Charles/Moira

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Moira paused in front of the door to Charles' study and sighed. She was not looking forward to this. All she wanted was to go back to her room and watch over Nathan. But she didn't have much of a choice. She -was- worried there would be some side effects and as stubborn as she could be, she knew she needed it checked out. She raised a hand and knocked on the door, grumbling a little bit.

Charles opened the door, smiling wryly. "You, of all people, Moira, may certainly burst in on me unannounced. The drunken debauchery isn't scheduled until Tuesday."

"Jus' makin' sure I 'adn't forgotten th' dates o' tha'," she responded, shaking her head as she stepped in and shut the door behind her. "Never -can- tell wit' th' way thin's 'appen 'ere."

"I would likely find a a book thrown at my head if I mislaid your invitation--and I hear that you favor Tom Clancy these days, so I'm sure you'll understand that I'm unwilling to take the risk." He cocked a concerned eyebrow. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm -never- livin' tha' one down," she muttered. Moira shrugged. "'bout as well as I can." She paused. "A wee bit uncertain," she admitted, rubbing her head. There was still a slight ache.

"Perfectly understandable. Telepathic incidents can be remarkably unsettling. I suspect, however, that Nathan would cut off his own leg before harming you intentionally, and intent counts for much."

"Aye, it does." Her features soften. "'e was drownin', Charles an' I didn't know what else ta do." She sighed and sat on the edge of the couch. "I'm jus'...worried I did somethin' ta meself."

"Well, that's what I'm here for. May I?"

"Please," she whispered, really more concerned about Nathan's reaction if she damaged something.

"Very well, then." He smiled. "Relax, please, Moira, I'm hardly going to bite. May I offer you a cup of tea, or would your coffee take offense at the infidelity?"

Moira smirked and tried to relax. "Nay...I jus' want ta -know-."

"As you wish." Charles sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. "This should only take a moment, and if you feel any discomfort I will be most distressed to learn I've lost my touch."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The ball was in his court now.

The touch of Charles' mind was, as always, gentle and sure; his scan was thorough, and firm, but without even the slightest hint of impropriety or violation. After a moment, he opened his eyes, steepling his fingers in his lap. "That's very curious."

She cracked open an eye. "Charles, when doin' a scan an' ye say tis verra curious, tha's nay a good sign. I didna boil me own brain did I?"

He chuckled. "Oh, no, nothing of the kind. You and Nathan are . . . you seem to have established a link. It's not unheard of--Elizabeth shared something broadly similar with Alison, before her surgery--but it's not often done consciously."

Moira jerked back slightly. "A link? Is it verra stron'?"

"Not particularly--at least, not yet. The . . . initiating motivation, for lack of a better term, was yours, and as you are not, yourself, a telepath, the link simply exists, and is mostly quiescent. The two of you may find yourselves more aware of each other, but little more." He considered Moira curiously. "I will say, however, that such links can be unpredictable."

"'ow? Will it 'urt 'im?" There was no question of herself.

"Neither of you," Charles amended firmly, "should be in any danger. The link may strengthen, or disappear on its own, and its . . . specific manifestations may be disconcerting at times, but it was born of your concern and care for him, and that will remain its defining characteristic--as long as those feelings remain."

For her part, Moira laid a hand over her eyes. "What should I...prepare for?" she asked weakly, ignoring that stupid blush on her neck.

"For now, only the heightened awareness I mentioned. You may find yourself picking up on his moods more easily--perhaps even when he's some distance away, although I think the bond is too weak for that, at present. Nathan will almost certainly find it a great deal easier to contact you telepathically, and over a greater range." Charles frowned. "I would strongly advise you to tell him what I've just told you as soon as possible, and refer him to me if he wishes further explanation; if he were to detect the link on his own, and decide to break it . . ." Charles paused. "The link may occasionally prove inconvenient, but if it is meant to subside, it will do so. Breaking it intentionally is much more likely to have adverse consequences."

She shuddered, remembering the pain from last night. "I can only imagine." She nodded. "Aye, I'll tell 'im right away. 'e needs ta know."

"Good." Charles smiled, his eyes alight with amusement. "I'll be very interested to see how this situation progresses; please do keep me apprised of any further development."

"Trust me, I will." She shifted a glance at him. "Yer amused..."

"Well, yes. Some of the possibilities of this sort of connection are . . . entertaining. At your expense, I'm afraid. Not least--what _would_ the students make of it if they were to find out?"

"Charles, -dinnae- make me find a Tom Clancy novel," she warned and then threw her hands in the air. "We're already bein' teased as much as it is, even though there's nothin'."

"Mm. I'd hardly call a strong friendship and a deep mutual respect 'nothing,' but as you will."

"Yer impossible."

Charles smiled. "So I've been told. By you, more often than not."

"More often than not, aye," she smiled and shook her head. "I cannae believe this is happenin'."

"Welcome to the madhouse, as Lorna would put it."

"Wha's next, aliens?" She laid her head back on the couch.

"Sanity, I devoutly hope. We've had everything else."

"True, sanity would be nice." She eyed Charles. "Since we know wha' this is, do I 'ave ta go ta Bartlett?"

"Mm . . . yes, I think so. The link itself is entirely psionic in nature, but we should still eliminate the possibility of associated damage." Charles returned her look with a sunny smile. "I'm afraid there's no getting around it. Your continued good health is, of course, my first concern."

Moira gave him a Look. "Ye jus' know 'ow bad o' a patient I am," she grumbled.

"I feel confident that you will improve with practice."

"'opefully I willnae -'ave- ta practice. Why do ye torture me so?"

"Because in these, my twilight years, I must take my amusements where I find them?" He smiled. "Cheer up, Moira, I don't _think_ she'll restrict you from coffee."

"She knows better. Do I 'ave ta do it right after this or can it wait until tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow should suffice--that is, unless you're still feeling any residual ache, or if you suffer another nosebleed. I think I can trust to your discretion."

She nodded. "I won't be stupid. Stubborn, aye, nay stupid. I jus'...need ta speak wit' Nathan first."

"That strikes me as an excellent idea."

"Ye know, on some level, I think yer mockin' me."

"What a thing to say."

She shook her head in amusement and stood up. "But I'm right."

"Yes, but there's no need to parade it about." Charles smiled. "Give Nathan my regards."

"I will. Charles, thank ye." And with that, she slipped out the door and headed back to her room.