xp_logs | Moira and Nathan: Lake George, Day Three (Sunday) (Reply)

Day three of the sanity break. Moira and Nathan have a very pleasant morning-after conversation, then go for a sail on Lake George, then come back and stuff themselves one last time on the inn's ridiculously good food. Along the way, a lot of issues are touched upon, and a couple of secrets are told.

Something was tickling her ear. Moira reached up to try and stop it and came into contact with something that was firm and kind of scruffy. With a little exploration, she discovered that the something was Nathan breathing against her ear. As she continued the process of waking, Moira noted they had made their way back to the bed and sometime during the night had switched positions. Nathan had her rather securely in the loop of his arms as he spooned against her back. With a small happy noise, she tried to peer around to see if he was awake.

Dozing lightly, Nathan sensed the way her sleeping thoughts sharpened into wakefulness on the link, and opened his eyes a bit reluctantly as she shifted around in his arms. It had taken him the better part of two hours to drift off after he'd finally gone back to bed last night, and he wasn't quite ready to be awake yet. Still, he thought, blinking at her smiling face, there were compensations. "Hey," he murmured, an answering smile tugging at his lips.

"Mornin'." She reached up and kissed him gently. His thoughts were confused and more tired than hers. Moira tilted her head up to look at him fully. "Everythin' okay?"

"Had a visit from the insomnia fairy last night," he said, his voice coming out a bit gravelly. She frowned, that crease appearing between her eyebrows, and whimsically, he reached out and traced it with a finger. "Which is amazing," he said more dryly, "given that I really should have been all but comatose."

"God only knows I was," she replied, giggling and batting at his hand. "Tickles." She gave him another worried look. "Nay any bad dreams? Jus' couldna sleep?"

He managed to nod without lifting his head off the pillow. "No bad dreams," he reassured her. "Stewing over the lack of them, actually." She would see his journal entry at some point, he was sure. "You okay this morning?" he asked, knowing she would see it for the change of subject it was. "Things got a little intense last night."

A poke in the ribs was the only sign she was slightly annoyed by the change in direction but she went with it. "Aye, I am." Moira reached up and kissed his chin. "More than okay, really. An' I would say it got more than a wee intense."

Nathan made a noise of agreement, but reached down the link, just to make sure she was all right. He didn't encounter anything that felt like feedback-shock, just happy fatigue and what felt like a vast ocean of satisfaction. He stroked her shoulder lightly, almost absently. "I'd forgotten what it was like not to hate being a telepath," he said, without thinking.

Moira caught his hand and kissed the palm of it. She had known he was uncomfortable with it and didn't enjoy using it but this wasn't something he had told her before. "I dinnae know ye 'ated it," she said quietly, watching him.

He blinked and then gave her a slightly wary look. She just gazed back at him calmly, waiting, and he grimaced helplessly. "I have got to do something about this blurting-stuff-out nonsense," he grumbled. Moira gave him a faint, oddly enigmatic smile, and he surrendered. He didn't think he was capable of holding anything back from her right now. "It's useful at times," he said, his voice a little uncertain. "But yeah. Most of the time, I hate it."

The touch on his chin was gentle but insistent and she made him look her directly in the eyes. "One step at a time, no matter what step, jus' tha' we start," she reminded him, of both their conversation from dinner and the one in the jacuzzi jacuzzi. The look she gave him let him know that she would be understanding if he didn't want to open up.

Which of course, meant that he had to. Nathan took a deep breath, pulling her in closer, his arms tightening around her. "With this, where to start is probably the biggest issue," he said, a bitter edge to the words despite how hard he tried to keep his voice level. "I mean, take your pick. My conditioning, or twenty years of killing people for a living and sensing them die. Or feeling them kill Aliya--"

Moira wrapped her arms around his neck and then shifted, Nathan following willingly, so she was on her back, with him curled up by her side. She ran her fingers through his hair as he tucked his head under her chin. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." There weren't any words for this, how much she wanted to ease that aching pain inside of him.

Nathan closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a few moments. Don't bottle it up, he told himself sternly. Just let it be... #I could change my mind pretty easily, I think,# he finally sent, the thought gliding along the link almost wistfully. #About hating it, I mean. If we have many more nights like last night...# He meant it half-seriously, half as a joke, but the link was wide open and he knew he couldn't hide from her his awareness that it would take a lot more than that.

