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xp_logs2009-06-05 09:32 pm
x-cable.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2009-06-05 09:32 pm
Nathan and Lil, Friday evening
Lil gets harassed at work. (Yes, really.)
It was a quiet night at Harry's. Lil hadn't been on duty since Amara's party and while the calm was appreciated it also meant less tips and more boredom. Filling two pints for a pair at one of the little tables, she made her way back behind the bar, blowing a lock of hair from her face before starting to wipe down the counter top with one of the rags always kept on hand. The tvs were on, the chatter of various conversations floated through the air but it was the sound of the door that had the blonde woman's head lifting - and then making her wish she could disappear when she spied the form of the man she'd been avoiding for the last week or so.
Instead of heading for his usual corner booth, Nathan marched right up to the bar and took a seat, smiling all too brightly at her. "I'll get a Guinness," he said.
"Coming right up," Lil replied with a grin of her own, though much tighter and no where near as happy. It took a minute or so to serve the drink properly; the glass tilted to an angle with the tap flowing until it was mostly full then left to settle before adding the final quarter and a 'lucky shamrock' drawn into the head. "Anything to eat?" she asked as she set the drink in front of him while holding onto what dignity she still maintained. None of it was either of their faults.
"Mmm. Not right now," Nathan said, and watched her turn back to her countertop-wiping. "It's been one of those weeks," he said idly, as if he was any patron, striking up a conversation with any bartender. "I have this coworker, see, who's avoiding me like I have the plague."
Jaw clenching, it took most of the Amazon's control not to stop what she was doing. Lil wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. "Oh? Maybe you should count your blessings and leave well enough alone. They aren't bothering you; enjoy the quiet while it lasts."
"Not really an option," Nathan said, sipping at his beer. "We have this job that requires working closely in stressful situations. But anyway," he went on in a faux-cheerful tone, "she's got her panties in a twist about something she had no control over. And instead of coming to me, or one of the other people who could help her prevent it from happening again, she's hiding."
"Or her panties are just fine, like she is and has just been busy," Lil offered in defense. She wasn't dumb enough not to know exactly what he was talking about - or who. "People have lives. Maybe you're just reading the situation wrong."
"Maybe I am. But my coworker is the ambitious type, and would be best-advised to work on gaps in her skills when they appear, rather than leaving them indefinitely. One never knows when the next evil telepath might appear," Nathan said, and the flippant tone was belied by the slight twist of his mouth.
Green eyes flicked up to Nate's face and the blonde pressed both palms hard against the counter, leaning her weight on them with locked elbows. "Maybe she wants help, just not yours," she nearly growled through bared teeth.
Gray met green unwaveringly, and Nathan dropped the third person bullshit. "Then don't take mine - I'm not the only one that could help. But for fuck's sake, take someone's - and do it, promptly." Like any training, it took time, and the sooner she started, the better off she'd be. "What are you going to do the next time we're in the field and Haller or Jean or I have to link you into the telepathic switchboard if you're still this edgy about telepathy?"
"I'm always going to be edgy about someone fucking poking around in my skull," Lil returned, though she kept her voice low and steady. No use in causing a disturbance for the other patrons scattered around the bar. One raised voice would be enough to get Harry's attention and that would be the end of that. "It's a violation and I don't gotta like it. Ain't nothing personal against you or Jean or Haller but stay outta my fucking head."
Nathan straightened on the stool, and the expression on his face turned a little... odd, for lack of a better word. Cold and wary and more distant than it had been a moment before. "You know," he said finally, "Trask isn't even a telepath. Or is it easier just to lump all psis into one big happy group of mental rapists?"
"I didn't say that," she hissed. "And I didn't call you a mental rapist. What goes on in my head is there for me to hear only. What I think, what I feel, what I fear is for me and me alone to know and feel and think and fear. I don't care if it's Trask or anyone else, I don't want anyone poking around in my head. And yeah, if I don't give permission, it is a violation. That I stand by."
"Funny that you're being this vehement, when the telepaths around here are all Xavier-trained and about as likely to go fishing as Mother Theresa was to walk up to people on the street and start punching them in the face," Nathan said, his mouth twisting again. He was still keeping his voice as low as Lil's, however. "Trask fucked with your head, but it's us you're running away from."
