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xp_logsMarie is slipping upstairs for some middle of the night company because she can't sleep and she hears noises from Nathan's room. He's awake and can't sleep either, so they talk. Their conversation comes to an end when an equally insomniac Logan hears Marie's voice while prowling the halls and comes to find her.
Unable to sleep, Marie got out of bed and slipped upstairs, her feet barely touching the floor. As she passed room 312, Nathan's room now, she heard a loud thud and spun about. The door was open a crack and she tapped on it. "Nathan? Are you okay?" she called in a soft, light voice.
Leaning over to pick up the book he'd dropped - Moira had somehow managed to dig up the latest Tom Clancy for him - Nathan paused, not recognizing the voice from the other side of the door. "Um--fine," he called back hesitantly. "You can come in if you want."
"Hi." The speaker, peeking cautiously around the door, was a pale, slender girl dressed in a simple, long white nightdress. Dark hair with a blaze of white at the left temple fell in dishevelled waves to her shoulders. "Can't sleep?"
Nathan smiled faintly. "I think I've been spending enough time unconscious lately, yeah," he said, retrieving the book and sitting back down in the armchair where he'd spent most of the day, on and off. Moira would have preferred him to stay in the bed, he knew, but he hated lying around. "Marie, right?" he asked, making a guess based on the physical description Moira had given him. The girl nodded, and he gestured tentatively at the chair across from his. "Do you want to sit down? I'm assuming I'm not the only one with insomnia."
"Marie's right. And, yes." She let herself in and crossed the room to curl up in the other chair like a cat, tucking the hem of her nightdress over small, bare feet with the toenails painted lavender to match her fingernails. "Or no, not insomnia. Dreams. But close enough. Company is good, I was just on my way to wake someone up for some but since you're here, I'll let him sleep."
"Glad to be of service, then." Nathan set the book on the chair's wide arm, smiling with some embarrassment as Marie's eyes flickered to it. "An old addiction," he confessed a bit sheepishly. "Moira keeps trying to tell me I should read historical novels or something instead. Apparently my definition of escapism leaves much to be desired."
Marie laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever works. At least there's no destruction of private property involved. Besides, if you have to think about what you're reading, it's hardly escapism, is it?"
Nathan couldn't help a grin. There was more to this girl that surface appearances would suggest; he had suspected that, from what he'd seen of her on the journaling system. "I like to laugh at his inaccuracies," he admitted. "I suppose that puts me in the same class as people who go to historical movies to point out the inaccuracies--although, come to think of it, I do that too."
Marie shook her head. "You must drive your date nuts," she said with mock disapproval. "Though I can see how some people might find it endearing."
"I remember watching 'Gladiator' with Moira," Nathan said. "Back not long after it first came out. We were in this little second-run theatre in Edinburgh--" He stopped, the smile coming back as he lost himself in the nostalgia for a moment. "When the Emperor mounts his horse, right at the beginning of the movie, I stood up and shouted 'Stirrups! They didn't have stirrups in the second century!'" He chuckled. "Moira threw popcorn at me for the rest of the movie every time I opened my mouth."
Marie covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes sparkling. "She must like you if all she threw was popcorn," she pointed out. "And they didn't have stirrups. But that's not the point, silly. Whatever happened to the willing suspension of disbelief?"
"I'm too stubborn, I suppose," Nathan said with a shrug, tapping his fingers lightly on the cover of the book. "But anyway." He eyed her for a moment, not quite sure where to take the conversation next. "Like I was saying on the journals, this is quite the place," he said lightly. "Hopefully I'll get a chance to see more of it once I'm on my feet a little more reliably."
"Any idea when that will be?" Marie was serious as suddenly as she'd been laughing.
"Not a clue," Nathan said candidly, ignoring the little flash of frustration he felt at the admission. "Moira's not even halfway through the very long list of tests she wants to run." He fell silent for a long moment, trying once again to come to terms with the idea of being poked and prodded for some indeterminate amount of time. Even when it was Moira doing it, the thought was far from appealing. "I'm liable to run off screaming before the week is out, just to warn you," he said, a bit more bitterly than he'd intended.
"I understand," Marie said with genuine sympathy. "There's almost nothing worse than not having control over yourself. Hurting other people with it, or making their lives harder is like a kick in the teeth on top of it. Then there's the self-imposed isolation just so you don't have to live with the guilt in case the worst case happens. It /is/ enough to make a person crazy. Look, if you need to get out, maybe we can work something out."
"I appreciate the offer," Nathan said, but knew he wouldn't be taking her up on it for a while yet. No point in pushing his luck. "It's been--hell, years since the last time I was in the States. Funny to be back, in a way."
