LOGS: Clarice & Nathan, then Paul

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First, Clarice goes to visit with Nathan and tries to make him whine. It kinda works. Then she heads down to the medlabs to FINALLY visit Paul. Fluff and Major Character Development ensues and snot is shared.


Clarice knocked on Nathan's door with trepidation, she hoped he wasn't asleep. Or cranky. Those tended to be his two moods recently and heaven help those who got caught in the crossfire.

Sprawled sideways across the bed reading 'Allah's Mountains: The Battle for Chechnya', Nathan blinked at the knock and sat up. Bella, still gnawing on Moira's pillow, let out a protesting squeak, and he scratched her head. "You stay there, feathers," he said, getting up and leaving the bedroom. "Come in," he called once he was in the living room, running a hand through his hair, which was probably
sticking up straight or something.

She opened the door, "Hi, Nathan," she said, coming in. "You busy?"

"Very much not," Nathan said with a smile for Clarice, waving at the couch. "I'm doing my absolute best to slack off today. It's strangely liberating."

"I slack, therefore I am," she quoted from a Disney show, "I used to watch way too much TV. But are doing better?"

Nathan nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs and letting her have the couch. "Head's a lot better today," he said heerfully. "How are you?"

"I'm doing better. I mean, I'm not going to be kicked out of the medlab, so that's good," she paused, "I just...haven't been around to talk to you. And you got brainwashed and then it leaked out your ear...it's not fair."

"Fair?" Nathan smiled wryly. "No, I suppose it's not. But it happened. And I am going to be okay, Clarice." He paused, tilting his head at her. "What's this about being kicked out of the medlab?"

"I know, life isn't fair. I don't need a lecture on that one," Clarice told him, wryly, "The medlab? I was a brat. They didn't kick me out, but I thought they were going to. I was upset over Paul and Shiro and yeah. Not at my best."

"Hard when people you care about are sick or hurt and you can't do anything to help them," Nathan said. "But they'll both be okay, you know. And so long as you've learned from the reactions to your reaction, you're ahead of the game."

"I have a new rule. Never make the same mistake twice. It comes in handy and keeps things interesting." Clarice fiddled with her hair, "But we're supposed to talk about you and all your woes. Or at least how a decaffinatted Dr. M is just wrong."

"Why don't we skip my woes? They're rather woeful," Nathan said with a chuckle. "But yeah, Moira is suffering without the coffee. I've given it up in solidarity, but really, it's not helping much."

"Because that's why I came!" Clarice rolled her eyes. Adults. "I, y'know, care? And it's not like you haven't listened to me whine before."

"What, you want me to whine at you?" Nathan asked fondly. He had missed Clarice, he thought suddenly.

"Mmm," she considered, "Yes. Whine. And I'll give you cheese!"

Nathan brightened. "What kind? I like cheese." And this was turning into a truly silly conversation, but how many of those had he really had lately?

"Not blue cheese, that's gross. Maybe feta? But you have to whine for it." This was silly, but silly was not bad after everything that had happened.

"I'm something of a cheese gourmet," Nathan confessed mischievously. "If I whine, do I get something French and smelly?"

"Only if I don't have to eat it too. Smelly cheese is gross and should be thrown away or used for revenge," oh that's it, give him more ideas. Stupid.

"You should never judge a cheese by its smell," Nathan said and then started to laugh, slouching in his chair. "Crap, Clarice, I sound like a lunatic."

"You are a lunatic, so what?" It wasn't like there weren't people much crazier running around the school. "I mean, this place does attract weird."

"Can't deny that." Bella squawked from the other room and he looked back over his shoulder in the direction of the bedroom door. "Eat your pillow!"

"I don't want to know," Clarice muttered to herself, somethings were just better not explained.

"She's... oh, right, you said you didn't want to know." Nathan, still snickering, sank a little lower in the chair. "I was supposed to be whining, wasn't it? Hmm. My head hurts."

"Want some advil?" he was whining a little. This was good.

"No, it's okay. Don't really like painkillers," he said a little absently, his eyes wandering over the living room. They still had some unpacking to do. "They make me loopy. Even the over-the-counter stuff, sometimes."

"You're loopy regardless," Clarice informed him fondly, "Not sure we'd have it any other way."

Nathan smiled at her. "You're really sweet," he said affectionately. "Have I ever told you that?"

Clarice's jaw dropped. That was unexpected, even from a loopy Nathan. "Uh...no. Usually you tell me I'm an immature little girl."