"I didn't do anything to you and I'm not running from you, either," Lil returned, her diamond hard nails scratching the counter that she was leaning on. "Just because I didn't come to you for help with something that I don't need help with doesn't mean I can't work with you - I have and I will continue to do so as long as I'm in New York. I don't fucking run from anything." Avoid, yes. Run once faced with it? Never. "I was nursing a sore head, bruised ego and then had Amara's party. Satisfied?"
"No," Nathan said. "There are so many things you can do to make yourself less vulnerable to what happened in Budapest that the fact you're insisting there's nothing you can do is like saying 'Yes, I know there's a chink in my armor, have at it, hostiles of the world'." He set his beer back down on the bar. "And you know what? If everytime you have to be in a room with me you're afraid that I'm going to invade your mind, you're not working with me. You're enduring me. But that's fine," he went on with a bitter little smile, pulling out his wallet and pulling out a twenty. "It's not as if people like me aren't used to that."
The blonde lifted her chin, jaw clenching and unclenching. "I am not afraid of you," Lil said simply with green eyes flashing.
"Just of what I can do," Nathan said, standing. He'd barely touched the Guinness, but, well, he hadn't come down here to drink. "Don't worry, it's perfectly socially acceptable. Even among other mutants. Probably a damned good thing that most telepaths can pass."
She watched him carefully, headed still tilted up defensively. "Don't try to imply that I'm some kinda racist, Dayspring. You wouldn't want a brick punching you in the face, I don't want a psi poking around in my skull. Never accused you of a fucking thing and you know it so I'm not interested in any kinda act that's supposed to make me feel guilty about this." Taking the money off the counter, she moved to the cash register and took out his change before slapping it back on the bar in front of him. "I just need some fucking time to myself with this and you treating me like I'm one of the bad guys 'cause of it? Not helping."
"A brick did try to punch me in the face," Nathan said. "But the only reason she did that was because she didn't know she could learn to be less vulnerable to what drove her to it. So I'm not holding any grudges. I guess now it's up to her to decide if she wants it to happen again or not." He shook his head at the change. "Keep it. Call it a tip. It was," he said as he turned away from the bar, "a very nicely poured Guinness." And he hadn't gotten it poured over his head in the course of the conversation, either.
It was a quiet night at Harry's. Lil hadn't been on duty since Amara's party and while the calm was appreciated it also meant less tips and more boredom. Filling two pints for a pair at one of the little tables, she made her way back behind the bar, blowing a lock of hair from her face before starting to wipe down the counter top with one of the rags always kept on hand. The tvs were on, the chatter of various conversations floated through the air but it was the sound of the door that had the blonde woman's head lifting - and then making her wish she could disappear when she spied the form of the man she'd been avoiding for the last week or so.
Instead of heading for his usual corner booth, Nathan marched right up to the bar and took a seat, smiling all too brightly at her. "I'll get a Guinness," he said.
"Coming right up," Lil replied with a grin of her own, though much tighter and no where near as happy. It took a minute or so to serve the drink properly; the glass tilted to an angle with the tap flowing until it was mostly full then left to settle before adding the final quarter and a 'lucky shamrock' drawn into the head. "Anything to eat?" she asked as she set the drink in front of him while holding onto what dignity she still maintained. None of it was either of their faults.
"Mmm. Not right now," Nathan said, and watched her turn back to her countertop-wiping. "It's been one of those weeks," he said idly, as if he was any patron, striking up a conversation with any bartender. "I have this coworker, see, who's avoiding me like I have the plague."
Jaw clenching, it took most of the Amazon's control not to stop what she was doing. Lil wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. "Oh? Maybe you should count your blessings and leave well enough alone. They aren't bothering you; enjoy the quiet while it lasts."
"Not really an option," Nathan said, sipping at his beer. "We have this job that requires working closely in stressful situations. But anyway," he went on in a faux-cheerful tone, "she's got her panties in a twist about something she had no control over. And instead of coming to me, or one of the other people who could help her prevent it from happening again, she's hiding."
"Or her panties are just fine, like she is and has just been busy," Lil offered in defense. She wasn't dumb enough not to know exactly what he was talking about - or who. "People have lives. Maybe you're just reading the situation wrong."
