Nathan and Rachel, Friday night
Sep. 29th, 2006 09:55 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsJust a moment in the boathouse.
"Stop poking my nose, Ray."
His daughter giggled, and Nathan rolled his eyes at her. He had made the mistake of lying down on the couch after dinner, only to wake up to find a (growing) toddler sitting on him and prodding his face experimentally every few seconds, as if expecting it to somehow change. Rachel seemed entirely unrepentant about it, too.
She tried it again, and he reached out and grabbed her hand with a sly, if weary grin. The counterattack elicited an indignant squeak as she tried to pull back, levitating a few inches into the air as she yanked. "Bad!" she pronounced thunderously; one of her newest words, and a distinct favorite. (Along with 'yes!', usually as a direct response to 'no!'.)
"That's me. Bad Dad."
Rachel grinned hugely at him, her pique forgotten, and floated back down, promptly snuggling. "Da," she pronounced happily, her little hands plucking at his shirt. Nathan chuckled softly and slipped an arm around her. He reached out and touched her mind, which was largely peaceful at the moment, with a fading spark or two of mischief.
"Dad's had a long few days, kiddo. You're not going to make me chase you around all week, are you?"
"Mmmm."
That had sounded almost considering, and Nathan grinned crookedly, dropping a kiss onto his daughter's increasingly curly and still very red hair. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, and extended an Askani pattern down their link, encouraging her to follow it.
Rachel traced it perfectly. As always. Nathan stared unseeingly at the living room wall, most of his focus on the link, the rest lost in wonderment - again, and always. He didn't think any of them, with the possible exception of Charles, truly appreciated what they were raising here. A psi whose powers were as natural to her as breathing, right from the beginning. What would she be able to do, as she grew into her powers? Her mutation would never be a traumatic, unwelcome intrusion into her life. It would be part of who she was, at the most fundamental level imaginable.
There were still times he was frightened for her. He suspected there always would be. But it was very simple, really, the solution. Nathan smiled softly as Rachel yawned, the meditation pattern having a not-unexpected effect.
He could be afraid for her, growing up in the world as it was. Or he could make it a better world. For her.
It was really no choice at all. And with that calm reminder of something he'd known for a while now, the lingering tension from the previous night's mission faded, washed away by the soft, warm, increasingly sleepy thoughts emanating from the link with Rachel, and the clearer, amused, but just as warm thoughts he was sensing from Moira. The two of them were all the balance he needed, in the end.
"Love you, munchkin," he whispered to Rachel, and closed his eyes.
"Stop poking my nose, Ray."
His daughter giggled, and Nathan rolled his eyes at her. He had made the mistake of lying down on the couch after dinner, only to wake up to find a (growing) toddler sitting on him and prodding his face experimentally every few seconds, as if expecting it to somehow change. Rachel seemed entirely unrepentant about it, too.
She tried it again, and he reached out and grabbed her hand with a sly, if weary grin. The counterattack elicited an indignant squeak as she tried to pull back, levitating a few inches into the air as she yanked. "Bad!" she pronounced thunderously; one of her newest words, and a distinct favorite. (Along with 'yes!', usually as a direct response to 'no!'.)
"That's me. Bad Dad."
Rachel grinned hugely at him, her pique forgotten, and floated back down, promptly snuggling. "Da," she pronounced happily, her little hands plucking at his shirt. Nathan chuckled softly and slipped an arm around her. He reached out and touched her mind, which was largely peaceful at the moment, with a fading spark or two of mischief.
"Dad's had a long few days, kiddo. You're not going to make me chase you around all week, are you?"
"Mmmm."
That had sounded almost considering, and Nathan grinned crookedly, dropping a kiss onto his daughter's increasingly curly and still very red hair. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, and extended an Askani pattern down their link, encouraging her to follow it.
Rachel traced it perfectly. As always. Nathan stared unseeingly at the living room wall, most of his focus on the link, the rest lost in wonderment - again, and always. He didn't think any of them, with the possible exception of Charles, truly appreciated what they were raising here. A psi whose powers were as natural to her as breathing, right from the beginning. What would she be able to do, as she grew into her powers? Her mutation would never be a traumatic, unwelcome intrusion into her life. It would be part of who she was, at the most fundamental level imaginable.
There were still times he was frightened for her. He suspected there always would be. But it was very simple, really, the solution. Nathan smiled softly as Rachel yawned, the meditation pattern having a not-unexpected effect.
He could be afraid for her, growing up in the world as it was. Or he could make it a better world. For her.
It was really no choice at all. And with that calm reminder of something he'd known for a while now, the lingering tension from the previous night's mission faded, washed away by the soft, warm, increasingly sleepy thoughts emanating from the link with Rachel, and the clearer, amused, but just as warm thoughts he was sensing from Moira. The two of them were all the balance he needed, in the end.
"Love you, munchkin," he whispered to Rachel, and closed his eyes.
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