xp_logs | Nathan and Sam, Nathan and Paige, Tuesday evening

Set before Madelyn's recruitment in this log. Nathan recruits Sam to fly the helicopter out to Vermont. Sam is perfectly happy to be recruited.

It took him some time to find Sam, mostly because he hadn't thought of the stables first, second, or even sixth, and no one had been precisely helpful in telling him where to look, either. Probably because he was stalking around the halls with his own personal thundercloud, but at this point that was pretty much unavoidable.

"Sam," he said crisply, spotting a blond head in one of the stalls. "I need to talk to you."

The crisp, businesslike tone of Nathan's voice caused Sam's head to immediately pop up from where he was grooming one of the horses and turn around. "Yes, sir?" he asked curiously. "What can Ah do for you, Nathan?"

"I know you fly the Blackbird," Nathan said, stopping at the stall door. "Can you pilot a helicopter? A Blackhawk, specifically?"

Dusting his hands off, Sam walked out of the stall and carefully shut it behind him. It was team-related, and he slipped fairly easily into a more businesslike frame of mind. "Ah can," he replied. "Cyclops has run me through various simulations in the Danger Room to help make sure Ah'm qualified in a fair range of craft, enough that if Ah'm not directly familiar with it, Ah can at least take a stab at fakin' it."

"Huh." Not all that reassuring, but he'd seen just how good the Danger Room simulations could be, in terms of verisimilitude. "Feel like taking a stab at flying a Blackhawk for me tomorrow night?" Nathan went on with a tight smile. "I'll understand if the answer's no, given that Scott's still missing. But Pete and I have come into some information about a Mistra conditioning facility in Vermont, and we were thinking it would be a pleasant way to spend an evening if we went in there and took the kids they're brainwashing away from them."

Sam rolled his shoulders and clenched and unclenched his fists. "Count me in, sir," he said immediately. "And Ah'm well-qualified on the Blackhawk, it's one of the first craft Cyclops got me qualified on besides the Blackbird." Plus, it would do him some good to get out and do some good. Between the events of the weekend, and looking after Alison, and his continuing low-level annoyance with Haroun, going out on a mission sounded like the perfect thing.

"Good." Nathan let his hand rest on the stall door. "The plan is not for you to come in with us - I need to be clear about that. We're looking at six kids, possibly even a couple more, and we need you to keep that helicopter ready to lift off as soon as we come out with them. My intel says that we'll only be facing light security, but I don't want to take the chance of not having a quick way out of there if we need it."

Sam nodded seriously. "Wouldn't do for the bad guys to sneak up and steal our ride home, after all." He grinned. "Besides which, Ah remember reading in one of those books you let me borrow about the value of having a strategic reserve your enemy don't know about."

"Oh, so you do absorb information," Nathan said with a faint, wry smile. "Makes you a rare bird around here, Samuel." He stepped back from the stall. "Plan is to head out late afternoon tomorrow, to be there just after dark. So far it's you, me, and Pete, but there are another couple of people I want to ask." One of whom Sam wasn't going to like finding out about, at all.

Sam nodded and smiled. "Sounds good to me, sir. Anythin' else you think Ah need to know about the mission right now?"

Nathan shook his head. "I'll stop by later tonight with the rest of the information we have and you can look it over." He paused. "Thanks, Sam," he said more quietly. "This is important. Good to have your help on it."

"Good to be helpin'," Sam replied. "Ah'll be around my room for most of the evenin', 'cept for makin' sure Al eats." He smiled. "Ah'll be expectin' you, and we'll go over the plan."

Nathan then goes to talk to Paige. He's a little sharp, she's a little unimpressed, he's a little cranky. But she's just as eager as Sam is to be in on the mission.

Sam was going to kill him. Or try, at least. That was a given. Ah, well. He walked in through the library doors, nodded at Shan at her desk, and then strode through the stacks, right to the table where Paige was sitting, poring over a large stack of books.

"Psst," he said with a very tight, wry smile as he sat down. "Bend your ear?"

"Is that one of those crazy old people sayings that I'm unfamiliar with?" Paige teased lightly, managing to continue reading as she spoke. If she noticed the strange tone of his voice she chose to ignore it.

