xp_logs | [Paul, Moira] Stubborn people are much 'arder ta take out. Take it from me. (Reply)

Moira catches Paul trying to walk around on his own and settles him back down. They talk about Nate and Moira discovers that Paul doesn't take too well to being mothered. It goes well, though, and they're very cute together.

Paul opened his eyes and focussed on the clock. 17:32. It hadn't even been two when he'd seen it last and he'd just closed his eyes a little. Where was his time going? He shifted, he sticking to everything as usual, and sighed. He was thirsty. No water allowed, but there was ice in the freezer as usual. He could get that. It was just down the hall. He worked himself to sitting and then grabbed the IV post. Perfect. Feet on the floor. All he had to do now was get up and walk. No problem. No sense bothering anyone.

"Ye know, most people would press th' shiny button on th' side o' their bed if'n they needed somethin'." Moira leaned against the doorframe, watching Paul with concerned eyes. She had decided to check on him after making a run upstairs to the library to get a few things with Paul in mind. Along with a cup of ice chips. She shook them at him and smiled. "I'm assumin' ye were goin' ta make th' journey ta get these, aye?"

"I didn't want to bother anyone," he said, refusing to feel sheepish. "Besides, I'm not dying, right? I should be getting up. And yes." He looked longingly at the cup in her hand, not even aware of his expression.

Shutting the door behind her, she shook her head, still smiling and walked over. Dropping the other bundle on the table next to the bed, she helped Paul lay back down. "Nay, yer nay diein' but th' last thin' we want ye ta do is wear yerself out when _none_ o' us mind takin' care o' ye. 'ere ye go." She handed him the cup and then went to bring a chair closer to his bed.

"I don't get sick," Paul said, yet again. It was becoming a mantra. "And I almost never get hurt." He put some ice in his mouth and sighed with relief. The blisters were getting to be more than annoying. "I'm not used to it," he admitted.

"Which is why we're keepin' such a close eye on ye," she admitted, settling herself in. "Besides th' fact tha' we're all worried 'bout ye."

"I'll be fine," Paul said, trying to brush it off. He shrugged and then winced. Damnit, he thought he'd stopped that habit. "Like I said to Haroun, God's not going to let me off that easy." He didn't look at her, just poked a finger around in the cup of ice like a child. The cold felt good.

"Neither are th' rest o' us," Moira said lightly, reaching over and producing a slightly damp, but very chilled, wet cloth. "This'll help ye feel a bit better, it'll feel verra differen't." Gently, she laid the cloth on his forehead. When Kevin had his fits, she had to do this for him as well.

Paul tried not to pull away from the gentle touch, closing his eyes. It did feel good, he had to admit that much. "Thanks," he said quietly. Her kindness was making him want to crawl out of his skin. Too much like hospices, too little like childhood. "I'll be fine, really."

She made a soft noise in the back of her throat but backed off slightly, catching the tension in his body. All those years on Muir had taught her a valuable lesson of pushing to a certain degree and then backing off. People, in their time, if they were inclined, would come to her. As much as Paul tried to hide it, there was a lot going on beneath that pretty boy surface of his. "O' course ye will. Stubborn people are much 'arder ta take out." She smiled at him. "Take it from me."

Paul laughed quietly. "I think you and Nate have the corner on stubborn around here, I have to admit."

"Lord, together our 'eads are 'arder than most mountain ranges," Moira said, dryly. "'Tis rather interestin' when 'e an' I get inta it."

"I can imagine. God knows he's high-maintenance. No idea how you do it." Paul shook his head and that hurt. Ouch, he had to stop that too. Lying very still was good, but very boring. "I hope you give as good as you get."

"Trust me, I do. An' despite th' Scottish temper, I've got a good deal o' patience in me. I can out-wait almost everyone." Moira sent him a knowing glance before reaching over and picking up a few things. "Stopped by the library on me way 'ere. Figured ye were goin' out o' yer skull wit' boredom."

"You didn't have to do that," Paul said reflexively. "But thanks." He pushed the cool cloth back so he could see her clearly.

"I dinnae 'ave ta but I wanted ta," she responded. "Some music CDs an' a good number o' books on CDs. These are a God send when ye dinnae 'ave much else ta do."

"I hate this." Paul looked all of ten; thin and tired, wearing well-worn scrubs as pyjamas, hair limp and tucked back behind his pointed ears. "If I could see straight, I could do something at least. Thanks," he added a little sheepishly. "Me having time to think is probably not such a good idea."

"Sometimes thinkin' is nay all tha' 'tis cracked up ta be." Moira started ta say something but then stopped and gently picked up Paul's hand. "Wha' on eart' did ye do?" she asked, startled at the crack on the back of his hand.

"Oh, I just grabbed something without thinking," he said, not quite ready to get Nathan in trouble. "It's scabbed over, see? It's okay."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Unless tha' somethin' could move on 'tis on, I'm assumin' it was a some_one_...?"

