Scott, Haroun, and Nathan, Saturday morning

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott and Haroun assess the damage to the Blackbird, while Haroun carries on this conversation with Nathan over the journals. Nathan comes stomping down to yell at him. Haroun yells right back. Scott, wondering why he got up this morning, breaks it up and makes them both apologize.



Haroun, securely clad in his heavy and awkward lead-lined overcoat, stared at the Blackbird. "Well, at least we brought it down in basically one piece." he said, leaning on the diagnostics cart and tapping a sentence out on his laptop. "I'm going to need you to take a closer look at things, it hurts to stand upright today, for some strange reason." he said with a grin. "Belly-plates are all going to have to go, plus the starboard engine's gonna need to come out so we can take a look at it. I'll take a look topside once we catalog the damage from down here. Man, when you break the jet, you don't play around, do you?"

"For the last time," Scott said with a certain wry humor, "I didn't break the jet. Blame Shiro and Nate - it was a joint effort." He rubbed at his forehead, willing the headache away. He felt vaguely sick to his stomach, too - he and Nathan had both taken enough radiation, even inside the jet, to be feeling some of the physical effects. "Getting that engine out is going to be a hassle. I wonder if we can get Lorna to give us a hand."

"I would advise against that. There's still a lot of ferrous material in the jet's airframe - design decision, made before I got here. It's on the long-term to-do list to replace as much as we can with that new ultrastrong carbon-fiber stuff Hank was brewing. I suggest Nathan - he helped you all break it, he can help us all fix it. As soon as Paul and maybe even Shiro are up and around, I plan on drafting them as well." he suggested, looking over at his laptop and quirking an eyebrow. "I don't think her control is solid enough to avoid ripping _all_ of it out, or worse yet, magnetizing the airframe."

Scott winced at the thought. "Point," he admitted, then frowned at Haroun. "What's with the running back and forth to the laptop?"

"Just carrying on a conversation." replied Haroun, looking at the laptop and snickering. He then bent over the keyboard to tap out another reply, and then winced. "My back is really killing me here. Once we know the extent of the damage, I think I'm going to go soak it for a while. Want me to go airborne and take a look topside? And how bad is the inside ripped out, besides the radiation?"

"So long as you're feeling up to it," Scott said with a stern look. "I know we need to get moving on getting her operational again, but I don't want you hurting yourself." He grinned suddenly, wryly. "The plane's replaceable. You aren't. And there's no real damage to the inside, although we've probably got high rad levels in the rear cabin."

"I will still want to do a full systems test, make sure the electronics survived intact. They probably did, but you know what happens when you assume." he said with a grin. "And I'm fairly sure that my replacement parts cost just about as much as the plane's do." His back twinged, and then he shook his head. "On the other hand, it can probably wait a few days until I'm feeling better. Or you can use a ladder and inspect it for yourself."

Scott looked at the plane, shaking his head. "You know, as we were trying to catch up with Shiro yesterday, I kept wishing that we'd gotten off the ground a few minutes earlier." He smiled wryly. "In retrospect, that probably would have been a bad thing. Any closer to him when the blast went off and I don't think we would have stayed in the air, telekinetic on board or not."

Haroun nodded. "And that would be a crime. Our girl here pulled through in fairly good shape, considering as I understand things Shiro's basically a peewee nuke with legs. And the electronics made it through intact, which means that the EMP-shielding I've been working on held. That's good to know."

"You've done a hell of a job with her," Scott said, having absolutely no problem admitting that. As disgruntled as he may have been originally to have responsibility for the jet handed over to Haroun, it had turned out for the best. He flattered himself that he was a good mechanic, but Haroun had him beat six ways to Sunday, especially when it came to design. He wasn't above teasing a little, though. "I guess the next test will be to see how fast you can get her back in the air." Haroun's laptop made a chiming noise, and Scott frowned at it. "More of that conversation?"

Haroun glanced at the screen. "Not ... quite." he said with a grin. "We're going to have company in about fifteen minutes or so. He's very grumpy. This should be fun."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "What," he said warily, "did you do?"

"I provoked Nathan into coming down here and saving up about a quarter-million dollars in equipment rental fees." said Haroun with a shrug. "He's got the big brain, it's about time we put it to use."

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head. "If he aggravates the little case of telekinetic overexertion he had after yesterday," he said warningly, going over to get the ladder, "you get to deal with Moira."