"Maybe I am. But my coworker is the ambitious type, and would be best-advised to work on gaps in her skills when they appear, rather than leaving them indefinitely. One never knows when the next evil telepath might appear," Nathan said, and the flippant tone was belied by the slight twist of his mouth.
Green eyes flicked up to Nate's face and the blonde pressed both palms hard against the counter, leaning her weight on them with locked elbows. "Maybe she wants help, just not yours," she nearly growled through bared teeth.
Gray met green unwaveringly, and Nathan dropped the third person bullshit. "Then don't take mine - I'm not the only one that could help. But for fuck's sake, take someone's - and do it, promptly." Like any training, it took time, and the sooner she started, the better off she'd be. "What are you going to do the next time we're in the field and Haller or Jean or I have to link you into the telepathic switchboard if you're still this edgy about telepathy?"
"I'm always going to be edgy about someone fucking poking around in my skull," Lil returned, though she kept her voice low and steady. No use in causing a disturbance for the other patrons scattered around the bar. One raised voice would be enough to get Harry's attention and that would be the end of that. "It's a violation and I don't gotta like it. Ain't nothing personal against you or Jean or Haller but stay outta my fucking head."
Nathan straightened on the stool, and the expression on his face turned a little... odd, for lack of a better word. Cold and wary and more distant than it had been a moment before. "You know," he said finally, "Trask isn't even a telepath. Or is it easier just to lump all psis into one big happy group of mental rapists?"
"I didn't say that," she hissed. "And I didn't call you a mental rapist. What goes on in my head is there for me to hear only. What I think, what I feel, what I fear is for me and me alone to know and feel and think and fear. I don't care if it's Trask or anyone else, I don't want anyone poking around in my head. And yeah, if I don't give permission, it is a violation. That I stand by."
"Funny that you're being this vehement, when the telepaths around here are all Xavier-trained and about as likely to go fishing as Mother Theresa was to walk up to people on the street and start punching them in the face," Nathan said, his mouth twisting again. He was still keeping his voice as low as Lil's, however. "Trask fucked with your head, but it's us you're running away from."
"I didn't do anything to you and I'm not running from you, either," Lil returned, her diamond hard nails scratching the counter that she was leaning on. "Just because I didn't come to you for help with something that I don't need help with doesn't mean I can't work with you - I have and I will continue to do so as long as I'm in New York. I don't fucking run from anything." Avoid, yes. Run once faced with it? Never. "I was nursing a sore head, bruised ego and then had Amara's party. Satisfied?"
"No," Nathan said. "There are so many things you can do to make yourself less vulnerable to what happened in Budapest that the fact you're insisting there's nothing you can do is like saying 'Yes, I know there's a chink in my armor, have at it, hostiles of the world'." He set his beer back down on the bar. "And you know what? If everytime you have to be in a room with me you're afraid that I'm going to invade your mind, you're not working with me. You're enduring me. But that's fine," he went on with a bitter little smile, pulling out his wallet and pulling out a twenty. "It's not as if people like me aren't used to that."
The blonde lifted her chin, jaw clenching and unclenching. "I am not afraid of you," Lil said simply with green eyes flashing.
"Just of what I can do," Nathan said, standing. He'd barely touched the Guinness, but, well, he hadn't come down here to drink. "Don't worry, it's perfectly socially acceptable. Even among other mutants. Probably a damned good thing that most telepaths can pass."
She watched him carefully, headed still tilted up defensively. "Don't try to imply that I'm some kinda racist, Dayspring. You wouldn't want a brick punching you in the face, I don't want a psi poking around in my skull. Never accused you of a fucking thing and you know it so I'm not interested in any kinda act that's supposed to make me feel guilty about this." Taking the money off the counter, she moved to the cash register and took out his change before slapping it back on the bar in front of him. "I just need some fucking time to myself with this and you treating me like I'm one of the bad guys 'cause of it? Not helping."
"A brick did try to punch me in the face," Nathan said. "But the only reason she did that was because she didn't know she could learn to be less vulnerable to what drove her to it. So I'm not holding any grudges. I guess now it's up to her to decide if she wants it to happen again or not." He shook his head at the change. "Keep it. Call it a tip. It was," he said as he turned away from the bar, "a very nicely poured Guinness." And he hadn't gotten it poured over his head in the course of the conversation, either.