xp_logs | Log: Moira/Nathan

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Moira took the stairs one at a time, carefully. They were being tricky little bastards, the stairs were, so it was a little bit of slow going. Because of the attack, she hadn't caught any sleep that night. Even once the MedLab had quieted down to just the staff, the few injured and Marie-Ange watching Remy, she had been unable to get to sleep. So she walked the halls for the rest of the night and once the residents starting waking up, she just...went with the flow, so to speak. Add on to the fact that she hadn't slept well when she was watching Nathan...

She shook her head to clear it as she reached the top of the stairs. Moira had pulled worse back at the clinic. Two nights with no sleep was nothing she kept reminding herself. She stopped outside of Nathan's door, at last, and knocked. "Nathan, 'tis Moira," she called out, waiting for him to open the door. With everyone on edge, it was probably better this way.

The door swung open. "Get in here, you stubborn woman," Nathan said from where he was sitting on the bed, the laptop she had given him open on the bed beside him. "You might be interested to know that you had a grand total of another fifteen minutes before I went down there to get you."

Moira realized that this would be a grand opportunity to say something smart assed. But she simply settled for sticking out her tongue at him. "Oh ye o' little faith," she said, not realizing her words were slurring slightly. "Jus' came up ta see how -ye- were doin' before I went back on watch. Told Marie-Ange I'd run some tests on Remy again soon." She stepped fully into the room and swung the door shut. Nathan had always been one for privacy.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "You are not doing any such thing," he said forcefully. He closed the laptop, setting it on the bedside table - he had been catching up on exactly what had happened, via the journaling system, but that could wait - and eyed her skeptically. "Come over here and sit down," he told her in a tone that wasn't much short of the sort of order he would have given on the battlefield.

"I am too," she retorted. She eyed him warily. "Yer tryin' ta get me ta rest...I've got work ta do, Nathan." Whining. She was -not- whining. Really. "Lot's o' work, what wit' Remy bein' dead ta th' world." Moira waved a hand in his direction. "Need ta do another read up, jus' in case I mis...." She didn't realize she yawned. "Missed anythin'. An'...rounds? I think I 'ave ta do more rounds."

Nathan gritted his teeth, seizing on the surge of anger and using it. He stood, crossing the distance between them and scooping her up in his arms without another word. She yelped and smacked him, but she was tired enough that there wasn't much force behind it. "There are two other doctors who can hold the fort, and a whole horde of very enthusiastic teenagers who can be drafted to clean up and watch monitors. You are staying here." He put her down, or actually, half-dropped her on the bed. "You are staying here and sleeping, and I will knock you out and TK you to the bed if I have to."

Moira bounced rather ungracefully on the bed and glared up at Nathan. "Why ye blasted..." Her mind suddenly pinged that she was on something soft and comfy and oh god wouldn't it be good to just lay back? But she gritted her teeth and tried to sit up fully. "I jus'...need ta keep goin'." Her head was pounding suddenly and it was becoming very hard to focus. Taking care of herself hadn't exactly been on the top of her to do list lately she realized and she whimpered slightly.

"For pity's sake, woman, you look worse than I do." Nathan moved back around to the other side of the bed and sat down. "Don't think I won't do it," he said, breathing hard. "Knock you out, I mean. I can manage that much."

"If I'm lookin' as bad..." She grimaced and rubbed her head. "Maybe jus' a little lay down," she admitted finally, finally listening to both Nate and the voice going "Soft! Bed! Soft! Lay yer bloody ass down, ye daft woman!" in her head. She winced as she stretched out a little on the bed. "'Tis nay a good noise when yer back... *YAWN*...pops," she mumbled.

"No," Nathan muttered, stretching out beside her. "It's not. Take it from someone who has various things that pop when they shouldn't. Very bad." He turned on his side, watching her as her eyes fluttered shut.

She curled a little more, her hands relaxing into closed fists with the thumbs tucked into them. "Aye," she breathed, "nay verra good...at all...mmm..." Moira shivered slightly and scrunched up; it was colder in here than in her room.

There was an extra blanket folded at the bottom of the bed. Nathan tugged at it with his mind, pulling it up over Moira. "You do too much," he said, frowning at her. He reached out and adjusted the top of the blanket, letting his hand rest on her shoulder for a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

Warm. Two things that were warm, actually. She snuggled closer to them both. "Nay...do t' little," she mumbled, not really sure what she was responding too. "T' much t' do..."

