Wednesday afternoon, Jamie and Moira, and Jamie and Marie-Ange

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ETA: Now with extra loggy goodness!

They talk coffee, gambling, argue briefly over whether Moira and Nathan are cute, and then Jamie sticks his foot so far down his throat he can kick his own ass. Random fun fluff.


Moira carefully set the coffee mug on the kitchen counter and started rooting through the cabinets. The kids apparently took some bizarre pleasure in taking things out of their proper boxes, putting them in something completely different than what it was and hiding it. There would be a good deal of death if she discovered her beloved coffee mix stuffed into some Wheat Thins box, or some other nasty American cracker.

She'd run out in the lab, or more specifically the other two residents of the lab probably hid it from her, and she was starting to get a little desperate. The normal coffee here was weak enough to feed a small child and it would take at least two hours to brew properly.

Jamie wandered into the kitchen, vaguely in the mood for a snack. He'd hidden a half-dozen peanut butter cookies individually inside some empty snack-size boxes of raisins, and now might be a good time to raid them. "Hey, Doc," he said cheerily when he caught sight of Moira. "Making a munchie run? There's chocolate-covered coffee beans in the Wheat Thins box, I think."

"Well, at least tha' rules out someone stashin' me coffee in it," Moira remarked dryly but still reached for the box any way. When one could not have coffee quickly enough, chocolate-covered coffee beans normally helped for a little bit. "Wha' is it wit' everyone's obsession wit' th' mix an' match boxes around 'ere, anyway?"

"Well, I started stashing stuff in the fish sticks box in the freezer upstairs, and it kinda snowballed from there, I think. It's just snacks, though. Lorna would murder us all with paper clips if we messed with her cooking ingredients. How you doing?"

"I'm verra close t' at least danglin' someone over th' lake if'n I cannae find me coffee." She grinned at Jamie over her shoulder. "Better. Th' beginnin' o' this week was 'ell but I think 'tis calmin' down now. All I'm currently jugglin' are some reluctant students, wha' else is new, an' a slightly grumpy Nathan." Moira paused in her search to consider what she just said. "Again, wha' else is new? 'ow're ye?"

"I'm good. The kids are a little wigged what with Sarah taking off without any warning, but they don't stay down for long. And Kitty's done with most of the work for her extra college classes, so she has more free time, and that's always a good thing." He snickered, reminded of something. "I think Amanda wins Kitty's pool on what Nathan's going to end up teaching, by the way. And hey--if you can't find your coffee, want I should whip up a batch of my grandpa's? I don't have a used army sock to strain it through, but he taught me a couple ways to get around that."

She paused and thought about that. "Aye, sure. Tha' stuffs nearly as bloody potent as me own brew." Moira grinned again. "Gives me a chance t' sit down fer once an' eat some o' these coffee beans." As she settled in the chair, she gave what Jamie said some thought. "I 'ope Sara' knows what she's doin'. If'n she comes back before exams, she's goin' ta 'ave a 'ell o' a time. An' did ye say bet?"

Jamie busied himself at the coffeepot. "She'll probably stay past exams, then. Which means--oh wait--I'm developing precognition--you guys'll make her take summer classes to make up the work." He shot a grin over his shoulder. "Yeah, Kitty runs a pool whenever somebody shows up just to stay temporarily while they take care of a couple things. I think Amanda had international politics instead of languages, though, so I dunno if Kitty'll pay out. It's kind of a grey area."

Moira waited until after she finished chewing the current coffee bean to cock an eyebrow at Jamie. "I've been suddenly informed o' bets bein' takin' at me an' Nathan's expense from me own family. Wouldnae 'appen t' 'appen 'ere as well, would it?"

"Heh. Wouldn't you like to know."

"Is tha' sayin' I can take tha' fer an aye?"

"I think the boyfriend code prohibits me from commenting either way." He grinned. "You guys were awfully cute practically right from the start, though, you have to admit."

Moira rolled her eyes. "We are nay cute. An' we were t' busy yellin' at each other an' tryin' t' prevent Nathan from fallin' on 'is 'ead t' be cute."

"You were yelling in a cute way. And come on, 'once upon a time there was a soldier?' I wish I'd thought of something like that."

She really couldn't help but laugh at that. "God, 'e was so bloody cu...amusin'," Moira amended with a flash of humor. "As if 'e thought I'd enjoy th' likes o' Pym." She grimaced.

"Hey, that reminds me. Who was the evil genius who got that story about him put in the Enquirer? That was way better than the stink bomb."

The sudden, smug, very satisifed grin settled on her face. "Tha' would be Dom's doin'. We ran int' th' moron in New York, 'e got a wee bit 'ostile wit' me when I tried ta get 'im ta leave me alone. Dom stepped in an' then...th' rest is 'istory."

