(no subject)

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Moira stood with her back to the door, stuffing more medical supplies into the bag in front of her. Sedatives, aspirin, band aids, just in case. She stopped for a moment and put her hand on her forehead. "What a bloody day," she sighed, eyeing the bizarre crystal ball that sat close to her elbow. She had brought it out earlier to test Amanda again but in all the ruckus she had forgotten she had wanted to use it. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was frustrated. Very frustrated.

Cain whistled tunelessly, knapsack slung over one shoulder, ducking his head as he strode through the doorway into the lab area. "Hey, Doc?" he called out, looking into Moira's office. "You around?"

Peering over her shoulder, Moira smiled tiredly. "Cain! Come in. Aye, I'm here...but briefly." Turning, she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "What can I do fer ye?...please tell me it isna another emergency?"

Shaking his head, Cain slid around the door into one of Moira's overstuffed chairs, kicking his legs up onto a small medical chest. "No, no. Just taking a break from putting in the new dryer. Was going to show you the other stuff I got during my trip." His grin was like a small child's as he noticed Moira's paperweight holding down a stack of notes. "Hey, you like your rock?"

Smiling, Moira reached over and patted the rock. "Aye, tis verra useful, thank ye. Bot' as a paperweight an' as a weapon." She's relaxing slightly as she gets to joke around but Moira's still rather on edge.

Sensing her exhaustion, Cain hooked Moira's chair with a foot and swung it over to her. "Come on, take a load off. I bring," he deepened his voice, emulating the Richard Attenborough documentaries Charles loved, "secrets of the Orient!"

Moira flopped bonelessly in the chair and snickered. "Secrets o' the Orient, aye? Maybe I dinna..." A sudden flash of white light caught her attention and she craned her neck to look at the counter behind her. "What in the bloody blue 'ell?"

Cain leaned over, noticing the crystal globe flashing like a strobe light in intense shades of red and violet. "Hey, never figured you for the lava lamp type. When'd you pick that up?" he asked.

Out of the chair in a flash, Moira hesitantly poked it with a finger. The light didn't so much as waver. "I dinnae like lava lamps," she responded, distracted. "More o' a magic eight ball type o' gel meself. 'old on." In two quick steps she was at the door and peering out. "Well, she isna around so..." Her gaze fell back to Cain. "Again...th' bloody blue 'ell?"

"She who?" Cain asked, kneeling down to look at the flashing crystal. "What's this thing, then?"
"It's supposed ta...glow if magical energy comes around it." Moira sounded hesitant to say it, crossing her arms again and coming over to stand next to Cain. "Last time it glowed was when Amanda was...rat'er overbrimmin' wit' magic..."

"Magic." Cain said the word with the finality most people gave to "Roadkill". Shaking his head, he leaned back in the chair. "Next you'll be telling me that 'love potion' bullshit's real, too. So where's this 'magic' at if the witchy girl ain't here?"

"Well, considerin' me lovely Scottish bum didn't make it glow wit' joy..." She flicked her gaze at Cain and raised an eyebrow. "Maybe it's got a crush on ye?"

Cain arched one red eyebrow. "Me. Right. Lemme check if I've got goddamn Excalibur in my pocket here," Cain dramatically pantomimed pulling a sword from his backside. "No, wait! I've got the Holy Grail in my ass! Hmm, that's not it..."

"I dinnae know, maybe it's yer charmin' personality tha's makin' it glow brighter than a jus' deflowered virgin," Moira said offhandedly, peering down at the globe more closely. She was starting to get an idea.

Blinking slightly at Moira's choice of language, Cain threw his hands into the air. "Magic crystals. Love potions. And you're the scientist here." He closed his eyes, rubbing his fingers against his temple. "I blame Harry Potter. I really, really do."

"Cain, I know! It's givin' me a damned bloody 'eadache jus' thinkin' 'bout it. But..." Turning slowly, she pointed at his chest. "Jus' maybe..."

Eyes snapping open, Cain caught Moira's intent. "The hell?" His hand unconsciously went to his chest. "Oh hell no. You're not... you don't..." He rolled his eyes, reaching for his knapsack. "Maybe it's something in here that's making your woogie lantern go all FUBAR." he said as he lifted the backpack in between himself and Moira.

"I am an'..." Her eyes bugged out as the light in the crystal suddenly went dead. "...Cain, I think ye jus' broke it's heart..." She was too flustered to think of anything else to say.

Cain laughed, dropping the backpack into his lap. The crystal flared to life again, flashing like a squad car's light. Frowning, Cain threw a notepad at it, missing by a mile. "Okay, that thing's going to piss me the hell off."

"Oy!" She smacked his hand, not caring that it wouldn't do any good. "I dinnae need me office bein' used as a target zone."

"Well, shut that damn thing off!" he barked back, waving the backpack around, causing the globe to blink on and off as if someone was playing with a light switch.

"All right, ye overgrown three year old!" Ducking the swinging backpack, Moira reached up to grab it and was nearly lifted off her feet. Glaring indignantly at Cain while balancing on the very tips of her toes, she kept talking. "What's in th' bag? An' put it down before ye either knock me inta Timbuktu or lift me off th' ground."

Grateful for the distraction, Cain rummaged around in the knapsack, producing a trinket and passing it to Moira. "It's a good luck charm from the Montagnards. Ugly little mountain bastards, but they're tough as nails."

Certain he wasn't going to try to kill the crystal ball, Moira let go and held the trinket. "...Interestin' is a word fer this." She passed it up, around and finally donked it a couple of times against the ball. The light refused to go out.

