Three logs - Meet the Parents? (Saturday)

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Doing a different sort of rounds, Nathan comes upon Alphonso de la Rocha in the sunroom. The conversation goes rapidly downhill. Nathan refuses to give Alphonso detailed information on the missing children and their powers, Alphonso recognizes him, and Nathan makes what may be a critical tactical blunder by letting the Askani come out to play.


Nathan leaned against the doorway, studying the man seated in the sunroom through narrowed eyes. Each time he'd seen Manuel's father since his arrival, Alphonso de la Rocha had been talking on his cellphone. He was beginning to wonder if it was surgically attached. The man clearly had many things on his mind that weighed just as heavily, if not more so, than his missing son. Hands up if you're surprised by that, Nathan thought sardonically.

Alphonso sat in the sunroom, barking orders in Castillian Spanish in an angry tone to his cellphone. "Estupido." he muttered to himself as he snapped the phone shut, then looked over to Nathan. "Is there any word about my son?" he asked, suddenly and jarringly the very model of the concerned parent. "And has someone sedated that caterwauling Frenchwoman?"

"Nothing new," Nathan said calmly, not blinking at the sudden shift in tone. Or buying it. "As for Marie-Ange's mother, we all react to stress in different ways. Some of us shriek. Others don't."

Alphonso nodded and smiled. "Of course, of course. With the stress of the situation, I have not been nearly as tolerant as I should be. My apologies." he said smoothly. "I am extremely concerned for the fates of all the missing children, naturally." he said. "I wish business were not quite so pressing, so I could devote more of myself and my associates to aid you in your search."

"We have a number of resources we can call on," Nathan said, part of him dimly amused by the royal we. This was the first time he'd really caught himself thinking as part of the greater whole of the staff, but he was doing enough talking to the parents that it kept coming out like that. "But the thought's appreciated." The diplomatic lies were coming out more easily, too.

"As the standard wisdom goes, you can never have too many assets on the ground, eh?" he said with a great big smile. Rising from his chair, he walked over to Nathan and threw an arm around the bigger man's torso in lieu of around his shoulders. "Tell me how things are doing. I might be able to help you - I know a few things about trying to find children who do not wish to be found." he said with just the faintest hint of a smirk about his eyes.

Leaving a de la Rocha sized hole in the wall was not appropriate, Nathan told himself almost desperately, fighting the sudden, screaming reawakening of instincts that the last few months had almost buried. He managed not to lash out at the sudden, unexpected physical contact, but he did stiffen, and the furniture in the room rattled for a moment. "I imagine you do," he said, the words coming out tight, but level.

Alphonso, far more canny than his son at reading moods, smirked just briefly. "I understand you have fliers scanning from the air, and ground search parties. Have you tried a telepath, or another empath? They may be more useful than a purely physical search. I also understand that one of the children is a teleporter? What is her range?"

"There are three telepaths in the house," Nathan said, a bit of a chill entering his voice as Alphonso didn't do the smart thing and step back. "We've all been taking our turns."

"Excellent." he said, still not backing off despite knowing full-well what it was doing to the other man. "I would like to meet them. No one knows my son better than I do."

Galin was hissing at the back of his mind, all kinds of vicious profanities, and the Askani in general were starting to react, whether to Galin's upset or his own, he wasn't sure. "You've met the Professor," he managed to say, still keeping his voice level, if with difficulty. "Ms. Braddock is... otherwise occupied at the moment." Maybe if he just took a step away, the bastard would get the message...

"Ms Braddock - the former fashion model? How very interesting. I invested money in her career - an unwise choice, as it turned out. Ah well." Alphonso said, finally releasing his arm and disengaging. "My only concern here is to have my son returned to me. I will do anything in my power to ensure that that happens. I think we should cooperate in this - we both want the same thing."

Nathan took a deep breath, trying to let some of the tension drain away. Asshole, he thought, keeping the anger out of his expression as he stared down at Manuel's father. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, the words coming out a bit clipped.