"Dom is . . . Nathan's friend, that he was nervous about her coming to town because he thought he'd screwed things up with her? She's freaking brilliant. I haven't done anything with national news media yet."

"I'm some'ow rather relived. Though I was placin' bets on Lorna's revenge gettin' ye in th' papers. Th' obituaries still count these days, aye?"

Jamie grinned. "I was proud of that one. Tricky piece of engineering. And she hasn't done any revenge yet, so she's probably saving up."

Moira looked slightly horrified. "Lad, I'd build meself a bomb shelter. Tha' was pure evil right there. I couldnae even figure out wha' ye did ta it for three days an' I juryri' me coffee pots all th' time."

Jamie bowed. "Like I said, tricky work. And hey--the worst she can do is kill me, right?"

"O', nay lad. Ye mess wit' a women's coffee? There are so many fates wort' than deat'." Moira smirked over at him, the promise clear that if he ever even thought for a nanosecond about touching her sacrosanct coffee...

"Heh. I know that look. That's my mom's 'you know, sometimes I keep the medical instruments in the freezer' look. Kind of lost on your average cow, but it works great on obnoxious children, let me tell you." He nodded at the coffeepot, just starting to perk. "Nothing wrong with that one, though, I promise."

"O' good," she said sweetly. "Because I'd really, really 'ave ta 'ate movin' yer yearly physical from next fall t'...soon. I probably know a wee more tricks wit' th' tools o' th' trade than yer mum, I can promise ye tha'."

"I bet you do. On the other hand, I bet you haven't ever fed a cow a magnet, either."

"I...nay, I 'avenae." Moira stared at him. "Do I really want ta know?"

"Sometimes they get into feed with old wire in it, if they go places they aren't supposed to, and the wire gets stuck up in their digestive systems. The magnets help get it out, sometimes, or else there's surgery. Gotta be one of the weirdest vet medicines I've ever seen, though."

Slowly, Moira remembered to close her mouth. "Wow. I'll file tha' one away jus' in case any o' ye kids decide ta get weird on us. Never know wha' may come in 'andy wit' treatin' injuries at a school. Especially this one."

"Yeah, I think that was one of the reasons I got used to this place so fast, I used to help my mom out. Once you've been elbow-deep in a cow uterus, nothing freaks you out anymore."

"God, ye would be one o' th' ones ta try 'aggis, wouldnae ye?" She smiled a little. "If'n me uncle ever makes it out ta visit, I'll 'ave 'im make some. Jus' ta 'ear th' reactions, mainly. But aye, yer right. There are certain thin's tha' make it pretty damn 'ard ta phase me these days. Never a cow but close."

"Haggis is freaky and wrong." Jamie paused for thought. "I'd do it on a bet, though."

"I'll 'ave ta keep tha' in mind, then. 'aggis is neither freaky or wron'. 'Tis actually quite tasty when done right." Moira grimced. "When done wron'...uuuggghh."

"The stomach is the part the food goes in. It isn't food. I bet whoever came up with it was either drunk, or he'd had the rest of the sheep taken by some greedy lord."

"...ye ARE talkin' 'bout th' Scottish, Jamie. It could verra well 'ave been bot'." She laughed, suddenly and shook her head. "Reminds me o' a story me da used ta tell. Some Aunts, great several times over, went t' America once. They saw some fireflys an' were 'eard ta remark "Och, isnnae tha' lovely? I bet we could catch th' buggers an' use them ta light our 'ome, savin' us some money." So verra likely bot'."

Jamie snickered. "Your family sounds about as fun as mine."

"Me entire familiy is completely nutters. But in a good way."

"Definitely sounds like my family. We're pretty sure the sense of humor is genetic, for one thing."

"I could test tha'," Moira offered cheerfully before leaning back into her chair. "God knows temper an' bull'eadedness run in me family. At least on me mum's side."

"Well, after I got everybody with laxative cookies at my grandfather's wake and they laughed--or at least they did once the cramps wore off--I think it's pretty well proven." Jamie grinned. "Nathan knows about the the temper, right?"

"Ye...o' tha's evil." She grinned back. "O' course 'e does. I think 'e thinks 'tis part o' me charm. I warn ye know, though, if'n 'e an' I ever really get goin', find a storm cellar an' wait it out."

Jamie waved. "Hi, Kansas boy. I've actually been in storm cellars. Do you and Nathan devastate entire counties?"

"Give us time! Nay, we jus' get rather loud an' there was one time when 'e made all me lab equipment float. O', like tha' 'elped calm me down any."

"Well, if he thinks it's cute, maybe he was trying to keep you going?"