She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. #If tha's wha' it takes, I suppose I'll 'ave ta give meself ta th' cause,# she sighed over the link, smiling a little. Moira grew serious, though. #Wee steps, Nathan, if'n tha's what it'll take. I told ye'd yer wort' waitin' for, even if it takes use th' next twenty years t' sort out our mess.#

He could feel the absolute conviction behind the words, the strange mixture of steely determination and tenderness. Her heartbeat was steady, reassuring, and he let the air in his lungs out on a sigh as she rubbed gently at the back of his neck and shoulders, smoothing away the tension in his muscles. "Love you," he murmured, drowsiness stealing over him.

"Love ye too." Moira gave his shoulders a last squeeze before sighing. "A shower would be nice but I dinnae think I can move..."

"Moving bad," Nathan agreed sleepily.

***

Moira peered over the edge of the boat, enthralled by the water. Nathan had been incredibly sneaky, not telling her where they were going. He'd even pouted when she'd pressed on the link, so she'd left well enough alone. And she was glad she had. A cruise on Lake George, in gorgeous weather...he'd known exactly what she'd like. She leaned further out, intent on the water. The wind felt good and it was good to be back on some form of water again. It wasn't the ocean, but it would do nicely.

Nathan came up behind her, leaving the link open so that she wasn't startled by his approach. "Your coffee, madam," he said a bit grandiosely, handing her one of the cups. She took it, grinning at him as she leaned back against the railing, and he sat down on the nearby bench, sipping at his own coffee. "They have quite a selection of stuff for lunch, when you're feeling like it. Nothing up to the standards of what we were getting back at the inn, obviously, but the pizza looked awfully good."

Chuckling, Moira took a sip of her coffee. "'Tis goin' ta take us some time ta get used ta nay bein' pampered," she said, cheerfully. "God, I could get so used ta this." She edged over slightly, until she was right next to Nathan. The coffee was good but needed a few more brews before it was perfect.

"If you were used to it, it wouldn't be so enjoyable," Nathan said with what he thought was perfect logic.

"I wouldna complain. T' much." She placed a quick kiss on the top of his head. "I do miss 'ome...bot' o' them."

"Well, we'll be back to one tomorrow," Nathan said a bit regretfully, studying an old, sprawling mansion high up on the hill the boat was currently passing. He was feeling oddly ambivalent about going back. There were a number of people he was looking forward to seeing, but part of him wondered what would happen when they did get back. Whether the lack of visions and nightmares and hallucinations had something to do with getting away, being here. It didn't make any sense that it would, but he had never claimed to be particularly rational on the subject.

Moira murmured at him and then pushed him to the side so she could sit down. "Ye'll be okay," she promised, leaning into him. The thought that the visions would start up, worse, scared her, but...they'd get through it. They had to.

"Optimism, right?" he quipped, putting his arm around her. The wind was a little brisk, but refreshing. It really was the perfect sort of day for doing this, but he was glad they had made it to the first of the two daily cruises. There were clouds on the horizon that made him think that the weather wouldn't have been so picture-perfect later. "I'll have to work on that. Old habits die hard."

"Mmm, I'll 'elp wit' tha'." The wind picked up for a second and Moira leaned her head back slightly, letting it play with her hair. There was no smell of the ocean, obviously, but if she closed her eyes she could imagine it was there. The sound was right. "I'm nothin' if nay bloody optimistic," she reminded him gently. She had to be. There had been a time where she hadn't been and she shuddered slightly.

"You are," he said slowly, casting around for the words, "one of the most unbelievably strong people I've ever known." She cast a startled look up at him, and he brushed his lips against her forehead gently, then smiled down at her. "Don't worry. This is not me putting you on a pedestal or anything. Just... you leave me in awe, sometimes."

Moira smiled gently and brushed her lips against his. "I'm nay as stron' as I pretend to be," she murmured. "Or, sometimes, as stron' as I need ta be. But tha's wha' I've got ye for." Which was true, she realized, startled. Before, when her walls had started to crack she had nowhere to turn. Charles was in the States and Rory...she loved Rory like a brother but there was always a seed of mistrust in her, however untrue it might feel. But now, she had Nathan, who was trying to get her to stop hiding behind those walls. She took a deep breath and nuzzled into his shoulder, a little overwhelmed.

Nathan stared ahead blankly, not registering the scenery as all his attention was drawn to that tiny, barely-audible thought that had skittered along the link. #You never told me,# he sent, very gently. #That you wondered about Rory, and the suits for Kevin.#

The breeze suddenly felt a little colder and Moira closed her eyes tightly. #'Tis stupid. It -'as- ta be, aye? Doesnae it? 'e'd never...we were doin' fine. On track. Then thin's started addin' up wron'. Th' suits frizzed out on us. Small, wee thin's. I shouldna worry...#

#Rory wouldn't have done anything to hurt Kevin,# Nathan told her, certain of it and letting that color the link. #Kevin hurt him, yes, but Rory wouldn't have done anything to harm him. Or you.# He cordially disliked the man, had for years, but he also knew what kind of man he was.

