Moira and Rory, over the phone

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Rory gives Moira a call with news on Muir. She finds out who W.H.O. (Weird Happenings) is, who's running the show (the Stuart twins) and Rory finds out about her and Nathan and let's something almost slip.



With a frown, Moira tried the phone again. Nothing but a busy signal. Her eyes flicked over to the e-mail Rory had sent her. No one was answering the phone in the back of the pub, which wasn’t unusual. Well, she could always try again.

As she reached for it, it rang and she jerked back slightly, startled. Laughing at herself, she grabbed it. “MacTaggart. Xavier’s.”

“Ah, so it’s Xavier’s your answering to, is it?” a voice rumbled from the other end of the phone, slightly British, rather tired but very amused.

“Rory, ye old bastard,” she replied, cheerfully. “I was jus’ tryin’ ta call ye!”

“What did you forget my cellphone number all *ready*, you Scottish heathen?”

“Wha’, ye thought I’d remember anythin’ but me name currently?” she teased, settling herself further into the couch.

“Well, I could only hope, Moira. I knew you were getting older this month but really, to lose that mind of yours…what a waste.”

“One o’ these days, yer goin’ ta find tha’ blasted leg o’ yers shoved up somewhere completely uncomfortable, Rory me lad.”

“Promises, promises.”

Moira frowned. “Rory, really, ‘ow are ye? I’m sorry I couldnae get on th’ other night, I ‘ad me ‘ands full.”

“Too full for Muir, eh, Moira?” Rory asked quietly. “But I’m doing all right. I’ve been better but Anna keeps forcing food at me, so I’ll guess I’ll survive.”

“Wha’ do ye mean, t’ full for Muir?” she snapped, sitting up a bit straighter. “I ‘ad a bloody emergency on me ‘ands, ye daft Brit. I dinnae even get tha’ e-mail until later when ye werenae on!”

“…I’m sorry, all right? Look, I apologized.”

“So ye did. Anna’s feedin’ ye, eh?”

“Yes, thank God. I wasn’t exactly gorging myself while in the lab. Speaking of the lab, Moira…”

“Aye?”

“I got a call the other day, it’s why I’m here. On “vacation”. Parliament talked with the American government. Seems neither side really wants this to go public, you know? Rather embarrassing all the way around.”

“Makes sense, I suppose.”

“They’re sending in W.H.O. with some disguised military types under Brigadier Alysande Stuart, with her brother Doctor Alistaire Stuart, we’ve heard of him, leading up the private sector.”

Moira gaped. “They’re…they’re bloody well usin’ th’ Weird ‘appein’s Organization?!”

“Apparently, it was the only thing they could agree on that would make it look very much unmilitary like as possible.”

“Well, ye really cannae get much farther removed from th’ military than Dr. Stuart, tha’s fer sure. When are they movin’ in an’ wha’s goin’ ta ‘appen?”

“I’m not sure. When is sometime at the end of this week. I was told that one of the Stuart twins would give you a ring. What’s going on? Who knows? That Brigadier is friendly enough but bloody hell, it was like trying to charm your uncle.”

“Me uncle’s easy t’ charm.”

“When it’s you, you mean.”

“Maybe ‘e’s got a wee soft spot for me. So, wha’ ‘appens after tha’?”

“You’ll get Muir back, they’ve promised that. I’m safe right now, they’ve got some nice officers keeping an eye on the main town and the inn.”

Moira paused and took a deep breath. “O’ thank God,” she murmured over the line. “T’ all o’ it.”

“Moira, is something wrong, hen?” Rory’s slip back into the name he used when they had first met spoke volumes about how worried he was. “Come on, talk to me.”

“’Tis jus’ been a crazy time, again, Rory. Between Nathan an’ th’ kids an’ all th’ ‘ell breakin’ loose in th’ States.”

“…Dayspring is still there?”

A sudden sinking feeling in her stomach reminded Moira that she had yet to tell Rory that she and Nathan were official. “Aye, ‘e is…”

“How long?” The words were terse and clipped.

“Looks like ‘tis goin’ ta be a while. Rory…we’re…”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re dating him?” Desperation.

“Well, as much as ye can actively date when there’s this much confusion goin’ on.” Her mind flicked back to the weekend in the mountains and she smiled. “But, aye, we’re together.”

“Officially?”

“Well, aye, o’ course,” she snapped a little.

“Moira, I…damn it, he’s not good for you!”

“Wha’ th’ bloody ‘ell do ye mean by tha’?!”

“I mean what it means! I mean he’s going to get you hurt, physically or emotionally! He’s not exactly in a nine to five job, hen!”

“O’, like we are? Rory, wha’s gotten int’ ye?”

“Y—I don’t like him.”

“Really? I wouldnae ‘ave figured tha’ out. Please, enlighten me some more!”

“Moira!” There was a sigh. “You’re going to get hurt. What do you see in him?”

“Friendship. Understandin’. ‘urt. Pain.” Moira winced. “Rory…we’re linked.”

“You’re what?”

“Linked. Telepathically.”

“What did the bastard do to you?!”

“Wha’? Nothin’! Rory, ‘e dinnae do anythin’! I started it, somehow. Dinnae ask me, I dinnae really know ‘ow it started!”

“Damn it, Moira, I thought you were smarter than that to get mixed up in—in—“

“In wha’, Rory, wha’! I *love* ‘im an’ ‘e damn well, loves me. An’ it jus’…’tis feels right, for once. It does, why dinnae ye understand tha’?”

“…and don’t I, hen?” he whispered over the phone.

“Rory, wha’…”

“Nothing, Moira. Look, I’ve got to go. I promised Anna and your uncle that I’d give a helping hand tonight. I’ll talk to you when I have more news.”

“Rory—“

*click*