Paul sighed. Damnit. She had that mother thing down pat. He gave her a narrow, irritated look. "I was keeping Nathan from trying to break up the thing between Amanda and Jubilee... with his brain," he said, sounding very grumpy. "I had to grab him before he got away from me."

"I'm goin' ta throw a kosh ball at 'is 'ead," Moira said simply, checking to make sure the cut was truely scabbed over. "But thank ye."

"High maintenance," Paul reiterated. "I prefer him without his brain running out his nose. Ruins his good looks."

A blink and then a snicker escaped. "Aye, it would at tha'. Did ye tell 'im it would?"

"I did," Paul said smugly. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?" His expression grew serious then as something occurred to him. "Is Amanda okay? Physically, at least?"

"Physically? She'll be fine. Bumps an' th' lass'll be verra bruised, probably." Moira sighed. "Physically, she'll be fine. I think she's sleepin' now, last time I left 'er, anyway."

Paul frowned darkly and sighed. "That's something at least. Good to hear. Tell her I asked about her, will you, if you see her later?"

"I will. An' if'n she's up ta it, later, I'll see she stops by if'n ye want?"

"Only if she wants," Paul said. "I'm okay, really. She made herself tired yesterday, I think. I don't remember too well."

"'ealin' does tha' ta 'er, 'tis why we keep an eye on 'er use o' it. But I'm glad tha' it did 'elp ye."

"God, yes." Paul nodded, relief showing clear on his face. "Really. I've never been so happy to see someone in my life. I'd forgotten she could do that kind of thing or I'd have been begging for her about twelve hours before she showed up.

"I can understand, I know wha' 'tis like throwin' up every time ye wake up." She leaned back and smiled a little. "When I was pregnate, th' entire thin' was verra rough, so I know wha' ye were goin' through--at least a wee bit."

Paul grinned at her. "I think most women say it's worth it, don't they? After this I'm guaranteed to be child-free, not that I was going to be getting into that anyways."

"For th' time I 'ad? Verra." She smiled back, slightly tinged with sadness but she reminded herself that she wasn't going to hide that anymore. "From wha' I've seen, yer good wit' kids--Clarice adores ye, apparently."

If Paul could have blushed, he would have, but the burn didn't show it well. He fussed with fishing more ice out of the cup. "I don't do well with children, overall. Teenagers are tolerable. I'm just never sure what to do with kids."

"Treat them like adults--ye 'andle Nathan well durin' 'is moments," she pointed out, teasing.

That got a laugh out of him. "Stubborn old men, I can handle," Paul said. "I've been doing that for years."

"Giant three year old," she agreed, incredibly cheerfully. "But I love 'im even durin' those moments. I really cannae thank ye enough for wha' ye've done for 'im."

"What I've....?" Paul was puzzled. "I didn't do anything." He hadn't. Had he? No. He'd just been puttering along as usual, getting as much fun as he could.

Moira grinned at him. "Nathan likes ye an' ye've done a few thin's for 'im ta 'elp 'im relax an' keep 'is mind off o' thin's."

Paul waved his hand, brushing it off. "He happened to intersect with my fun. I'm glad it did him some good."

"It did 'im a lot o' good." She tilted her head and changed the subject. "Wit' th' 'ealin', are ye feelin' any better?"

"A lot," Paul said, trying to sound reassuring in spite of his sore throat. "Haven't been sick since Amanda took care of me and I'm sure she had some effect on my bone marrow, which I needed. Things are moving faster than I expected. I plan to be in class when it starts."

An eyebrow quirked slightly at that announcement. "If ye are, more th' better but we'll be judges o' tha'. Stubborn patients..." A smile took any sting out of her words, she knew Paul would work as much as he could ta get to that point. "Ye are makin' good progress though, thankfully. Some mutations 'andle thin's like this differently."

Paul nodded. "I've survived things that should have killed me before. I'll be fine. And I'll be careful about going back. Haroun will kill me if I die."

"An' then we'll 'ave ta kill 'im ta avenge ye an' tha' jus' starts a whole vicious cycle," Moira said mournfully.

Paul schooled his face to a solemn expression. "For the good of us all, I'll be careful." Then he yawned and winced as his lip split again. "...damn." He grabbed a tissue.

"I'd say be careful but I think ye know tha'." She eyed him and realized he was starting to droop a little. "Ye look like ye could do wit' some more sleep," Moira murmured. "I'll leave ye ta get some rest an' listen ta th' stuff I brought, then?"

Paul nodded. "Thanks, Moira." He gave her a smile and settled down. "And I'll push the stupid button next time, okay?"

"Please do." Rising, she headed towards the door. "Get better, Paul, an' soon."

"Don't worry. Really. I won't look this bad longer than necessary. Side effects include depth of character and responsibility which may be dangerous to my health." Paul pulled the covers up and closed his eyes reluctantly, unable to keep awake anymore.