"I suspect that you haven't taken into account the full extent of the childrens' abilities." Alphonso suggested reasonably. "So I would like to know what each child's power was, and what the parameters of those powers are. Then we can establish a baseline and work from it inwards." he suggested, in a very take-charge businessman-like manner.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Towards what, Mr. de la Rocha?" he asked. Do I look like an idiot? Smarmy bastard...

"Towards finding a mutually-agreeable solution to our current difficulty, of course." Alphonso said smoothly. "Is now really the time to be playing politics when lives are on the line, Mr Dayspring?" He then looked more closely at Nathan, his eyes narrowing. His thoughts were practically screaming a 'Hey-I-know-you!' vibe.

"Despite the circumstances," Nathan said levelly, seeing the dawning recognition in the other man's eyes, "or perhaps especially because of the circumstances, Mr. de la Rocha, security is still a concern for us." A bit of a bite entered his voice as he went on. "As for playing politics, I prefer to think of it as thinking ahead, beyond this current crisis. If you have a specific idea in mind as to how that information could be used to help resolve the situation, perhaps you should speak to Ms. Frost. I'm sure she's determined just how much information it's safe to allow someone affiliated with the Hellfire Club to have. Given that it's an organization that's been responsible for the torture and abuse of one of our students already..."

Alphonso tisked at Nathan. "For an organization that allows a multiple-count felon and a mass murderer to teach, I hardly think that throwing around the slings and arrows of outrageous accusations is very productive. Wouldn't you agree, Mr Dayspring? I loved your performance on the telly the other day. Quite stirring, what little of it that I saw."

Oh, good, Nathan thought with an inward sigh. Gloves off. "I'll refrain from commenting on your taste in entertainment, then," he said coldly. "And we probably agree on the issue of Charles and his taste in staff. But as for the information you want, Mr. de la Rocha..." He gave him a wintry smile. "I can think of a number of things you could do with detailed profiles on our students and their mutations. I like to think I have a small gift for strategy and tactics, but I'm still not seeing how you'd use that information to get them home any faster."

"As you so ardently pointed out, I have some small influence with the Hellfire Club. They are willing to go places you are not, do things you are not, to get the job done quickly, neatly, and _quietly_." he hissed. "Leave the finer points out, if you must. But give me _something_ to work with, and I can _double_ your available manpower with a phone call!"

So reasonable. Only Nathan wasn't about to bite. "As I said," he responded icily, "speak to Emma or Charles. My role here does not include passing out intelligence like candy on the street."

"Does it include endangering the lives of the children placed in your care, Cable, or are you merely trying to bring the Pack back up to full strength?" Alphonso asked nastily. "I really don't care too much, so long as my _son_ comes back alive. That is my only goal."

Nathan managed, just barely, not to laugh in his face. "Oh, so Sebastian's been telling tales? Charming," he said, baring his teeth at Alphonso in what might have been a smile. "If you know anything about me, Alphonso, you know that I wouldn't have to do more than crook a finger to double the Pack's size with experienced mercenaries. I neither need or want to be corrupting children." Some of the Askani were doing the psychic equivalent of high-fives in the back of his mind, and Galin was egging him on gleefully. It was moderately disturbing. Also rather hard to resist. "~And as for your son,~" he went on in Spanish, "~everything that can be done is being done. Perhaps you should consider that as freeing you to be concerned about your 'package'?~"

"~The package is coming along just fine.~ he retorted in Castillian. ~It won't need my direct supervision for a little while yet. This process, unfortunately, does.~ he said. "And isn't that how the Pack grows - by hiring children? It worked so well in Hong Kong's combat pits, why not try it again?" he said in English.

Too bad Domino was gone on one of Pete's little errands. She would have gotten a real kick out of this conversation, Nathan reflected grimly. "It's been a long week," he said, still smiling. "Would it help your stress management process to stand here and continue to take shots at me? Because I'm more than willing to oblige, if that's the case."

"If you really wanted to help my stress management process, you would FIND MY SON! NOW!" he bellowed. "No excuses, no hiding behind formalities or security! FIND THEM!"