"And that's fine. I have caffeinated mints, and I'm not afraid to use them as bribes." he said. "And I don't need him to do any heavy lifting _right now_ - we're not ready, and the exterior of the jet is still hot. Hence the lead smocks we're both wearing, remember? Hey wait - doesn't Alex absorb cosmic radiation or something like that? I thought I remembered somebody telling me that. Maybe I'm wrong. Anyway, we're waiting on a sufficiently large batch of the antirad stuff to be whipped up so we can soak the exterior of the jet in it - wash away as much of the radioact as we can."

Scott shook his head again. "We'll get her cleaned up," he said firmly, picking up the ladder. "Don't think Alex's abilities would help us out in this particular situation. Anyway, sometimes the traditional ways are best."

Haroun nodded. "Probably." he said. "I'm going to go pack my laptop up before all the radiation corrupts everything on it." he said with a wince as he closed the device and picked it up off the diagnostics bench. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be getting an overhead look," Scott said, positioning the ladder and then concentrating on climbing it without doing anything stupid like falling. He was feeling a little light-headed.

Haroun retreated back into the converted "tower" for the hangar - really just an overlooking room crammed full of electronics. He put his laptop on one of the chairs, and sank into one of the other ones with a relieved sigh. Damn, but his back really did hurt. He kept one eye on Scott, activating the external mikes so he could make himself heard. "Make sure to get a look at the ailerons. I'm pretty sure they're both warped badly."

Bad mood. Too mild a description for his mood right now, Nathan thought as he stalked into the hangar. He spotted Scott up on the latter, but ignored him in favor of the presence he could sense in the 'tower'. Despite the pounding headache, he took the steps upwards two at a time. "I suppose you're going to lay that on me, too?" he growled at Haroun.

"Lay what on you?" said Haroun, entirely too innocently.

"The warped ailerons?" Nathan snapped, going from 'seethe' to 'boil' at Haroun's innocent look.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm pretty sure those are you as well." he said, leaning back to stretch out his abused spinal column as much as he could. "You gripped it like Sarah's puppy does a bone. Saved everyone's lives, and I'm not blind to that, but you wrinkled my plane fairly badly. You should at least offer to help fix it without getting all girly about it."

"GIRLY?" Every piece of electronics and furniture in the room rattled in response to his flash of fury, and Nathan bit back a groan, trying not to clutch at his skull too obviously. Ow... fuck, ow... "I was not being girly," he managed to hiss at Haroun. "I told you I wasn't up to it, and I'm not! I got a nosebleed this morning trying to levitate a fucking coffee cup!"

"And you very clearly missed the part where I said we don't need it right goddamned _now_." spit back Haroun, not at all phased by the demonstration of power. "We can give you a few days to recover from your brain-sprain, but quite frankly, I expect a little better from an X-Man."

"I may have missed that because you were too busy implying I was malingering and looking for attention!" Nathan growled right back.

"You mean that you're not?" said Haroun with a grin. "Could have fooled me, the way you were carrying on. 'Oh, look at poor old me. My brain hurts, everyone should just be nice and quiet until I feel better.'" he mocked. "We're adults here. I expect that from the children. Act your age. You got a medical complaint, that's fine. A lot of us do. But for every day you're watching your eyes cross and feeling sorry for yourself is another day when this plane just might be needed, and WE CAN'T FIX IT WITHOUT YOU! Am I making myself perfectly clear, Cable?"

"I am not your fucking crane-substitute, Jetstream!" Nathan snarled, quite literally seeing red. "Aside from the fact that I couldn't lift any part of that jet right now if I wanted to, pardon the fuck out of me if I don't like being treated like a fucking disposable piece of equipment!"

"You're not a fucking disposable piece of equipment. See what I mean about acting like a child? Next thing, you'll be sticking your tongue out at me or insulting my mother or something. We don't have TIME for this, Nathan! Go back to your room, lie down, sleep, do whatever you need to do to get your telekinesis back up and running. Because Allah knows we need it, and we need it as soon as possible. Unless you want to write Charles a check for several tens of thousands of dollars to rent the equipment we'll need and the people to run it, and then personally mindwipe every one of them so that we can maintain what few shreds of operational security that we have left!" he fumed. "Nobody has time to indulge your little temper tantrums."

"If you wanted me to focus on getting my TK back as soon as possible, why the hell didn't you just say 'We could use your help when you're feeling better'?" Nathan challenged him angrily. "Why not leave it at that? You'd think you thought I'd deliberately broken the damned plane! Do you think I set out yesterday thinking 'Oh, well, maybe I'll see what damage I can do to the Blackbird'?"

"No, but I do have to question your skill in handling delicate large objects." he said. "You. Broke. My. Plane. I know why you did it, and I agree that it was necessary, but could you please, maybe, just try to be a little more deft next time?"