#I jus' keep tellin' meself tha'.# She let out a sigh. #Wha' kind o' a friend am I tha' lets themselves think tha'?#

"Don't do that," he murmured, aloud this time as he stroked her shoulder gently. "Loss makes us do and think strange things. And even if he knew, he would forgive you for it."

"'Tis frustratin'." Moira nearly didn't tell him but since she was pressing him to open and share lately...she lifted her head to look at him. "Ye know..." The way he was looking at her was so cute, she though hazily, running her fingers along his jaw. "Tha's th' reason I never wanted anythin' from 'im besides friendship. Trust. I dinnae trust 'im on some level, no matter 'ow wron' I was. 'Tis why 'e doesna like ye, because I trust ye wit' everythin' I am, nearly from th' start o' our friendship." Trust had always been a big issue for her. She'd been reluctant to trust people other than her family even before Joe and after...well, things had definitely gone from bad to worse.

Nathan tilted his head, listening not just to her words but to what she wasn't saying aloud, as well. His mouth twitched with a smile, almost despite himself. "I wish I could figure out precisely what I did while I was lying in your clinic glaring and occasionally cursing at you that made you trust me," he said lightly. "But you know, I'm... um, sort of honored. Have I ever actually said that to you?"

She blinked at him. "Naaay."

He rolled his eyes briefly heavenward. "I'm getting all soppy here, MacTaggart. Bear with me."

Laughing, Moira kissed his shoulder and winked. "If'n I get ta see ye go all soppy, I'll bear as lon' as possible."

He took a long sip of his coffee, then reminded himself he needed to start trying to break the habit of stalling like that. Nothing like developing a 'tell' in your old age. "Just--the fact you did decide to trust me means a lot. I don't know what I did to deserve it, and why you didn't just kick me off your island when I decided to start sticking my nose into your business, but... I'm glad you didn't." He looked down at her, his expression serious again. "I'm not going to give you any reason to be sorry for letting me in. I hope you know that, at least."

"I do, dinnae ever doubt that. An' ye dinnae give me much o' a choice," she murmured, curling up closer while managing to balance her coffee cup in her free hand. It was hard not to remember the night he had showed back up on Muir. She'd just finished whiskey bottle three when he'd barged in on her office. The drink had managed to take away all emotions but she had felt a new one when she saw the look in his eyes...shame. He'd come looking for...something, help, a friend, and he'd found her so deep in the bottle that she couldn't get out by herself. "I couldna turn ye away. Ye did wha' Rory been threatenin' t' do but never did. Ye made me look at meself an' realize I was doin' somethin' dangerous. Tha' there was somethin' beyond me pain an' th' drink ta live for."

He was silent for a long moment, busy throttling his first instinct, which was to be flippant. This wasn't the time. "You scared me," he said slowly, lost in his own memory of that day. "It was like I could see you, in pieces." She'd been so... broken. "It was so... wrong," he muttered, unable to find the right words. And he had been torn between shouting at her, and wanting to fix her world for her. In the end, he had tried to do both, but the latter, as always, had been mostly up to her.

"I scared meself. I managed t' run th' Center while doin' tha'." She shook her head. "Somethin' was bound ta 'appen after a while." Moira looked up at him. "Ye scared me as well," she murmured, remembering waking up the next morning and *seeing* him for the first time. It was like he wasn't anything more than tension and fear and hatred, all wound up in one package.

"We were quite a pair, that year," he admitted frankly. That had been his third visit to Muir, and the few months leading up to it had been very bad. Jobs that hadn't gone well, a Mistra retrieval team that had almost been successful... "I'm amazed we managed not to kill each other."

"Ye tried! Ye threw me in th' lake!" Moira shook her head in bemusement. "Though I'm glad I did get ye back for tha' stunt." She smirked at him.

He eyed her severely, trying very hard not to smile. "I thought we were never going to speak of that again."

She batted her eyes at him and looked smug. "Ye were, I never made any such promises."

"Witch," he said, quite sincerely, and then pointed at another mansion, this one even more striking atop the crest of a hill, streamers of clouds behind it. "Where's that camera of yours?"

"'old this." She handed Nathan her cup of coffee and fished the camera out of her jacket pocket. Making odd noises, she tried to line the shot up. "Ahh, perfect..." She smiled in satisfication when the shot came through.

