xp_logs | Pete and Moira, Backdated to last Saturday

x-mactaggart.livejournal.com posting in

Pete attempts to have a relaxing afternoon but that's interrupted by Moira who takes one look at him and demands to know why he isn't in New York. There's some confusion, some mild, fun insulting comments and then they figure out that there just might be a problem with Nathan.

It'd been quite a light day. A few kids needing their hands held, and a couple needing a reminder that yes, this actually was a school, and there was work to be
done, but other than that, there hadn't been a lot to do - he was waiting to hear from a couple of friends in Britain about what was happening regarding the Excalibur group that Essex had established as a covert ID for him - since all his various back-door clearances still seemed to still be working, either he hadn't been found out, or Essex had been on the level with that, at least, but until he had a better idea what was going on there, he wasn't going to push anything.

But while he was waiting for them to call, he'd parked himself on a bench outside with a whisky and pack of fags, and a copy of "The New Rulers Of The World", and was enjoying the early evening sunshine.

Moira had forced herself to go outside for a walk, away from the lab and from staring at the phone. With Nathan gone and no word as of yet on the Muir situation, she knew there was a danger of driving herself up a wall.

So, much to the surprise of the other doctors, she'd grabbed a mug full of hot coffee and made her way outside. Moira kept telling herself that Nathan would be fine. The link was still there, he trusted this man and, besides, he had said the other night he'd ask Pete to go with him, right? From what she had gathered from both men, they'd done their fair share of watching each other's backs, which was reassuring. Between Nathan and Pete, the situation would be fine.

"Good afternoon, Pete," she said, not quite cheerfully, she wasn't there yet, as she walked in front of the bench where he had sprawled out in the sun.

Two steps later brought her to a screeching halt as her mind caught up with her and Moira turned on her heel. "Wha' th' bloody 'ell are ye doin' *'ere*?" she demanded, looking for all the world like she had just seen a ghost.

Pete blinked. "I'm sitting here reading a book, what does it bloody look like? I'm even being a good boy and smoking outside, so I'm not fucking up anyone's lungs but me own. Why, should I be dealing with some kid whose boyfriend has just dumped them, or something?"

"Yer supposed t' be in New York!" Moira yelped, still staring at him like he'd suddenly sprouted wings, a tail and another head. An ugly head at that. "Wit' Nathan. New York, Nathan, ringin' any bells?"

"Has that fucking engine fuel you call coffee got hallucinogenic properties, or something? Or are you having flashbacks to a couple of weeks ago, you mad Scottish baggage? I am supposed to be sitting here, reading my fucking book, because Nate and I are going for drinks in a day or two, not tonight..." He took a drag on his cigarette.

"'as th' bloody smoke gotten int' yer 'ead all ready, ye British pillock? Nathan said 'e was..." Her eyes widened and then narrowed as the blood suddenly left her face. "O' *shit*. I'm goin' t' bloody well kill 'im. 'e *told* me 'e was goin' ta ask ye t' come wit' 'im t' this damned meetin' o' 'is, jus' in case it was a trap! Nathan dinnae even ask ye at all?"

Pete's eyes narrowed.

"Apparently not, since this is the first I've heard of any bloody meeting. And what's this about a trap? Has the daft bastard gone off to do something incredibly
stupid again?"

"When doesnae 'e do tha'?" With a curse that sounded more worried than angry, Moira plopped down on the bench next to him. "I'm goin' t' assume 'e told ye 'bout Mistra's message t' us. 'e got an e-mail th' other night, said it 'ad some codewords from 'is time there, tha' th' person said 'e 'ad information 'e *needed* t' 'ear. Good chance tha' this is safe, good chance tha' 'tis a trap. An' Nathan damn well told me 'e was goin' ta ask ye alon' for backup!"

"I heard about the package Mistra sent, yeah, but I haven't heard word one about emails, codewords or meetings. D'you know where he's gone, beyond into the city?" Pete set his book down.

She shook her head, eyes tight with worry. "Nay a bloody word 'bout it. Jus' tha' 'e 'ad t' go an' tha' 'e could 'andle it." Moira snorted. "Granted, tha's when 'e told me 'e'd be draggin' *ye* alon'! Th' link's still there, shielded, but there, so I know 'e's alive. Damn 'im, why dinnae 'e say anythin' ta ye?"

"I don't know. When he gets back though, do me a favour and leave some of him intact, because I'd like a few words with him about that myself." One last drag on the cigarette, then he stubbed it out in the ashtray he'd brought with him.

"I'll try." She frowned at her feet. "An' I know 'e wouldnae want me goin' t' look for 'im." Moira rolled her eyes. "'e's probably given 'alf th' mansion instructions nay t' let me leave because they sent me tha' picture." It was a bit of a war trying to decide if she was pleased to be protected or annoyed.

"Not to mention not having a bloody clue where to start. I swear, I'm going to fit everyone in the damn place with a sodding GPS tracker, the rate everyone vanishes off into the unknown."

Pete scowled.

"Still, he's a big boy, and if your link's still there then he should be OK - if they wanted him dead, there'd be no point in dragging it out. He'll be back soon. Probably with an irritating grin on his face. You know, the one that says 'I just got to blow up something really big'..."

Moira winced but nodded. "Aye, I suppose yer right. But this jus' bloody doesnae make any sense. All I can say is 'e better 'ave a good explanation for nay takin' ye alon' an' 'e better get 'ome on time."

"And if he doesn't, I say we chain him to a wall, or something. See if he can be made to bloody learn."

Pete stood up.

"I'm going to make a few calls - there's a guy in the NYPD owes me a favour or three, so I'll get 'em to pass the word round to keep an eye out. Don't expect it'll do much good, but it can't hurt."

She smiled a little. "Thanks. Tha'll 'elp relieve me mind, somewhat, at least. I'm goin' ta do wha' I've been doin', I guess. Waitin'. An' when 'e gets back, we can bot' kick 'is ass."