[Paul, Nathan, Hank] Boys go play.

[x-vega.livejournal.com]

"Has it really only been a week since the last time we did this?"

Paul settled his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and walked out into the morning sun with Hank and Nate on either side of him. He was dressed in worn jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved shirt that covered his still-healing skin. His hair was held back under the bandana he'd taken to wearing to keep from thinking about it. He stopped on the front step to take in the morning air, hands in his pockets.

"I'm not going to keel over, you two," he said dryly. It was true. He felt a little uncertain but not weak. "What car are we taking?"

"The Jeep," Nathan said, indicating it with a wave. "Packed and all - and I did it by hand, thank you very much," he said wryly, anticipating the question. "Talk about tedium."

Ah, fresh air. Sunshine. Those little things that somehow manage to fall by the wayside when people start rolling into medlab every couple of days. And oh, so lovely when one gets back to it. Tilting one of his tinted pairs of glasses down, he peered at Nate with some small amusment coloring his voice as he followed the direction of the wave. "The open-air jeep, one hopes. It seems the most appropriate, after all. And I said nothing, Paul. I wasn't even considering it."

"You were thinking it." Paul cast a look up and over his shoulder at Hank. "I know you, McCoy. You don't fool me. You make this little noise under your breath when you're evaluating. Let's go." He clapped Nathan lightly on the shoulder. "Lead on, McDuff. I want a croissant before we hit the hill, let's go by that bakery we went to last time."

"Oh, tish-tosh," Hank sniffed disdainfully. "Know me you may, but you've still missed your mark this time. I was rather more pausing to reflect on how nice it is to be out of the mansion, even before leaving the grounds." He nimbly heaved his bulk into the jeep, claiming the back seat for himself. And that's his story; he'll be sticking to it, thank you.

Smiling wryly at the interplay, Nathan got into the driver's seat and waited for the other two to settle themselves before he started the car and headed down the driveway. "Has it really only been a week since the last time we did this?" he asked curiously, glancing sideways at Paul. "Feels longer."

"Only a week," Paul affirmed, making himself comfortable in the passenger seat, turning a little so he could see Hank more easily. "Feels like a decade. More, from the way my joints ache. Time really is relative, especially around here." He waved farewell to the house rather whimsically as they pulled away.

"It's good to see the other side of the gates, isn't it?" he said to Hank. "You do know about all the new-fangled inventions out in the world like bubble tea and internet cafes and low-rise jeans, don't you? Should we be worried about culture shock?"

"At the risk of presenting ideas worth investigation to your non-corporeal friends who apparently find temporal mechanics so fascinating to argue about... I've long suspected the mansion of residing in the midst of some complex eddy in the time stream, as it were. And that being why the weeks seem like months until you venture outside. You get used to it after a while..." He'd taken the opportunity afforded by the back of the jeep to stretch out in a lazy sprawl, arms across the back of the seat, eyes protected by the sunglasses as he gazed upwards. "Oh, we are droll today, aren't we? One might almost think you were as pleased to be out of the basement as I am."

They were going to be at this all day, Nathan suspected, and grinned at the thought. "Yeah, please don't encourage them, Hank," he said with a snort, taking the back road Paul had the last time. The bakery was still some distance away. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he bent his no-longer-wrapped wrist experimentally, pleased at the lack of soreness. "I think I'm okay to lead out today."

"Good. Hank can anchor for us, because God knows I'm not fit for anything but a nice, safe spot in the middle." Paul nestled down in the seat, leaning his head on the rest and partly closing his eyes behind his sunglasses. "It is good to be out of the basement, Hank. I don't know how you stand it, I'd go insane down there. You know those Wheel of Time books? What was the name they had for the people around whom events accumulate? I'm starting to belief that was a valid theory."

Hank's reply came in the tone of someone imparting a closely-held secret. "There's sufficient soundproofing in the ceiling to effectively muffle the uproar from the Tulmultous Upstairs during the day. Up until about Suppertime, it actually increases sanity during those times that the students are up to particularly impressive acts of mischef-making. And honestly, I don't recall the name. I tend to think of Mr. Jordan as something of a hack writer, I'm sad to report. But you're right-- I think he may have something there."