He blinked. "Only the once," he protested weakly.

"It's okay, you're usually right. And you y'know, give advice on how to not be stupid. Which is usually helpful." this touchy-feelie stuff was odd. Very odd.

"Well, good. Because I'd hate to think I was unhelpful and growly." He smiled at her, the smile a little more subdued but no less warm.

"Nah, you're growly and helpful. It's all good." Clarice stood, "I better let you lie down before Dr. M yells at us."

"Thanks for stopping by, Clarice," he said, smiling up at her. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"'Kay! Feel better!" Clarice left, feeling much better. Two of her three friends were doing better. Not okay maybe, but better. And that was a start.



Clarice headed to the medlab, Delphine in hand, well, actually, she was nestled quite happily on her shoulder and was adamantly cleaning Clarice's neck. But anyways, Delphine was happy. It was all Clarice could do to not run down to see Paul, but she also couldn't disrupt Delphine.

Paul pushed the computer away from him. He'd been staring at it too much and his head hurt. He sat up a little and put another pillow behind him, then decided he was tired. How the hell was he going to get up the rock tomorrow? He'd sleep. He'd be fine. Footsteps were coming and he knew from the timing and cadence it was Clarice, probably with an armful of Delphine. He was surprised to find how much he was looking forward to seeing them.

"Paul!" she cried, rushing over to hug him, stopping inches from his body. "I'm not going to hurt you, am I?" she asked, concerned.

"No, chere," Paul said, smiling at the enthusiasm. It was unexpected and more than a little gratifying. "Just be gentle. Still not all healed in places." He shifted so she wouldn't get tangled in the IV line when she hugged him.

She hugged him as tightly as she dared, depositing Delphine on his bed in the process. The cat purred, rubbing up against Paul happily. "You look like shit," she told him stepping back, "but pretty shit."

Paul hugged back, a little tentatively at first but then more firmly before she let go. "You're too good to me," he said, amused. "How've you girls been?" Delphine shoved herself into his lap, mewling loudly.

"We've been good. Except Delphine does not like her little cat-clothes." Clarice was vaguely annoyed at that, but cats were cats. "You make Hank wear babyfood yet?"

"Cat clothes?" Paul laughed, settling back in the pillows and snuggling Delphine to him. "No, I didn't. Rahne ruined my plans utterly by making me dinner, and a good one at that."

"Pity," Clarice commented, "Hank covered in baby food was a nice image. How're you then? I mean, really?"

"I think I'm going to live," he said simply. "I feel like hell. I don't remember a lot of the last week and some. My vision is still poor. My stomach is just starting to function, reluctantly. I don't know if my hair will fall out or not. I'm thinking I won't hit the post-anastasis crash next week, but I could be wrong. Most of my skin has replaced itself and I'm not bleeding randomly all over the place now. That's how I am. Honestly."

Clarice wrinkled her nose. "Thanks. For being honest and for saving Shiro. I wish I could make it better, or at least, suck less. The websites really don't describe how awful this is. They sugarcoat it thinking it's for people with chemo or whatever."

"I think the sucking part is over. I'm way into the itching. New skin is hell." Paul made a face. "And as for Shiro... it was my job to save him. I'm pissed at him, but not for the reasons I'm sure other people are, and I understand. I'm glad he's okay."

"It might be your job, but I still have to thank you. He's my friend. And I'm getting the hang of this real-friends thing, I don't want to lose one now," she told him tartly, wandering around the room and idly flicking the IV bag, "But...you need more moisturizer? Lorna, Terry and I are going into town, possibly tomorrow. I could get you some."

"I'll be out tomorrow, and using sunscreen actually, but thanks." Paul moved Delphine so that she would lick his face in a new spot. "I'm glad Shiro's got a friend or two here. I've known him for a few years now. Not well, but enough to care."

"You've known him for years? How's that?" Now she was generally confused and curious. People knew each other in the strangest places. She barely knew anyone.

"Well, because of my job and my social contacts, I met Mariko when the winter Olympics were held in Nagano six years ago." Paul pulled the IV line away from Delphine, who was picking a fight with it. "That was when I met Shiro. I've seen the family every year or two ever since. I love the Cherry Blossom festivals and Mariko liked to have me over for dinner while I was in the area. I've always liked him."

"Oh. Yeah. That whole out and about social thing. Wouldn't know," now was not the time for self-pity she told herself firmly, "How is Kitty," she nodded at the plushie, "treating you?"

