Friends of Tesla Dinner: Moira, Hank, Xavier (Guest Star Hank Pym)

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The awards:



Moira fidgeted in her chair. She wasn't used to being in the spotlight and she, Henry and Charles were right in the middle of the stage, seated behind the speaker's podium. She watched as Dr. Henry Pym, who was much shorter than she'd imagine, got up to present the awards.

"Ladies. Gentlemen. Doctors. And more doctors." Pym smiled with an easy grace. "I welcome you tonight to help me honor these three individuals. I believe that we, the Friends of Tesla, stand on the fringes of society for a reason. Without hindrance or fear of backlash, we forge ahead to do what must be done. And that is what we honor Dr. Xavier, Dr. McCoy and Dr. MacTaggart for tonight. First, Dr. Charles Xavier. Dr. Xavier's groundbreaking research on mutation _should_ be familiar to us all; tonight, however, we honor his pioneering study of the psychology of the psionically gifted."

Pym smiled roguishly. "And let me be the first to admit that in any gathering of great minds, Dr. Xavier stands tall."

Charles wheeled forward, one eyebrow raised sardonically. "Thank you, Dr. Pym. The compliment is doubly appreciated coming from someone of your towering intellectual stature. It is my hope that as our understanding of these gifts grows, so too will grow our acceptance of them, so that one day we may all live together in peace. I wish to thank the Friends of Tesla for this award; by it, I am reassured that the community of scientists, of knowledge-seekers, will help to lead the way. Thank you."

Pym advanced again, smiling wryly. "Thank you Dr. Xavier. And now, our next guest. Many of us know, or should know, Dr. McCoy's name. It's usually said with wry humor but also, always, with respect. Tonight, we honor the ever bouncing, gentle man behind me for his contributions to the study of biochemistry of mutants. Nearly single handedly, he has given us much insight into the nature of the mutation phenomenon and has brought us all to another level of understanding. Dr. McCoy?

Hank hadn't really desired to come this evening-- he was still in a bit of a funk after that mess with Betsy's unwelcome mental resident. But he was also determined to make a good night of this.

So it was with a smile firmly affixed on his face that he hauled himself out of the chair he'd managed to keep from perching on and approached the lectern, the smile becoming more natural as he took in the peerage present.

"Thank you, Dr. Pym. I'm afraid to say, I am left somewhat without words by the honor, but perhaps given my usual lack of brevity, it is for the best, lest we be here all night. There are many others, that I, and I'm sure my colleagues, feel warrant joining us up here. In fact, much of this room is among them, and thus this honor is even more moving for it. Let us all continue our work, and move towards the days when many, many more deserving people of all walks of life may enjoy such public praise." He turned, to offer Pym a short bow of sorts.


"Thank you, Doctor, for your words, and thank you all forfinding me worthy of them."

Pym smiled and returned the bow as he came back up to the podium. "Thank you, Dr. McCoy for that moving speech. And, last but certainly -not- least in any of our eyes, Dr. Moira MacTaggart. Ten years ago, we witnessed the startings of what would become a common name in our, and the mutant, community. Muir Island Research Center. Dr. MacTaggart formed the very first, pro-mutant hospital and research facility, running it with her esteemed colleague Dr. Rory Campbell. Without the Center, it can be safe to say that we would not stand on this eve with as much understanding or as many lives as we do now. Doctor?"

Moira took a deep breath and stood to take the stand. "This 'tis verra much an 'onor. One I was nay expectin' ta get." She smiled, overwhelmed. "I see faces I recognize, some I dinnae an' I realize what a difference we -all- 'ave made ta so many facets o' science. I'm jus' a drop in th' bucket. Th' Research Center was started on a whim, 'alf expectin' it ta never make it off th' ground. But I find meself lookin' back an' I realize I was driven ta make it work from day one. May it continue onward, even when I'm nay longer 'ere. May 'tis purpose never die. Thank ye."

She nodded to Pym as she went back to her seat and he shook his head. "That, doctors, is something we don't see every day...unfortunately. Now!" He clapped his hands together gleefully

"Let's get the eating and dancing started, shall we? We maybe scientists but, by God, we can have a good time!"




Moira tracks down Hank.



Moira ducked gracefully through the crowd, eyes scanning. 'Where did 'e go? Ahhh, there.' She spotted Henry standing by one of the open windows, seemingly haven just finished up a conversation with an older gentleman who was walking away. "'enry, there ye are. Jus' wanted to make sure ye were enjoyin' yerself.

Upon hearing Moira's approach, he turned from waving to the physicist he'd been chatting with, grinning at his concerned colleague approaches. "Yes, Moira. i promise that I'm not simply airing a lovely production for the benefit of the crowd. It would seem that an evening out amongst the elite of academia is what the doctor ordered." He pauses, amused. "Though which did the ordering, I 'm not yet sure of. There's no shortage of candidates."

