Day One

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Moira wakes up after a quick nap and Nathan follows shortly. They relax and chatter a bit and then later head out to the pool. Nathan teases Moira and manages to get her to blush a few times.



For a second, as Moira struggled to fight out of being asleep, she was confused. The sounds, smell and feel of where she was in certainly weren't familiar. Well, except Nathan. Nathan was familiar. She grumped a little as a breeze woke her up even more, wrapping herself tighter around Nathan in an attempt to stop the process. But the smell of the ocean finally brought her out of it and she raised her head a little to look around.

Nathan had arranged for one of the larger rooms, the honeymoon suite much to the winking amusement of the staff and Moira's intense blush at check in. Like everything else, the room was a soft glowing white color, oddly soothing. The bed had made her nearly dance in excitement--huge king sized bed, soft to the touch, with four gauzy curtains that Nathan had tugged down after demanding a nap after his ordeal on the plane. It had been too inviting to pass up, even after the amount of sleep she had gotten on the plane, and she had crashed with him.

Only half-asleep - he was tired, but that didn't mean much anymore, half the time he couldn't sleep properly even when he was tired - Nathan felt her move and made a noise of protest, his arms tightening around her instinctively. Moira was not supposed to move. It was a nice bed and they were both supposed to stay here until there was no such thing as annoying flight attendants or mean little boys anymore.

Giggling a little, Moira reached up to kiss him on the cheek. A lingering feeling of irritation from the flights could still be felt on the link and she reached out to try and smooth that away. "All th' bad people are gone," she murmured, smiling.

"Mmm... good," he muttered, not opening his eyes. "Won't have to barricade the door, then..." Another soft laugh from her, and he cracked open one eye, unable to help a smile at the way she was watching him. "My leg still hurts," he said, deliberately opening the other eye and giving her a bleary but whole-hearted version of the infamous puppy-dog look.

Moira melted a little and snuggled closer. "Awww, I'm sorry," she responded. "Did flyin' mess it up again?"

"No... the evil little boy falling over it. Twice. Found myself missing the old cast just a little..." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, breathing in deeply of the fresh, salt-tinged air. The doors to the veranda were wide open, and he could hear... just the water. Nothing else, not at all. Oh, there were other people in the hotel, quite a few, but even the telepathic atmosphere was peaceful, just a background buzz.

"Should 'ave locked 'im in th' washroom," Moira pointed out, as she felt the muscles in her back start to unclench. A little painful and she shifted a little, but she knew it was a good thing. They'd been too tense for far too long. But Nathan was starting project a sense of calm and she picked up on it.

Nathan decided that he was probably awake, for better or for worse, and opened his eyes again, smiling around at the bedroom. The whole suite - the whole hotel, from what he'd seen - was decorated with what had to be local artwork and what seemed to his semi-knowledgeable eye to be antiques. Not at all the standard, anonymous-upscale sort of decor he'd half-expected.

"This was a really good idea," he murmured.

"Aye, it was...ye've got good taste," Moira agreed, relaxing against him as he took in the room.

Later...

"See?" Nathan said with a grin as he reached the bottom of the stairs and lowered himself back to the ground. "It was just a question of finding the right stairs at the right time." He looked up at the terraced cliff and the rest of the hotel, shaking his head. Really should have read some more reviews or something before I booked us into someplace quite this vertical... It was well-worth it, though, he decided, turning his attention to the deserted pool and the spectacular view of the volcanic islands from here on the lowest of the terraces. "I think I see a lounge chair with my name on it," he quipped.

"Aye, sit!" Moira chided, putting a hand to the small of his back to guide him towards that lounge chair. "Yer supposed ta be restin', remember?" But still, she smiled brightly at him as he lowered himself into the chair. The wind was nice and cool, unlike America currently, and she enjoyed every minute of it. The sun was strong, though, and she would have to remember to bring suntan lotion next time they left the room. "Place is breathtakin'."