"I didn't mean you'd have to be all better to get out of here for a bit." Marie shifted in her chair, putting her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand. "I just said we'd work something out. So you know." Her eyes were very dark and intense. "Even if you just want to go for a walk for a while or something. I could get you back here, no problems, and I don't mind. Okay?"
"Well, then I will definitely keep that in mind," Nathan said with a grateful look. "I'm not used to staying in one place anymore, so a change of scenery would be very helpful at some point if I'm liable to be here for a while." He laughed quietly. "Cabin fever and my humble self are generally a very bad combination."
"I'm tougher than I look," Marie admitted with a little smile. "And I have a particular sympathy for people who need to get out of here and can't. Were you out of the States..." she looked for the right word for a moment. "...voluntarily?" Her word choice and the twitch of her eyebrow spoke volumes.
Entirely too perceptive, this one. "No," he said calmly. "Avoiding old colleagues, actually. I--decided on a change of career, and they were reluctant to see me go." Nathan glanced at the window for a moment, and then back at Marie. "I let your professor and a couple of others know the details," he said quietly. "Wisdom already knows, of course. I don't see it being a problem, but--well, I'll keep an ear out. If I hear anything suggesting they know I'm here, I'll be gone before you can say 'Nathan who'?"
Marie nodded, quiet and solemn again. "I appreciate that a great deal. We just got the blood out of the carpets and filled in the bullet holes from the last incident." Her expression was utterly serious.
Nathan felt something close to contentment, for a moment. The cards were on the table, and everyone knew where they stood. Maybe he could actually relax and enjoy being here now. "I hope I don't have to pull the vanishing act," he said without thinking, staring back out the window. "Moira would kill me, for one. And--well, I've been on the move for a long time. Eventually there's part of you that just wants to stop."
Marie watched Nathan and her smile returned, just the ghost of it on her lips, and her eyes were understanding. "I hope you don't either," she said gently. "You look like you need your rest. And I don't mean sleep."
Logan rolled over in bed. Fucking nightmares. And he was out of Oreos. Dammit. A walk sounded good. The garden would be empty at this hour. He crawled out of bed and headed to the door. As he reached the hall, he stopped. Marie was...somewhere. He could hear her voice.
Nathan eyed the girl - no, young woman, he corrected himself - sitting across from him and returned her slight smile. "And you're older than you look," he said quietly. "In the ways that it matters, I mean."
Marie nodded, a little ruefully. "It adds up." She tapped her temple gently. "But thanks for noticing. A lot of people underestimate me and that just wastes all our time. Still, don't expect me not to dump snow down your collar at the first opportunity." Suddenly, she flashed him an impish grin.
Logan waited until he heard her voice again, then walked in that direction. It was only a few steps until he could smell her and her scent led him straight to room 312. Brow wrinkling in confusion, he banged on the door.
Nathan jumped as he heard someone hit the door. He'd been focusing on Marie, not paying enough attention---he had already started to concentrate, preparing to lash out with his telekinesis, before he realized what he was doing and stopped himself. "Yes?" he called out cautiously, trying to slow down his breathing. There was something odd about the presence on the other side of the door; that was why he hadn't noticed.
Marie was uncurling from her chair and leaning forward, one hand extended toward Nathan. "It's okay," she said soothingly. "Come on in, Logan."
Logan opened the door and walked inside far enough to lean on the door frame. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his sweatshirt and nodded at the stranger across the room. "Hey. Don't mean t'interrupt."
"You're not." Marie's attention flicked from one man to the other as she got to her feet, gauging the tension levels. "This is Nathan, Logan. He was up so I stopped in on him to say hi."
Nathan eyed the newcomer, sizing up both him and the obvious undercurrents between him and Marie. "Hey," he said briefly, keeping the edge of caution out of his voice.
Logan looked at Marie for a moment -- she seemed so young, tonight -- and then focused on Nathan again. He smelled...hm. "Just headin' out for a walk an' heard y'had somethin' of mine in here. Thought I'd see what she was up to."
"Not waking you up what what I was doing, Logan," Marie said tartly. Her expression was a blend of affection, exasperation, and amusement. "Since you're obviously not sleeping now, though, perhaps I'll harass you instead."
Nathan blinked, repressing a slight smile. He was definitely not getting in the middle of this. "Thanks for the visit, Marie," he said, moving the Clancy book to his lap and deliberately not looking at Logan. "And for the offer of a jailbreak."
"Then c'mon an' let th'nice man get back t'is book," Logan muttered, noting the novel reappearing on Nathan's lap. He suppressed a grin and jerked his head toward the hall. "Yknow y'can always wake me up. 's not like I'm sleepin' all that good anyhow."
"Rest well, Nathan." Marie stopped to pat his shoulder gently once as she crossed the room to Logan, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. -something of yours?- she mouthed, and pointed to the hall imperiously.
