(no subject)

[x-shinobi.livejournal.com]

Friday, at lunchtime, Nathan's in the kitchen fetching Moira some coffee. Shinobi comes in after seeing Cain (which has yet to be logged - shhh), and the grizzled old mercenary and pretty-pretty heir get to talking, and *gasp* actually kind of bond.




The coffee was completely inadequate, Nathan thought, sniffing at it. Moira would either turn her nose up at it or give him that woeful look. Surely she kept her own stash somewhere around here, he thought, his gaze roaming the kitchen. Or maybe it was hidden away somewhere safe. That would make sense. Coffee was important, after all. Shaking his head - he was way too punchy, and he knew it was as much the post-psionic-rush letdown as it was the sleep-deprivation - he dumped the cup he had poured from the large coffeemaker into the sink. He'd go looking for her own coffee, he decided.

He sensed someone in the hall outside, and turned just in time to see Shinobi walk into the kitchen. The young man stopped for a moment, seeing him, and Nathan straightened, biting back a sigh. "Afternoon, Shinobi," he said, a mixture of regret and embarassment coloring the words. "I was going to come look for you a little later."

"I live to save people some trouble, Nathan," Shinobi replied, grinning tiredly as he continued into the kitchen and towards the refridgerator, rubbing his hands together to warm them up after his brief jaunt outside before he pulled the door open and leant over tolook for something to eat. "Honestly, you haven't anything to apologize to me for, so don't worry yourself about it. I do have a spot of advice for your future reference, though, if you're interested?" He looked up as he straightened, a loaf of wheat bread in hand.

"You're being very decent about this. I appreciate that," Nathan said slowly, rinsing out the coffee cup and turning to put it in the dishwasher. "And shoot, with the advice. Although if it's to step away from the laptop when I'm out of my head with sleep deprivation and running on a telepathic high, I think I figured that part out." He turned back towards the young man, smiling wryly.

"Despite what the majority may believe, I *was* being an impartial party," Shinobi observes, closing the 'fridge after snatching the jelly, setting the bread on the counter before moving to claim himself the jar of peanut butter. "Everyone had the best of intentions. They just didn't all mesh well. And, as for the advice, here's *why* they didn't mesh well.." He looked over his shoulder, mirroring the wry smile. "Just.. keep in mind that you're in a school full of kids who've been under attack bloody well near constantly for the last two years. Longer, in some cases. Physical, verbal, and so forth. With very few exceptions, people here fall into defensiveness very, very easily, and even if you didn't mean to sound threatening, you kind of did, in a vague and roundabout sort of way." He shrugged helplessly. "People here have been threatened for too long to just sit and let someone do it to them, especially in what is supposed to be their safe haven. So maybe next time, stick to 'Moira needs some alone time, please' without the 'did I mention I could juggle M-1 tanks with my mind? You don't weigh that much, do you?' on the end."

Nathan considered that for a moment. "Fair enough," he allowed finally, squelching the part of him that grumbled at being lectured by a teenager. Said teenager had a point, and besides, he had already acknowledged that he had lost his temper and shouldn't have. Cherishing any resentment at having it pointed out to him would be childish. "I won't say that at the time I didn't mean to be threatening," he pointed out, deciding that it was best to be straightforward. "But I will say that I would not have followed through unless someone had actually come knocking on the door with bad intentions. Although I like to think I would have exercised some restraint, even under those circumstances, that person would not have gotten in that room." He took a deep breath, aware suddenly that the anger was still there, beneath the protective urge. He suspected it would be a while before it faded completely, but he was not about to let it out again. "And that, I'm afraid, I'm not going to apologize for."

"I wouldn't ask you to. If our positions were reversed, I'd not apologize for protecting someone who was very obviously hurting either." With a grin, he moved back towards the counter, and set about the task of preparing himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The pinnacle of his cooking abilities, such as they are. "Ask Sarah sometime. I'm an over-protective, posessive arse to *end* over-protective, posessive arses, and if *anybody* here vehemently does not need protecting, it's her. One of the most capable people I've ever known." He waved the jelly-bearing butter knife dismissively, smiling to himself. "Has Emma had a chance to come to see you yet?" he asks, shifting mental gears.

"No," Nathan said, and started to search the cupboards, looking for Moira's coffee. It gave him something to do, in any case, which was good because despite how tired he was he still had far, far too much energy. "I suspect Moira's been keeping people away. I was reacting instinctively with my telekinesis to being startled. That's not entirely safe, obviously."

