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[x-shinobi.livejournal.com]

Set after chatting with Alison but before this e-mail. Hank dutifully pays Shinobi a house call, and over the course of their discussion, Shinobi's ability to bottle finally goes *pop* as the past week finally proves to be too much for him. He's quick to stuff the proverbial cork back in, and lets his serious brooding wait until he's shuffled Hank off to bed, but it's cute anyway.



Keeping his promise to Alison had been very, very easy - getting a snack and running back to hide in the suite he shared with Marie was a very attractive idea, especially since his roomate was off with Logan until tomorrow. Shinobi's seated in the living room between the suite's two bedrooms, with the book of Machiavelli he'd been given the evening previous open in his lap. He can only make himself read for a few minutes before he slaps it closed, tossing it towards the table with a frustrated noise before raking his hands roughly back through his hair.

It'd been a long day. And it was looking to be a long night, as well. But at least he was fed, and free to roam outside the confines of the basement for a while. Even if that didn't mean he was out of important work to do. Thus, he finds himself at the door Shinobi is to be found behind, and he pauses to adjust his glasses before rapping knuckles crisply on the surface.

Shinobi blinks in confusion at the knock before his mind catches up with the rest of him. Oh, yeah. Getting back to his feet, he tries to straighten his hair out a little on his way to the door, taking a deep breath to compose himself before drawing it open and flashing a smile. "Hi, doc. Thanks for coming up."

Tired though he may be, Hank isn't inclined to show it, and his face splits in a cheery grin. "Oh, no trouble, Shinobi. Truth to tell, I'm simply overjoyed to get out of the basement for a while. One can only take the confinement for so long, you know."

"I'd offer to hole up down there in your stead, but I don't think I'm qualified," Shinobi replies, seeming genuinely disappointed with this fact as he steps aside to clear the doorway. "You want a drink or anything? The 'fridge is all nice and stocked."

Hank makes his way in with his trademark three-to-four-limbed amble, shaking his head in a polite negative. "Thank you, but I must decline. I'm still wired from the caffiene infusions, and truth to tell, I'm not sure mixing drinks is wise at this stage.. in any case, you needed help with some matter, I believe."

"I had to offer. Alison would have me smote if I didn't." Closing the door once the blue-furred MD is inside, Shinobi turns to slowly wander towards the kitchenette, to get himself a drink even if Hank doesn't want one. "Ah, yeah. My phasing's got something of an additional effect I didn't know about, and I want to find out if I can shut it off."

With an amused grin, Hank peers about for a spot to perch or otherwise make himself comfortable. "Alison has that sort of effect, I agree... Ah. I see. Ever the quandary we are faced with, at least when we suddenly face new abilities. What sort of effect are you experiencing?"

"I put a hand through a man's chest and he dropped dead." He says it with an emotionless, clinical sort of air, tugging the refridgerator open so that he could distract himself with rummaging around for something to drink.

This earns a slightly surprised expression, which quickly fades to a thoughtful pursing of lips as the information rolls around in his head. "I take it you were working intangibly at the time, as a hand bassing through a man's chest under normal conditions would be expected to provide such a result." It's a question, but more in the way of confirmation.

"Yessir. Sorry, I should have specified." Shinobi makes a quiet, unhappy sound as he closes the refridgerator, turning to cross towards the sofa empty handed.

A dismissive wave, and Hank finally settles on a chair to crouch upon while mulling over the puzzle posed. "Quite alright. It's a fair assumption, but i wanted to be certain the facts are straight. But with that in mind... are you certain that your intangible state is truly intangible? Ah... that is, what I'm getting at, is that sufficient matter passing through one body, say, across a vital organ, might very well disrupt what is passed through. Effects would depend on your exact aim, though... have you ever passed through or been passed through *without* killing the other party? Say, avoiding fisticuffs, or similar?"

