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xp_logsMoira and Nathan go out for one of their all-too-infrequent 'dates'. Jim's volunteered to babysit. Moira picks a rather daring dress. Nate expresses his heartfelt husbandly appreciation. Jim chooses that moment to walk in. Jim's brain goes 'snap'. Rachel laughs. Nate and Moira have the decency to wait until they're out of the room to do the same.
Moira stared at her husband in amusement. "If ye fussin' over Rachel wasnae so cute," she informed him, putting in an earring as she talked, "it would be scary. But 'tis mostly cute." The house actually lent itself to being able to get ready and keep an eye on the baby, something that she hadn't been expecting, meaning she was ready to go before they actually had to leave.
"It's preventative medicine," Nathan said, making horrible faces at Rachel, who giggled and waved her hands madly at him from the floor. "I'm getting her in a really, really good mood so that she'll be good for Jim tonight."
"Ye better nay 'ave been lettin' 'er chew on yer tie," Moira responded, leaning over to brush a kiss against the top of her head and make her own faces at Rachel. Using daddy's head as a back drop, of course. "An' she likes Jim well enough, dinnae ye think?"
"Likes Jim? She flirts with Jim. That's why I'm getting her in a good mood," Nathan said amiably. "Because when he tells her he prefers his women not in diapers she gets cranky." Rachel squealed, big gray eyes sparkling as if she were appreciating her father's joke.
"Aye, our wee little sprite is goin' ta 'ave ta beat th' boys off wit' a stick when th' time comes." Moira and Nathan exchanged a look. "Which isnae for a lon', lon' time," she soothed him with a laugh.
Nathan snorted at her and stood up, leaving Rachel sitting happily on the floor. "You like to torment me with the thought, don't you?" he asked, taking a step closer to Moira and sliding his arms around her. "Sadist. Although you're a sadist in a very nice dress, I have to admit..."
"Aye, isnae tha' why ye married me? Because I'm a sadist wit' verra good tastes in clothin'?" Grinning, she peeked down at their daughter who was currently paying more attention to her toes than to them. Leaning into Nathan, she raised her head for what was really supposed to be a quicker kiss than what it was.
It struck Nathan that possibly they shouldn't be doing this in front of Rachel, but on the other hand, she didn't seem to be paying attention. And he did really, really approve of the dress. And the hairstyle. And, actually, everything about Moira. #We are still such the newlyweds at times,# he sent teasingly down the link.
Jim let himself into the boathouse without much of a thought; the lower level with was open to the general public, at least, and he could sense three psiprints in the nursery. As he came through the open door he was already sending his thoughts ahead of him, reaching out in telepathic greeting to Rachel.
#Hey, sweetie. Are your teeth feeling any-- ACK.#
In his head, Jim knew Nathan and Moira were married. He'd even had a generalized knowledge of what that implied given the undeniable existence of Rachel. He just hadn't ever expected to actually walk in on a free and open expression of marital bliss which just so happened to include his surrogate mother-figure in a dress with that particular hemline and one of his best friends very obviously taking advantage of it.
GAH my eyes my brain my therapy AHHHH!
It took a great deal of control not to have screamed and jumped back since she hadn't expected that sudden of an arrival at all. Moira's mouth twitched just slightly, though, as she caught Jim flailing backwards.
"Jim," Nathan said, his arms still around Moira and his lips twitching, just as hers were. "Knocking isn't such a bad idea, you know..." On the floor, Rachel giggled and waved her hands.
For a long time Jim had barely been able to sense his youngest alter -- it was a dissociation so profound it sometimes bordered on painful, and a major setback in reknitting his damaged psyche. Any kind of interaction at all was a significant step forward. Still, Jim thought as wrenched his eyes down to the floor, he would really have preferred Davey's first direct input in years to be something other than Ew ew groping mommy tongue EW!
"Sorry," Jim managed, feeling the blood that had just evacuated his face return in force, "I'm sorry, I should have knocked, I just . . . sorry!" Oh god Charles please tell me there's such a thing as psychic bleach.
If he didn't die on the spot, Moira thought, stepping back from Nathan's arms so she could scoop Rachel up off the floor, this would be hysterical. "It's all right," she said, obvious laughter ringing in her voice.