"All o' us," she reminded him. "Includin' th' non-doctors o' th' mansion if'n ye recall." She smiled. "I'm glad ta see ye relaxin', 'enry. Count me amon' th' many who were worried 'bout ye."

His face softened into a smile of wry affection, and he nodded a little bit. "I understand and appreciate, my dear. But it was simply a bout of overwork and irritation over the situation. Easily passed, given a bit of time. And unless I miss my guess, this night out was due you and Charles at least as much as it was due I." It was a lightly chiding tone, meant to remind her that he's hardly the only person in the mansion worth worrying about.

The innocent look never worked on Henry. "Aye, tha' ye maybe right," she murmured, touching the side of her head briefly as she thought back to everything that had transpired over the last few weeks. "I believe we've all been on edge lately. Good ta see all o' us out."

Hank nodded, plucking a passing wineglass off of a waiter's tray, and a handful of canapés off another headed in another direction. "Indeed... though i don't believe I've every seen the Professor to be stressed. It makes one wonder after a secondary mutation on his part. But I suspect he would just smile and send me off to bed or something similar were I to suggest it." Munchies acquired, and piece spoken, he... well... munches.

"'e would at tha'." The music started up again and Moira glanced over. "'enry, do me th' favor o' eatin' quickly?" She grinned. "'Tis nay ever day I get ta dance an' currently I'm lackin' a partner."

An arches eyebrow provides the comment without speech, and Hank takes a quick look around, like a child about to misbehave, before he simply stuffs the remainder of the finger snacks in his mouth, washing it down with the rest of the wine. Pausing to straighten his eveningwear, he grins, nodding once. "Well, I suppose since a man of Charles' superior rug-cutting capabilities is bound to have an extremely long dance card, I would be remiss not to answer the call..."

Moira tried her best to look stern but she couldn't help but laugh. "'enry, ye are somethin' else." She grinned and extended her hand to him. "Let's show 'em 'ow 'tis done, aye?"



Doctor Pym shows his stuff.



"Doctor MacTaggart?" Moira turned to see Henry Pym bowing slightly from the waist, extending a hand slightly. "If I could be so bold as to ask for a few moments of your time out on the dance floor?"

Moira started slightly, not expecting to find him there. "Doctor Pym, ye startled me." She hesitated. She loved to dance but had heard the rumors. "Didnae ye 'ave a date?"

Pym looked sheepish as his eye darted over to a young blonde woman in a form-fitting red dress, chatting away on a cell phone. "I vaguely recall something like that. I believe she was distracted by either the buffet table or something shiny. So I find myself," he bowed lower briefly, "a man standing solo, in humble request of your company for a dance."

Her mind traveled back to earlier in the evening to Nathan but there was no harm in dancing. She hadn't in so long. Moira extended her hand and smiled. "I'd love ta dance, aye."

As they walked out onto the floor, Pym eased Moira smoothly into a waltz, feet moving to the music effortlessly. His steps were a little unusual, Moira thought - /He's turned th’ Highland Fling into a waltz, tha’ scamp!/ - she thought to herself. Pym looked down at Moira as she realized his ploy. "I figured you'd be familiar with the moves, Doctor."

"Aye," she said, shaking her head in bemusement. "Tha' I do an' 'tis a verra clever move ta make." She paused as she got a good look at him. "Dr. Pym...weren't ye -shorter- a wee while ago?"

This time, Pym's grin split his face shamelessly as he laughed heartily. "I was waiting for you to notice. It's a new discovery of mine, I call them Pym Particles. A subset of stable quarks that actually increase and decrease the distance between atomic valence shells." Before Moira could translate his meaning, Pym explained, "They make things shrink or grow, Moira. It's a groundbreaking discovery."

"Perfect fer men who struggle wit' their problems wit' their height?" she asked sweetly.

Pym's eyes widened and he covered his mouth as he coughed in surprise. "I don't - that is, I mean - well - I figured it would be easier if, well, you're an excellent dancer. Indulge my male ego and allow me to take the lead?" Pym captured Moira's attention with a few quick yet elaborate steps, whirling her from one outstretched arm to another as she raised her arms and pirouetted.

Laughing as Pym took her back in her arms, she shook her head. "Male ego always seem ta amuse me. Even amon' th' best an' the brightest, 'tis still in full force. Though I cannae understand why ye picked me ta be yer dance partner, Doctor, amon' all th' other women in attendance."

"That much is simple, Doctor," Pym replied, pulling Moira in close. "Doctor Stanicek over there has already stepped on two people's feet. I saw Doctor Weingarten take a second helping of the horseradish and garlic dip, and I wasn't about to ask Doctor Myers' wife to dance. Notorious battleaxe." Moira allowed herself to be dipped nearly to the floor and brought up again as Pym grinned impishly. "But truly?" he offered, "I would never forgive myself for passing up a dance with the most elegant scientist in the room."