"There's time," Nathan said slowly, and watched his hand, seemingly of its own accord, reach up and brush the hair out of her eyes. "You can't burn yourself out. Won't get any of it done that way."

Moira made a small, contented sound and unconsciously nuzzled slightly into his hand. Her brain was quite happy where it was. Warm, safe, comfortable and someone was petting her head. Yes, this was much better than where she had been a minute ago. "Mmm...jus'needtakeepgoing" Whatever little part of her brain had been coherent abruptly shut off and she edged closer to the heater. Rumbly heater. Someone had given her a rumbly heater. How nice.

"Guess I don't have to knock you out after all," Nathan murmured. He should be pulling away, tensing up at how close she was to him, but that set of instincts was being awfully slow on the trigger today. He hadn't had much sleep either - he might not be much of a telepath, but the atmosphere in the mansion had been enough to ensure he couldn't relax. Hell, he hadn't had much sleep since he'd woken up from Moira's sedative. The catnaps interrupted by nightmares weren't particularly restful.

He slid an arm around her tentatively, feeling an uncertain smile pull at his lips as she gave another one of those contented noises. This--wasn't so bad. It was Moira, after all. She was safe.

She was being pulled towards the rumbly heater. It was slightly quieter now, but just as warm. She managed to open her eyes once more and focused on the chest that she was suddenly curled next to. She decided that the arm around her waist was incredibly comfortable and so was the chest. She snuggled much closer, putting an arm across Nathan's chest and nestling her head on his shoulder. This was...very nice, a part of her dozing mind decided.

Nathan silenced the part of him that was - very distantly - protesting, and closed his eyes. His last thought was that it hadn't taken very much convincing after all. A minor miracle...

----

Doug had been right. Mental checklists made everything easier. Herd children to class, change clothes, make sure roommates weren't freaking out, check on Remy, who she wasn't worried about one little bit, no sir, go to class. Halfway through the list, and she hadn't had breakfast yet. Marie-Ange hadn't wanted to bother either Dr. McCoy or Dr. Bartlett, so Dr. MacTaggart was the next best thing.

Unfortunately, her office was empty of Scottish doctors. There was no answer at her door, and more telling, no smell of the lifeform that poured like coffee. Marie-Ange frowned, and for a moment, convinced herself that worrying about the Cajun was likely pointless. It didn't last long at all, the memory of the few glimpses she had caught of the young man, and more importantly, the call for plasma that Dr. Bartlett had made replaying in her mind.

If Dr. MacTaggart wasn't in her office, or answering her door, where would she be at this time of the morning? There hadn't been anyone making faces coming out of the kitchen, so that wasn't it. No coffee meant no doctor. Marie-Ange wandered down the hall, towards the staircase, intent on heading back to her room to grab her books when she passed Mr. Marko's old room.

Hadn't someone mentioned Dr. MacTaggart's friend staying there? Maybe he knew where she was. It couldn't hurt to check, she thought. At worst, it would be empty, and no one would answer. Marie-Ange backed up to the door, and knocked quietly.

She hadn't expected the door to swing open a few inches on her second, louder knock. She definitely hadn't expected to see Dr. MacTaggart, snuggled under a blanket, and also under the arm of a very large, very asleep someone, who Marie-Ange guessed was Mr. Dayspring. It wasn't Mr. Marko in any case, thank the heavens.

~Ew.~ Marie-Ange made a mental note to never associate sleeping, arms, and Mr. Marko in the same thought again. Then, she eased the door closed as quietly as possible, took a few slow steps towards the stairs, then scurried down as fast as she could without actually running. ~Kitty's not gonna believe this. Jamie's not gonna believe this. *I* don't believe this.~ She thought. ~I wonder if I can add onto that bet about the teaching.~

-----

Moira woke up with a bit of a jolt at the sound of the door and then froze. She remembered being threatened if she didn't fall asleep but the rest was kind of fuzzy. But...her eyes widened when she realized Nathan was -cuddling- her. His arm was tucked tightly around her waist and she had had her head on his shoulder and...yep ...she checked, she had him in quite the glomp. She blushed and then softened considerably. She could try to slip away but...this was very, very nice. Too nice to spoil by trying to get out of it.

She eased herself back down against him as she started to drift off again. She tossed a leg over his and snuggled closer, figuring why waste the opportunity? For someone as large and musclar as Nathan was, he was incredibly comfortable. Besides... it was incredibly adorable to see him like this. She smiled as she fell back asleep again.