Ororo and Nathan, late Friday afternoon

[x-cable.livejournal.com]

Ororo stops out at the boathouse to see Nathan after they've all had the chance to rest up a little from the previous night's adventures. They have a very calm and straightforward talk, and then lemonade on the deck.


On sunny days like this one Ororo was especially envious of the office in the boathouse - it was on the water and surrounded by trees - all in all a very calming atmosphere. She wasn't surprised to find the door partially open, for what better way was there to catch the light breeze flitting over the water? She was surprised, however, to enter the office to find Nate sitting at his desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him. "Nathan?" she asked, raising her eyebrows slightly. "Is this a bad time?"

Nathan shook himself a little. "No," he said somewhat vaguely, looking up at Ororo. "Just tired and zoning out a little." He had the office to himself this afternoon, for various reasons, and he just wasn't doing well at getting much in the way of work done. Possibly because he'd slept so phenomenally poorly last night. This morning. Whatever you classed the time he should have spent sleeping, post-mission. "Come in," he said, closing the file he hadn't been looking at anyway. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you," Ororo said gratefully, shaking her head. "I am fine. I came to speak with you, but if this is not a good time, I can easily return later."

"Now's as good a time as any." It wasn't as if he didn't know what she wanted, after all. "Sit down," he said, waving a hand at the remarkably clutter-free couch along the far wall. Ellen before she'd left had created a small sitting area, for "informal roundtables", she'd said. He got up and came over to join her. "Ray's up at the house with Moira, so we've got the place to ourselves."

"This will not take long," Ororo assured him, taking a seat. She waited until he had made himself comfortable before turning to face him, her expression slightly apologetic. "Lorna came to speak with me, and in turn I told her I would talk to you. This is not official, I would like to make that clear."

He smiled a bit faintly. "I knew she was going to talk to you. I suspect it would have been official, if she and I hadn't talked more after we landed." He rubbed at the back of his neck, a sigh escaping.

"A great many things can be resolved by talking," she said, her expression growing more concerned. "I know I do not need to chastize you or ask you to tell me what went wrong on the mission. I am sure you have already thought of that many times over."

"In terms of things going wrong," Nathan said, "in my defense, it could have been a lot worse. I didn't hurt him." He probably deserved to be hurt. "It was a slip," he said a bit stiffly. "I wasn't angry when I did it. It wasn't a loss of control. I thought I had a good reason... and then it felt too good to actually do it," he concluded, somewhat bitterly, as he looked away from Ororo's concerned gaze. "So in other words I was deluding myself, which is possibly the alarming thing."

"Yes, I must agree. It is certainly nothing that would warrant a removal from active duty, or even Mistra-related missions, in my opinion. But it is a point of concern nonetheless." Ororo's voice was gentle, unaccusing.

Nathan looked back at her, his lips twitching briefly and humorlessly. "I've been having a bad 2006," he said. "I think it may be... catching up with me a little, in fits and starts."

"It certainly has seemed to be a stressful year for many people," she agreed. "Now that it is summer I must restrain myself from ordering a mansion-wide vacation for everyone."

"It's maybe a little bit complicated, in my case," Nathan said after a moment, reluctantly. "I've had a couple of major traumas this year." GW, falling out of his chair. Gideon... Nathan blinked away the image of his uncle's face, and very carefully did not think of his father. "That's not a good thing for someone who's had chronic PTSD for... okay, not even going to try and put a date on it." He smiled mirthlessly, but there was an odd edge of desperation to it, too. "I know I'm in trouble when I start reminding myself on a regular basis that I need to keep it together."

"And it is at this point when perhaps you should think of changing something. Going on as you have been can only lead to more stress, and that is something no one wishes for you," Ororo said gently.

"I think I'm going to listen to Jack and go back to two sessions a week," Nathan said with a sigh. "I've been resisting that - it feels like backsliding. But he's right about me needing it, I think. I'm working far too much-" Burying yourself in work, Jack's verdict had been, "-the nightmares are back, nearly every night, and when I'm actually having flashbacks... I really, really could do without an honest-to-God relapse." He tried to smile again and mostly managed it.

"Understandably so," Ororo said, her heart wrenching just a little in sympathy for him. It would almost be a kindness to take him off the team... or would it? "If there is anything I can help with, Nathan, either as a CO or a friend, do not hesitate to ask."

"Just... bear with me," Nathan said after a moment, the smile turning very subdued. "I'm still up to the job, Ororo. I'll know if I'm not, and I swear, I'll take myself off active-duty before I put you or Scott in the position of having to do it."

"Very well, Nathan. I only ask you to think of your teammates as well as Scott and myself... they rely on you as well." That was the only caution she was going to mention, though she meant it wholeheartedly. When even the seasoned members were beginning to question one another, there was trouble.

"I am," Nathan said. "Right now I can still do more to help the team than not. If the equation changes," he said wryly, "I'll reevaluate. I promise."

Ororo smiled and nodded. "Yes, of course, Nathan. I know you will. Thank you."

"It was really good," Nathan said after a moment, "to see all those kids alive and as well as could be expected. Really... really good." After Vermont and Belgium... "I wish I'd told them it would be all right," he said distantly, blinking a bit rapidly. "I wasn't really with it on the flight back."

"I am sure they know," Ororo assured him, thinking back to the return flight. "And what is better, they are being shown that now, thanks to your efforts."

"Are you giving me a pep talk?" Nathan asked, trying to muster up a smile. "I think that sounds like the beginning of a pep talk..."

"You just seemed like you needed to be pepped," 'Ro said, spreading her hands in front of her innocently. "Or perhaps put to bed, but that is not my area of expertise. Perhaps I should consult Moira..."

Nathan leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps you should," he said with a perfectly straight face. "How's Patrick these days, by the way?"

Ororo blinked, obviously unprepared for the change in conversation. "Fine," she managed, looking a bit shy all of a sudden. "He is well, I mean."

That had been rather mean of him. "That's good," Nathan said. "I talked to him a couple of times while he was staying here, after we rescued him. I've never known a clairvoyant before... it's an interesting ability." He rolled his eyes a little. "I won't tell you what he saw when he shook my hand."

"That is fine, I will just ask him," 'Ro said with a growing smile.

He was not going to tease her. He and Moira had agreed that it was too good to see Ororo getting out and having some fun. No teasing. "You know," he said, his eyes straying towards the door, "there's a jug of real lemonade in the fridge - Moira likes it, so I tend to make it every few days in the summer. I know you said you didn't want anything, but maybe you'd reconsider if it involved a glass of lemonade and one of the chairs out on the deck?"

"I would love that, and your company," she replied truthfully, smiling in earnest now as she stood to head out there. "Oh, Patrick didn't happen to see a particularly incriminating flashback involving a bottle of scotch and an ambassador's daughter, did he? Because I may have heard about that..."

Nathan gave her a narrow-eyed look. "Not one of my more successful infiltrations of a formal occasion," he grumbled, rubbing at his wedding ring as he got up. He was smiling a bit, though. "Go pick a chair - I'll get the lemonade."