"Nice," he said, as she showed him the camera screen. Something occurred to him, and he grinned at her rather roguishly. "We need something to prove that we didn't just hole up in our room and stay in bed all weekend."

A snicker escaped before she could stop it. "Who, us? Stay in bed all weekend?" Moira grinned back at him. "Wha' on eart' would give them tha' idea? Temptin' as it was..."

He gave her a mock-disapproving look. "Insatiable woman."

"Oohhh, nay ye dinnae!" She poked him as she rescued her coffee for him. "Yer th' one wakin' me up at three in th' mornin', remember?" Moira couldn't help but laugh at the smug look Nathan sported and leaned back against him, watching the water go by.

***

"We're both going to find out we've gained five pounds, you know," Nathan confided from where he was sprawled sideways on the bed, nibbling on a piece of cheese. They had gotten back from the cruise and ordered an immense dinner from room service. There was probably food enough for five people, between the cart and the plates on the bed between them. "Once we get back, I mean." He turned his head towards Moira, who was sitting up, leaning against the headboard of the bed and eating creme brulee with a blissful expression on her face. He thought of pointing out that she was working backwards through dinner, but hell, if she was enjoying herself... "Nice of the chef to share so many of his recipes," he said. "I haven't gotten to meet Lorna yet, but it sounds like she'll appreciate them."

Moira waited until she swallowed before answering, nodding. "Aye, she will. I've tasted 'er cookin' before, 'tis ta die for." She licked the remaining creme brulee off the spoon and pouted down at it. "She'll do these recipes justice, I'll bet." The thought of having this kind of food at the mansion made her remember to remind herself to start exercising again on a regular basis.

Nathan snagged another few pieces off the cheese plate. "You can have mine, if you want," he said, jerking his chin at the cart. "The other creme brulee, I mean. I like the look of the chocolate mousse a little better."

Beaming, Moira carefully crawled over to the edge of the bed. She paused and kissed the top of Nathan's head before trying to reach the cart with one hand. "I'm nay goin' ta be able t' get out o' these jeans after dinner," she sighed, sticking out the tip of her tongue in concentration as she leaned forward more.

Nathan waved a hand, and the creme brulee floated over to her. "I figure I'm up to the challenge," he said, deliberately leering at her.

Laughing, she grabbed the dessert from the air and leaned down again to kiss him. "Yer more than welcome ta try," she teased, wiggling her eyebrows at him. She settled back down on the bed, closer to him this time, and dug in again. Little contented noises murmured through the link.

"What time are we heading out tomorrow?" he asked, feeling a trace of reluctance again at the idea of leaving. "Classes start tomorrow, don't they?" The students would be back. This would be both a good thing and a bad thing, he reflected. He would have to be more careful, when--if? no, when--the visions started up again.

"Aye, they do." She wrinkled her nose. "I think when we wake up, they know nay ta expect us back fer classes tomorrow." Moira fiddled with the spoon. As much as she missed the school, and the people there, she really didn't want to give this up. Neither of them had been this relaxed in such a long time. She'd be running around like a chicken with her head cut off, probably as soon as she got back. Nathan was worried about his visions starting up again. Moira grimaced. And she thought he'd pull away a little once they got back, she knew how he was with people around.

"Hey," Nathan said, blinking at her. "I'm going to do no such thing... well, I'm not going to jump you in the halls or anything," he amended hastily, "but seriously. Not about to get standoffish on you. The kids can coo as they like."

She grinned, sheepishly. "I'm sorry, tha' was jus' stupid. Jus' nay used ta this." Moira put the creme brulee down and reached for his hands.

"We'll be all right," he said with a lopsided grin. "Flying by the seat of your pants might be a little dicey, but it can be damned exciting, right?"

"Aye, tha' it can be." She leaned over for another kiss, smirking when he made that growly noise again. "Tha's rather sexy, ye know tha'?"

"Why do you think I do it?" he murmured, giving her an innocent look.

A thought occurred to her suddenly and she sighed. Moira really didn't want to ruin the mood but if she didn't say anything, this would weigh on her mind. And then Nathan would poke and prod to figure out what was up. She tugged on his hands. "'ey, can we talk?"

"Sure," he said, more seriously as he realized that she did have something on her mind. "Shoot. Figuratively speaking, I mean."

Moira focused on his hands. "We jus' need ta talk 'bout ye stayin'," she said, quietly. "Ye always say I dinnae understand part o' yer life, but...will tha' impact wha' we're tryin' ta build?" There was a lump in her throat. She may not be privy to what he did when he wasn't with her, but she wasn't stupid. She just didn't like thinking he was withholding things from her because he thought he was protecting her.