"What can be done, is being done," Nathan repeated unwaveringly. "But I wasn't being facetious about speaking to Emma or Charles if you honestly believe you have connections that can help. Perhaps that would be a more productive use of your time." He paused, offered a small olive branch. "I want to find your son, too. I've been involved in his empathy instruction."

"I see." Alphonso said, schooling his emotions _hard_ back down to a placid calm. "That's very interesting. I think I will go talk to Charles, if he is not busy. I do not trust Emma." he admitted. "When I return, we will speak of my son's empathy instruction. I have had no word, and I would like to know how my son progresses."

"Well," Nathan said candidly, then flinched at the sudden shifting inside his mind. His vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, Askani was there - in her armor, no less! - standing behind Alphonso and regarding him with wary fascination. Manuel's father turned slightly to one side and Askani stepped back adroitly, keeping out of sight. Nathan was trying not to gape at her, and she gave him a defensive little smile.

Alphonso looked at Nathan with some curiousity. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, turning to look behind him and missing Mother Askani, who also moved to keep out of Alphonso's sight.

#What are you doing?# Nathan asked her desperately. That odd little smile kept playing on her lips, and he knew what she was about to do, an instant before Alphonso turned back around, frowning, and she stepped in front of him, almost nose to nose.

"Hello," she said sweetly.

Alphonso's only physical reaction was a widening of the eyes and a step backwards. "Hello." he said as normally as he could manage. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you come in. I would think that a woman such as you would be quite memorable. I am Alphonso de la Rocha. And you are ... ?" he asked charmingly, extending his hand for the Mother Askani to take.

"Dead," she said with a brilliant smile, taking his hand and shaking it as Nathan felt the pull on his powers. "Thus, you only seem to be shaking my hand. Yet the small courtesies are important, aren't they?"

Alphonso didn't let himself react to the odd woman's sense of humor, instead endeavoring to raise her hand to his lips for a brief kiss. "They are indeed, my warrior Lady. Now, what can I do for you, assuming you're not some sort of telepathic hallucination on my part?"

Nathan didn't know whether to go find a corner to curl up in or just burst out laughing. Instead, he endeavored to do the appropriate thing and manage an introduction. "This is the Mother Askani, Mr. de la Rocha," he said as calmly as he could. "Late of the thirty-eighth century--"

"Very late," Askani said brightly. "As I said, I am quite dead. As well as not yet born."

"--and the woman who arranged for your son's training," Nathan said doggedly.

"I heard you wondering about the course of Manuel's study," Askani said, letting Alphonso kiss her hand and then withdrawing in a graceful move that Nathan rather envied after his little close encounter earlier. "Deplorable, that he's failed to inform you of his progress. He truly has made a great deal." She looked back at Nathan, her green eyes dancing. "If you would allow me...? Perhaps Galin wishes to join us..."

#Oh, yes,# Galin cackled at the back of his mind. #Yes, yes, a thousand times yes...#

Alphonso just watched all of the goings-on with a friendly smile pasted onto his face. Behind his eyes, he was running every counter against telepathic scan that Sebastian and Selene had been able to show him. Multiplication tables, singing old songs at the top of his mental lungs, that sort of thing. "If you are, in fact, deceased, I cannot imagine that my son reacted well to your presence." he commented.

"Actually, the phrase 'brain-sucking parasites' was used," Nathan said helpfully. Alphonso turned back to him, and Nathan felt a sudden surge of reckless glee that he only hoped was his own, and not induced by the large number of cackling Askani in his mind. He linked with Askani and threw Galin a mental 'hand', letting him manifest as well. "And this is Galin," he said as the old man shimmered into existence on the other side of the sunroom. "Your son's teacher."

"That sounds like my son. He was never as eloquent as he had been taught to be." chuckled Alphonso, before he turned to face the new arrival. "Greetings." he said cheerfully to Galin. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, tell me of Manuel's progress."