Shinobi drops down to sit on the sofa, frowning in thought and absently glancing towards his discarded book. "I'm actually not sure," he admits after a moment, propping his chin up in a hand with an unmistakably tired sigh. "Probably, but I'm having a hard time keeping my head on straight today, so I couldn't say for sure."

The blue-furred doctor nods slowly, mulling it over in his head. "That might be a key piece of information, but naturally, I wouldn't recommend experimentation. However, if opportunity presents, try to pay some careful attention to the particulars. There may also be some tests we could run to try and rule out options, but perhaps not to a conclusive end."

"Tests are good," Shinobi agrees, straightening up just long enough to sink back against the sofa's cushions, bringing up both hands to rub at his face. "The first time it happened, it was an accident, while we were trying to get Yana back. Hand went through one of the bad guys' heads. It looked so confused.."

"Hmmm... Interesting," comes the comment. He appears to be in a full-on mulling-over of the situation, if the expression is any indication. "And in some ways puzzling. So far, the theory holds, though. So until we get some more resolution on this puzzle, I recommend being careful with your intangibility when possible. Situations like this past night, of course, are another story entirely."

"No more shortcutting through the floor to get to class," Shinobi agrees, drawing in a deep before letting his hands fall back into his lap. "It was nice feeling useful, last night," he says suddenly, peering down at his hands with a faint frown. "I could finally do something to help, with visible results, you know? And it wasn't just a fluke. But it wasn't enough anyway.. I mean, if Sarah were anybody else, anybody else, she'd have been killed twice in the last three days, and I couldn't have done anything but watch like an idiot either time."

Shinobi receives a long regard, before Hank finally takes a stab at the sudden outpouring, with a smoothly level voice. "Shinobi, I realize it's not precisely the easiest thing in the world to do, but one of the days, you're going to have to be content with the fact that sometimes, doing everything you can possibly do has to be enough."

"I've accepted it, but it doesn't make it any easier," Shinobi mutters, sitting rigidly in place for a moment before whispering a quiet curse and quickly leaning forward to swipe a Kleenex from the box sat on the table for just such an occasion.

Hank nods sympathetically, letting the curse and the Kleenex both pass unremarked. "Unfortunately, it rarely does. It is, perhaps, regrettable that there doesn't seem to be anything that *does* make it easy, or if there is, and you find it, do me the favor of letting me on on the secret." He adjusts his glasses. "Of course, just because you haven't been able to save her from everything doesn't mean you haven't from anything. And from my vantage point, I'd say you've probably saved her in more than one way, in a more meaningful fashion that you could possibly have hoped to acheive out in this scuffle the other night."

Shinobi grunts quietly as he slumps back against the cushions, the tissue making a quick pass over his eyes before he rests both hands in his lap again, studying the flimsy paper as he picks at an undamp corner. "I appreciate it, Henry, but I don't think the pep talk's going to help," he murmurs unsteadily, giving his head a faint shake. "I'm sorry. I'm usually much more together than this. It's just.. been a week, and today, and.. ugh."

Another nod, because he understands *that* sentiment all too well. "Yes.... I hear it's going around. But effective pep talk or no, in all seriousness, I think it would do you good to step back and look at what you've done for the young woman. It's really quite remarkable." Hank gives a small wave. "But, that's probably more than sufficient on the subject, and we have much work to set out on in the near future. Hunt me dow-- no, on second thought, given the way things were today... I'll flag you down, instead. probably easier. We'll see what we can do about getting to the bottom of this worrisome side effect as quickly as possible."

"I should be easy enough to find," Shinobi nods, smiling gratefully towards Hank and very subtly sniffling. No need to completely immasculate himself in front of the good doctor, after all. "Just tell me where to be and when to be there, and it's as good as done."

"Where is easy enough to predict. Medlab, as per usual. We shall probably repair to one of the other laboratories for the main thrust of the exploration, however. As to when... That's highly depedant on exactly when I can finally toddle my great fuzzy self off to become horizonally-inclined. Mostly likely just after that, assuming no further crises erupt-- please, let it be so." Hank speaks with as close to a prayerful tone in the sort-of-plea as one might ever hear from him.