"True enough. Would hate for there to be any accidents." Of course, Shinobi was quietly confident in the knowledge that *Emma* would be the one to walk away from such an exchange, juggled tanks or no, but he kept that thought to himself. Blessed be the mental shielding classes. "She was very grateful for the list, but I'll let her go into that when she gets a chance to see you."

Nathan stopped, turning and giving him a level look. "Well, a telepath would have less to worry about in that sense," he said, wishing he was a little less unsettled. It would have been good to get a bit of a read on Shinobi, figure out exactly what was beneath the surface. Though his shields were good - Nathan could feel that much - so he might not have made much headway. "The way my shields are these days, she could probably reach in and stop me before I managed to get the piece of furniture or whatever off the ground." He shrugged slightly. "If it turns out Moira's been telling her to hold off, it's probably not necessary. If she's just been too busy--well, I'm not going anywhere."

Shinobi glanced up, blinking and arching an eyebrow at the level look Nathan was giving him before he shrugged it off, and returned his attention to the more immediate concern of food, smiling as he re-capped the jelly. "Well, happily, you're in a school. If you need to re-learn shielding, or simply improve it, or anything, you'll be hard-pressed to find a better place to do it."

"It's stress," Nathan said with a wave of his hand, not letting on how unsettled he was by the idea of voluntarily letting someone into his head. "The strain of these precognitive episodes of mine is messing with my psionic control. Hence the flying objects and the strained shields." He fell silent, wondering again how long it would be, if the situation continued to get worse, before he wasn't able to restrain the virus any longer. Shinobi was watching him, and Nathan felt a strange obligation to explain the undoubtedly bleak look he'd been wearing. "I was infected with an experimental virus several years ago," he said briefly, turning back to look for the coffee. "I use the telekinesis to keep it in stasis in my system. If my control deteriorates too badly, that's all she wrote. It's why I finally called Moira. The narcolepsy is annoying, but could have been tolerated."

He blinked in surprise at the sudden burst of honesty, looking towards Nathan as he returned his sandwich's various ingredients to their proper places. That had certainly been unexpected - the honesty moreso than what he was told, in a way. "You must have quite a lot of control over your telekinesis to be able to do that," he finally replied, regarding Nathan with a faint hint of awe to his features - easy to miss, but it's there. "Well.. you're under the same roof as two of the world's finest doctors. If anyone can help you out, it's Moira and Doctor McCoy."

Shifting the boxes in the cupboard in front of him in search of the elusive coffee, Nathan paused for a moment. "She saved my life," he said very quietly. "Moira, I mean. I first met her after the mission--when I was first infected. I remember her standing over my bed, telling me that I wasn't allowed to die." He shook his head slowly, closing the cupboard door and turning back towards Shinobi. "It wasn't easy," he went on. "To achieve that level of control. I was always good at the larger-scale stuff--that bit about the tanks in that post last night wasn't hyperbole, believe it or not. I once had to take out an Iraqi tank brigade from a distance. But that virus--" A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Moira wouldn't let me stop trying. You wouldn't believe the drills she had me do. She started with making me manipulate coins. By the end I was disassembling and reassembling the coins on a molecular level. At that point it was a question of proper visualization, and then I started to get the virus under control." He laughed softly. "It took six weeks. The drugs she was giving me - I still take them, because my telekinesis can't do it all - delayed the effects of the virus, but it couldn't stop it. If I'd taken even a week longer---but luckily, I had a Scottish madwoman cracking the whip every time I tried to stop."

"We all need someone to kick us into doing what we have to sometimes," Shinobi smiled, scooping up his sandwich and casting a quick look around before he hopped up to sit on the counter, absentmindedly kicking his feet. "It sounds to me like Moira's a good fit for you. No offense meant, mind, but you seem like a stubborn sort of bloke - it takes something like a Scottish temper to get even the most stubborn of people to fold like a deck of cards and do what they need to. I'm sure it helped that you *wanted* to beat it, though. Or, well.. want to, present tense." He paused briefly. "I'm overdue for coffee and food, obviously. My brain's not entirely operating just yet."

