40 Days (in the Desert): Bread from Rocks

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Hangovers are evil. And so is Lorna who is hangover free and tormenting Nathan. Poor Nathan



What had he been thinking. Nathan adjusted his sunglasses, trying not to glare at the nice security personnel as they cleared him into the departures area. It wasn't their fault he was hungover. It might be nice if it was, because then he could blame them - them, and the other drivers on the road this morning, and the damned cabbie, and oh, the idiot girl who'd mistakenly given him decaf coffee at the Starbucks. But no, it was pure and simply his fault...

"Ow, oh...sorry! I, um, sorry." Lorna winced and flinched, pulling her bag away from the man she'd inadvertently clocked in the head. She darted from his glare and navigated with a stumbling pace around a trio of children on the floor, ducked around a pillar and flopped into a seat with a relieved sigh. Hurrah, no one had died.

They finally let him past security, and Nathan picked up his bag and headed towards his gate, willing people to just stay right the hell out of the way. He was so not in the mood. For anything.

Spotting familiar green hair in the seating area beside his gate, Nathan froze. No... oh, hell. But it was her, and she was looking in his direction, and so ducking behind a pillar was probably not on. Grumbling under his breath as he dragged his suitcase behind him, he went over and sat down in one of the empty seats next to her.

Lorna smiled at Nathan, "Morning! Didn't know you were flying out today." Nerves made her voice crystal sharp and the cheerfulness glinted at the edges. "What a coincidence."

"Yes. However did we luck out." Nathan adjusted his sunglasses, wishing he'd taken more aspirin this morning. A handful would have done nicely.

It was needlessly cruel of her but she was often less kind when she was on edge. "Partied too hard last night, huh? I don't think I've seen that shade of green outside of a vegetable. Not even a good vegetable. Over cooked veggies that are all gross and slimy."

"Well, I'm not as young as I used to be," Nathan granted generously. Very generously. "So. Fleeing the mansion for spring break?"

"Home for Easter, nerd. Seeing the family, meeting new family." She took a drink of her triple shot latte. "I have a meeting at two with my sister."

The laugh was low, and not entirely pleasant. "Oh. Meeting new family. Lucky you."

"Well, you're not the only one with a black sheep in the family. Zala ran off when she was a teenager. She's made good though. She's the head of a corporation." And a criminal but that wasn't anyone's business.

"So was my father. And my uncle. In fact, I'd say success in business is indicative of the fact that she's probably evil," Nathan said mock-cheerfully. "Capitalists are bad. Down with the system. Anarchy ho."

Lorna raised an eyebrow at him, "Gee, you're cranky today. She inherited the company from her husband."

"Cranky? Moi?" Nathan slouched in his seat, stretching out his legs and ignoring the dirty look he got from a man who had been walking by and wound up having to sidestep or trip. "See, that's probably just what she wants you to think. Secretly she's got a cabal. Or something. Do you want backup?" Nathan looked around at her, one arched eyebrow ruining the deadpan look. "I mean, this isn't your typical bad guy we're talking about here. This is a long-lost family member. That means worse than all of the conventional supervillains put together."

"Stop ruining my reunion because you're cranky. It's not my fault you drank too much." Lorna drank more of her latte and sat back defiantly. "The last thing I want is for her to meet the people I hang out with. I'm trying to make her think I'm cool." Well and she didn't want anyone else anywhere near the woman. Best to sound her out on her own, discover if her course was choice or simply lack of guidance.

"This is the voice of experience, not the voice of my hangover," Nathan said very patiently. "But it's all right, Lorna." He patted her arm. "When she turns out to be evil, we'll let you join the club. We have t-shirts, now."

"So bitter. Is that what it's like to get old?" Lorna reached over and stole Nathan's sunglasses, "Some of us aren't devoid of joy and hope."

"Augh." Nathan flung an arm across his eyes. "Bitch. The sunlight will make me melt, give them back."

She slipped them on her own face instead. "Look at me, I'm Nate. 'You're not allowed to get along with your sister because I'm old and mean and it would make me cry.' Blah blah blah."

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you harpy," Nathan groused, uncovering his eyes. The black circles beneath were all too obvious, and didn't really have that much to do with the hangover. "God forbid I should want you to avoid the same crap Kurt and I went through."

"Been there, done that, wore the shiny metal collar of 'hi, fake-daddy, who can I kill for you today?'" She whipped the glasses back off and shoved them back to him. "I'm worried enough about meeting her as is. Don't fill my head with messed up ideas."

"Please tell me we're sitting at opposite ends of the plane so I don't have to fly all the way to the city I hate the most while watching you stick your fingers in your ears going 'Lalalala, I will meet my sister and she will love me and we will skip through fields of flowers and fluffy bunnies together!"

Lorna pulled out her boarding pass, "If we're sitting together, I'll have to drink just to survive the flight. And that will make a delightful impression."

"Moira says I act like a five year old with ADD on commercial flights," Nathan said helpfully. "But actually, even if we are in each other's vicinity, I wouldn't worry. I intend to start drinking as soon as we take off and not stop until we land."

She looked away from him and focused on the large readout over the desk. "Please God, let us board."

"I wonder if they have little bottles of tequila," Nathan mused. "I polished off most of a big bottle, last night. Well, Betsy helped a little. But tequila is the only real drink for weeks like this..."

Lorna was digging in her purse and pointedly ignoring Nathan. She came up with a mint and a stick of gum. Unwrapping both, she curled the gum around the mint and when next Nathan's mouth opened, shoved it in. "Hush. And don't sit so close, people might think we know each other."

Nathan managed not to choke. "I'm aiming to impress my real estate agents," he said sourly. "Tequila breath should do nicely." He did not, however, spit out the mint-gum. The taste in his mouth had been thoroughly nasty.

"Yeah, you'll impress them with your classy imitation of a homeless person." She yawned and acquired a piece of gum for herself. "Why are you even going out there? Just sell the place."

"I can't. Haven't cleaned the place out," Nathan muttered. "I mean, there've been people in there keeping the dust from accumulating and stuff, over the year... maintenance and the like. But everything's still the way he left it."

Lorna shook her head and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "You can hire people for that kind of thing too. Estate liquidators. But you're too stubborn to let them."

"Well, who the hell knows what they'd find?" Nathan said crossly. "Secret plans to take over the world..."

"Ex-wives in the attic. Secret nuclear devices. A world-class collection of beanie babies..." She yawned again and checked the time. "Oh good, almost boarding."

"I somehow can't see Saul collecting beanie babies." Nathan pulled out his boarding pass and took a look at it. "So where are you?"

"5D," she held it out, leaning over to look at his as well.

"7C," he said. "Aisle seat." His lips twitched. "I promise to leave you alone."

"Damn straight you will, cranky boy. I'm in first class. There's a wall between you and me." As if on cue, the loudspeaker crackled into life and invited the first, platinum and premium sky passenger to board. "Sucker."

"Of all the days to have opted for business class..." Nathan leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. "Go on. Exit stage left already."

"Exeunt, chased by a bear." Lorna grabbed her things and cackled her way to the ticket line.