"Please," Nathan said, mock-pained. "No philosophy. It's entirely too nice a day for philosophy." Much nicer than the last time they'd gone climbing, actually. Clear and fresh and vaguely autumn-like - perfect climbing weather, as far as he was concerned. "As for Robert Jordan, I read the whole damned series - to that point, I mean - sitting in a safehouse in Siberia once. They weren't that good. I was that bored."

"International flights," Paul explained. "Ottawa to Tokyo to Sidney to LA... they kept my mind off of the fact that I was stuck in a little tincan going far slower than I could go alone. Stupid that as a mutant-rights spokeperson I still had to take a plane so I wouldn't have to explain how I got there so fast," he mused. "But Nate's right. Too pretty out to think much. Talk about other things. Like rocks. Hank, you've been climbing before, aside from the medlab walls?"

"Nate. Siberia, safehouse. Bored is redundant at that point, I'd imagine." He had to admit agreement on the day being wasted on philosophy and the like. "Recreationally, I have not had the pleasure. More than once on a mission, but I'm not convinced one can count such as solid experience for today's purposes. I am aquainted with the basics, however."

"It loses most of its charm when you're doing it on the job, I find," Nathan said, taking the next turn. "Too much pressure to get to the top, too little enjoyment in getting there." The bakery was just ahead - he pulled in, stopping the car, and looked inquiringly at the other two. "I can run in. Croissant for you, Paul - anything else? Hank?"

"Tea, please, as I'm not allowed coffee yet." Paul cast a baleful look at Hank. "And one croissant is about all I can handle right now." He was the picture of disgruntled elfness, slouched in the front seat of the Jeep and fighting a pout

Looking down to answer Nate just in time to catch Paul's look, the object of full-baled looks affecting a mock-hurt expression. "Nothing for me, thank you... ate just before we left. Paul, you wound me. I'd have thought solid food and getting out would be progress enough for anyone." It's not an argument, really. But the look tossed his way deserved some response.

Nathan gave Paul an admonishing look. "Be nice to the man who's going to be on belay," he said with a grin. "I'll be right back."

"I have been a saint," Paul muttered, defending himself to Hank. "A saint, I tell you. I wasn't sick on you once." He poked around in the glove box and came out with some CDs to look through.

"So, if I survive this, do I get to sleep in my own bed tonight?" he asked hopefully. "No more dungeon?"

"I'm pleased to report that unless you manage to fall off this rock we're headed for in some significant way, I should think you can handle scaling the stairs back to home sweet room," Hank drawled. "Though, there's still that moving thing to finally get around to. I'm viewing it with some trepidation, myself. Probably borne out of leaving it off for so long."

"Merde." Paul sighed and flipped through the CDs. "I just got unpacked, too. We /have/ to move? No, don't answer that, I have the horrible image of Cain pitching my wines and aboriginal sculptures across the compound to the new wing for me. Do tell me we still get to be far, far from the students. Please?"

Hank chuckled. "I'm sure the image is all the more realistic due to its probably accuracy, at that. It's a wonder he hasn't torn my room wholesale from the mansion and chucked it out on the lawns so he can get to work. But then, I suppose that would ruin his lawn. Explains that." He adjusted his glasses. "As I understand it, aside from some senior students getting nicer accomadations and the like, things ae largely unchanged, and we still enjoy our tenured perks, as it were. though I'm forced to admit, I believe my tenure might be wasted on me. A whole room to myself, but I can hardly claim to habitate it regularly. On the whole, there seems to be both more liveliness and solitude downstairs. I'm not sure how that works out, save paradoxally."

Paul pondered this for a while. Living alone for the few months following his retirement hadn't done him any good and he'd only made it to February before seeking refuge in a friend's apartment in Toronto. He didn't like company. He didn't like people. He didn't. But he liked being alone even less.

