xp_logs | Moira and Nathan, dining hall

Backdated to Saturday around lunch. After the hangover from his drinking session with Cain dies down to a tolerable level, Nathan ventures downstairs to find Moira. They talk about what happened and why he's still upset. He beats himself up efficiently enough that she doesn't need to lift more than a finger. They settle a few things and agree, again, that yes, they need a vacation.

The hangover itself was only moderately impressive. It had been Askani's decision to 'inform' him about her visit to Manuel's dreams as soon as he'd cracked an eye open on Cain's couch that was responsible for the bulk of the headache, Nathan told himself. Not to mention the high blood pressure. And the desire to break something very, very big.

It had been a couple of hours now, though, and he had decided to risk food. Not that he was at all hungry, but it was dawning on him that he actually hadn't had anything at all to eat in better than twenty-four hours. So he ventured downstairs to the kitchen and made himself a very easy-on-the-stomach sort of lunch. Moira's presence glowed softly in the back of his mind, and he hobbled in the direction of the dining hall, floating the plate and glass behind him.

Moira had spent some time in the sun room but when she had nearly fallen asleep, again, she'd decided that food and a change of scenery was probably for the best. Some lovely soul had stocked the fridge in the kitchen with the equivalent of someone's weight in fruit and she'd stolen a plate of it and some other things before heading towards the dining room.

Unfortunately, as she as she had curled up in a chair, she'd lost her appetite again. With a sigh, Moira pushed the food away from herself and flipped open the book in her lap, idly playing with her hair. The link in her mind brightened slightly but she waited for Nathan to make the first move, still rather annoyed at him for last night.

Nathan lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching her, and then went over to join her at the table. "Did the shielding on the link hold last night?" he asked a bit hesitantly.

She glanced at him over top of the book. "Aye, it did," she responded, flipping the page. "Dinnae notice a thin' except, ye know, comin' back at midnight after a frustratin' experiment ta nay findin' ye..."

"I... should have left a note," Nathan said, staring at his orange juice. "I'm sorry. I just had to get out for a while, and Cain was..."

"Bein' Cain, I know. An' aye, ye should 'ave. Last time ye took off, I found ye in a coffee shop, remember?" Eyes still glued on the book in her lap, Moira reached out blindly to try and find her glass of water.

His stomach twisted, but he told himself that she did have a point. "I'm sorry," he said again, very quietly. "I wasn't thinking. I know that's not an excuse, but I'll try not to do it again." He stopped, aware that hadn't come out quite right. "I mean, I'll try and think next time," he said, frustrated.

With a sigh, Moira finally closed the book, she hadn't been reading it anyway, and put it to the side. "Please do," she responded, just as quietly. "I dinnae need anythin' else ta sit up at night worryin' 'bout. Nay these days, anyway."

"I know." Nathan stared blindly at his plate for a moment, then poked at the sandwich. "It didn't really help, anyway," he admitted, almost under his breath. "You'd think I'd know that."

"Life lessons suck, dinnae they?" Moira asked, taking a drink of water. She'd been rather bad about hydrating herself as well lately. "But ye dinnae get 'urt, jus' yer pride from th' sounds o' it?"

"Cain wasn't about to let me do anything stupid." That much had been clear, even in the tequila haze. "And my pride should be used to it."

"Remind me ta thank Cain," she muttered. "An' yer pride will bounce back, ye know tha'."

Nathan laughed, rather more bitterly than he'd intended. "You'd think. Except I woke up to Askani this morning, telling me she'd gone visiting Manuel in his dreams and they'd come to an agreement." He picked up the sandwich, looked at it, then put it back down. "Nice to know that I can trust her to keep her word for at least a few hours after she gives it."

Cursing under her breath, Moira sat back in her chair. "Bloody 'ell...'ave ye dropped Charles' a line 'bout tha'? An' eat, ye'll feel better."

Nathan shrugged. "Ends, means. Manuel's going to let the Askani teach him, through me. Should I whine, when she made that much headway? Given that I was a tequila-sodden lump on Cain's couch when she was busy doing something constructive..."

