xp_logs | Moira and...Joe?

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Flip.

Flip.

Moira sped through the pages of notes on Nathan, hoping to catch something that she had missed. Anything. She was worried about him, again, like always. But this was beyond frustrating.

She should be able to fix this. She had to be able to fix this. It had worked last time, didn’t it? But that was the virus, something that she could battle with medicine and knowledge. This was beyond her control.

She scowled. Everything was achievable. It had to be. Failure in her was unacceptable.

When the phone rang, she almost didn’t hear it but on the third time, she finally found it under the pile of papers.

“MacTaggart.”

“Moira, how are you my dear?”

She froze, papers falling to the ground. It couldn’t…

“…Joe…”

“Glad to see you recognize my voice, Moira. It’s been a while.”

“What th’ bloody ‘ell do ye want?”

“Always straight to the point. No time for pleasantries?”

“Considerin’ there were no time fer pleasantries in our marriage, Joseph, ye’ll be damned lucky ta get any out o’ me now,” she snapped.

“Play nice, Moira.”

“What do ye want?” She gritted her teeth.

“Fine, if that’s the way you want to be. I want you to knock it off.” The voice on the other end of the phone sharpened. “Do you know how embarrassed I was to see you prancing about in that damned Mansion over in the States on the news a while back? It was one thing with the clinic, your pet project, but this? It’s a political disaster waiting to happen!”

“…excuse me?”

“I’m in the Parliament now, Moira, you –must- know that. And with your refusal to relinquish the name ‘MacTaggart’, it looks bad on –me-. Now, you must understand where I’m comi…”

“Joseph MacTaggart, you bloody bastard!”

The chair clattered to the floor as Moira stood violently to her feet. She had heard enough.

“Dinnae go ‘bout tryin’ ta tell yer EX-wife what ta do ye condecendin’ bloody fuckin’ bastard! I’ll do whatever th’ ‘ell I want ta do an’ yer career be DAMNED!”

“Moira, listen to yourself! Is this any way for the Lady Kinross to speak?”

“The Lady Kinross will speak ‘owever th’ ‘ell she wants ta speak,” she bellowed. “I gave up tryin’ ta listen ta ye after Kevin was born. When ye walked out on us, ye yellowed bellied chicken shit. An’ ye cut all ties ta me when ye served me th’ divorce papers three days after me baby’s death! Papers I ‘ad been sendin’ ta ye since ye left me! But no, ‘twas too helpful ta yer buddin’ career ta be married ta a world renowned scientist, aye? But after Kevin’s deat’, ye decided me name’s useful ‘ad run it’s course. But dinnae EVER AGAIN try an’ tell me what ta do! ”

“Kinross, watch yourself.” Joe’s temper snapped a little. “I’m becoming quite the political player these days and if I decide that the little center is too much trouble to keep around…”

“Ye’ll what? Snap yer fingers an’ *poof*, make it disappear?” She sneered. “Ye’ll never ‘ave tha’ much political leverage. Most o’ Britain loves the center, ye saw th’ ruckus they made when…”

Sudden enlighten is never an easy thing to handle.

“Ye FUCKIN’ BASTARD! If I find out ye ‘ad anythin’ ta do wit’ th’ center bein’ raided, I’ll pull yer brains out through yer bloody arsehole!”

“Now, now, Moira, dear…”

“DINNAE DEAR ME YE GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKIN’ ENGLISH BASTARD! I will chew ye up an’ spit ye out so fast tha’ even yer lawyers would be ‘ard pressed to recognize yer scaly hide. If’n I find out tha’s what happened, it’ll ‘it th’ British press an’ then where will yer lovely influence be? Backin’ away as quickly as bloody possible!”

Joe stuttered. “Moira…calm down…I just wanted a civil talk…”

“WE HAVENA ‘AD A CIVIL TALK SINCE KEVIN WAS BORN! When I nearly died on tha’ table after givin’ birt’ ta ‘im, ye took one look at what he could do an’ ye left!”

She paused.

“Ye ever call me again or try anythin’ against what’s mine, ye’ll deal wit’ me. Personally. Face ta face. An’ I’ll ‘urt ye even more than when Rory broke yer damned nose.”

“This could be counted as a th…”

“Oh, aye, I can see ye runnin’ out wit’ me threatenin’ ye an’ admittin’ this phone call. Aye, right, g’ head ye squeamish wee bastard, I’d like ta see ye try. An’ Joe? Go ta fuckin’ HELL!”

She slammed the phone down and in a moment of pure rage threw the entire thing against the wall. Moira breathed hard as she watched the broken phone. Spinning on her heel, she headed towards the gun cabinet on the opposite wall. A few minutes to open the security locks and then her father’s favorite weapon was in her hands.

Moira took a deep breath and grabbed the carrying satchel for it. She was angry, but not stupid. She locked the cabinet again and turned around, heading straight for the target practice area.