"Paradox is an everyday occurrance at Xavier's," Paul noted dryly. "From reading the journals, I got the impression that some of the staff were sharing the apartment-style suites." He looked into the back seat where Hank was sunning himself blissfully. "If you don't want to have a suite to yourself, perhaps you should share with someone. Perhaps someone relatively quiet and cultured who already prefers furry living companions."

That earned a quirked eyebrow, And Hank tilted his glasses up so that he could tilt his head down, and make sure Paul was not exhibiting the sorts of cheeky behaviour common among... everyone. The discovery of an entirely serious offer on the table had the by-product of making him forget whatever witty comment on paradoxes in the mansion had been on his tongue, so he could mull the notion over. Paul was intelligent, Paul had undeniable class. And had already succeeded in coaxing him out of the mansion for the first time in (too) many passings of the moon. "You know... that might just be one of the most solid ideas I've heard in the last several months." Perhaps, indeed, all that his room ever really needed was more life in it.

"I think, that tomorrow, assuming this trip is as taxing as expected, a visit to survey whatever remains of the new suites might just be in order, at that."

Nathan returned with Paul's croissant and an orange juice for himself, and immediately picked up on the oddly happy undercurrent between the other two. Smiling happily, he decided not to question it. "Here," he said brightly, handing Paul his croissant as he got back into the Jeep. "The little girl at the counter was pouting that you weren't with me this time."

I won't be tired," Paul protested, taking his things from Nate. "We can go look at the suites this afternoon. I'm better now. I'm never tired." And if he said it enough times, it might actually be true. "Is there a deadline on moving? I don't remember any of this."

The last week or so had taught Hank not to even start in on the tired issue. largely because Paul would protest, grumble, and pass out anyway if he needed to, so the effort to debate was largely a waste. So instead, he went back to enjoying the backseat. "I don't believe there's any firm deadline we, specifically, need to worry after. Being in the 'nuked' and 'working or sleeping' categories for the better part of the whole bit."

"You two are going to be rooming together?" Nathan asked with another smile as he started the Jeep and pulled out of the parking lot. "Glad to hear it. The new suites are very nice, by the way. Quite roomy."

"Better than both of us rattling around our own suites at loose ends during downtime," Paul said, nibbling at his croissant. "Besides, Delphine likes Hank. It makes sense. I'm glad there's room, I have the feeling that Hank accumulates mechanical bits and medical journals faster than Delphine accumulates pens."

"Or rattling around somewhere that isn't the suite, as the case my be with certain of us who plead the fifth. A state of affairs that your roomate, Nathan," An amused look was tossed over his glasses at the back of their driver's head, "...finds altogether unacceptable. Or thus the loud vocals and occassional thrown item to the tune of 'O Henry, Get Your Arse to Bed(Hop Along, Hop Along)' lead me to believe." Collegues. What would he do without them? "Gadgets and oddments... yes, though many find their way to being released into the wilds of the mansion along the way. Medical journals... not so much, now that they've started coming printed in ones and zeros more often than not. I do miss the smell of a fresh-printed treatise being cracked open the first time. Alas, the price of progress."

Nathan grinned and sat back as he drove, listening to Paul and Hank banter the rest of the way. This was entirely too much fun, he thought. No kids, no stress - the two were more closely related than he really wanted to think about right now, he decided, and concentrated on driving.

The trip was slightly longer, this time, given that he didn't drive as quickly as Paul did, but they still got there in good time. And the weather showed no signs of changing.

Getting set up didn't take long. With Hank to help there was no need for a top-rope and the quick-draws all the way up would make for safe, fast climbing. Well, Paul allowed, as fast as he could go. Somehow, he'd manage to misplace well over twenty pounds from his already spare frame in the last week. He tightened his harness several notches. Shoes and gloves were in order, of course, as his skin was still healing, but there was no way he was wearing more than shorts in this weather. The sun felt unusually warm on his new skin.

Feeling much like a child between Nate and Hank, Paul swung up onto the first part of the climb once Nate was up and away. It was going to be a long climb. He was certifiably insane to be doing this in his condition.