"Yes, it is," Nathan seconded, still smiling. "Seriously. Look, Rachel says it's okay." Rachel was waving her hands at Jim, clearly trying to get his attention as she let out little pleased squeaks intermittently.
Oh no it's not! "Um." Jim blinked numbly at Rachel's big grey eyes. Between Daddy at a bar and Mommy making out with Nathan he wondered if he was ever going to see Davey again. #Sorry, Ray,# he sent vaguely at the infant, #David is having a complete reality-failure right now. Try back later.#
After all these years, Moira clearly recognized cope failure in all it's forms. "I think we'll be leavin' shortly then," she said, grinning at Nathan over Rachel's head, "before we do any more damage than we've already done, aye?"
"Strategic retreat. Sounds like a great idea. I'll go get the car," Nathan said cheerfully, kissing his daughter before he stepped around Jim and left the boathouse before any of the laughter could actually escape.
And now they were alone. Jim was sure there had been more mortifying moments in his life, but right now he honestly couldn't remember any of them. "So, um." There was definitely whimpering in his brain, and Jim was reasonably sure his inner ten-year-old wasn't the only one it was coming from. "I'll just . . . take Rachel then. So you can go, um. Out. With your husband. Nathan." Why does saying it aloud really not help even a little?
"Aye, jus' a fun night out." Really, it wouldn't do to laugh at him because it would only make the situation that more awkward for him. But she might start turning purple pretty soon if she didn't. Clearning her throat, she held Rachel out to him, "'ere ye go, she's been pretty active so she'll probably go ta sleep pretty soon."
"Sleep is good." Jim accepted the baby somewhat mechanically, mismatched eyes staring fixedly at the happy spitbubbles she was making. Yes. Good. Sleeping baby brain will wash away the badness. Please god yes. "Um. Have a good . . . date." Ow.
Kissing Rachel on the cheek, Moira gave Jim the most innocent look she could. "We'll talk tomorrow, aye?" she murmured, kissing him on the cheek as well. It was all she could do to wait until she was outside to start laughing.
After a blank moment Jim settled himself into the nursery chair, Rachel cradled in his arms. "Therapy," he muttered as the little girl squealed up at him in delight. "So, so much therapy."
Moira stared at her husband in amusement. "If ye fussin' over Rachel wasnae so cute," she informed him, putting in an earring as she talked, "it would be scary. But 'tis mostly cute." The house actually lent itself to being able to get ready and keep an eye on the baby, something that she hadn't been expecting, meaning she was ready to go before they actually had to leave.
"It's preventative medicine," Nathan said, making horrible faces at Rachel, who giggled and waved her hands madly at him from the floor. "I'm getting her in a really, really good mood so that she'll be good for Jim tonight."
"Ye better nay 'ave been lettin' 'er chew on yer tie," Moira responded, leaning over to brush a kiss against the top of her head and make her own faces at Rachel. Using daddy's head as a back drop, of course. "An' she likes Jim well enough, dinnae ye think?"
"Likes Jim? She flirts with Jim. That's why I'm getting her in a good mood," Nathan said amiably. "Because when he tells her he prefers his women not in diapers she gets cranky." Rachel squealed, big gray eyes sparkling as if she were appreciating her father's joke.
"Aye, our wee little sprite is goin' ta 'ave ta beat th' boys off wit' a stick when th' time comes." Moira and Nathan exchanged a look. "Which isnae for a lon', lon' time," she soothed him with a laugh.
Nathan snorted at her and stood up, leaving Rachel sitting happily on the floor. "You like to torment me with the thought, don't you?" he asked, taking a step closer to Moira and sliding his arms around her. "Sadist. Although you're a sadist in a very nice dress, I have to admit..."
"Aye, isnae tha' why ye married me? Because I'm a sadist wit' verra good tastes in clothin'?" Grinning, she peeked down at their daughter who was currently paying more attention to her toes than to them. Leaning into Nathan, she raised her head for what was really supposed to be a quicker kiss than what it was.