Galin raised an eyebrow. "Slow but steady," he said, sounding almost diplomatic. Which made Nathan very, very wary. "He has a number of bad habits to unlearn. All of that unfortunate business in that aslyum... so terribly damaging to a young man of Manuel's gifts."

Alphonso blinked. "What asylum?" he asked, in a masterful display of wounded parental pride. "My son was being treated for psychological disorders, yes, but I think it's very unfair to characterize the facility as an asylum."

"Oh," Askani said mournfully. "Oh, dear... well, I didn't think you could possibly have known," she said, brightening. "After all, what father would wish a son to undergo such treatment? Or such training?"

"I trust that my son's psychological damage is being adjusted?" he asked, voice just a little bit harder than the question warranted. "He did some terrible things in Spain. A great deal of people got hurt, including my wife. I only wanted my son to become well again and return to his family. I still hold out hope that this will come to pass."

"Precisely what we hope," Galin said in a drawl, and Nathan blinked at him. "We of the Clan have very... precise standards for empaths. Exactly what your son needs."

"As for adjustment," Askani said, still beaming, "we prefer to think of it as a form of liberation. We are leading him to break certain destructive behavioural patterns and forge new, productive ones."

He was dreaming, Nathan thought a bit dazedly. And it was a very weird, weird dream. What the hell were the two of them trying to do? Charm the man?

Askani's eyes flickered sideways to him, her smile unwavering. #Don't be silly, little brother,# she sent, and her mental voice was ice-cold. #Assessing him. Merely assessing him.#

"The Clan?" Alphonso asked with curiousity. "Which Clan would this be? I'd like to know more, if you can spare the time." he said with a charming smile. Behind his eyes, though, malice glittered.

#You're not...#

#Oh, we certainly are. Sometimes too much information is precisely what's required.# Askani actually giggled and planted herself in one of the chairs, still beaming at Alphonso. "My Clan," she said, somehow managing to sound about sixteen years old. "Two and a half million of us, from the thirty-eighth century. Currently residing in Nathan's mind."

Alphonso kept his smile intact, but changed his focus back to Nathan. "This has really been very funny, but I think the joke is wearing quite thin. You can stop with the illusions now, you have had your laugh at my expense. Thirty-eighth century, indeed. Hrmph!" he snorted.

"Feel free to confirm it with Charles," Nathan said after a moment. "He's done quite a lot of work with me to manage their presence in my mind." He smiled humorlessly. "Whether you want to accept it or not, this is your son's instructor." He waved at Galin. "When I said I assist in his instruction, that's precisely what I mean. They use me as a base from which to project themselves. I've been sitting in on their lessons three times a week and occasionally serving as your son's guinea pig."

"I would love to see their New York State teaching certificate." Alphonso muttered to himself. "This is a farce." he said, to Nathan. "And even if it were true, I know my son. He would never stand for it."

"Actually, he and I came to an agreement early on," Askani said pleasantly, abruptly dropping the ditzy act. "As for it being a farce, stable, full empaths seem comparatively rare in this time period. Those capable of training them properly seem even rarer."

"Yes," Galin said, sounding much more like himself as well. "There seems to be this nasty tendency to shape them into mindbreakers. I find it quite distressing, myself."

"Mindbreakers? I don't know what you are talking about." he said indignantly, burying his true thoughts deep under the repetition. The strain was starting to show, as Alphonso was beginning to sweat. "Is this how you are finding the missing children? With these hallucinations of yours?" he snapped out.

"Sadly, we're not of much use in that sense," Askani said with honest regret, even if it wasn't displayed for Alphonso's benefit. "But were we not speaking of your son's training?"

Galin smiled bleakly. "Mindbreaker," he said in the lecturing tone he so often took with Manuel. "Empathy used as a weapon, generally of interrogation or simple domination. Basically, what those in the aslyum were attempting to do to your son."

"I will not stand here and be accused by the likes of _you_, or by anyone else! This is an outrage! There was no asylum, there is no such thing as mindbreaking, and if you believe that there are then I am sorry but you are deeply mistaken! Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I have business to conclude elsewhere." he said, then started to head for the door.