Moira find herself blushing as Pym eyed her with great interest. "I wouldna go tha' far, Doctor. Good dancer, aye, I'll give ye tha'."

"You give yourself too little credit, Moira," Pym smiled. "You carry yourself like a woman born to be admired. It's as much a part of you as your more-than-formidable intellect. You shouldn't be afraid to use one any more than the other."

"Hmm. Ye sure yer middle name isna flatterer?"

"Actually, it's David. And if I recall," Pym whirled Moira across his arms one last time as the music slowed to a halt, "it's only flattery if it's insincere. Would you mind if I called you sometime?" Pym's offer was surprisingly blunt, in contrast to his compliments.

Moira blinked in surprise, especially when Pym stopped suddenly but didn't let go. "Well, I wasna expectin' -tha'-."

"Then go with your first instinct, Doctor," Pym leaned in close. "You're a beautiful woman. I'm not an unattractive man myself. It practically works itself out."

"I'm flattered, really. But I think there maybe a rather large...grumpy someone who'd nay like it t' much. ...possibly..." The slightly confused look that briefly passed Moira's face did not escape Pym's attention.

Pym stood close to Moira, tilting her head up to look into her eyes. "Moira, you're a scientist. You know better than to rely on a possibly when you've got a certainty right in front of you. If whoever you've got waiting for you is only a possibly, then he's obviously not paying you the attention you deserve."

"Aye, but we're nay ordinary scientists, are we, 'enry?" she murmured, smiling. "Muir Island was a chance, a possibility. Hopkins was a certainty. Look where it got me." She patted his hand and reached up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Yer a charmer, Doctor an' a wonderful dancer. Thank ye." Moira nodded her head and then turned to walk towards the drink table.

Pym shook his head as Moira walked away, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "All right, Doctor MacTaggart. A challenge it is. Let's just hope your possibility is up for the best Doctor Henry Pym has to offer."



Are we sure Moira and Charles like each other?



Moira shook her head as she made her way to where Charles looked like he was having a quiet moment. "Good Lord, Charles, is Pym still followin' me?"

Charles chuckled. "No, I believe he's been distracted by that charming young particle physicist. He _did_ seem quite taken with you, however."

She rolled her eyes. "Bloody 'ell," she muttered. "'e's charmin' enough but bloody damned insistent. No idea why 'e keeps followin' me."

"Perhaps you should ask Nathan," Charles replied blandly, hiding his smile behind his napkin. "Rather good hors d'oeuvres, don't you think?"

The drink in her hand, water, nearly bobbled over and she glared at him. "Aye, they are...an' what do ye mean by tha'?" She knew what he meant but she wanted to make sure.

"Simply that he seems to be paying a good deal closer attention to you of late than is readily explainable by your link. Perhaps you hadn't noticed; if that's the case, my apologies." He didn't, however, sound particularly apologetic.

"Charles, yer as apologetic as 'enry when he makes that God awful stuff 'e calls soda, drinks all o' it an' then goes through th' lab in a tear." She paused. "Maybe I did notice at tha'."

"You know, we do have a school policy regarding cohabitation . . ."

She eyed his head thoughtfully. "I could always convince Clarice tha' yer personal rooms need redecoratin'. An' 'tis nay anythin' like -tha'-." '...maybe...'

"I suspect I'm slightly more convincing than you are." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure Rory would be reassured to hear that all continues platonically . . ."

"I really am goin' ta steal th' brakes on tha' chair o' yers. Ye know Rory would be out 'ere in a New York second if'n ye even mentioned somethin' like tha'. An' then we'd 'ave t' clean up after th' boys."

"Mm, yes. And then Cain would undoubtedly threaten to toss me into the lake. Nothing quite as destructive as competitive young men."

"I thought bein' tossed 'ead first inta th' lake was my department?"

"I can confidently claim right of precedence, I believe. We were, however, discussing Nathan, not my childhood mishaps."

Moira quirked an eyebrow and filed that one away. "Do ye 'ave anythin' else ye want ta talk about Nathan?" she asked innocently.

"Should I make sure you have a copy of the cohabitation policy?" he replied just as innocently.

Her lips twitched. "...maybe. Though when 'is room is fixed, 'e'll probably be movin' back in there."

"Well, you do have a gift for accumulating clutter." He raised the other eyebrow. "And for moving quickly. Good Lord, Moira, he hasn't been here a month yet, has he?"

"Do ye feel anythin' if'n I kick ye in th' knee?"

"Sadly, no. You'll have to be more creative than that."

"I could always find a large body o' water ta roll ye inta."

"Do all these fine people know they've honored someone who victimizes the disabled, I wonder?"

The smile she gave him was bright and sunny. "An' considerin' some o' them know ye personally, they'd 'onor me again."

"An excellent point. You win this round, I think."

"Always, Charles, always." She winked and then headed back into the crowd, smirking the entire way.