That was a point Hank would have to agree on, were someone to ask-- excepting that he was here, adjusting the fit on a pack that was mostly full of assorted medical gear that could conceivably come into play, getting it arranged with the other assorted equipment he'd strapped on as a matter of course. Insanity would be the other two men attempting this on their own in their respective conditions. Counting himself there, he was willing to downgrade it to a conservative 'slightly ill-advised' and bypass 'damned foolhardy' entirely.

Once ready, he waited for Paul to get a little bit of lead space before he set himself to follow. With the other two being cautious about the climb, he finds he has plenty of time along the way to pick and choose solid handholds and footholds to wedge into, providing a solid purchase should the need to catch anyone arise. And the whole prospect of a good climb was invigorating, particularly to the Beast Stuck in the Basement the Past Week that had been pacing around the back hallways of his mind. Really should remember to get out more, he mused while keeping pace with the other two men.

Leading out. As he climbed, he could almost imagine that there was nothing else in the world but the rock, no one else but the two men below him. It was the most liberating feeling imaginable, and he reveled in it. He'd missed this so much.

"You two doing okay down there?" Nathan asked as he looked up for a handhold. There. He took it, pulling himself around an outcropping.

"I'm fine," Paul said lightly. He was already sweating a bit and the wind cooled him as fast as the sun warmed him. This kind of vulnerability was new. Even as a child he'd been able to run barefoot in the snow or walk across asphalt in the summer without wincing. "Don't know how old man McCoy is, though," he teased. "How's the big world treating you, Hank?"

Hank snorted at the question posed, but the grin behind it was plain to the ear, if not visible to the eye. "Want to race me? The old man's doing quite well." More than, in fact, he reflected, as one heavy hand found another handy bit of rock to affix to. He'd considered, on more than one occassion already, pausing to lean out from the wall, and look out over the surrounding landscape. But they weren't, he felt, yet high enough to provide the sort of thrill he was expecting upon doing such a thing... and it would be a shame to suffer a disappointment at the hands of impatience like that. "Pity you two aren't covered in fur. This breeze blowing through it is a singular experience." A light ruffling all over. It (and fingers running through said fuzz, though he was pitifully short on that score of late) were definitely the high points of having such a sometimes-difficult outward appearance.

"No racing," Nathan said, mock-severely. "You've got an unfair advantage, Hank. And you see me being lead climber here, right? I get to set the pace." He hauled himself upwards, ignoring the twinge from his wrist. "So I find myself thinking again about getting some of the kids out here doing this," he said, pausing for a moment to survey the prospects just above him.

"Thinking about getting them out here, or about saving it all for us?" Paul asked, remembering their conversations about Nathan needing to step back. His muscles were twitchy and he had to double-check his grip when Nathan stopped to evaluate the route. This had better pass /soon/, he thought.

"The former," Nathan said, deciding they needed to go to the left a little. He could sense Paul's hesitation, and brushed against his thoughts briefly, just to make sure it wasn't anything serious. "Oh, don't get me wrong," he said, pulling himself upwards. "I'm not suggesting climbing as therapy or anything - although it would probably be good for some of them. But there are at least a handful of them who would probably enjoy it for its own sake and not try to take the opportunity to kill each other..."

Hank, of course, is spending part of his attention looking for tremors like that... but it's quite enough to simply be aware of them while watching for slips. "Speaking wholly as someone who has resolved to spend less time in Medlab, I should think they manage to break themselves often enough without the assistance of a sheer rock face." He shot a grin up said climbing path. "Besides... if you start bringing students out for this, we'll have to find even more ridiculously precarious entertainments to amuse ourselves with."

"I still think it would be a good idea," Nathan said stubbornly. "Phys ed that doesn't involve trying to hit each other..." The handhold he had just grabbed gave on him and he swore, falling about two feet before he caught himself on another. He paused for a moment to catch his breath. Had almost caught himself telekinetically there; that wouldn't have been good.

Paul heard the crack before Nathan's cursing and braced himself, forehead to the stone in front of him, in case Nathan failed to recover.

"Okay up there?" he asked when he couldn't hear Nathan's shoes and gloves scraping on the rockface any longer. A few pebbles rattled down, bouncing off of his shoulders. He looked up to see Nathan only an arm's length above him now.

