ta go back ta tha'."

"You're excavating my desk," Nathan protested, then stopped, blinking. "My paper tower," he muttered suddenly, then let his head fall to the desk with an audible thump.

"Stop that."

Gently, but firmly, Moira grabbed him by the hair and tugged his head upwards. "Aye, I've jus' removed yer paper tower." She glanced around at the rest of the office and an eyebrow crept up. "'ave they been breedin'?"

"Like rabbits," Nathan said mournfully. "And they mock me." He pointed in sequence to five agglomerations of piles. "That's Africa. That's Asia. That's Asia Junior. That's South America. And that's... I forget what that one is."

She stared at him for a second and then let go of his head, not even wincing when it hit the desk with a small thump. He was being stupid. In fact, there was a large amount of stupid in the room. "I regularly use my assistant ta file paper work, why cannae ye use yers for tha' same reason? I bet he'd be happy ta 'elp!"

"He files! There are filing cabinets under here somewhere..." Nathan muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Ow. Moira, my father blew up my brain, all right? It's not working very well. I'm sure there are filing cabinets around here somewhere. I know I ordered some before Christmas..."

"Aye, I know. 'Tis why I'm talkin' ta ye 'bout meaningless drivel, really. Well, our date isnae meaningless drivel but 'tis nay exactly heavy on the brain."

Glancing around the office showed Moira exactly how bad things had become. Nathan had always been the neater of the two of them and it looked like Ororo had been through on a bad day. She made a noise in the back of her throat.

"I'll 'elp ye an' Angelo sort an' file," she sighed.

"No... you have more than enough of your own work to do." Nathan stared at the piles of papers and books, the maps pinned on every square inch of wall. "I used to have an office," he said. "It was a nice office. Students came in and there was a couch over there... I'm not sure the couch isn't still there, but there were students on it, instead of NGO financial reports..."

"Make tha' yer project?" Moira suggested, perching on the empty corner of his desk. "It'll keep ye busy an' it'll serve a purpose. Aye, an' it was a verra nice office at tha'. I miss it."

"I think... I need a few days off before I start thinking about projects of any sort," Nathan said slowly, then mustered up a very wan smile for her. "I was about to say I am so sleeping in tomorrow morning, but you're not letting me out of that session with Jack, are you? Not after tonight..."

To his surprise, she shook her head. "Ye can reschedule if ye need th' sleep. I, uh, already contacted him, he's free in the afternoon." Maybe she looked the tiniest bit sheepish at that statement. But he had looked so exhausted that the idea of sleeping in had occurred to her hours before.

Nathan blinked suddenly, his eyes stinging, but something, some flicker of common sense or clinginess - and was there really much difference in a situation like this? - had him up out of his chair and over to hug her. "Fuck, what a week this has been," he said raggedly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't even know what to think about what happened tonight... I can't remember some of it." The time after the flashback was hazy.

"I love you," he said, instead of letting his mind pursue that. Turn it off. Just for tonight. Besides, it hurt to think. "A night out sounds great." His voice wobbled a little. "He would have liked to see us doing that. He was needling me about that at Christmas."

The sudden movement had nearly sent Moira off the desk but she managed to right herself and snuggled closer, closing her eyes. "I love ye ta, an' I've been so worried." There was a sigh. "An' he would, he really would. We cannae let yer family rule our lives, even wit' all th' pain they've caused."

Nathan held her close for a long moment, his eyes still shut. Her hair smelled like heather, like always. She was warm and alive and safe, and it was all right to just lose himself in that, the small part of him that was thinking clearly pointed out. Not a bad thing at all.

"I don't know what time it is," he muttered. "Jetlag piled upon jetlag with a healthy dose of singed brain. Can we go to bed?" He raised a slightly unsteady hand and stroked her hair. "I have this mental image of just holding you all night."

"I think I like tha' idea." Tilting her head up, she kissed him gently. "An' it doesnae matter wha' time it 'tis, we can still go ta bed. Rachel's bein' brought back as soon as we get back an' she was makin' th' sleepy fussy noises she makes. So we can all sleep."

"Sleep, and the biggest tylenol in the whole wide world," Nathan said, keeping an arm around her as they headed for the door. "Or a new head. Except no, you nixed that a long time ago. You like the one I have. I remember." He was exhausted and babbling, he knew, and he really was going straight for the medicine cabinet as soon as they got upstairs.

"I do indeed. 'Tis a verra sexy 'ead an' I'd rather ye keep it." Keeping him talking was probably the best thing to do as they navigated the stairs. "All th' stuff I like about it is there...th' eyes, th' mouth, th' chin. Be a shame ta see it all go."

"You're going to give me a swelled head, never mind a new head." He made it up the stairs, but was definitely tilting a little to the left by the time they made it to the sweet. Bella cooed softly from her cage, as if she knew he had a headache, and he let out the air in his lungs on a long sigh. "Home again, home again..."

"An' straight ta bed wit' ye," Moira informed him, steering him straight through the suite to their room. With a gentle shove, she placed him on the bed. "I'll wait for Rachel an' then we all can go ta sleep. How does tha' sound?"

Nathan muttered something that didn't sound like English, all but wilting back against the pillows. "Bring her... in here?" he asked, his words slurring. "All in one room an' bar the dor..."

She wasn't so sure about barring the door but bringing the baby in here, that she could do. "Sure, sweetie. Hang on a second."

With that she ducked out, going towards the sounds of her tired daughter and an equally tired babysitter.