Moira/Marius

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Moira burns not quite the midnight oil as she waits for Marius to get home. When he does, she doesn't lecture, just warns him to be careful. As they decide a quick visit downstairs might not hurt, she sees his worry in a new light.



Moira had very deliberately made herself a cup of coffee that wasn't her special blend. After all these years, it took a lot of caffeine to get her to the point of disrupting her sleep--first lesson learned as a doctor was to sleep anywhere and at any time--but hers was a bit more potent than the average cup. Greatful it was starting to get nicer out, she idly flipped through the book on her lap as she rocked on the porch.

There was no telling when Marius would get home, though if it was too late she had no problems sending people after him. With whoever the attacker was on the loose, there was no sense in disregarding safety.

Marius wandered up the walk, rubbing his forehead. It was only eleven, but pushing himself to make an exact identification with his powers gave him a headache -- something he suspected might have less to do with his actual mutation and more to do with his own mental capacity. Or lack thereof.

. . . Not that he'd thought that.

Spotting him before he spotted her, Moira sighed in relief when he didn't seem to be injured or hurt in anyway. He was, after all, walking on his own power and if something had happened, they'd have gotten a call. Standing up so she could lean over the railing, mug in hand, she gave a small wave.

"Everythin' turn out alright?" she called when he was near enough to see her.

Marius blinked at the unexpected voice, then relaxed. "Matter of opinion," he said, dropping his hand. "On the one hand, nothin' happened. On the other . . . nothin' happened." He shrugged. "Didn't think it'd accomplish much, but . . . I tried, right?" And he would keep trying, he added silently. Even a headache was better than just sitting around and waiting.

"Aye, ye did," Moira responded, reaching behind her to pick up a bottle of asprin. "Figured ye could use this. Was it jus' this one night, Marius, or are ye plannin' on goin' out until this guy is caught?" As neutral as her voice was, it was obvious that she was worried. About him, about Jay and Kyle, about the entire situation.

"Don't know," Marius admitted, accepting the bottle gratefully. He untwisted the top and popped two into his mouth to dry-swallow. "Can't do anything around here, right? Might as well put myself out there. Figure it's the least I can do."

"There's nothin' I can say ta disuade ye, I figure tha' much. An' I know ye've figured out th' fact that he's dangerous, ye're nay stupid. But ye need ta be careful. Ye've a useful power but whatever he's doin' ta people..." She shook her head stubbornly. "We catch 'im, there's a good chance he'll know 'ow ta return th' boys back ta normal. But I dinnae want ye in th' crossfire."

Marius shrugged. "Why not? Got one free pass on it already." He sighed and stuck the bottle in his pocket, shaking his head. "But no, I'm not bein' stupid about it. Not exactly eager to end up in Medlab with my joints workin' backwards again an' that. Just . . . they're my mates, you know?"

"I know an' 'tis why I'm nay threatenin' ta lock ye in th' MedLab, though dinnae think tha' dinnae cross me mind at one point." Moira smiled a little. This was the age that she'd met Sean and look how many years they'd crossed together...okay, that made her feel a little old. "They'll be beatin' ye up enough as it is, wha' wit' ye goin' lookin' for this guy."

"You're talkin' to the one flatmate who consistantly does not get attacked, kidnapped, or otherwise traumatized every time they set foot outside the mansion, remember?" Marius's brief grin faded, replaced by slightly artificial nonchalance. "As for the beating, I'm willin' to take one for the team. Like Jennie, but without the cleavage. Shirt just doesn't hang the same on me."

Moira didn't buy it for a second, not after he'd gone poking around in the city for someone who'd just physically messed up his friends. A good chunk of the time the boy could be as shallow as a container of ice cream left in a fridge near the students, but even after all this time she had trouble seeing how much of it was real and how much was fake. It was why she was thankful she took people at face value until she wanted to reach deeper.

"Ye've nay got th' figure," she agreed. "Do ye want ta see them before bed?"

"Forge at least. Jay and Kyle weren't so much enthusiastic this mornin'. Don't quite blame 'em. Thought about offerin' Kyle some pointers on the dog-boy bit, but . . ." Marius gave a fluid shrug. "Can understand he'd be a bit sensitive. Not really the proper state for company."

"Well, ye can 'elp me fix 'im up a bit ta eat. 'Tis a bit late, but I figure food'll 'elp 'im feel better. Besides, they always like it when ye bring somethin' wit' ye." As he joined her on the porch, Moira was suddenly reminded of a twisted muzzle and fur, and the panic when he first woke up. Out of everyone in the mansion, Marius probably knew the most what the three downstairs were going through. Reaching over, she clasped his shoulder lightly and squeezed gently.

Despite the tension headache the aspirin hadn't yet been able to banish, the boy smiled at her. Of all the people in the mansion, only Moira's touch didn't evoke a physical reaction from his mutation. The brush of normalcy was . . . comforting.

"Why not," Marius said, slipping his arm through hers and motioning to the front door. "When words won't suffice an' you're too young for hard liqour, say it with food."