"There is no way to undo the damage completely," Askani said, almost lightly as she watched Alphonso's retreat. "But what can be done, will be done.""He may never be completely ethical by our standards," Galin said with a nasty chuckle. "Hard to break certain habits. But he will be his own man by the time we're finished with him. Of that I can assure you."

"The Askani are big believers in freedom of will," Nathan added, picking up on the cue.

Alphonso didn't rise to the bait, but the cords of muscle in his neck looked tight enough to bounce quarters off of. He stalked out of the sunroom without any further comment.

Nathan looked hard at the two Askani. "So, what precisely did that accomplish?"

"Looking ahead," Askani mimicked him. "Past this current crisis. They will return, you realize."

"I know," Nathan said quietly, shaking his head. "All right. So will the two of you get back in here so that I can go present myself for the drubbing Charles is almost certainly going to give me for getting into an argument with a stressed-out father?"

"Oh, do shut up, Nathan," Galin said sardonically. "The man was an enemy before he walked in the door. After what he caused to have done to that boy..."

Nathan glanced at Askani, who was regarding him coolly. "Point taken," he said with a sigh. "But that still could have gone better."


Later, but again in the sunroom, Nathan tries to comfort Marie-Ange's mother. He is moderately successful, although Jeanne-Michele has a few very alarming ideas about her daughter's precognition mentor. Very, very alarming.


In times of stress, Marie-Ange Colbert retreated to the sunroom to rest, relax and try to calm her thoughts. The draw to a warm, well-light room must have been genetic, though Jeanne-Michele Colbert was certianly not relaxed or resting, and she was -far- from calm. Pacing the borders of the room, whispering endless rosaries was nothing like calm, though it was a damn sight better than hysterical sobbing.

Her husband had gone to speak to yet another of their daughter's teachers on the subject of Exactly What Was Going On Anyway, after exacting a promise from Jeanne-Michele that she was not to go anywhere except to the guest room that the Professor had so nicely lent them. She, of course, ignored him completly in favor of wandering the halls until she found herself in the room.

Back in the sunroom, Nathan thought with a sigh as he paused at the door, having followed the psionic 'trail' Angie's very agitated mother had left in her wake. "Madame Colbert?" he asked gently. "Can I help you?"

Marie-Ange's mother's voice had a much stronger accent, and her English was quite obviously rusty, filled with pauses - the emotional upset couldn't be helping either. "I do not understand how so many of you, blessed with gifts, can lose so many children."

Nathan lingered in the doorway, silent for a long moment. He had seen a range of different reactions from the assembled parents, and something like this affected him far more than rage or hysteria. "We may be gifted," he said slowly, wishing his French was more than rudimentary, "but we aren't omnipotent. In the end, we're flesh and blood, and there are forces in this world that we can't always even defend against, let alone combat." He moved forward into the room, just a step. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Marie-Ange wrote home often, she spoke of you, I believe. Teaching her to use her gift, helping her accept that she is blessed with visions?" This was not the mentor she had been expecting, even from the descriptions Marie-Ange had given. This man looked hard, like he had spent time playing one of those American sports that encouraged size, not at all the wise ascetic bringing her daughter closer to the God that had granted her sight.

His day for being recognized by parents, he supposed. "Trying to, in any case," he said, indicating two chairs set side by side and taking one himself, hoping she would follow. She looked like sitting down would be a very good idea. "It's a difficult gift. She and I share it."

Sitting slowly in the offered chair, Jeanne-Michele eyed Nathan warily. "Marie-Ange did not mention that you shared her gift, she simply said that she had found a teacher, and did not feel it necessary to speak to Father Reaneu." Obviously, if this was Marie-Ange's teacher, he must be close to the Father, and apperances were often misleading, but she had expected something... different.

Oh, crap. Jeanne-Michele was a nice woman, even under this much stress, but she had absolutely nothing in the way of mental shields. And that had come through loud and clear. Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I..." he started, then stopped again. "I've tried to share my experience with her. It seems to help."