Nathan swallowed. "It may," he said softly, with some difficulty. "I won't lie to you." He sighed deeply, squeezing her hands. "If I stay here in the States, they'll find me eventually. I don't know that they'd risk trying to come in and get me, not into a place like Xavier's... but they may try and lure me out." Possibly by setting up a situation in which he had no choice, which was a terrifying thought. "It's a risk, Moira. I guess... I guess we've got to decide together what to do about it."

She held onto his hands with everything she had. "Why do they want ye so badly, Nathan?" she whispered, around the lump in her throat that didn't seem to be going away any time soon.

He tilted his head, studying her. "I never did tell you, did I?" He sat up, not letting go of her hands. "I wasn't just an operative," he went on, the words coming out a little cooler, although the chill in his voice wasn't directed at her and he sensed that she knew that. "I was Mistra's field commander."

Moira blinked in surprise. "Ye--never mentioned it," she said, a little weakly. She knew he kept things from her but, still... something like this?

"I was their first real success. The conditioning didn't kill me, and I picked up the necessary skills quickly. I had... aptitudes most of the other candidates in my year didn't, for all that I was a couple of years older." Nathan was silent for a moment, remembering how few of the others had made it through the full training. "I never was in on the decision-making, even when they promoted me. I was just... the alpha wolf in the pack. But I knew what the decisions were. I organized training sessions... sat in on the full operational briefings, not just what they told the worker bees in the field." He smiled faintly, humorlessly at Moira. "But that's not really why they want me back. That was why they wanted me dead, at first. Then they went back and consulted the psis in charge of the conditioning program, and found out that if they got me back, they could... adjust me. They could have me back, for real. I got the early version of the conditioning, you see. There was a lot more to it, which was why so few of us survived. More failsafes..."

Moira felt the color drain out of her face and she went cold. Her grip on his hands tightened and she tried to settle her heart back down to a normal rate. "Nathan...I dinnae want ta put ye in any danger." Her voice nearly broke and she tried to remove a hand to wipe at her eyes, which were suddenly burning. "God, o' all th' times for me ta be stupid wit' Muir..."

"Don't," he said softly, not letting go of her hands. "You're the only one who knows, Moira. The only person I've ever told." He laughed weakly. "Hell, I outright lied to Pete when I got here. Him, Dom, G.W.... they all think I don't know why Mistra's still after me." He hadn't wanted to tell anyone what was waiting for him if he ever went back 'home', mostly because he hadn't wanted to contemplate the possibility himself. But he had to be honest with Moira. If this was going to work, he couldn't hold things back that could affect the both of them.

"I'm th' one who brought you 'ere, though." She sniffed and blinked back tears. How could she have been so *stupid*?

"Stop it," he said with a sigh, levitating the dishes out of the way and back to the cart so that there was nothing stopping him from pulling her into his arms. "I knew this before I came, Moira. It's something I've been living with for a while now--four years, actually. I knew the risk I was taking coming back to the States with you, and I decided it was worth it." He hugged her tightly, taking a shaky breath. "Now, it's even more worth it. I'm tired of running, Moira... I'm tired of letting them define my life. I want to be with you."

To her everlasting horror, Moira burst into tears and buried her head in his neck. She wasn't supposed to do this, Moira tried to rationalize but that didn't help any. #I want ta be wit' ye so much it 'urts. I dinnae want ye ta leave, ever. I think 'tis wort' th' risk.# She didn't want to try talking around the tears.

"I'm not going to leave you," Nathan murmured into her hair, his eyes blurring. He blinked rapidly. "I made that mistake over and over, and I'm not doing it anymore, Moira. I'm not." Whatever it took, whatever he had to do...

Moira pushed her way onto his lap and curled, hiding her face. "Was so afraid I wasna wort' it," she whispered, wiping her eyes quickly. She felt so safe here. A deep breath, to calm herself back down, and then she lifted her head to look at him. "Thank ye."

Nathan gave her a slightly unsteady smile, smoothing the hair back from her face. "It'll be all right," he said. "It will. We've both made it through all kinds of shit so far. This is... nothing, Moira. Not when it's the two of us."

"Always th' two o' us," she murmured, touching his face, which swam a little bit before she blinked the tears out of her eyes.

"Shall we get back to the dinner?" he suggested lightly. "Would hate to see all this food go to waste."

"Aye, we should do tha'," she said, straightening slightly. "...do I 'ave t' get off yer lap?" She pouted up at him.

"Telekinesis is our friend," he said, mock-seriously, and levitated the dishes back. Starting with her creme brulee.