"She was stalking me," Paul said darkly. "But I was delirous and could have been wrong about it. Otherwise, she's great. She makes Nate behave."

"She only stalks those she loves," Clarice comforted, "It's an on-going problem with her, but she means well. And if she makes Nate behave then she's been a wery, wery good plushie!" she petted the toy on the head, "Oh yes you were!"

Paul shook his head, smiling. "And I thought I was bad about Delphine," he said. "You've been okay?" He asked, though she'd already said she was fine. "I'm sorry I lied to you Friday. I really did feel fine, but I knew it probably wouldn't last. I just didn't see any purpose making you worry too much."

"I'm not stupid, Paul, I looked it up online," the words came out more harshly than she intended, but it was bothering her, "And no...I'm not 'fine' but I'm not going to rant and rave anymore. I'm just sick of it all. Maybe it's summer. But school starts next week, so that'll be something different."

"Everyone's different, Clarice," he said, unperturbed. "And I should have been dead before we got back to the school. So there was no telling exactly what was going to happen."

"I'm glad you're not dead. Really. Then I would've had to be mad at Shiro and sad. And Delphine would miss you and even sleeping on my pillow wouldn't make her happy." It made a certain sort of logic. "Do you know what classes you're teaching?"

"French, God help me." Paul ticked these off on his fingers. "Post-Colonial literature, which will be fun. Mutation and Society, which will be a lot of grumbling and whining, but that's okay. It needs talking about and it's important to come up with solutions. And I'm teaching a course on sexuality, which is actually a fairly extensive
topic, and I am looking forward to that."

"I'm taking Arabic, blech, definately another semester and sexuality, who'd you piss off?" Clarice gave her unwanted opinion on each class. Well, almost.

"Hey, that's my favourite course," Paul said with an impish grin. "Seriously, I've spent the last ten years talking to people about sex. It's an important part of how we relate to each other. It says a lot about people and it's something good to talk about."

Somehow, Clarice seriously doubted this. "It's messy and people think you're a slut afterwards. Or if you don't have sex then you're a prude. There's no middle ground."

Paul quirked an eyebrow. "Hardly. That's what happens when people don't address the facts," he said blandly. "There's a lot of middle ground, people just get polarized because it's easier that way. I happen to rather like middle ground, myself."

"I thought you liked men," Clarice threw back, half trying to be mean and half trying to distract him. This was not her favorite subject.

"What's that got to do with it?" Paul looked genuinely surprised.

"Nothing," Clarice looked away, ashamed. "Sorry."

Don't be sorry," Paul said, leaning forward. "It doesn't bother me. What's bothering you?"

"I don't see the point in a sexuality class, either you know what you like or you don't." that's right, avoid the subject.

"Well, I don't think it's that easy, or it's not for a lot of
people," Paul said gently. "And sex is a pretty confused subject in our society. We get a lot of mixed messages about it. Like you said, you're a slut if you do and a prude if you don't, and that's just the very simplest scenario. That's not even getting into gender issues, disease, pregnancy, abuse, and violence that are often intimately tied into how we handle the issue of sex. It's
not just getting off and it's not just making babies. There's a lot to talk about."

Clarice closed her eyes. "If you say so."

"Chere." Paul reached out for her. "Whatever it is, it's okay."

"You know why I hate Manuel?" she asked suddenly.

"No, I don't." Paul stayed very still, listening.

"'Cause he thinks I'm some cheap American whore. I turned him down and I don't think anyone ever had before." Perceptions were an amazing thing.

Paul frowned a little, pulling the pieces together. "And why do you think he thinks that about you?"

"'Cause he's Manuel. Duh. He does hate me you know, threatened to kill me once on the journals. That doesn't make me like him more." Clarice kicked herself, she did not want to talk about this. Could they go back to Hello Kitty now?

"Why does this matter, chere?" Paul was sitting up in bed now, watching her carefully. "What's really bothering you? Do you think he's right?"

"He is the empath, right? I mean, he knows what people feel. And he didn't manipulate me, like he could have," it was weak, and they'd both been drinking that night.

"So that makes him an empath who thinks you're a whore. Why would you think he's right? I get the feeling he's off on a lot of things." Paul was positive she wasn't telling him the real story here.

"Because I had sex with Remy while he was here!" she cried, "And only because he said I was pretty! We didn't date or anything! I've had sex but I've never been on a date!"

There it was. "Chere, come here." Paul moved over and took Clarice's hand, tugging her closer to him. He was surprisingly strong for all that he was so sick. "That doesn't make you a whore. That makes you a girl who had sex with someone once."