Logan stepped out into the hall and waited until Marie had followed, then closed the door behind them. "What? I never showed y'that email from Marko...?"
(Title and tag: I can't forget by Leonard Cohen)
Unable to sleep, Marie got out of bed and slipped upstairs, her feet barely touching the floor. As she passed room 312, Nathan's room now, she heard a loud thud and spun about. The door was open a crack and she tapped on it. "Nathan? Are you okay?" she called in a soft, light voice.
Leaning over to pick up the book he'd dropped - Moira had somehow managed to dig up the latest Tom Clancy for him - Nathan paused, not recognizing the voice from the other side of the door. "Um--fine," he called back hesitantly. "You can come in if you want."
"Hi." The speaker, peeking cautiously around the door, was a pale, slender girl dressed in a simple, long white nightdress. Dark hair with a blaze of white at the left temple fell in dishevelled waves to her shoulders. "Can't sleep?"
Nathan smiled faintly. "I think I've been spending enough time unconscious lately, yeah," he said, retrieving the book and sitting back down in the armchair where he'd spent most of the day, on and off. Moira would have preferred him to stay in the bed, he knew, but he hated lying around. "Marie, right?" he asked, making a guess based on the physical description Moira had given him. The girl nodded, and he gestured tentatively at the chair across from his. "Do you want to sit down? I'm assuming I'm not the only one with insomnia."
"Marie's right. And, yes." She let herself in and crossed the room to curl up in the other chair like a cat, tucking the hem of her nightdress over small, bare feet with the toenails painted lavender to match her fingernails. "Or no, not insomnia. Dreams. But close enough. Company is good, I was just on my way to wake someone up for some but since you're here, I'll let him sleep."
"Glad to be of service, then." Nathan set the book on the chair's wide arm, smiling with some embarrassment as Marie's eyes flickered to it. "An old addiction," he confessed a bit sheepishly. "Moira keeps trying to tell me I should read historical novels or something instead. Apparently my definition of escapism leaves much to be desired."
Marie laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever works. At least there's no destruction of private property involved. Besides, if you have to think about what you're reading, it's hardly escapism, is it?"
Nathan couldn't help a grin. There was more to this girl that surface appearances would suggest; he had suspected that, from what he'd seen of her on the journaling system. "I like to laugh at his inaccuracies," he admitted. "I suppose that puts me in the same class as people who go to historical movies to point out the inaccuracies--although, come to think of it, I do that too."
Marie shook her head. "You must drive your date nuts," she said with mock disapproval. "Though I can see how some people might find it endearing."
"I remember watching 'Gladiator' with Moira," Nathan said. "Back not long after it first came out. We were in this little second-run theatre in Edinburgh--" He stopped, the smile coming back as he lost himself in the nostalgia for a moment. "When the Emperor mounts his horse, right at the beginning of the movie, I stood up and shouted 'Stirrups! They didn't have stirrups in the second century!'" He chuckled. "Moira threw popcorn at me for the rest of the movie every time I opened my mouth."
Marie covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes sparkling. "She must like you if all she threw was popcorn," she pointed out. "And they didn't have stirrups. But that's not the point, silly. Whatever happened to the willing suspension of disbelief?"
"I'm too stubborn, I suppose," Nathan said with a shrug, tapping his fingers lightly on the cover of the book. "But anyway." He eyed her for a moment, not quite sure where to take the conversation next. "Like I was saying on the journals, this is quite the place," he said lightly. "Hopefully I'll get a chance to see more of it once I'm on my feet a little more reliably."
"Any idea when that will be?" Marie was serious as suddenly as she'd been laughing.
"Not a clue," Nathan said candidly, ignoring the little flash of frustration he felt at the admission. "Moira's not even halfway through the very long list of tests she wants to run." He fell silent for a long moment, trying once again to come to terms with the idea of being poked and prodded for some indeterminate amount of time. Even when it was Moira doing it, the thought was far from appealing. "I'm liable to run off screaming before the week is out, just to warn you," he said, a bit more bitterly than he'd intended.
"I understand," Marie said with genuine sympathy. "There's almost nothing worse than not having control over yourself. Hurting other people with it, or making their lives harder is like a kick in the teeth on top of it. Then there's the self-imposed isolation just so you don't have to live with the guilt in case the worst case happens. It /is/ enough to make a person crazy. Look, if you need to get out, maybe we can work something out."
"I appreciate the offer," Nathan said, but knew he wouldn't be taking her up on it for a while yet. No point in pushing his luck. "It's been--hell, years since the last time I was in the States. Funny to be back, in a way."
"I didn't mean you'd have to be all better to get out of here for a bit." Marie shifted in her chair, putting her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand. "I just said we'd work something out. So you know." Her eyes were very dark and intense. "Even if you just want to go for a walk for a while or something. I could get you back here, no problems, and I don't mind. Okay?"