It struck Nathan that possibly they shouldn't be doing this in front of Rachel, but on the other hand, she didn't seem to be paying attention. And he did really, really approve of the dress. And the hairstyle. And, actually, everything about Moira. #We are still such the newlyweds at times,# he sent teasingly down the link.
Jim let himself into the boathouse without much of a thought; the lower level with was open to the general public, at least, and he could sense three psiprints in the nursery. As he came through the open door he was already sending his thoughts ahead of him, reaching out in telepathic greeting to Rachel.
#Hey, sweetie. Are your teeth feeling any-- ACK.#
In his head, Jim knew Nathan and Moira were married. He'd even had a generalized knowledge of what that implied given the undeniable existence of Rachel. He just hadn't ever expected to actually walk in on a free and open expression of marital bliss which just so happened to include his surrogate mother-figure in a dress with that particular hemline and one of his best friends very obviously taking advantage of it.
GAH my eyes my brain my therapy AHHHH!
It took a great deal of control not to have screamed and jumped back since she hadn't expected that sudden of an arrival at all. Moira's mouth twitched just slightly, though, as she caught Jim flailing backwards.
"Jim," Nathan said, his arms still around Moira and his lips twitching, just as hers were. "Knocking isn't such a bad idea, you know..." On the floor, Rachel giggled and waved her hands.
For a long time Jim had barely been able to sense his youngest alter -- it was a dissociation so profound it sometimes bordered on painful, and a major setback in reknitting his damaged psyche. Any kind of interaction at all was a significant step forward. Still, Jim thought as wrenched his eyes down to the floor, he would really have preferred Davey's first direct input in years to be something other than Ew ew groping mommy tongue EW!
"Sorry," Jim managed, feeling the blood that had just evacuated his face return in force, "I'm sorry, I should have knocked, I just . . . sorry!" Oh god Charles please tell me there's such a thing as psychic bleach.
If he didn't die on the spot, Moira thought, stepping back from Nathan's arms so she could scoop Rachel up off the floor, this would be hysterical. "It's all right," she said, obvious laughter ringing in her voice.
"Yes, it is," Nathan seconded, still smiling. "Seriously. Look, Rachel says it's okay." Rachel was waving her hands at Jim, clearly trying to get his attention as she let out little pleased squeaks intermittently.
Oh no it's not! "Um." Jim blinked numbly at Rachel's big grey eyes. Between Daddy at a bar and Mommy making out with Nathan he wondered if he was ever going to see Davey again. #Sorry, Ray,# he sent vaguely at the infant, #David is having a complete reality-failure right now. Try back later.#
After all these years, Moira clearly recognized cope failure in all it's forms. "I think we'll be leavin' shortly then," she said, grinning at Nathan over Rachel's head, "before we do any more damage than we've already done, aye?"
"Strategic retreat. Sounds like a great idea. I'll go get the car," Nathan said cheerfully, kissing his daughter before he stepped around Jim and left the boathouse before any of the laughter could actually escape.
And now they were alone. Jim was sure there had been more mortifying moments in his life, but right now he honestly couldn't remember any of them. "So, um." There was definitely whimpering in his brain, and Jim was reasonably sure his inner ten-year-old wasn't the only one it was coming from. "I'll just . . . take Rachel then. So you can go, um. Out. With your husband. Nathan." Why does saying it aloud really not help even a little?
"Aye, jus' a fun night out." Really, it wouldn't do to laugh at him because it would only make the situation that more awkward for him. But she might start turning purple pretty soon if she didn't. Clearning her throat, she held Rachel out to him, "'ere ye go, she's been pretty active so she'll probably go ta sleep pretty soon."
"Sleep is good." Jim accepted the baby somewhat mechanically, mismatched eyes staring fixedly at the happy spitbubbles she was making. Yes. Good. Sleeping baby brain will wash away the badness. Please god yes. "Um. Have a good . . . date." Ow.
Kissing Rachel on the cheek, Moira gave Jim the most innocent look she could. "We'll talk tomorrow, aye?" she murmured, kissing him on the cheek as well. It was all she could do to wait until she was outside to start laughing.
After a blank moment Jim settled himself into the nursery chair, Rachel cradled in his arms. "Therapy," he muttered as the little girl squealed up at him in delight. "So, so much therapy."
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