"Alison told me to make you sleep once we were done," Shinobi observes with a wry grin, quirking an eyebrow as he regards the fuzzy blue doctor. "Surely, you won't go and do more work, thus opening me up to her bitter wrath?"

With a grin, Hank shakes his head ruefully. "My dear boy, you have nothing to fear. trust me when I say she'll be all to happy to land the full force of her blame on my copious shoulders. Fortunately, they are broad and accustomed to such great weights. But rest assured, I fully intend on catching sleep quite soon. I have some small amount of work to finish prior to turning in, but aside from that, the mattress, couch, floor, or whatever happens to be handy calls most loudly.

Normally, that form of address would upset him - but Hank says it affectionately, which makes it vastly different than the way Shinobi's used to hearing it. Enough so that his smile widens a touch. "I suppose that's fair enough," he acceeds, nodding his head to himself. "I should probably let you go do that so you have time to sleep.. need to send a quick e-mail or two first, but I think I'll collapse shortly thereafter myself."

Another rueful grin crosses the room, and Hank nods a bit. "As much as I would prefer to stay away from the basement for a while in favor of conversation, I likely should get on with the rest of it and sleep. It's been a fair bit of time since I last had the opportunity."

"I'll drag you out to the city for a coffee or something later to make it up to you," Shinobi offers, discarding his tissue before pushing himself to his feet with a brief, unsteady wobble. "I owe Alison coffee, too, but I don't know if I could survive both of you at the same time. I'll figure that out once I've recovered from the last week."

Hank throws a fully natural grin at that last, shifting from the chair towards the door in a much more stead fashion. But he pulls strange lengths of sleepless days all the time. He's used to operating under deprivation by now. "Oh, I shan't think it that bad. Mostly sit back and be amused as we level the batteries at each other and have a go and all that. Minimal splash damage, all things considered." Of course, that's really exactly what Shinobi's probably worried about withstanding. Cheerful playfulness meets playful cheerfulness and on the other side of the world, Russia spontaneously combusts.

"She'd inevitably decide I was having far too much fun at her expense and re-aim the batteries," Shinobi replies with a slow shake of his head, rubbing his temples a moment before carefully making his way towards the door, unwilling to show just how unsteady he's feeling. Bastard swimmy head. "I'm.. not entirely sure Amanda's going to want me along to London anymore, so I should have plenty of time to survive beind stuck with the pair of you, provided Sarah doesn't decide a road trip sounds like a good idea."

Dreadfully curious to know why the change in plans. Doubly so this road trip being alluded to, though mostly because Sarah and road trips, so far as he's aware, go together approximately as well as peanut butter and mayonaise on wheat. But asking after it... no, not really any of his business, thank you, please drive through. "Ah, well, this is likely true." Meanwhile, catching how much Shinobi is trying very hard not to sway, he manages to open the door for himself without making it too obvious that he's sparing the other the hassle. "In any case, get some rest, Shinobi. If we're to do tests tomorrow, it may end up being somewhat rigorous, and you'll need to be in tolerable form." A pause. "As well I, so I should do well to take the advice myself.

Shinobi doesn't even realize Hank's the one who opened the door, lifting one hand to take the doorknob once it's been released with a simple nod. "I don't know if I'll sleep particularly well, but I will try," he promises, managing a smile. "Thanks again. For coming up, and putting up with me."

"Tish-tosh, lad. Hardly 'putting up with'. We all have our days, and you're hardly in a position to claim prize as the most extreme. I'll see you tomorrow in the mor-- afternoon. Late afternoon, unless I miss my guess, but I've got a pretty good bead on it, and I think it's dead to rights."

"Late afternoon sounds good," Shinobi agrees, hoping his brain isn't so muddled that his mental note will get lost under the mess. "Just give a hollar when you're ready for me. Assuming I haven't decided to become a hermit, I'll be all yours."