A chuckle, as Nate doggedly pressed on. "I was being facetious, anywa--" Then the slip, and Hank shifted his assorted grips on the hand and footholds he'd been choosing for just such an occassion... but then it turns out to be unnecessary, and he opens his mouth to ask... the very thing Paul beats him to. No need to ask, then-- the answer's the important thing.

"Fine," Nathan gritted, giving himself another moment to let the rush of adrenalin fade before he tried to find new footholds. Okay, that had been moderately embarrassing. "Just a slip. I ever mention that I fell halfway down the Hilary Step, Paul?"

"If you had, do you think I'd be letting your great weight toddle up hill above my skinny little self?" Paul teased. With a single, cat-like motion he caught up enough to pat Nate lightly on the back of one calf, then he let the other man put some distance between them. "Was that one of your trips with Dom?"

"No, I went to Everest on my own. I was... twenty-three, I think. Did it solo, without oxygen. Rather enjoyed myself, actually." He climbed steadily, settling back down to the task at hand.

Hank was content to let the pair banter a bit, quietly climbing along behind. At least until the Everest statements, at which point it's too difficult not to toss something wry and amused up the rocky face. "Ah, now I see why this isn't a silly and foolhardy stunt we undertake now...." His voice dropped, but not so the other two couldn't still hear him clearly. "Note to self... prior to these expeditions, ask if the frame of reference is Nathan's prior to tacit agreement."

Nathan laughed. "Everest was easy. K2, now, that was a challenge. Although the only time I actually almost killed myself was on Denali, and I blame the weather there." He had gotten back to a proper interval between himself and Paul, and his pride had stopped whining at him. Slips happened, after all.

"It's /always/ the weather, Nate," Paul said, laughing. "It's the only thing we can't control, so it's the first thing to blame." They were approaching the chimney now. That would require concentration, so would the switchback. Paul took serious stock of himself, feeling his body out with every pull of his arms and push of his legs. He was steady enough, the twitches weren't all tiredness, they were more healing nerves. He could make it. He tilted his head back, getting a glimpse of the destination far above them. He'd get there.

Behind Paul, Hank was beaming cheerily. This was much better than being stuck in the basement-- which, as seriously as he takes his work, was not entirely his doing. There are relatively few people that can do what needs to be done down there, and there'd been a steady stream of things needing doing for... months, really. If not in medlab, then in a workshop or at a keyboard... to say nothing of the important long-term projects he'd had on his plate taking up a background priority in various ways. But here... just himself, two friends, and a big hunk of rock. Opportunity to stretch and let surging muscle haul his bulk up the face. A little chance to set Dr. Henry McCoy aside, let Hank breathe some fresh air, and give the Beast a little walk where some level of primalcy wcould only be tallied as a plus. All told... an excellent day out, and one he was happy to have been 'dragged' on.

Nathan led the way into the chimney, concentrating on the climb, leaving conversation for later. Moderately challenging, this particular chimney, especially given that his equilibrium wasn't quite what it should be. He focused on one move at a time, trusting the other two to see to themselves (and Hank to keep an eye on Paul, just in case).

This was it, no turning back from here. Paul cast a glance over his shoulder. Hank was coming up behind him, steady and easy, grinning his toothy, beast-grin. The sun shimmered in his fur and he looked completely at home and at ease on the rockface. Above them, Nate stretched and pulled himself up into the narrower space of the chimney, eyes ahead on their path. Tired as he was, and all but flightless for the moment, and as far as it was to the ground, Paul smiled. He wasn't crazy, he was as safe as houses.

"Once more into the breach, dear friends," he said lightly as he entered the shadow of the chimney.

---

Long-awaited Rock Climbing Log (at least by us!) from last Thursday.  No summary except that Hank actually leaves the basement(!) and accompanies Nate and Paul on their expedition up a piece of the Gunks.  Oh and Paul and Hank decide to move into a shared suite together, though neither of them had been planning such.  The boys are just that, boys.  I <3 this scene.  So much love to Cory and Alicia for this one, because it was great to do a 3 person scene like this.