xp_logs | Moira and Nathan, Tuesday night

(Backdated to last night because LJ was being mean!) Out in the woods, Nathan whines, just a little. Moira compares him to a Frost poem, he admits he's been compared to less flattering poetry and then quotes Rumi at her. Then they remember he promised her some public exhibitionism. (No, not that. You dirty-minded people.)

"Perfect night," Nathan murmured, settling back down beside her on the blanket. The fire crackled, spitting sparks upwards towards the clear night sky, and he smiled tiredly as Moira tugged the blanket up around his shoulders and shifted closer. "Might be a little chilly."

Flopping her head on his shoulder, Moira nodded, eyes half lidded. "Good. I 'ate this bloody 'ot weather, makes me all cranky." Idly, she swatted at Nathan when he snorted at her comment. "Quiet, ye."

"I've always liked autumn myself," Nathan said, smiling a bit at the playful swat. "And we're almost there. Almost done with summer, finally." He couldn't help a sigh. "You suppose that'll make a difference?"

"Wit' th' insanity?" She thought about it for half a second. "Nope, it'll be a different set o' insanity, mark me words."

"Great." His voice wavered a little, despite his attempt to sound flippant. "New types of insanity... can't be getting bored, can we?"

Forcing her eyes open, Moira leaned on her elbow and looked down at Nathan. Idly, she traced circles on his chest as she titled her head. "'ey now," she murmured, "somethin's'll get better."

"I know." He mustered a smile for her. "Just... really tired. I hope to hell I sleep tonight or I'm going to be the most unbelievable bastard in class tomorrow."

"Outside in th' cool night air, next ta a roarin' fire?" Moira asked, smiling at him. "Ye'll sleep fine, jus' watch."

He shifted a bit beneath the blankets, trying to get closer to her. "Promise?" he asked, a real smile tugging at his lips. "You solemnly swear to... uh, wear me out or something?"

Laughing, she allowed herself to be pulled closer and curled up on his chest, grinning at him. "Twist me arm, why dinnae ye?" she asked, teasing. "But I solemnly swear. Goofball."

Nathan chuckled and ran his fingers through her loose hair gently. But the amusement faded again almost immediately. "Did you see Jack before he left?"

"Mmmhmm. 'e looked...worried but I dinnae press." She cracked an eye open. "Everythin' okay...wait, dumb question, right?"

"He's getting annoyed with me, I think," Nathan said. "Oh, he's not letting on, but..." He stopped, grimacing a bit. "But I know."

Rolling her eyes, Moira scooted up a little bit and gently butted her head against his. "Stop tha'. Tha's probably 'is slightly stressed face. Jack doesnae get annoyed--unless yer diggin' yerself inta a nice, wee 'ole. Are ye?"

"I am," Nathan said a bit glumly, not really registering how much progress he had indeed made to be able to admit it this openly. "Manuel, and Amanda, and Angelo, and Angie, and even Jono, now..."

She eyed him quietly for a second before stirring slightly. "'ow does tha' go again...'Th' woods are lovely, dark an' deep, But I 'ave promises ta keep an' miles ta go before I sleep'. Remind me o' tha' poem a lot, Nathan. Did I ever tell ye tha'?"

Nathan blinked at her for a moment, at a loss for words. "No," he said, oddly touched. "I've been compared to less flattering poems, actually."

"I can imagine," Moira said, snickering slightly under her breath. "Sometimes--okay, a lot o' th' times ye remind me o' th' man in tha' poem. Stopping jus' briefly enough ta catch 'is wind before forcin' 'imself onward again. Miles ta go before I sleep."

"Except I'm constantly falling off the... what is it in that poem, a cart? And winding up faceplanting in the snow." Nathan couldn't help a tired snicker. "And my little horse is shaking and shaking his harness bells, wondering what kind of an idiot he has at the reins..."

She couldn't help but giggle slightly at the mental image and nuzzled closer to him. "Maybe th' 'orse is tryin' ta tell ye somethin'," she murmured. "I think ye've got most o' th' message but yer still tryin' ta figure out why ye still feel th' need ta keep goin' those miles before ye sleep." Moira stopped at the look he shot her and huffed. "So I've thought abou' this a wee bit!"

"I'm a hypocrite," Nathan concluded with another sigh. Moira poked him in the ribs, but he just frowned at her. "No, this is not me beating myself up. But how do I find the gall to tell Manuel, or Angie, or Amanda that they don't have to do everything, that they can't take responsibility for everything that they could do, when I don't know how to draw those lines myself?" He sighed again, more raggedly this time. "Though really, who am I kidding? I quite literally let Angie slip through the cracks because I was too concerned with my own problems, and Manuel... I called it quits with him because I couldn't do it anymore. So I can't really paint myself as the idiot soldiering on no matter what, can I?"

"'ow 'bout tellin' them _tha'_?" Moira asked, raising an eyebrow. "Damn it, Nathan, yer nay Superman for God's sake. Ye are verra much still 'uman--prone ta runnin' yerself inta th' ground an' makin' mistakes. Yer all--" She paused and smiled a little. "We are all still learnin, Nathan Daysprin', an' we're still goin' ta be prone ta makin' mistakes until th' day we die."

"I told Manuel. It made it worse," Nathan said distractedly. "And Angie... well, Angie I can help, even if I haven't since Mistra. I'll figure it out."

She rolled her eyes slightly and settled for poking him in the ribs again, figuring he was in one of those moods. Where whatever she said would simply roll over him and he'd figure it out later.