"Well, then I will definitely keep that in mind," Nathan said with a grateful look. "I'm not used to staying in one place anymore, so a change of scenery would be very helpful at some point if I'm liable to be here for a while." He laughed quietly. "Cabin fever and my humble self are generally a very bad combination."
"I'm tougher than I look," Marie admitted with a little smile. "And I have a particular sympathy for people who need to get out of here and can't. Were you out of the States..." she looked for the right word for a moment. "...voluntarily?" Her word choice and the twitch of her eyebrow spoke volumes.
Entirely too perceptive, this one. "No," he said calmly. "Avoiding old colleagues, actually. I--decided on a change of career, and they were reluctant to see me go." Nathan glanced at the window for a moment, and then back at Marie. "I let your professor and a couple of others know the details," he said quietly. "Wisdom already knows, of course. I don't see it being a problem, but--well, I'll keep an ear out. If I hear anything suggesting they know I'm here, I'll be gone before you can say 'Nathan who'?"
Marie nodded, quiet and solemn again. "I appreciate that a great deal. We just got the blood out of the carpets and filled in the bullet holes from the last incident." Her expression was utterly serious.
Nathan felt something close to contentment, for a moment. The cards were on the table, and everyone knew where they stood. Maybe he could actually relax and enjoy being here now. "I hope I don't have to pull the vanishing act," he said without thinking, staring back out the window. "Moira would kill me, for one. And--well, I've been on the move for a long time. Eventually there's part of you that just wants to stop."
Marie watched Nathan and her smile returned, just the ghost of it on her lips, and her eyes were understanding. "I hope you don't either," she said gently. "You look like you need your rest. And I don't mean sleep."
Logan rolled over in bed. Fucking nightmares. And he was out of Oreos. Dammit. A walk sounded good. The garden would be empty at this hour. He crawled out of bed and headed to the door. As he reached the hall, he stopped. Marie was...somewhere. He could hear her voice.
Nathan eyed the girl - no, young woman, he corrected himself - sitting across from him and returned her slight smile. "And you're older than you look," he said quietly. "In the ways that it matters, I mean."
Marie nodded, a little ruefully. "It adds up." She tapped her temple gently. "But thanks for noticing. A lot of people underestimate me and that just wastes all our time. Still, don't expect me not to dump snow down your collar at the first opportunity." Suddenly, she flashed him an impish grin.
Logan waited until he heard her voice again, then walked in that direction. It was only a few steps until he could smell her and her scent led him straight to room 312. Brow wrinkling in confusion, he banged on the door.
Nathan jumped as he heard someone hit the door. He'd been focusing on Marie, not paying enough attention---he had already started to concentrate, preparing to lash out with his telekinesis, before he realized what he was doing and stopped himself. "Yes?" he called out cautiously, trying to slow down his breathing. There was something odd about the presence on the other side of the door; that was why he hadn't noticed.
Marie was uncurling from her chair and leaning forward, one hand extended toward Nathan. "It's okay," she said soothingly. "Come on in, Logan."
Logan opened the door and walked inside far enough to lean on the door frame. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his sweatshirt and nodded at the stranger across the room. "Hey. Don't mean t'interrupt."
"You're not." Marie's attention flicked from one man to the other as she got to her feet, gauging the tension levels. "This is Nathan, Logan. He was up so I stopped in on him to say hi."
Nathan eyed the newcomer, sizing up both him and the obvious undercurrents between him and Marie. "Hey," he said briefly, keeping the edge of caution out of his voice.
Logan looked at Marie for a moment -- she seemed so young, tonight -- and then focused on Nathan again. He smelled...hm. "Just headin' out for a walk an' heard y'had somethin' of mine in here. Thought I'd see what she was up to."
"Not waking you up what what I was doing, Logan," Marie said tartly. Her expression was a blend of affection, exasperation, and amusement. "Since you're obviously not sleeping now, though, perhaps I'll harass you instead."
Nathan blinked, repressing a slight smile. He was definitely not getting in the middle of this. "Thanks for the visit, Marie," he said, moving the Clancy book to his lap and deliberately not looking at Logan. "And for the offer of a jailbreak."
"Then c'mon an' let th'nice man get back t'is book," Logan muttered, noting the novel reappearing on Nathan's lap. He suppressed a grin and jerked his head toward the hall. "Yknow y'can always wake me up. 's not like I'm sleepin' all that good anyhow."
"Rest well, Nathan." Marie stopped to pat his shoulder gently once as she crossed the room to Logan, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. -something of yours?- she mouthed, and pointed to the hall imperiously.
Logan stepped out into the hall and waited until Marie had followed, then closed the door behind them. "What? I never showed y'that email from Marko...?"
(Title and tag: I can't forget by Leonard Cohen)
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