Nathan's mind hit the 'good fit' comment and stalled for a moment. It took him a while to absorb the rest of what Shinobi had said, and by then the younger man was giving him a faintly quizzical look. "I--think that's mutual," he said. "The brain thing, I mean." Shinobi raised an eyebrow, and Nathan cast around for some sort of distraction. "You don't know where she keeps her own coffee, do you? If I bring her up a cup of the vaguely coffee-like substance in that pot she'll give me that wounded look she gets."

Shinobi squinted in thought a moment before pointing towards one of the cabinets, one that had already been searched through. "I think she has some in there, with the other grounds. Just put it through the coffee maker a dozen times. Then it's recognizable as her coffee." He flashed a quick grin before taking a bit of his sandwich.

Nathan went over to look again. "I'm just--worried about her," he said tightly, searching for a bag that looked at all familiar. Although he didn't know if she could even get the kind of coffee she got in Scotland here. "Doesn't help that I see how much stress I'm adding to her life and I hate myself for doing it." He sighed, pulling out of the bags and deciding to opt for the multiple brewing. "Damn it, it just drives me insane to be this useless," he growled and headed over to the coffeemaker. "I don't suppose you have any budding telekinetics here that need tutoring? It's about the one thing I could do at the moment, and hell, it would probably do me good, too."

"I'm actually not sure," Shinobi admitted, scratching the side of his head as he cast a thoughtful look towards the doorway. "If you're genuinely interested in doing that, though, I'd definitely suggest letting Professor Xavier know. I'm sure he could find something for you to do to let you feel useful. He certainly did right by me, in that regard." He glanced towards Nathan, smiling wryly. "I don't much like feeling useless either. I think it's part of why I've got such a bloody busy schedule these days. Lets me feel like I'm actually doing something, you know?"

"I'll give it some thought," Nathan said, expertly setting up the coffeemaker. "Funny thing--Marie-Ange think I'm going to wind up teaching something. I'm inclined to believe a fellow precognitive."

"She's apparently correct, if you're asking me about any telekinetics that need tutoring," Shinobi observed, grinning towards Nathan as he had another bite of his sandwich.

"Actually, she thinks I'm going to put my law degree to use. The fact that she knows I have it is what startled me."

"Law degree? You and Worthington should talk. He's studying for his, last I heard." Shinobi glanced around the counter a bit, brightening somewhat as he spotted the napkins, and reached over to claim one for himself.

"I never practiced, of course. My education was a favor to me for being a good soldier." Nathan snorted, setting the coffee-maker to percolate. "So I picked international relations to understand how countries interacted and thus how to throw a monkey-wrench into the works, and law so that I could know exactly how far I could bend it before it broke. I thought I was being practical."

"That *was* practical. One can never have too many skills within their arsenal, too much knowledge at their disposal." He took a moment to finish off his sandwich before wiping his mouth and fingers with the napkin, which was then given a well-aimed toss towards the trash. "I've toyed with the idea of studying law once or twice, myself.. though I think it's more out of my enjoyment of Law & Order than anything else." He paused a moment. "The series, I mean."

"I've caught a little of that one--" Nathan frowned. "I forget which one it is. With the particularly intense lead detective."

"See, now, I prefer SVU," Shinobi replied, hopping back to his feet with a brief, impish smile. "That may just be due to the ADA and Detective Benson, though, I admit."

Nathan shook his head a little. "This conversation is going odd places," he said, "especially given where it started." He turned away from the coffee maker, facing Shinobi again. "I'm glad we had the chance to talk," he said, and meant it. Awkward moments aside, it felt startlingly good to have resolved this. Maybe it was finally sinking in that he was going to be here for a while; he couldn't lash out whenever the mood took him and then move on without bothering to clean up his mess. "I'll speak to Sarah as well. Calmly, I promise."

Shinobi nodded, smiling warmly as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I'm glad, too.. and I trust you, mate, no worries. The trick to talking with Sarah is patience, I think. Well, and not taking things personally. Seriously yes, personally no. She's good people, whether she'll admit it or not."

Nathan couldn't help smiling. "To tell you the truth, Shinobi, under any other circumstances, what she was saying last night would probably have made me take at least a bit of a liking to her right away. I'm generally rather fond of those with a healthy helping of attitude."

"Oh, you'll get along with her *fine* then," Shinobi laughed, cracking a grin. "The quickest way to her good side is respect, possibly aided along with the offering of a cigarette. I've always got an extra pack if you want to try that approach."

"We'll try the former," Nathan said dryly. "I hate to promote such a bad habit."