xp_logs | Nathan and Angelo, Friday afternoon

Nathan comes back from a meeting in the city to a voicemail message from someone he really doesn't want to talk to, and a certain amount of well-meaning pressure from Angelo about why he's avoiding who he's avoiding.

Friday afternoon was one of the quiet times around the boathouse; it was Juliette's day off, Rahne was generally elsewhere on Friday's, and so he and Angelo usually had the place to themselves. He'd had a meeting in town this morning, and upon returning headed right back to the office wanting to go over the minutes with Angelo.

"Productive, all in all," he greeted Angelo as he came through the door. "Although there's a lot of work to be done before we can actually do anything, if you know what I mean."

Angelo was perched on the desk next to the answering machine, and raised an eyebrow at him as he came in. "Prep work, got it." The next movement he made was quick and casual, his hand to the replay button on the machine.

"Hello, Nathan." The voice was unmistakably Jack Leary's, with more than a touch of concern in it. "Moira suggested I try the office, given that I've been having such trouble getting in touch with you to reschedule that appointment." The concern was replaced by reassurance. "Just let me know what would be best for you. I know how unpredictable your schedule can be at times."

Nathan raised an eyebrow as Jack said goodbye and hung up. I'm amazing he managed to get that out without laughing. He supposed it would be undiplomatic for one's therapist to be too open about the fact that he knew damned well you were avoiding him.

"Well, it's not like the last couple of weeks haven't been busy," he said to Angelo as he headed over to his desk. "And stop looking at me in that tone of voice, boy."

"Not that busy", Angelo retorted. "Not so you couldn't take an hour off to go see Jack, 'specially since he comes here if you want him to."

"We really have to formally write your job description at some point, you know," Nathan said dismissively, sliding out of his suit jacket and sitting down. It was telling, however, that he didn't meet Angelo's eyes. "You keep spontaneously adding things like 'nagging me to see my therapist' to it." It was on the tip of his tongue to say that Angelo and Moira made a good pair, but he didn't need to admit that.

"Part of my job's always been to try an' watch your back", Angelo pointed out, not quite as easily as he was trying for. "I figure this counts."

"My back is fine. My back does not need watching at the moment." By Angelo, Moira, or Jack. "Did you finish going through those stats from Tanzania?" he asked, knowing it was an overly obvious attempt to change the subject. "We're going to be needing to decide on the budget for that project soon."

"You know I did. I was almost done with that when you asked me yesterday." There was just the slightest edge to his voice, now, because the subject change really had been obvious.

"Oh good. Just because we have semi-limitless funds doesn't mean we can throw money at things without saying 'this is where we stop'." Nathan raised a hand to scratch at his healing cheek, then remembered and lowered it back to the desk. Someone had asked him what had happened to his face at the meeting today. He'd said something about a disagreement with a cat. The questioner had looked rather dubious.

"Right. Well, it's done."

"That's good," Nathan said a bit lamely, repeating himself. His eyes fell on the phone for a moment, and between what Moira had had to say on the matter and the distinctly unimpressed way Angelo was looking at him, he almost reached out for it. Almost, and the flash of anger made him shift in his chair, his jaw clenching. "I don't want to talk about it," he said under his breath.

"There's a lot of stuff happens around here people don't want to talk about. Doesn't mean you shouldn't, to him at least. Or talk around it. Somethin'. Just go see him, Nate." He sounded more tired than annoyed, now.

"No." It came out sounding upset - too upset, very definitely not the semi-even keel he'd been managing to keep. "I can't do a number of things right now, and that's one of them." He looked up at Angelo, something very raw in his eyes, and proceeded to be more honest with him than he had been with anyone except Moira. "There's no stopping to process this, there's just moving past it. Because there is no way to move through it."

Angelo looked back at him unflinchingly, and sighed. "An' you really think you can move past it without talkin' about it to anyone, even a bit? Just forget it ever happened?"

"Why not? I can chalk it up with the other dozen things that I've just learned to live with." Nathan's eyes dropped back to the table, and he picked up a pen, pulling a pad over to start jotting down notes. "It's just too much, Angelo," he said as he wrote. His voice was surprisingly calm. "Too much, too close... if I look it in the eyes, I can't live with it. So yeah. Moving on is sort of the only option."

"Then at least tell Jack you'll call him back when you're ready to see him. He's worried about you too, you know that."

"He'll try and convince me to come in and talk. Maybe I can call after hours and get his answering machine," Nathan muttered.

"Nathan. Just tell him why you can't come in yet - if you really can't, then he won't convince you. Unless he's better at it than me."

Nathan's jaw tightened, his lips trembling for an instant before he pressed them together, his expression gone neutral again. "I'll call him." He didn't reach for the telephone, however.

"When?" Angelo pressed quietly.

"Before the end of the day." He was still jotting down notes from the meeting, but his hand wasn't as steady as it could be and the notes were not particularly readable.

"Okay." It was as good a promise, that kind of timeframe, and Angelo relaxed a little. "So."

"So. Stats?" Now he just had to find a way to create a situation at the end of the day that made calling impossible. He had a couple of hours to brainstorm.