xp_logs | Nathan and Remy, Friday

Remy comes across Nathan in the library and has a couple of small requests.

The boathouse was smelling a little musty, or maybe that was just his imagination. Either way, the empty office was getting depressing, and the obvious solution to that was still not one he was prepared to take. Fortunately, there were options. He hadn't done some concentrated language work for a while now, and at some point during his coma, the school's library had finally gotten in that book on Igbo he'd been waiting for.

Unfortunately it was not the most useful thing ever. "Why am I doing this to myself," Nathan muttered, pouring over the discussion of the different dialects. "Would make more sense to go try the immersion method, or something..."

"Because Nigeria is a shithole right now. Actually, it's always been one, but 'bout eight months ago, Remy was in Warri and ran 'cross a MOPOL unit. You ever run 'cross dem? Nasty pieces of work." The Cajun appeared from the stacks behind Nate. He had a stack of books under his arm, mostly detailed commodity atlases used in trade and economic courses. "Got targeted for de crime of being white, wearing a suit, and obviously not working for an oil company. Took de better part of an hour to evade de manhunt dat had no better justification den I looked like I had money."

"But I like shitholes," Nathan said, not looking back over his shoulder. "And occasionally being chased. It's always such fun to let them think they've got you on the run and then throw a truck at them." He finally did look sideways at Remy, noting the stack of books. "Doing a little light reading?"

"Following up some field work from before Apocalypse. Some of de others had an idea 'bout strategic materials as dey applied to mutants, so we're playing around wit' some models, see if we can put together some kind of semi-intelligent system dat can watchdog specific markets. Kind of like de nuclear regulatory thing." Remy shrugged. "Might turn out to be a waste of time, but if it works, it could be very useful. You? I heard dat Elpis is on a forced vacation for de next little bit so people can unwind."

"Actually, it's more like I dumped our work on the Tel Aviv office, using the state of Manhattan as an excuse." It didn't occur to him to dissemble; there really wasn't much point. His minions were already twigging to it. "I fully expect a pissy Israeli over here in a week or so kicking my ass. Or Dom checking to see if I'm a pod person."

"I can get you some landmines for de path to de boathouse if you want. Dey'd never expect it." Remy said with a wry smile, setting down the books and leaning against the table. "My people all do better when dey have work to focus on, although maintaining de network on borrowed computers and cell phones is like trying to drive a truck from de back of de bed wit' two ropes tied to the steering."

"I just sent Jane over to the other office because she was feeling that way - needing work, I mean." Nathan leafed through the book, then closed it. Not particularly helpful. There was nothing wrong with relying on other people's translations, he tried to convince myself. "Unfortunately I can't ship them all off like that. People would start to get suspicious."

"Dey likely all wouldn't handle it de same way either. You crew here seems to run pretty smoothly, so you must be doing something right. No sense changing what works, neh?" Remy was a firm believer in sticking with winning formulas, especially the ones keeping him alive. "Besides, if you claim it as unpaid leave, you could save some money." he joked.

"See, but that would be unethical." Nathan leaned back in his chair, eyeing Remy. "So, I do hope you're taking the opportunity to chase Ororo around the greenhouse at appropriate moments..."

"She gets angry if I trample de plants. Safer to chase her around her room instead." Remy said. It wasn't a secret that while at the mansion, Remy had been living in Ororo's suite with her, much to his own enjoyment. After six months of forced seperation, just being around her was a balm to him. "How 'bout you? Figured you'd take a week or two at Muir following all dis."

"I'd compliment you for being that tender-hearted towards her plants, but I imagine it's fear of miniature lightning-bolts to sensitive places that taught you that lesson," Nathan said, then shrugged. "And I suppose I should think about Muir, now that I can get a plane over easily... I had my reasons for not heading over right away." Not wanting to see Alison until she was in a better state, not wanting to upset Rachel... "There are times I don't go because I'm not sure I'd come back, too."

"Dat so? You not thinking 'bout retiring, are you? Hang up de funny looking polearm and leather suit, settle down to a quiet life of status reports and executive meetings?" Remy's tone was lightly mocking, although the question wasn't entirely a joke. Everyone had to leave the field one day, and Nate had been through enough that it wasn't outside of the realm of possibility.

"Well, the month-long coma was food for thought." It didn't even come out particularly sarcastic. "But no... probably not. Apart from having no clue how to be retired, there are some pieces of unfinished business I would never leave unresolved behind me. I have no particular desire to be looking over my shoulder for Trask, or worse, Saidullayev, for the rest of my life."

"You're rich. Our rates are very affordable." Remy pointed out. "But, if you not retiring, den dere's two things dat you can help me wit'."

Nathan's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm listening..."

"Doug needs regional polish on his languages; colloquilisms, slang, specific accents to small regions, dat sort of thing. I'd like to bounce him between some of your Elpis offices over de next few months to expose him to a wider range in a structured environment. He can do translation work, answer de phones, whatever you can use him for in exchange for a couple of days of immersion in a day to day environment."

"That's probably workable," Nathan said after a moment. "He's already on the books as a consultant after I took him to Mongolia, so Rollins won't quibble." He shrugged, smiling crookedly. "Not that he would anyway. Joel's very tolerant about our personnel foibles."

"Bein. I'd rather he have a secure environment to focus, as opposed to picking things up on a mission by mission basis. De second thing is a little easier..."

"Secure is as secure does," Nathan drawled. "Although we haven't been blown up lately, in our defense."

"One of his bosses fed him to a meat computer. Remy take dat as an acceptable level of risk." He said dryly. "As I mentioned, de second thing is dat it's all you can eat wing day at Harry's, and dey finally got a cajun recipe for dem dat's, well, actually cajun. But you need at least two to de table to order it, and 'Ro's got classes dis afternoon. So..."

Nathan's eyes narrowed again. "You haven't been talking to Wanda, have you? Never mind," he said before the other man could answer. "Fine. Cajun wings it is. May as well add some greasy food on top of the lack of sleep and overabundant alcohol the last couple of weeks. And I told Harry not to sell me any more tequila, so."

"Homme, Remy think dat decision was made 'bout three shots before you asked for it."

"That pool cue was an accomplice to cheating, and it really would have looked much better sticking out of that trucker's... well," Nathan said with a degree of dignity. "I restrained myself, didn't I? And Bubba decided discretion was the better part of valor, in the end..." He flipped a hand at the Igbo grammar, and it reshelved itself in the stacks behind him. "Upon reflection, I'll just make sure I tip really well today."

"Dat's right. Otherwise, one of de waitstaff going to get mean. Remy thinks Harry's secretly trains dem wit' de same methods as de SAS."