xp_logs | Nathan and Pete, Thursday afternoon

Backdated to last Thursday afternoon. Pete takes Nate shopping for his birthday present from Dom. Shop is talked, as are other subjects-of-the-day.

It was taking a fair amount of self-control not to
bounce in the seat or do something else thoroughly
undignified. But Nathan knew that if he gave into
the impulse, Pete probably wouldn't let him live
it down, so he contented himself with a maniacal
grin. Nothing like the prospect of a nice new
gun to make you stop worrying about getting old.

"So," he said to Pete, trying to sound casual despite
the whole inability-to-stop-beaming thing. "Still
feeling the jet lag?"

"Don't tell anyone, but it doesn't bother me too much.
I don't sleep a lot at the best of times, so the worst
jet-lag does is make me sleep like a normal person.
The only reason I've been making comment about it
that journals is that I wanted a few days peace and
quiet to get a bit of reading done before I have to
start dealing with the kids again."

Pete grinned. "I didn't get much of a holiday, the
way things turned out, so I figured I was due a
few days off. And speaking of holidays, I hear yours
was almost as interesting as mine?"

Nathan snorted, still grinning. "You could say that,"
he said, looking back out the window at the landscape
rushing by. The scenery was vaguely familiar. He
suspected this was the way he had come when he had
gone wandering off and wound up in the coffee shop. "I
suppose this has been due for about the last five
years. Just didn't expect it to sneak up on me like
this, especially with all the other shit that's going
on." He glanced sideways at Pete again, wondering what
Dom had said to him about it all. "And spending the
weekend out in Lake George was just surreal. Nothing
like going from having a telepath from the future
smacking you down with your own telekinesis to an
idyllic romantic getaway. My life is just too fucking
weird sometimes."

"If it were anyone but you, I'd say it was a side
effect of being at Xaviers. The whole place is
crawling with people that are too weird for their own
good."

Pete looked ahead for the turning - he knew the gun
shop he had in mind was just off the road somewhere
up ahead, but he wasn't sure exactly where...

"Actually, that's the onther reason I wanted out of
there today. I spent a couple of hours yesterday
reading back over the journals before I crashed out,
and the stink of self-pity coming off some of those
kids was begining to get right up my nose. I think
it's a side effect of being encouraged to write down
every last bloody thing they're feeling."

Nathan shook his head, thinking about his conversation
with Cain back on Monday. "I'd be lying if I said I
didn't get a bit peevish at times, seeing how little
some of these kids appreciate how good they've got it
here," he allowed. "But I don't see much way to drive
that home to them. 'When I was your age...' stories
don't tend to work all that well."

"I'm starting to think someone ought to teach a class
in 'horrible things that happen to other people'.
They could start with that bloody camp in Korea."

Pete turned off the main road. The shop was a few
hundred yards down the road.

"Which shouldn't be a problem too much longer, by the
way. I passed the info to Doyle, but I also chucked
a copy to a journo I know in London, so even if
Doyle can't convince his boss that they need to do
something right now, the news should be doing the
rounds in the UK in a few days."

All right, so the urge to keep grinning maniacally was
fading right away. Probably a good thing. "How badly
were they messing these kids up?" Nathan asked
quietly, noting what was obviously their destination.
"If it's just the training, they've got a chance of
getting back to some semblance of a normal life."

"Pretty fucking badly. The only good news is that
the psi conditioning they were using was pretty
fucking ropey - they don't have any alpha class
psi's that have survived the program yet, so most
of the conditioning was brainwashing the old
fashioned way."

Pete pulled the car in outside the shop.

"Actually, I'm more concerned about one of the
sidelines to that operation than I am about
the camp itself. It looks like they were selling
the failures on - I just couldn't find out who
to. I've run across a couple of similar set-ups
in the last year or so."

Nathan stared stonily at the dashboard for a moment as
Pete turned off the car, but told himself to shake it
off. Brooding might be perversely satisfying, but it
wasn't particularly productive. "I'll see what I can
find out, if you want," he said finally, opening the
door. "I have some contacts you don't when it comes to
this sort of thing."

"Cheers. It's been something I've been trying to run
down since I first heard about it, but I've not had
any luck." Pete got out of the car, shaking his head
slightly.

"Enough shop talk, though. It's your birthday, and
I'm having a few days bloody holiday if it kills me.
Oh, and while I'm thinking of it, Romany says hi."

Nathan couldn't help a laugh. "Just hi? She's either
slipping or mellowing," he said as they walked up to
the door of the gun shop. "Apparently Amanda was
quizzing her and... what was the name, Homily? about
whether they knew anything that could help me with
these damned visions. She came back with half a dozen
books I'm supposed to be reading." He shook his head,
smiling again. "I think Romany must be rubbing off on
her. Which is probably a good thing."

"Yeah, right up to the point where she starts trying
to get me to pay attention to me bloody karma. Bad
enough when me big sister and her mates give me
grief, but I can do without Amanda deciding that
me immortal soul needs a wash and brush up too."

Pete rolled his eyes.

"Mind you, I think I'm safe enough for now, and
I think Romany was the first person to ever
really put any faith in her, so I'm not too
surprised..."

"She's a good kid," Nathan said as they went in.
Mindful of the presence of the man behind the desk, he
chose his words carefully as he started a leisurely
survey of what the store had to offer. The selection
was moderately impressive, he thought absently. "She
came to see me on Monday. Wanted to talk about Manuel
and what happened before she left." He figured Pete
would realize he meant the link. "On the face of
things, I think she'll be okay. But he's not, and
she's all determined to help him. I can't help but
think that down that road lies trouble."