Moira snerked at the memory. "Ooohhh, nay tha' time, lad. 'Twas one o' our uglier fights, let me put it tha' way. Nay, 'e thinks 'tis cute ta dump me in a lake."

"That's probably the clinginess," Jamie said absently, then looked faintly croggled. "And, yeah, okay, I need to self-edit before I talk."

Her eyebrow edged up a bit. "Aye, maybe ye do. Care t' explain a wee bit?"

"Well, there's the dumping in the lake, and then there's the climbing out, and then there's clothes clinginess. Assuming there are clothes, and oh my God somebody make me stop talking."

Moira very nearly choked on a coffee bean in a sudden fit of giggles. "O' God...nay, go on this is bloody hysterical!" She took another look at Jamie, face nearly completely red, and lost it again, giggling uncontrollably.

"No, I think I'm going to stop there before I implode. No offense, Doc, you're nice-looking and stuff, but those were mental images I didn't need." Jamie shook his head, ears violently red. "I really need to practice my shutting up."

"Tis cute, really...an' bloody 'ysterical." Calming down a little, she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Oohhh, I needed tha' laugh, thanks. An' nay offense taken, I'd be weirded out other wise."

"Heh. Well, anything in the service of a laugh, then. I think the coffee's about ready."

"O', thank God. An' yer grandfather."


And, after this series of e-mails, Jamie goes down to the music room to get his cards read, and they come up with a highly creative interpretation of the results.


Jamie pushed open the door to the music room, grinning at the tentative bass notes thrumming in the air, and only slightly apprehensive about the upcoming reading. Angie's dream had been wiggy, to say the least , and he was pretty much done underestimating other people's mutant powers, but . . . the future was weird, and you could never tell what dreams really meant.

"Hey, Angie. You're sounding better."

"Merci." Marie-Ange grinned. "If you can give me a second, I should finish the excercise." She glanced down at the guitar for a moment. "I am going to get this right, eventually. If only to thwart the Damned Cello."

"The cello must be stopped," Jamie agreed. "The bass is cooler anyway. Also, it gets you a spot in the band." He grinned.

"I was in total agreement, until that last part. " Angie said, smiling and setting the guitar down carefully. "I have a horrible fear Doug will be a ham and I will mess up because of it." She glanced around the room. "This is.. probably a good of a place as any, if you still want that reading. "

"Probably a justified fear. Guy turns into an animal onstage." Jamie's grin flagged slightly. "Yeah, let's do it. Do I need to do anything, or . . . how does this work?"

Marie-Ange looked down at the floor sheepishly. "To be honest, I am not certain it matters. I have Doug shuffle the cards a few times when I read for him, I think I had Angelo do the same." She thought for a minute, then sat down on the floor, and pulled the now-familiar cards from her bookbag, and unwrapped them, then looked at Jamie carefully. "This always feels so silly, like I should be burning incense or chanting."

"Or wearing a green visor and calling for bets? We could go get the mice . . ."

"I have no idea how to use the mice yet." Angie grinned, and started shuffling absently. "Right now, they are just cute pets who happen to annoy Clarice lots."

"They're earning their keep already, then." Jamie returned her grin as he hunkered down on the floor to watch the cards.

Angie shuffled a few more times, then, paying closer attention to her cards, straightened them, and held the deck out to Jamie. "It probably cannot hurt for you to shuffle them."

"OK." Jamie took the cards and shuffled them clumsily, although without managing to spill any. His lips quirked as he handed them back. "Little trickier than normal-size cards."

Angie nodded. "It takes practice." She frowned down at the cards a bit, and shuffled them one last time, then divided them into two piles. "I should probably do a clarification spread, because I do not think there is a specific question you want to ask, and I still feel very silly about this." She grinned sheepishly, and set the two piles in front of her.

"I'll handle the all-important nodding and smiling and pretending I know what you're talking about, then."

Marie-Ange snickered, and shuffled the piles again, laying out two cards from each, placing them to form a diamond shape on the floor, with the cards all face-down. "The top card and bottom are are.. supposed to be emotional, and the left and right are thinking cards. " She made a face, and turned over the card at the top of the diamond, revealing a card with a older man, seated on a throne.

"I rule?" He grinned.

"Someone does." Marie-Ange said, through a snicker. "Usually this card means someone who is in charge, or a teacher." She wrinkled her nose. "and this here should mean what you are trying to do, a goal you are trying to achieve."

"I thought you said that was one of the emotional cards?" Jamie cocked his head. "I don't think I get it. Maybe it'll make more sense with the rest of them."

Marie-Ange frowned. "It is.. like, a personal goal. Something you feel very strongly that you want to do, perhaps? I do not understand it either." She shrugged, and flipped over the leftmost card. This card showed a woman, robed in blue, and on a similar throne. "This is... odd. It should be the things that will help you, people you will depend on."