"aaaaand..." Cain rummaged around in the sack, trying to ignore the crystal. "Look, little carved elephants. They carve the stone with these little bamboo things and HEY!" he yelped as Moira snatched the miniature pachyderm from his grasp.

"Sorry," she muttered, placing the elephant next to the ball. "Still nothin'." She attempted to peer into the bag. "What else?...it's adorable, by th' way..."

Cain grinned, pulling out a pair of boxer shorts emblazoned with the logo "CHARLIE DON'T SURF". "These, um, these are mine."

Moira's mouth twitched slightly and a slightly giggle escaped before she pulled herself together. "I...somehow dinnae think that's th' culprit..."

Cain shrugged, throwing the boxers over the flashing globe. "Just this thing," he pulled out a rusted metal plate, looking like a shallow bowl with a strange housing set into it. "This is what I yanked the ruby out of, if I remember right. Amazed it was still there after all these years." Curious, he tapped it against his chest, hearing the tink of metal on ruby. "All these years." he repeated.

"T'ank ye fer decor..." She paused. The light went out and the globe was silent. "Do tha' again."

"What?" Cain asked, tilting the metal to cover his chest. "This?" He glanced over at the globe, sitting dull and silent. "... I'll be damned..."

“...Damn me as well..." She reaches out her hands. "May I?" She gestures to the metal plate.

Cain gingerly passes the plate over to Moira, curiosity silencing any comment he may have had.

Hoisting the gently, she placed the metal plate on the crystal ball itself, in direct line of sight to where Cain's standing. It dims again. "Aye," she murmurs to herself and repeats the process. It only seems to die if the plate was directly blocking Cain. "Interestin'..."

"So you're sayin'," Cain murmured, "that whatever that plate there is, it blocks... what, magical radiation?" The pieces started to click together in his mind. "And that's what whatserbutt gets high off of?" He snapped his fingers, jumping to his feet. "Holy shit, she's been using me like a goddamn junkie with a fix, and I never even fucking knew a thing!"

Moira's brain was rolling right along side of his. "Aye...bloody 'ell, I never even thought o' tha'! None o' us could 'ave even 'ad a damned clue!"

Cain's brain whirled, suddenly seeing all the clues. "She's fueling up off me, no wonder she's been doing all this hoodoo. Healin' folks, mixing up fucking love potions..."

"Yer ruby is givin' 'er one 'ell o' a fix."

"No shit." Cain murmured. Slowly, he reached out for the metal plate, adjusting it on his chest until it overlapped the ruby entirely. "Feels... cold." he announced.

"Cold?" She blinked. "I thought ye really couldna feel cold..."

"I can, I just don't." Cain replied cryptically. "I mean, I feel it, but it don't bother me. This... ain't painful, just kinda weird." He arched an eyebrow. "Think this'd keep the punk pixie from going all Wicked Witch of the Westchester on everyone again?"

"Maybe. I believe she can still use 'er powers jus'...not ta this level." Considering Moira's rather stressful few days, she decided on an experiment and kicked Cain in the knee rather hard. "Feel tha'?"

Cain's facial expression didn't change until Moira started hopping up and down, holding her foot. "I felt it," he repeated, "just didn't bother me none." He reached out with one massive hand, picking up a spare metal crutch that was laying against the wall. Barely flexing his fingers, Cain crumpled the metal like it was tinfoil. "Everything's normal. As normal as I get, anyway.:

Shaking her foot out, Moira sighed, "Serves me right." She got a thoughtful expression on her face. "Ye think ye could...I dinnae know, wear it?"

"What, like a catcher's gear?" He replied, fidgeting with the curved plate against his chest. "I mean, it'd be easier if it was a little more flexible but..." He looked around. "I can give it a shot. Hand me that duct tape."

Turning, she spotted the roll of duct tape holding up some books on her desk. Moving the books, she handed the tape to Cain.

Cain ripped off a few lengths of tape, attempting to secure the plate to his chest, over his shirt. Finally throwing his hands down in frustration, he held the tape out to the doctor. "Some help here?"

Smirking slightly, she grabbed the duct tape back from him. "Er, this'll be easier if'n ye kneel." She waited patiently until he was at her level and then placed one end of the duct tape against the edge of the plate and his shirt. "All right...it's Maypole wit' Cain, then?" Stretching the duct tape, she ducked under his arms and started circling him, unraveling the duct tape and making it stick to the shirt and the plate. By the time she was done, she was slightly dizzy and Cain was covered from stomach to chest in duct tape.

"Ha ha." Cain deadpanned, reaching into the knapsack to pull out a gaudy floral print shirt. "This'll hold until I can get out to the boathouse and do this proper." He glanced up at the clock. "And shit, Ramsey'll probably be there in half an hour. I gotta run, doc." Cain took a step for the door and paused. "I'll be by later to get the rest of the stuff and, uh," he looked sheepishly at the ground, "can we keep this bit between us? At least, until we figure out a little bit more of what's making me tick?"

"Aye, o' course, though I will 'ave ta drop Romany a word 'bout findin' th' source o' Amanda's fixes...though not until ye're ready fer me ta." She eyed the shirt. "An' dear God, Cain, tha'll blind Cyclops..."

Cain smirked. "I'm likin' it already. Thanks, Doc. My round next time we're down at Harry's?"

"If'n me round includes a root beer float, yer on."

Comments

[xp_daytripper]

*dies*

I've read this three times and I still laugh out loud, especially at the bit where they're going through Cain's stuff trying to figure out what's causing the light show... *snickers some more* You two rock.