He twitched a bit at the poke. "I'm just so tired," he murmured. "I seem to be saying that so much lately."

"Then whenever we 'ave th' time, take th' chance ta rest," Moira offered.

"Is this your way of telling me to remember where we are?" he said lightly, smiling. "Point taken..." She laughed softly, and he closed his eyes as she settled down, her head on his shoulder again. "I did make a deal with Jack."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Well, it was actually sort of an ultimatum," Nathan said sheepishly.

Blinking, she waited for him to elaborate.

"Well, not really." He didn't want to make Jack sound unreasonable, after all. "He just... suggested that if I actually wanted to feel less... tired, I ought to put my money where my mouth was."

Shifting so she could comfortably look up at him without craning her neck, but still be able to have her head on his chest, she raised an eyebrow and idly stroked the link gently. "'ow so?"

"Like... this. And he was not at all happy with me about the not-sleeping." Nathan made a bit of a face. "The words 'You have a prescription for sleeping pills for a reason, Nathan' might have been said."

"Knowin' me old friend, aye, jus' might." If Moira snuggled any closer, there'd be a danger of suffication. "See? Nay th' only one tryin' ta tell ye ta take care o' yerself."

"Mmm," Nathan said. They were quiet for a few minutes, until Nathan finally chuckled. "'Charge of the Light Brigade'," he confessed.

Really, she couldn't help a rather loud round of giggling. "Never...ever..guessed! Nay in a million years!" Still giggling, she started tickling his ribs slightly.

"And guess who?"

"...Dom?" Another poke, another squirm. She was enjoying this.

"Nope. Guess again."

"Bridge?" It seemed he was having a harder time controlling the slight snickering.

"Noooo."

Another poke. "Whooo then?" she whined playfully.

"Pete. Believe it or not. Looked around at me when we were... well, never mind where we were or what we were doing. He turned around to me with that idiotic grin he gets and said 'So. Cannon to the left of them, cannon to the right of them... did I mention how much I bloody well hate you right now?'"

Another round of absurdly female giggling broke out of Moira at that and she had to stop idly poking him. Mainly because she was shaking so hard from the giggles it was hard to concentrate. "I knew I liked 'im for a reason," she snickered.

"Pete is entirely too impressed with his own cleverness at times," Nathan said sternly as she buried her face in his shoulder, giggling.

"Cannae say ye dinnae find tha' funny," she muttered, trying to come up with the energy to poke at him again. It was entirely too much fun.

"Quit that, woman," he bantered, grabbing her wrist. "Do I have to distract you?"

Moira pouted at him. "...maybe?"

"You're almost obscenely adorable when you stick your lower lip out like that, you know," Nathan said, and kissed her.

Her giggling was muffled but it was still there, even as enthusastic as the return kiss was. Pulling away slightly, she snickered again. "Only ye think tha'."

"I love you even when you're making faces at me," Nathan agreed, his smile a bit hesitant as he stared up at her. "And do you love me even when I have my head stuck up my own ass?"

"O' course I do." Leaning over, she brushed his lips with hers gently. "Love ye even when yer bein' grouchy, irritable an' generally actin' like yer verra much nay yer age." Every couple of seconds was puncuated by a soft kiss.

He swore he could feel a little more of the accumulated tension of the last few days draining away every time she kissed him. The buzz of all the minds in the mansion were still there, but at a safe distance, almost. "Thank you," he said very softly.

"For wha'?"

#For being my sanctuary,# he sent, mostly because it was a little too sappy to say aloud, alone together in the woods or not.

There had once been a time, still new to the link, that Moira had described it as it felt like someone breathing on her neck gently. Sometimes, it still did. Shivering, not wanting him to see that her eyes had misted up just a bit, she nuzzled closer, as close as she could get. #'ow could I nay be, when yer mine?#

They laid there, staring up at the stars as the fire crackled beside them. "I'm trying to think of what poem reminds me of you," he murmured after a while.

Moira tilted her head slightly, nearly bumping her nose against his chin. "Oh?"

"I could be really boring and quote 'She walks in beauty like the night' at you..."

Smiling, she attempted to poke him again but he was too fast and managed to catch her wrist in one hand. "Tha's nay borin'," Moira responded.

Nathan thought for a moment. "'I swear, since seeing your face, the whole world is fraud and fantasy,'" he quoted softly. "'The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf or blossom. The distracted birds can't distinguish the birdseed from the snare. A house of love with no limits, a presence more beautiful than Venus or the moon, a beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart.'"

"Nay borin'," she repeated, nearly entranced by the way he said the words.

"Rumi," Nathan said, quite satisfied by the choice. "Much better than old Lord Byron."

"Tha' one is, at least," Moira said, smiling at the look he gave her. The link was fairly humming between their minds, full of the thoughts and feelings they weren't saying but both were thinking.

"I promised I'd write you more poetry, didn't I?"

"Ye did at tha'. Yer verra good at it, I never knew tha'."

"If you say so," he muttered, embarassed but in a strangely happy sort of way. "That was the first time I'd tried."

"Ye've a talent for it then." Reaching up, she traced his cheek and giggled softly. "Aww, yer blushin'..."

"Yeah, well, try not to enjoy it too much," he muttered a bit belligerently, and then grinned rather foolishly at her. "I promised public posting of the next one, didn't I?"

Moira beamed at that. "Aye, ye did. An' a promise is a promise, after all. 'Promises ta keep an' miles ta go' an' all o' that, remember?"