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[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Moira wakes up from a nightmare because of stomach pains and Nathan worries more. He decides what she needs is breakfast and they quibble on what she should eat.



The dream was filled with dark corridors and hints of whispered conversation. Moira had been going through this for what felt like hours, trying to find someone. Every time she got close to a shadow, it would disappear, leaving her with whispers and smoke again. A great oak door appeared before her and she reached to open it but it would not give. She shoved...

And sat up straight in bed, biting back a sleep-filled curse as a pain shot through her stomach. Glancing over at the clock, Moira sighed...not even dawn yet.

Nathan stuck his head out of the bathroom, expression tightening as he saw her sitting up. The bolt of pain down the link had been quite unmistakable. "Are you all right?" he said quietly, unhappily.

"I will be," she responded, rubbing her stomach lightly. "Probably end result from th' bloody nightmare." Moira paused and looked up at him. "Why're ye up so early?"

He came back over to the bed, sitting down. "Figured I'd go take a turn around the grounds," he said, studying her intently. "Although, maybe I should be staying here looking after you."

"I'm fine, really." She rolled her eyes at the scowl he sent her.

"You're not," he said with a sigh, leaning over and kissing her lightly. "But until we know for sure what's happened to the kids, I know better than to think you're going to spend any time looking after yourself." He brightened suddenly. "Which leaves it to me, doesn't it?"

Laughing, she brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. "Ye look so bloody pleased at tha' thought," Moira teased but then she sobered. "If I take time for meself, love, I start thinkin' ta much 'bout them. Better throw meself in me work for th' time bein'..."

"Unfortunately, that doesn't really do anything to change the fact that you're not feeling well," Nathan pointed out seriously, then thought about it. "What do you want for breakfast?" he asked. "Something easy on the stomach, obviously..."

"Breakfast?" A startled look crossed her face. "'adnae even thought 'bout food. Um...coffee for one...o' dinnae give me tha' look, I'm exhausted an' ye can always make me eat somethin' ta counteract it."

They would discuss the coffee later, Nathan thought, determined. One step at a time. "Such as?" he asked, and laughed a little at the look she gave him. "I'm serious, Moira."

"Stubborn." With a sigh, she laid back against her pillow and thought about it. "I dinnae think we 'ave scones in th' 'ouse..." The tone was slightly pouty, as much as she was trying to not be pouty.

"I can make them," he said briskly. She blinked at him and he laughed again. "Don't you remember that I did, once? Anna showed me?"

Moira thought and suddenly smiled at the memory of Nathan, covered in flour, being scolded by an equally messy Anna. "Ye made such a mess," she teased.

"But we had fun," he said with an endearing grin, leaning over her. "And the scones weren't bad in the end, either. She didn't let me out of the kitchen until I got it right."

"She's a slave driver," she agreed, cheerfully, as she stared up at Nathan. "But aye, they were pretty good. But 'tis a lot o' trouble for such an early mornin', Nathan."

Nathan spread his hands wide. "What else do I have to do?" he asked lightly. "I'll make sure you're fed, then I'll go see if Scott needs me. What do you want on your scones?"

There was some thinking over going on. A part of her felt slightly guilty about being taken care of when people she cared about were missing. "...jam?" Moira asked, sighing.

Nathan firmly ignored the quiver of shame on the link. "What kind?" he asked briskly. "And anything else besides scones that might be easy on your stomach?"

"Strawberry" was the immediate answer. "Think tha's 'bout it, really. I'm nay really 'ungry right now but scones would 'elp."

One step at a time, Nathan reminded himself again. "Scones, then," he said firmly. "And coffee. One cup, for now."

Moira fully pouted up at him.

It was cute, but he had developed an immunity to her pouting years ago. "And don't think I won't enforce that," he said very seriously. "The link is good for many things."

"Bastard." She paused. "I never pouted years ago!" she protested.

"Yes, you did," he said with a smile. "You pouted spectacularly."

"I dinnae!" Another protest and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"You did. Anna and Billie will back me up." He reached out and patted her knee, then rose. "Scones," he said firmly. "And coffee." Weak coffee, as much as she might bitch at him about it.

"Gangin' up me, nay fair." Grumbling, she sat up again. "I might as well get dressed an' check on a few thin's. Meet ye downstairs?"

"Deal," he said, smiling warmly at her. "I'll try not to invoke Lorna's wrath by tearing apart her kitchen."