"Huh. Kitty, maybe, she looks good in blue. How is it odd?"

"That is.. usually my card, and even when it is not, The High Priestess usually means a mystery, or the unknown, and I just do not see how the unknown can help you." Angie frowned, and poked the card, moving it slightly. There didn't seem to be another card under it, and while she knew that was far-fetched, it had happened before.

"Oh, well, then." Jamie grinned. "Probably means you this time. Nothing weird about that, I already knew I could depend on you."

Marie-Ange nodded. "It just does not come up often.. " She smiled gently. "Except for Doug."

"No surprise about that, either. So what's next?"

Marie-Ange flipped over the right most card, and smiled. "This one I understand." The card showed a young man, in a brightly coloured outfit, juggling two gold disks. "Two of Pentacles, and that is the card that is yours. It is... what you show to the outside world, what people see you as."

Jamie grinned. "I have a card? Cool." He studied it. "I dunno about that hat, though."

Angie laughed. "It is a very bad hat, and I promise, for my art project, the you for this card is not wearing it."

"Oh, good. I'd look weird with a giant pencil eraser on my head. One more, and we see if it all makes any sense?"

Marie-Ange nodded, and turned over the last card, which showed a standing figure, holding two staves. "Two of Wands, which.. this card should be the how you achieve your goals, and the card indicates willpower." She tilted her head. "Or boldness, or daring.. " She frowned, and shut her eyes, trying to concentrate.

Jamie opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again in case Angie was going into some sort of precognitive trance, and her nose would fall off if she got startled out of it. He was pretty sure Doug would want an explanation for the missing nose.

Marie-Ange counted in her head, and pulled up the mental image of the mirror-her that she associated with her precognition. Leadership, and the unknown and Jamie himself, and willpower, and they did make an odd kind of sense, just not in relation to that nightmare. She frowned, and let her mind wander, letting it follow whatever little paths it wanted to take. After a few moments, she re-opened her eyes, and rubbed at her temple. "I have.. no idea what that means. I keep .. seeing you in your leather pants, I think, and telling people what to do." She shrugged. "It isn't very clear, like it is trying to .. get away from me."

"Huh. Doesn't seem to fit the dream, but still, nifty. Thanks."

Marie-Ange sighed, and slumped her back slightly. "No, it .. really does not. I am not sure why." She shrugged. "At least it was not cheese, or aborginal Slayers, right?"

"Always a plus. It might just have been a weird random dream anyway. " Jamie grinned. "You didn't try thinking about how my powers work before you went to bed, did you? Because you know that gives you a headache."

Marie-Ange made a mock-horrified face. "I like my head intact, thank you. I try to not think about your powers as much as possible." She shook her head, and gathered up the cards. "Or it might make a lot of sense later, when we find out that you are secretly Agent Smith.. "

Jamie leveled a menacing stare at Angie. "Welcome to Rivendell, Mr. Anderson."

For a moment, Angie tried to maintain a straight face, and not bust out laughing. Then, she gave up, and bent over, giggling uncontrollably. "I cannot watch The Matrix anymore, you know. "

"See, Morpheus got it wrong. He was supposed to be looking for the One Ring. But he skimmed the assignment, didn't catch the last word, and stuck everybody with Keanu Reeves. And this is why we should doublecheck our homework."

Marie-Ange blinked. "That makes more sense than it should, Jamie. Or else, my headache is worse than I thought..." She snickered. "I suppose Morpheus would be Gandalf then, and Neo is.. Aragorn?"

"No, see, Neo is Neo. Or possibly Gollum. You can tell the difference because Viggo Mortenson is cool."

Marie-Ange laughed. "Cipher is Gollum. Neo is ... maybe Tom Bombadill, and should have never been in the movie in the first place?"

Jamie snickered. "Don't tell Doug. Bombadil works, though, yeah. Although now you've gone and made me imagine Keanu Reeves breaking into random moments of song, and so I must share the pain by giving you the mental image too."

Angie tried to answer. Twice. Unfortuanlty, it came out as giggled nonsense, and a clutching of her head as though she was in horrible pain. Which she obviously was not, because of the snickering.

"You see what you get?" Jamie asked through a snickering fit of his own. "Keanu Reeves is just plain disturbing."

"And Keanu singing is just horrific. Evil madman horrible." Angie laughed. "You should take over the world, Take over with horrible visions of Keanu Reeves on Broadway."

"And then I could wear my leather pants while I tell everyone in the world what to do, and your reading would be dead on!"

"See, that must be it. It makes so much sense now," she said, through a continual giggling fit.