"Deft?" Nathan actually sputtered. "How the hell was I supposed to be DEFT? There was a kid turning into a nuclear bomb TWO MILES FROM THE COCKPIT!"

"And according to your file you handle structures at the molecular level as a matter of instinct. You're not dazzling me here." said Haroun with a smirk. "Maybe you need to practice more on fine manipulation rather than just Blowing Stuff Up, hrm?"

It was entirely probably that Scott, out in the hangar, could hear the sound of Nathan's teeth grinding over the exterior mikes. "You have no idea what the hell you're talking about," he hissed, wrestling his telekinesis back down before he could rattle the furniture again and worsen his headache. "You have no idea what kind of training I do, and you have no fucking business telling me--"

"Enough," Scott's voice said from the door, quietly but firmly. He came in, eyeing Nathan and Haroun with a mixture of wry amusement and irritation. "Precisely what is this supposed to be accomplishing?"

"Ideally, if we can get Nathan here to take out his pigtails and take the skirt off when his brain gets better we can use him instead of the hoists and engine mounts I was talking about earlier. Save a lot of time and money. Only he's balking because he's a big baby and he wants us to fawn all over him." Haroun said.

Oh, for the love of... Scott gave Nathan a stern look as the former mercenary turned an alarming shade of purple. "Nathan," he said, his voice mild, undemanding, "no one's suggesting you do any heavy lifting right now. Once you're back up to strenght, though, we really could use your help. It would simplify things enormously."

Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again, visibly taking a deep breath. "I know," he muttered. "I don't have any problem doing that."

"Finally! OK, Nathan, go back to your room and rest that brain of yours. We'll finish compiling the list of damage, and from there the list of parts we'll need. At the very least, we'll need you to take the starboard engine out, and when we get it back up to spec, to mount it back in." said Haroun with a satisfied smile. "There may be some issues with the landing struts - they took a pretty hard shot when the jet came down."

"Nathan, don't go anywhere. We're not done yet," Scott said, then turned his attention to Haroun. "You left something out," he said with a perfectly straight face. "Your teammate has just agreed to make your job quite a bit simpler. What's the appropriate thing to say?"

Haroun looked at Scott. "What?" he said with some confusion. "When it's all said and done I'll buy him a beer."

"Thank the man, Haroun," Scott said, trying very hard not to smile. It really wasn't funny. "The small courtesies are what makes the world go round. And you might throw in an apology for provoking him, too..." Nathan opened his mouth, and Scott gave him another stern look. "And it wouldn't kill you to apologize for stomping down here to shout at him. I have no idea what the hell the two of you were saying to each other on the journals, but you're both adults. Leave the journal bitchfights for the kids."

Haroun ground his own teeth, and then looked at Nathan. "Thank you for taking the time to help us fix the jet." he said pleasantly, very clearly forcing it. "I shouldn't have provoked your delicate sensitivities like that."

Nathan was glaring at Scott, but he discarded the idea of pointing out that he hadn't started it. Scott didn't seem to be in the mood to listen, and fuck it... he just wanted to get out of here and go back to bed. "I'm sorry I lost my temper," he grated, not managing to sound quite as falsely pleasant as Haroun. "I'll make sure we carry out any further... conversations like this in person." Yes, that would be a whole lot more satisfying...

It was getting harder and harder to keep a straight face, but Scott managed it. "Very good," he said approvingly. "Now, you're both--hell, all three of us are tired, sore, and cranky, so I think we can put this all behind us. Right?" It wasn't a question, and Haroun and Nathan gave him such identically sullen looks that the urge to laugh was almost unbearable. He went on, though, his tone growing more serious again. "And I feel like I need to point out that the jet would have been a hell of a lot more damaged than it is if the two of you hadn't cooperated to get us down the rest of the way yesterday. Something to keep in mind, no?"

"I have no problems working with Ms Dayspring over here, I just wish he'd quit manhandling my - THE jet so sloppily. I know, I know stress, suddenness, etc etc etc but that's why we train so obsessively, isn't it?" said Haroun, then winced as his back went twinge. "Anyway - I think I'm gonna go hit the baths. I _ache_. You need me for anything else, Fearless Leader?" he asked Scott.

Nathan turned that alarming purple color again, but Scott raised a hand, forestalling the eruption. "Go soak, Haroun," he said with a sigh. "And Nathan? Go back to bed." He shook his head, half-aggravated, as he turned back towards the door. "The two of you did well yesterday. Don't let what-ifs and recriminations obscure that, okay?"

Nathan couldn't help glaring at Haroun as Scott left. There were any number of things he could have said in response to Haroun's choice of adverbs there, but... no. Scott was right. Bed was good. He turned on his heel and stalked back out of the room.