She curled up next to him and let Delphine lick her tears as she cried. Being a teenager sucked. "Yes it does, it wasn't for love."

Paul pulled her close and stroked her hair. "There's a whole lot of different kinds of sex, chere, so many meanings for the same thing. And you might regret what you did, but it doesn't make you a bad person, and it certainly doesn't make you a whore."

"It doesn't?" Clarice sniffed, "But it wasn't for love. I mean, it didn't mean anything. It's supposed to mean something."

"Did it mean nothing to you?" he asked. "Yes, you weren't in love with the boy, but it did mean something to you. Maybe it didn't mean what the movies say it should mean, what all those Valentine's Day commercials say it should feel, but I'm sure it meant something. The fact that it wasn't for love doesn't make it wrong. Doing something for love doesn't make it right, either."

"It...I don't know. He said I was pretty. That's a stupid reason to have sex. Otherwise we should be." Now there was an image.

"Why's that a stupid reason? He made you feel good about yourself, skin and all." Paul ran a finger over her tear-stained cheek. "How is that stupid? I'll bet you never thought anyone would say it when they didn't have to, didn't you?"

"I - " she hiccuped, "No. Not really."

"There's nothing stupid about that, chere." Paul handed her a tissue. "I think that's pretty important. I've seen how you feel, how hard it is for you to be you. You're not stupid and you're not a whore. You were someone who needed to be told, in a really significant way, that she wasn't going to be left out forever."

"Is that what you thought? When you realized you were gay?" she was feeling a little better, but she still didn't quite believe him.

"A little, yes," he said softly, thinking back. It was so complicated, it was hard to pick what to tell her. "I was accused of being gay long before I knew I was. I wanted to be normal, mostly so it would all stop. I just wanted someone to touch me in a way that didn't hurt. That's what I was looking for."

"Normal," she laughed bitterly, "Can't do that one, even if we wanted to. But it's still overrated."

"It is. In the end, I don't think it exists." Paul was quiet, sad and serious. "How long have you been going around feeling like this?"

"Normal is relative. Here being weird is normal," it was a conclusion she had figured out a long time ago, even if she forgot it as often as she remembered it, "Um...a while? Since Manuel asked me to his room."

"What about the other boy? How long have you been going around feeling bad about yourself, chere?" Paul gave Delphine, who was trying to wedge herself between them, some attention.

"Remy? I didn't until Manuel asked me. No one knows about any of this except you. And I guess Mannie." Clarice absently petted Delphine who settled in between then, purring happily.

"And if you'd felt like you could talk about it, how would you have felt? Or maybe if you'd already thought about all this and made up your own mind about what it all means to you instead of what you'd been told?" Paul smiled at Delphine's mad attempts to get both of them to each scritch one ear.

"Huh? I hadn't been here long, didn't have anyone to talk to. Then stuff happened and kept happening. And then we got to now. I saw Dr. Samson once, but I think it was before this," somehow she knew that between this conversation and the one she had the other night with Cecilia, she was going to be visiting the good doctor again.

"I meant more if you'd, say, had a class where you got to talk about this kind of thing. Not your experiences, necessarily, but what it all means and what you're told and what's the truth. Like a class on sexuality that made you think about these things and made you more confident about addressing them." Paul tapped her nose, lightly.

"You're making me take it, aren't you?" Clarice said, exhausted emotionally and not really up to arguing.

"That would be contrary to the point, chere. You don't have to take it if you don't want to." Paul smoothed her hair back. "Do you think you should?"

"I think this conversation proved it, don't you?" she reached over Paul to get another kleenex. "But I'm only doing it because you're pretty," she blew her nose in a very unlady-like way.

"You just want an A," he accused gently, smiling at her.

"Duh." she smiled, "Sorry for snotting your stylish scrubs."

"Anything for a good cause," he said lightly. "Will you be okay?"

"Uh huh," she nodded, "and you will be too because I have surprises for you. And not cookies."

"Damn. Not even arrowroot ones?" Paul pouted at her.

"Not even. I have something better. But you have to get out of here first." Clarice informed him, extracting herself from Paul and Delphine. "Hello Kitty is going to protect you."

"I'll be out officially tomorrow," Paul said. "Tonight, I still belong to the medlab."

"Yay! Be good," she admonished, scooping Delphine up, "And sleep!"

"Like I have a choice. Sleep keeps happening to me." Paul leaned forward to kiss Delphine goodnight. "I'll see you both up in the real world."