Nathan looked around, noting that there were a number of other people in the library. Other students. #Bend your telepathic ear?# he sent very carefully, only barely brushing her thoughts. #For discretion's sake. Business, Paige.#

Paige sighed, handing him a textbook. "Fine, here's the book you wanted. But I need it in a moment, so you'll have to do your reading here," she said with an underlying layer of irritation; you didn't get between Paige and her books, everyone knew that. Pulling the pencil from behind her ear, she made markings in the margins, for all the world seeming as if she was still studying. #Consider it bent. Fire away.#

Nathan leafed through the textbook. Chemistry. All Greek to him. #I understand you're worried about Scott,# he sent, #and may not be particularly keen on leaving the mansion until he's found. But Pete and I are off to do something fairly idiotic tomorrow night and could use your help.#

#That's what we have teleporters for,# Paige replied smoothly. The trip to LA with Angelo had forced her to realize that she couldn't always be at the mansion when she wanted to be, just sitting around with a dusting of anxiety clouding everything she was doing. A small disc on the back of her watch made it possible for her to contact exactly who she needed in case of an emergency. #And you do need me to keep you out of too much trouble if nothing else.#

#Why, Paige,# Nathan sent dryly, still leafing through the textbook. #Pete and I? In trouble? You don't know us very well, do you?# He closed the textbook and pushed it aside, tiring abruptly of putting on a show. #It's a Mistra training facility,# he sent, his mental voice sharper. #In Vermont. Possibly half a dozen kids going through the first-generation conditioning - and I know you've read all about that, Paige. I have a program set up to log who accesses those files.#

Paige smiled a little to herself, turning the page. #I haven't been told to stop reading yet, so I haven't been bothering to erase the logs,# she informed him casually. Of course, breaking into the mutation files was up next, if Moira was determined to tell her they were confidential. #You know I'm there. I expect I'm broadcasting at an obscene level at the moment.#

Nathan reminded himself that he really didn't have either the time or luxury to snap at Paige. #The plan isn't for you to go into the safehouse,# he sent. #Pete and I will be doing that. We need you on tactical reserve with the helicopter--I've arranged for our own transport, since we can't take the Blackbird. All goes well, we should be coming out of there with half a dozen probably very traumatized mutant kids. You're good under pressure, and you have fairly sturdy husks available to you.#

#Thank you,# she offered duly in return. She knew he was under stress, especially now, but she didn't deserve his lack of humour. Paige would save her uncanny ability to change her mood at the flip of a switch for later. #I suppose I should have phrased that better. When are we leaving?#

Oh, she'd just had to say that, hadn't she? He was not going to feel guilty. The moment he started letting himself feel anything but absolutely focused on what needed to be done, he was going to start screaming. Or blow up something that was really better left un-exploded. #Tomorrow late afternoon, so that we'll touch down in Vermont just after dark. Your brother's going to fly the helicopter, so it'll be you, me, Pete and him, and possibly Madelyn if I can convince her to come along.# He started to push the chair back. #Check with Pete in the morning. I know you don't have your leathers yet anyway, but I don't want either you or Sam wearing anything that ties you to the X-Men, just in case.#

Paige raised her eyes, staring at him quietly as she pushed him forcefully out of her head. It wasn't with particular skill, she was a metamorph after all, but it got the point across. Who knew dating Jono would come so in handy? Nathan might be the first one to make her not overly fond of the telepathic mutation. "Yes, sir," she spoke aloud, before ducking slightly and going back to her work. She would add something about trying to force some sleep, or even something playful, thankful, anything, but she doubted that was the sort of thing you said to whatever role he was playing right now. Paige understood roles much too well, but that didn't mean she had to like being alienated.

Nathan gritted his teeth at the shove from Paige. He could have reestablished contact, but even the thought of forcing it on her when she wanted him out, for whatever reason, was enough to make his stomach twist. Hello, Mr. Phobia. See you're still alive and kicking. He stood up. "Don't do that when we're out there," he said under his breath, a bit raggedly. "If they tap into our coms I might need to go to telepathy to keep us all in touch."

"Out there I will deal if you go poking around where you don't belong. Here I don't have to," she whispered back, covering the noise with a shuffling of her papers. Beaming up at him with an uncanny resemblance to her actual smile she said in full voice. "Glad you found what you came for. Keep up a track record and get some sleep tonight, huh? You're finally getting rid of those bags under your eyes." Paige poked him playfully in the leg with the erasing end of her pencil, the slight twitch in her eyebrow the only indication that there might be a hidden meaning in those words.

There was more he could have said to her. More he probably needed to say to her, but he'd have to leave it for Pete. Should probably leave it for Pete anyway. Pete and his wonderful, wonderful objectivity about this whole miserable situation... he needed to go fall apart somewhere. Just for a few minutes. He summoned up a good facsimile of his own natural smile for Paige. "Sleep," he agreed, his voice only a tad strained. "Going to need it. I'll see you later, Paige."

With a quick flip of the wrist, Paige shifted her pencil to the webbing between her fingers, letting the tips of them brush against the back of his knee as he walked away. It wasn't much, she didn't have a great deal to spare, but there was some sympathy in that touch, some understanding, and a pinch of regret. As if nothing had happened, Paige twirled her pencil around in her fingers, chewing on her lip thoughtfully as she went back to her studying.