"It has competition," Nathan said, leaning back into the cushions and grinning as he gave her an appreciative once-over. He hadn't managed to talk her into a bathing suit, but she had changed into one of the new outfits Alison had convinced her to buy, dark green linen pants and a wonderfully low-cut cream top with matching embroidery along the neckline. The bright sunlight picked up the golden highlights in her hair, and the pure joy in her eyes was dazzling. Just looking at her made him ever so slightly breathless.

She blushed and ducked her head a little, smiling down at him. "Yer nay so bad yerself," Moira answered, sitting down on the edge of the seat. Maybe it was something in the air, but already Nathan was getting back some color in his cheeks and had been moving much faster since they had arrived. Of course she didn't mean just that, she rather appreciated the tight t-shirt that showed off his upper muscles. Moira mockingly glared at the cast, no tight jeans for him until that was off.

Nathan tried not to choke with laughter at the very pointed thought that came down the link. "I'll do you one better," he said with a broad grin. "Once it's off, leather pants."

Moira's eyes narrowed a little at the thought and she giggled a little. "I'm 'avin' a 'ard time imaginin' ye in leather pants," she admitted, grinning widely. "'ave ye ever worn them before? Pain in th' arse, they are."

His grin turned positively wicked. "Numerous times, actually. Think about it for a minute, Moira - imagine some of the places I've had to go and the things I've had to do to blend in, over the years."

Her lips quirked, slightly. "Are there pictures?" she asked a little too sweetly.

"Sadly, no. Unless Dom has some stashed away." He laughed, lacing his fingers together behind his head, but biting back a bit of a wince as his shoulder protested. "According to her and Mina I was born to wear leather pants, though."

"Tha's a bloody shame," Moira said mournfully, pouting at him. "But...I'll jus' ask Dom, she might 'ave them somewhere." At the thought, she brightened as she reached over to rub gently at his shoulder.

He made a sound that was half-protest, half-appreciation as he lowered that arm back to his side. "Still can't believe it's gotten better this quickly," he said, wincing again. "You know, I always had to laugh at movies where the hero gets shot in the shoulder and it gets brushed off like a flesh wound."

"Gotta love fiction," she agreed. "We tend ta need a wee more time ta 'eal than tha'. An' I'm glad yer makin' this much progress, means verra little physical therapy may be needed after this."

"I'm wondering if it's not just the healing spells, but my TK, too," Nathan said thoughtfully as she reached out and snagged another chair, pulling it closer and sitting down.

She tilted her head at him as she settled in, enjoying how comfortable it was. "'ow do ye mean?"

"It's possible, isn't it? Fixing things on the same level that I manipulate the virus, unconsciously..." He shrugged with his good shoulder, still smiling. "Just keeps coming back to me as a possibility, that's all."

Moira blinked and leaned back, staring at the clouds as she thought about it. "Tha's...interestin', never thought 'bout tha'. Would explain yer 'abit o' bein' able ta bounce back from nearly everythin'."

"Something to look into when we go home, maybe." Nathan sighed in contentment. "I could fall asleep here, I think," he said with a chuckle.

"An' end up burnin' ta a crisp," Moira warned teasingly. "It be cute, though."

He waggled an eyebrow at her. "And I do hope you packed the SPF-2000, my porcelain-skinned Scottish rose..."

She laughed and blushed a little at the look he gave her. "Aye, o' course I did. Gettin' burned usually equals pain an' nay on this vacation." Moira eyed him thoughtfully. "Ye never did explain where ye got tha' name from..."

"It has something to do with your skin, I think," Nathan said brightly. "And the color you turn when you blush."

"...I dinnae blush tha' much!" she protested, sticking out her tongue at him.

"Well, no. But I like it when you do. Hence all the effort I put into it," he said with his best endearing grin.

"God, wha' am I goin' ta do wit' ye?" Moira asked, rolling her eyes at him.

"Hit me with a rolled-up newspaper?" he suggested mischievously, catching the stray thought down the link.

"Dinnae tempt me," she warned, reaching over to hold his hand. "Ye jus' like gettin' a rise out o' me."

"I thought it was the other way around?" Nathan asked innocently.

The color Moira abruptly turned could have rivaled her hair color at the moment. "Nathan," she choked, putting her free hand over her eyes in embarrassment.

"There's the color," Nathan said warmly.