"She is closed-mouthed about it." Marie-Ange's mother nodded briefly. "But I am glad she has someone to help her understand how important it is to listen to her gifts." Gripping her rosary tightly, she sighed and shook her head. "I must confess, I have been praying for her return, but if she has truly disappeared, I fear it is God's doing, and I am asking for more than is fair. If the Father has called Marie-Ange, is it truly my place to question?"

Nathan tried very hard not to grit his teeth. He did not have the option of indulging his distaste for religion here, he told himself harshly, keeping the calm expression on by an act of sheer will. "She's your daughter," he said, his voice low but thankfully smooth. "You love her and you want her back safely. How could God not recognize that?"

Shaking her head slowly, Jeanne-Michele answered in a whisper. "By faith Enoch was taken that he should not see death; and was not found.." Letting her head drop, she began again methodically working through the beads on her roasary. "I pray for her to return, her and her friends, but I do not know if it is right..."

Maybe the hysteria would have been preferable. "But you do pray," Nathan said, the calm coming a little hard at this point. "In your heart, you know what's right."

This teacher of Marie-Ange's -must- be a priest. He had the same deflect-the-question mannerism as her own pastor at home. "I am so scared for her. She tells us so little, and looked so drawn and tired when she was home last month. I know she does not sleep, she wandered the house at all hours when she and her Douglas were visiting.."

"It happens, with what she sees," Nathan said with a sigh. "I have problems with insomnia as well." For a slightly different reason than Angie, of course, but they were both precog-related in the end. "I'm trying to teach her how to... balance herself, against the visions."

"Sacrificing herself does no one, espically her, any good." Jeanne-Michele nodded firmly. "She has been given a gift, blessed by God, and I fear she will burn herself out long before she has done whatever the Father needs of her. It is good that she has a mentor to keep her on a healthy path.."

"She wants very much to help people," Nathan said quietly, remembering carrying a raving Angie up to her room after she'd pushed herself to the point of exhaustion and behind doing readings on his behalf. "She just needs to learn the limits of her own strength, Madame Colbert. She's very young yet."

"Very young. And .. " A soft sob came, and soon after, it was followed by tears and shaking shoulders. "God Himself only knows where she is, and what has happened to her, and I pray she is safe and whole, but I .. " Her words were lost in a burst of tears and rapid, shallow breathing, nearly to the point of hyperventaliting

Nathan's jaw clenched and he focused hard. #Calmly,# he murmured to her on what was almost a subvocal telepathic level, a suggestion she wouldn't even register as speech. #You need to be calm and strong for her. And for yourself.#

The man - Marie-Ange had always referred to him in her letters and calls as Nathan, but that did not seem quite appropiate for a teacher - had an odd calming presence, Jeanne-Michele decided. As fearful as she was for her daughter, it was easier now to keep from tipping over the edge into hysteria than it had been. "My apologies.." she said, raggedly. "I am just so scared for her."

"Understandable," Nathan said as gently as he could, trying to ignore the throbbing pain starting behind his eyes. This sort of projective telepathy was not his strong suit. He reached out and laid a hand over hers. The physical contact made it a little easier to keep up the calming suggestion. Better for her than sedation, Nathan told himself. "But have faith in her abilities, as well," he said more firmly. "Hers and her friends. They're very resourceful young people." He forced himself to smile. "They'll find their way back to us," he said, reaching down for that confidence whose source he didn't wholly understand. Maybe, against all odds, he really was developing some grasp on this whole 'faith' thing.


That evening, Nathan joins Moira back in their suite. They decide that the parents are not really an improvement on the children, and ponder barricading the door.


The bedroom door opened and Nathan walked in. Without even blinking at the sight of Moira apparently smothering herself with a pillow, he came over and collapsed facedown on the bed. "Just. Fucking. Kill me. Please?"

"Me first," came the muffled protest from under the pillow.

"I'm older. I deserve to be put out of my misery first."

"We're throwin' out tha' 'age before beauty' thin'. I'm prettier, I go first."

