xp_logs | Moira and Nathan, Dinner time

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Laughing a little, Moira thanked Lorna and took the food from her as she shut the door. The comment about keeping things at temperature had obviously been aimed at the food but she couldn't help but snicker at it. Under the tray, the smell of the food wafted out and she sighed happily. If it could be believed, it smelled better than when they had first tasted it during their getaway. Moira suddenly blinked and realized that if she moved the rather heavy trays would probably topple over.

"...Nathan? A wee bit o' 'elp, please?" She called over her shoulder, wincing just a little bit when she realized the metal trays were rather warm on her arms.

Nathan shook his head at her and levitated the trays out of her arms and over to the table. "Sit down," he scolded gently, shaking his head. "What's the good of having a telekinetic around if you don't take advantage?"

"Can I take advantage all th' time?" she teased, rubbing her arms where the trays had laid. As she sat down at the table, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "Are ye sure we were th' one's doin' 'er a favor?" There was a pause. "Oh. Aye. Evil Clone Mr. Coffee. Aye, we were."

Nathan lifted the cover off one of the trays, unable to help a grin as he saw that it was the salmon he'd had at the dinner on that Saturday night. "You should do Lorna good turns more often," he said.

"Good ta see 'er back in th' kitchen," Moira murmured and ooohed quietly at her Maple Cider Chicken. "Though next time a certain someone messes wit' 'er coffee pot, there'll be deat' involved. An' pain. Lots o' pain."

"Only right," Nathan said tranquilly. "The coffeepot is sacrosanct." He transferred one of the salmon rolls to his own plate, and then, after a moment, added some of the chicken. They were supposed to be sampling for the purposes of comparison here. "She must be talented, if she's managing these recipes. Why was she ever out of the kitchen?"

Her face clouded over for a second as she put some food on her plate. "I--dinnae know th' whole story," she said quietly, thinking. "'Tis got somethin' ta do wit' Manuel. Th' specifics havenae come out yet, I think Lorna doesnae want ta talk 'bout them an' Manuel was nay specific in 'is journal when he mentioned it."

Nathan's mouth tried to twist, but he smoothed out his expression, making a mental note to stop putting it off and talk to Manuel tonight about Amanda. The boy seemed to wreak havoc wherever he went. He might not be able to do anything about most of it, but at least he had something (hopefully) productive to contribute on that subject. "Well," he said quietly, "I'm glad I got her these recipes, then." Lifting another lid, he made an appreciative noise. "Hey, it's the cannelloni."

Perking, Moira peeked over. "Oooo, 'ow many did ye give 'er, anyway?" she wondered, not at all complaining. With a critical eye, she looked at all the trays of food. She was going to hit a food coma *hard* after this was all done with.

"Oh, maybe a dozen," he said vaguely. "Some of them were breakfast recipes, though." He took one of the cannelloni and decided he had enough on his plate for now. "I can't believe we found space for all those books," he said, trying the chicken. If there was any difference from how it had tasted at the inn, he certainly couldn't tell.

"Yer jus' lucky I dinnae 'ave any o' my collections 'ere," she reminded him. The walls and shelves of her rooms had been painfully bare. Much like Leonard, she hadn't exactly come expecting to stay any length of time. And even when Rory mailed her the equipment from Muir, she hadn't requested any personal items. With a glance at the walls, she couldn't help but smile a little. This was more like it, the books nearly filling the shelves to overflowing gave it a sense of comfortability that she was beginning to like.

"Mmm," Nathan said, sampling the cannelloni next. The spices were a little different, but actually, he thought that made it better. "We should swap," he suggested, once he'd chewed and swallowed. "I can read one of your genetics books, you read something I picked. Broaden our horizons and all."

"Sounds interestin'," Moira agreed, reaching over and stealing a piece of cannelloni from his plate. It was easier than getting some for her own plate currently.

Nathan watched her for a moment, smiling to himself. "So," he said casually. "Are you going to ask?"

She looked at him, all innocent. And then she dropped it. "Damn yer 'ide," Moira sighed affectionately. "Ye know 'tis been buggin' me. 'ow *did* it go?" Her body tensed up slightly and her eyes looked worried.

"Even better today, actually," he confessed, still a little amazed that he could say that truthfully. "Didn't have any attacks of nerves, this time. It really helps that he's so careful to explain to me exactly what's happening." He gave Moira a vaguely sheepish look. "So hopefully no more incidents like last night." He had woken her up, having a nightmare about one of the telepaths he had known during training suddenly appearing in Charles' place.

"Good." Quickly, she put her fork down to reach for his hand. He'd apologized to her for nearly sending her flying off the bed when he jerked awake, the problem that came from using someone as your pillow, but she'd more concerned about him than her near tumble. "God, maybe this'll be behind ye soon," Moira said, mustering up her hope.

Nathan smiled, but decided not to respond to that, one way or the other. He was fairly sure he wouldn't be able to sound that optimistic if he tried - progress was progress, but he had thought his seven-day break was progress, too - and he really didn't want to put a damper on the occasion. "I should have gone to him weeks ago," he admitted.

"Aye, ye should 'ave," she responded, tightening her lips. "I'm good, Nathan but I'm jus' nay good enough right now." She gave a tight grin. "Folly o' me bein' 'uman, there's only so much I can do, up ta a point."

"Don't," he said, squeezing her hand. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here right now," he went on. "I think we both know that."

Sighing, she nodded and squeezed back. "I know, I'm sorry. Spend t' much time thinkin', I guess." Not wanting to let go, not just yet, Moira attempted to use the fork in her other hand. With not a whole lot of success.

"You and me both. We need a hobby."

"Besides readin' an'...well..." She flushed slightly and snickered. "But yer right, we do...besides me buryin' meself so far in work tha' I forget which way me shirts go..."

"We could pick something suitably shocking, to give the students something to talk about beside how 'cute' we are," Nathan said thoughtfully, and then gave her a lop-sided grin. "Bungee-jumping?"

"Ye really *are* tryin' ta give me white 'air," she responded, laughing. "Always wanted ta try spelunkin', though..."

"Interesting. I did some cave-diving once," he said, remembering. "It was business, though, not pleasure."

"Cave-divin' on...I really dinnae want ta know, do I?"

"Probably not," he said with a laugh, and tried the salmon. "I've done all kinds of interesting things on business that I wouldn't have minded trying under a little less pressure," he said after a moment, contemplatively.

"Oh?" Moira killed her helping of chicken and turned the plate to get to the salmon. She tilted her head at him, curious.

He smiled. "I don't know where I'd even start," he confessed, and then laughed again. "I should make a list."

"It'll give ye somethin' ta do," she pointed out, smirking a little.