Moira's nose wrinkled a little. "Tequila? Eewww. But maybe, a wee bit, aye. She did promise ye, after all."

"I'm being self-indulgent," Nathan said a bit stonily, forcing himself to take a bite of his sandwich. "Have to see about stopping that."

She rolled her eyes skyward for a second. "Stop tha'. Yer allowed ta be fuckin' self-indulgent at times."

The profanity was a bit of a shock, and he blinked at her for a moment, stopping in mid-chew. "No, I'm not," he muttered, once he'd swallowed. "And even if I was, I think I've been overdoing it lately."

"Fine, if yer nay allowed ta be self-indulgent, then never am I," Moira said, firmly, glowering at him harshly. "I'll post me rescheduled office 'ours later today, expand them, if ye like. Because, ye know, I think takin' time off is self-indulgent, yet I do it."

Nathan glared at her. "You're the least self-indulgent person I know."

Moira scowled. "Nathan, I think sleepin' sometimes is self-indulgin', remember? Could ye stop wallowin' for a second an' realize tha' yer allowed ta want ta do thin's for yerself?"

"That's not what I mean," Nathan protested. When had this conversation gone off track? "It's not wanting to do things, it's not wanting to do things..." He stopped again, grimacing in frustration again. "I don't want to be spending that much time with Manuel," he muttered. "I don't want him practicing his empathy around me, I don't want the Askani using me as a fucking mouthpiece. But I'm being selfish. Indulging my own stupid hang-ups and my pride."

"Yer allowed ta say nay. Yer allowed t' 'ave *Charles* there wit' ye, ye know! Ye 'ave verra good reasons why ye 'ave 'ang-ups! Maybe workin' wit' 'im will lessen them but if they make them worse..."

Nathan gave her a pained look. "And if I say no, they don't do it, and he continues the way he's going and grows up to..." He stopped, biting his lip. The dream didn't need discussing with Moira. "I'll talk to Charles about it," he said heavily. "I need his permission and Emma's, anyway. Not about to sneak around and do this behind their backs."

"Good," she muttered, scowling at him. "'ell, I'd recommend as a staff member tha' one o' them be there, at least for th' beginnin'. Makes me feel a whole lot better 'bout this bloody mess."

"I doubt the Askani will let me get away with any overly dramatic reactions," Nathan said with a very small, tight smile. "Whatever Manuel might do or say. And I doubt I'll be doing much of the actual teaching." There was some grumbling in the back of his head, but he ignored it, not wanting particularly to talk to any of them this afternoon.

Moira nodded, settling further back in her chair. "Dinnae rush inta it, for bot' yer sakes, aye?"

Nathan went to nod, then decided that wasn't such a good idea. "I slept, at least," he said with a sigh, rubbing his eyes.

"Pretty soundly, if I remember 'ow ye drink," Moira replied wryly, with only some amusement. "Amazed ye dinnae chase Cain out wit' th' snorin'."

Nathan regarded her bleakly for a moment. "I don't understand why you're not breaking something over my head," he said. "I am such a hypocrite."

"Because ye beat yerself up much better than I could? All I'd do is yell an' possibly throw somethin' at ye." She shrugged a little. "Figure yer givin' yerself a much 'arder time 'bout this whole thin' than I am."

Pushing his sandwich around his plate, Nathan tried very hard not to squirm under her level gaze. Take it like a man, his conscience said acidly. "I know it was a stupid thing to do," he muttered. "Just... wasn't really caring, while I was doing it."

"I know yer unhappy right now," Moira said, quietly. "An' God only knows I understand why ye did it better than most. I dinnae really like th' way ye went 'bout it, tha' ye cannae blame me for, but I can understand why."

Nathan gave up on the sandwich and sipped at his juice instead. "I'm not unhappy," he said quietly. "I'm just..." He trailed off, unable to find the right word.

Moira arched an eyebrow to urge him on, finishing off her water with a grimace.