Nathan managed to raise his head. "Alphonso de la Rocha hugged me," he said pitifully, crawling further up on the bed and settling back down beside her. "Sort of. And he wouldn't let go."

Moira blinked up at the white pillow and considered removing it for a second but decided against it. "Eewww." She paused. "'e's a creepy bastard, tha's for sure. Kept tryin' ta get me ta drink wit' 'im."

Oh. One more reason to hate the bastard's guts. "Asshole. Such an asshole. I thought I was going to wind up putting him through a wall," Nathan said, and actually shuddered, remembering. "And then, surprise surprise, he knew who I was. Told me he'd enjoyed my 'performance' at Columbia."

"Bloody 'ell, 'e's a walkin' Who's Who, isnae 'e?" Moira muttered.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" Nathan asked, raising his head again. "Because if he did, I'm removing the offending hand and giving it to you as a Christmas present." Shivering, he relaxed back against the bed. "I think I screwed up," he said after a moment. "Let the Askani talk to him, because he wanted to know how Manuel was doing... and I know he's going to run right back to Shaw."

At that, she let the pillow slip off and she rolled over to stare at him, horrified. "Oh 'ell," she breathed. "'ave ye told Charles?"

"It just... sort of happened," Nathan said a bit weakly. It was beginning to sink in just how stupid he had been... he had been acting like an Askani, with the whole laying down of the gauntlet/facing down the enemy semi-chivalrous crap. "She was so determined, and Galin was so angry..."

"I dinnae blame them, really. Alphonso can get under anyone's skin. Certainly got under mine." Moira scowled for a second. "An' 'e was th' *last* one tha' I dealt wit' today. Enough ta drive a sane woman mad." Her stomach protest a little as she rolled but she ignored it and bured her head in her arms. At least it had kept her from worrying so much about the children, too much to do.

Nathan sighed and reached out, tugging her into his arms. She immediately snuggled down against him, clinging. "My first. Not a good start to the day." He turned over onto his back, pulling her with him, and his heart clenched at the sheer exhaustion in the sigh she gave as she rested her head against his chest.

The weariness that she had been fighting all day slammed against her and she shut her eyes. It was soothing, just listening to the sound of his heart and feeling the warmth from his skin. "This week's been 'orrid."

"That's a very mild word," he said heavily, raising his good hand to stroke her hair. "I think I gave myself a migraine trying to calm Angie's mother down."

"I got ta sedate 'er!" Moira said, raising one hand in triumph.

"Drugs bad," Nathan said with a sigh. "Or so I tell myself. But I am not good at that sort of telepathic manipulation, Moira... stupid of me to try."

"Ye wanted ta 'elp, love, dinnae beat yerself up." Stretching up, she nuzzled softly and then laid her head back down. "Sometimes 'tis th' only thin' we can do."

"She's a nice woman," Nathan muttered. "Although all her talk of God and how maybe it was God's will that the kids vanished..."

"Religious..." Moira shuddered deeply. "Kurt's nay scary but she is."

Nathan stared up at the ceiling. "She thought I was a priest."

A sputtering noise erupted from her and she stared at him. "Yer kiddin'."

"I really wish I was." Nathan grimaced. "I didn't disabuse her - should I have? To me it seemed like she was having a hard enough time wthout knowing that her daughter's precognition tutor is a wanted felon rather than someone helping Angie get right with God." The bitterness crept into his voice despite his best efforts, and he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry."

"Shh, yer tired an' worn out." Moira perched on an elbow and ran her fingers through his hair. "An' dealt wit' agitated parents. But please, dinnae beat up on yerself, love. Ye'll only 'ave me worryin' 'bout ye."

"I'll be good," he said meekly, mustering a smile as she peered down at him. "Think anyone's going to miss us if we crash early tonight?"

"If they do, they'll think we're bloody well smart ta do it," she said firmly, reaching down to kiss him gently. "They understand."

"We've done our duty, huh?" He slid his arm back around her as she settled back down against him. "Just think. More tomorrow."

"Blast!" she snarled lightly, snuggling into his arms. "Evil."

"Me and my negative thinking."