"Yeah, probably." There was a world of resignation
in Pete's tone. "But if Amanda and Emma and Marie
don't get through to him, then he's only going to
be more trouble later. So yeah, I'd rather Amanda
wasn't mixed up with him, but someone's got to be,
and she's made the choice..."

#Marie and Emma weren't linked to him,# Nathan thought
at Pete, something he had only done once before, on a
job when there hadn't been any other option for
communication. It struck him what a breach in
'manners' it was as soon as he did it, and he flushed,
looking away and focusing on a display of rifles to
buy himself a moment to regain his composure. "She
just... has to be careful," he said aloud, as evenly
as he could. "I think she was listening to me when I
explained that. I hope."

Pete blinked in surprise but let it go at that.
"Yeah, point made. I think she's listening better
than she was a couple of months back, and she
knows she's got to be careful around him for
all sorts of reasons. I'll talk it through
with Emma, just to be on the safe side, though."

He paused, then changed the subject.

"See anything you like?"

"Mmm," Nathan said, trying for a wry tone. "Lots. But
I suspect I should go for something small and
discreet... and not a word about phallic substitutes,
Wisdom." He wandered down the length of one display
case, his eyes moving over the handguns inside. "I
still can't believe Moira left *all* of mine in
Lichtenstein. Do you know how long it's been since I
spent more than a night or two without a gun
underneath my pillow?"

"I don't think I want to know, but I'm sure the
last month or two has been terribly cold and
lonely for you. Like a kid without their
comfort blanket."

Pete's smile was only slightly vicious.

"Mind you, I don't fancy your chances of getting
MacTaggart to agree to let you sleep with it
under a pillow, no matter how discreet you go
for."

Nathan gave him a nasty look. "I think I can cope," he
said, and went back to eyeing the Glocks. "So, do you
just settle back into your oh-so-suitable guidance
counselor role now?" he asked innocently. "Advising
them on all their many options in life, mediating
student/teacher conflicts... counseling them through
their broken hearts..."

"Bastard. Their options in life is Jake's job. He's
the one that went to finishing school. I get the
broken hearts and and the bitching about staff
members, which are always good for a few laughs. If
it's much more serious than that, I encourage them
to see someone who's actually qualified. It's not
hard, and it gives me some cover if anyone thinks
to ask why I'm hanging about. Charlie knows I don't
take it too seriously, so I get to spend most of my
time doing real work."

This time, the grin really was vicious.

"I'm still looking forward to seeing what job they're
going to manage to stick you with..."

Nathan gestured at the man behind the counter, who
came over. "I'll take a look at that one," he said,
pointing out one of the Glocks before he glanced back
at Pete. "What are either of us doing around
impressionable children?" he asked with a grin. "Got
to be some kind of cosmic joke..."

"You're telling me. I have to keep reminding myself
that taking a few of them to one side and teaching
them something useful isn't on. Charlie's leather
suit bridage is pretty bloody useless, but that's
not an excuse for me to go sticking my oar in."

"There's useful, and then there's useful," Nathan
said, a very specific part of him relaxing a little as
soon as he had the gun in his hands. Pete hadn't been
too far off with the comfort blanket crack, he
reflected. "I don't think either of us should be
passing on our bad habits, but a few lessons in how
that certain side of the world works probably wouldn't
go amiss. For preventative purposes, if nothing else."

"Maybe." Pete's tone was doubtful. "But can you really
see half the kids here stopping at preventative purposes?
I don't want to teach them just enough to cock up, and
Charlie wouldn't take it too well if they got more than basic
theory never bloody mind the idea frightening the shit out
of the various agencies that keep tabs on the place..."

Nathan thought about it for a moment as he examined
the gun. "You're probably right," he allowed wryly,
giving Pete a faint smile. "Reason number two thousand
and fifty that I shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a
classroom, I suppose."

"Ha! Nice try, but I'm willing to bet that as just as
soon as they pass you fit, they'll have you in a
classroom somehow. You've got a couple of degrees,
don't you?"

"A couple, yeah. My reward for being a good soldier."
Nathan smirked as he handed the gun back to the man
and indicated another. "When they decided that
providing incentives was a good idea, I remember they
called us all together and went around the room. I'll
never forget the instructor's face when I told her
that no, I didn't want two months' vacation in Bangkok
like T--my buddy who was sitting next to me, that I'd
rather go to school."

"I wouldn't say that too loud back at Xavier's, if
I were you. Half the kids in the place will decide
that you're an even bigger freak than them, and
burn you at the stake."

"And we come back around to the whole 'not
appreciating how good they've got it' issue," Nathan
said dryly, gazing down appreciatively at the second
gun. It felt considerably more right than the first.
"I was already feeling old just listening to some of
them. Didn't really need the birthday to remind me."

"Nah, that's just the normal reaction to kids faced
with school. I don't blame 'em for it." Pete
grinned again. "If all they're complaining about is
homework, I can live with that. Course, I had the sense
not to tell anyone when it was me birthday, so I got off light."

"Hey, I didn't spill the beans. It was the evil Scotswoman."
He checked the sights on the gun, then nodded. "I'll take
this one," he said, handing it back to the man. "And some ammo."

"I'll have to lock it up with Moira's when we get back. Seems
like a shame," he said to Pete as they headed over to the cash.
"But anyhow. You said something about lunch?"