Realizing she was planning to wait him out, Nathan sighed and tried to put it together in his head. "I know control is an illusion," he said slowly. "And I know there's not a lot I could have done to prevent most of the stuff that's happened lately. That doesn't change the fact that I still feel like everything's spinning out of control." He pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, struggling to keep his composure. "There's so much I want to do here and can't, or can't do properly when I keep staggering from one near-disaster to another. I feel like I'm... failing, before I even officially start."

"Yer nay failin'. Thin's 'ave been verra bad lately, we cannae escape tha' fact. But I learned a lon' time ago tha' sometimes all ye can do at a certain moment is survive an' when everythin's done an' over, then we go on. Nathan, all we've been able ta do lately is survive. Maybe now we can start gettin' it together t' move on." Moira wrinkled her nose slightly in thought. "Ye can call tha' failin', I call tha' life."

"Do you still want to go away?" he asked after a long, surprisingly not-awkward silence. He looked up at her hesitantly, unable to hide the mixture of shame and yearning. "Not right now, I know."

"Vacation?" Moira responded, sounding wistful. "Aye, I still do...why wouldnae I?"

"Sounds stupid, doesn't it?" Nathan asked with a grimace, shying away from her question. "I tell you it's bugging me not to have my act together here, and in the next breath suggest we take off for a while. It's a good thing no one ever accused me of being consistent."

Irritated, Moira poked vigorously at the link. "Why wouldnae I?" she repeated. "An' nay, it doesnae sound stupid."

Nathan took a shaky breath. "I didn't know you'd want to be around me alone, somewhere off by ourselves," he said, a slightly wild edge to the words despite his best efforts to keep them level. "Once you knew that she wasn't doing what she'd promised."

Later, she'd congratulate herself on her superb control by not beaning him in the head with her empty glass. Barely. "God, ye really cannae sometimes see further than yer own nose, can ye?" Moira snapped, seething. "Damn it, Daysprin', I went wit' ye--DRAGGED ye, if ye recall--t' th' cabin. ALONE. After ye turned *trees* inta *glass*. Remember tha'? If ye really think I wouldna want ta spend time wit' ye, then after seven years, ye really dinnae know me verra well at all, do ye?!" Amid the anger lay traces of hurt in her words and it was only by sheer will of force that she didn't turn and stomp out of the dining room.

"It was just me, then!" Nathan snarled back shakily, the jolt of anger up the link pushing him into a sharper reaction that he should have allowed himself. "Not her, and them..."

"So, does it really make any difference?" she retorted. "Wha', ye expected me ta run off because o' those lot?"

"I--" He stopped, swallowing the instinctive response. All of the anger had drained out of him suddenly, leaving nothing behind but fatigue and uncertainty. "I didn't," he said more softly, his voice still unsteady. "I just worry. I don't... really trust her right now. Or myself."

If Moira had felt what he started to say through the link, she didn't react to it. "But I *do* trust ye," she responded simply. "Or does tha' nay count now?"

Nathan looked up at her, saw the truth of her words shining resolutely in her mind, and he gave a pained laugh, resting his face in one hand for a moment. "Fuck, I need to shut up... nothing resembling sense is coming out of my mouth this morning." He took a deep, shaky breath, looking back up at her. "It does count," he said quietly. "Counts for more than I can say, and I love you for it. I'm just doing my best impression of a basket case today. I think it's the hangover." He managed a faint smile.

Slowly, she relaxed a little and sagged back in her chair, anger going away just as slowly. "Told ye tha' ye could do a better job o' beatin' yerself up than I could."

"It's my second favorite pastime," Nathan said, and very tentatively touched the link in a swift, almost skitterish caress. "Can we be serious about setting a date?" he murmured. "I guess it's got to be before the start of those summer classes, but I don't think either of us wants to take off out of here tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow would be bad because I dinnae really plan on movin' until noon," Moira said, smiling a little as she touched the link in a longer caress. "As lon' as I can get everythin' int' a good plan, I'm pretty good. A weekend would be nice, though."

"We'll come up with something good," Nathan said, going back to poking at his food. "Give us both a chance to get some perspective on all of this." He didn't know who he was trying to convince, Moira or himself. And the sandwich was annoying him. It just sat there and acted unappetizing.

"God, do we ever." She eyed his sandwich. "Ye goin' ta play wit' tha'? I think it may 'elp ye more by eatin' it." Moira completely ignored her own untouched food in front of her.

"I'm still having trouble with the eating thing," Nathan said with a sigh. "Much like the sleeping thing." He eyed her plate. "Pot, kettle, black, though."

"I tried!" she protested. "I'll jus' put this back so it doesnae go bad an' get somethin' later. Ye need ta eat, though, yer th' one who's nay only injured but sportin' a 'angover."

"We make a hell of a pair," he observed with a certain weary amusement, picking up his juice and sipping at it again. "Have to go somewhere with decent food, so that our appetites come back from wherever they ran off to, huh?"

"Accordin' ta th' kids, we're positively adorable," Moira responded, grinning a little bit. "Aye, good food...tha's everywhere but England." She winked at him but pushed her plate a little further away from her. "Jus' remember, ye 'ave ta eat more than I do right now."

"Stubborn woman," Nathan said. "Next thing I know, you'll be force-feeding me my calcium pills."

She tilted her head at him slightly. "Only if yer nay takin' them," she said, a little too sweetly. "Which ye are, right?" The thought of pills reminded her that she might possibly want to look into starting to take some vitamin pills herself, especially considering that her appetite had headed south lately.

"Yes, I am." He made a bit of a face at the sandwich, but then froze, his eyes going wide as he looked up at Moira. "It... isn't possible that your appetite isn't what it should be because mine isn't... is it?" he asked uncertainly. "You could be picking it up on the link, or... hell, you could be getting some of this psychic spillover down the link, too."

Moira frowned in thought. "I...dinnae know, really," she said slowly, racking her brain. "I mean, this 'appens ta me after large amounts o' stress." Worry from Nathan was starting to seep down the link and she touched it, trying to soothe him. "Th' link 'as gotten deeper, though..."

Nathan swallowed. "Guess I shouldn't jump to conclusions," he said, deeply rattled by the thought. "But it's a possibility..."

"If ye think tha's a possibility, then we'll jus' 'ave ta focus on gettin' yer appetite back." She leaned over and touched the back of his hand. "'ey, 'tis okay...'tis somethin' tha' can be worked around."

"And the sleeping thing?" He gave a strained little laugh. "Are you not sleeping because of all the stress, or not sleeping because I'm not sleeping? Or both?" Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment, telling himself to calm down.

"Nathan, calm down," Moira chided. "An' probably bot' but if'n if we werenae linked it would still be bot'. Ye really think I can sleep well when ye're lyin' awake at night?"

Nathan opened his eyes and looked at her, smiling a bit unsteadily as her hand tightened on his. "I don't sleep well when you're not sleeping, either," he said softly.

"Then 'tis nay jus' ye, so please stop feelin' guilty about this?"

"But I do it so well," Nathan said, and managed a half-decent sorrowful look. "Don't I?"

Moira rolled her eyes at him in exasperation. "Only t' well sometimes, love. We bot' do."

Nathan stared into her eyes for a long moment, some of his tension easing as she met his gaze forthrightly, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Okay," he said quietly, smiling back just as slightly. "So, no more tequila binges. I mean, there is one sure-fire way to wear us both out at nights, but I've been kind of at a disadvantage lately." He let his eyes flicker to his cast and then back to her face, just in time to catch the slight blush.

The room felt slightly hotter and Moira stuck her tongue out at him at the slightly smug look he now sported. "We'll jus' 'ave ta work on tha', then," she replied, teasing just a little as she moved her hand so she could tuck it into his. "'opefully, ye'll be feelin' better by whenever we decide ta take our vacation."

"I'm feeling better already," Nathan said, and realized with surprise that he meant it.