xp_logs | Nathan and Haroun, Wednesday night (Reply)

Haroun coaxes Nathan out to a Knicks game. Then they wind up at the same pool hall where Scott went to blow off some steam. (Yeah. I'm sure you see where this is going. These two should just not be permitted out in public together unsupervised.)

He had never thought marking would actually wind up being escapist. But if he marked history papers, he didn't have to think about anything but poor arguments, sloppy writing, and how not to be excessively sarcastic in his comments. Which was much better that thinking about anything else that was going on, Nathan reflected as he scrawled 'I'm really not following your logic' here on one particular example of sub-literate prose.

Haroun, immensely cheered up by his making-up with Alison and his apologizing to the Medstaff, knocked on Nathan's door. "Open the door, old man. I'm here to rescue you!" he called through the door.

Nathan blinked at the paper, and then looked up at the door. He'd been engrossed enough in the reading - and not in the good way - that he hadn't sensed Haroun approaching. "I'm not here," he called back tentatively after a moment, even as he reached out telekinetically, fumbling a little, and unlocked the door. "The marking ate me."

"No shit." he said with a big smile on his face. "Should I go ask Moira if Nathan can come out and play?" he taunted, leaning aginst the doorjamb with a grin on his face. "And assuming she says yes, you can go put your shoes on and get ready to go. I offer you beer and Knicks tickets." he said, reaching into a pocket and waving the basketball tickets at Nathan. "Do you a world of good to get out of the madhouse, rediscover your Y chromosome."

Nathan blinked. Okay... not what he'd expected. At all. "I don't--" Have time? Of course he had time. He wasn't sitting here marking sub-literate papers because he could actually do anything about any of the other stuff going on. "I mean, I shouldn't - " He stopped again, closed his mouth, then gave Haroun a look that combined equal parts grouchiness and bemusement. "You do bad things to my nerves."

"And your lack of testicles makes your brain soft." Haroun countered. "Come _on_, man, do you have _any idea_ what I had to do to get floor seats to the Knicks? It's a really good thing my girlfriend is a rock star, let me tell you." he smirked. "If Moira will let you stay out past nine, I know a great pool-hall that's on the way back. You do remember how to shoot pool, right?" he taunted.

"I seem to remember you still owe me--what were we playing for, class coverage the next time one of us did something stupid and wound up in the medlab, wasn't it? You owe me several of those from the last time we played pool." Nathan caught himself stowing the papers back in their folder and frowned down at his hands. Apparently they thought he should be going out. "And why are you under the impression that I need Moira's permission to go out?" he demanded a bit crankily.

"Well, gee, let's stop to think about that for a second. When she lets you out of her sight, you usually wind up on a bed in Medlab?" he said with a laugh. "More evidence that you need to get the hell out for a while - I'm trying to get you to laugh, and you're Just Not Buying It. You spend all your time in here, or curled up with Moira, or training with that pierced English girl, or beating sense into Jubilee. You need _out_, man. Tell all your little girls to just suck it up for an evening. You need to get out and live a little, and I have taken it upon myself to make sure that you do so."

Nathan got up, grimacing a little at how stiff he felt. His eyes flickered sideways to the clock on the wall and widened slightly. He'd been at it for four hours? "I should really--" What? Nathan closed his mouth, waited for his mind to provide him with some example of anything vital he could be doing just now, and sighed when it didn't. "All right," he said more quietly. Time he stopped sulking anyway, he supposed. Maybe he could find an opportunity tonight to apologize to Haroun for scaring the crap out of him about Alison's isolation room last weekend. "Meet you in the garage? I should probably go tell Moira where I'm going."

Haroun nodded. "Yes, yes, go tell She Who Must Be Obeyed that you're going out. I've already told the Rock Star that her spaceheater will be unavailable for the night. I'll meet you downstairs - but if you're not there in ten, I am going to kick your ass from one side of the Mansion to the other. And then I'm going to laugh at you. A lot."

Nathan glowered briefly at him and then went in search of Moira. He found her in her own office, of course, reviewing medical files, and was rather put off by how quickly she shooed him away. Making a quick trip up to the suite to grab a coat and so forth, he headed back down to the garage well within the ten-minute limit and found Haroun waiting.

"I suppose you want to drive," he said, seeing him standing beside one of the faster cars in the garage.

Haroun grinned. "You drive too slow, man!" he laughed. "We can take the Jeep if you want your Jesus bars to hang onto." he offered as a token. "But this night demands some _speed_."

"'Holy shit!' handles," Nathan corrected almost absently. "But no... I'm good." He opened the passenger-side door and got in. "So you sorted things out with Alison?" he asked slowly as Haroun got in and started the car.

"Yep." he said with a grin as he gunned the engine. "All better now." he added as he took the car up quickly to Ludicrous Speed. "Very much all better now." he added with a leer.

"That's good." The landscape was whizzing past at far, far too fast a rate. Haroun was going to wind up wrapping them around a tree on one of these outings, he really was. "Sometimes you need a couple of days somewhere else to clear your head, I guess."

"Pretty much." Haroun agreed. "That's why I went to London like that with Wanda. One, she's a fine-looking woman and I can't say no to fine-looking women, and two, I needed the time away to think. To look what what I had, and what I was in the danger of losing, with a more objective eye unclouded by antihistimanes or Mansion Insanity. You should really look into this idea sometime. That Moira and get out for a week or two. Go someplace warm and soak up some sun."

"What, going away?" Nathan smiled humorlessly. "Right. Well, we're going to Muir at the winter break. I think realistically we're both going to need to settle for that. Barring, you know, apocalypse between now and then..."

"If the Hordes of Hell come and the End Times are nigh, I'll make sure to tell Shai'tan that you're otherwise indisposed and to come back in a few weeks. I'm sure he'll appreciate that." he said with a laugh. "And going to Muir is a good first step. You know what I think part of the problem is? You haven't blown anything up or beaten someone into pulp out here in the Real World in weeks. I might be able to help with that - if your soft skull and scrambled brains are up for it." he said with another laugh.

Nathan's eyes flickered sideways to him defensively. "At least you didn't say 'sprained'," he muttered. "I would have had to tell you to pull the car over so we could get out and I could hit you, if you'd said that."

"You have passed through sprained and come out the other side." Haroun said piously. "And no beating the driver."

Nathan tried not to grind his teeth. "Alison would pout at me if I hit you, anyway," he said. "Or make meaningful comments about excessive amounts of testosterone, and I'm not sure what's worse."

"That would require that you _have_ some testosterone, Nathan." Haroun pointed out. "You've been running a deficit lately. But I think I can help correct that - and no, not like that. Plastic and exit-only. Got the post-game entertainment all lined up." he said with a grin.

Nathan stared out at the road. "A testosterone deficit. Now, why didn't I think of that?" He shifted in his seat restlessly. "Post-game entertainment... is this something that's going to have our respective significant others making us sleep on the couch?"

"At the _very_ least." he said with a grin as they crossed into NY proper. "But I understand that the barn is warm and cozy and has lots of mousies." he said with a laugh. "Have I mentioned how much I don't like Catseye? Kid needs to decide what she is pronto."

"She's a complicated case," Nathan said, bristling a bit. "Rushing her isn't going to help her. I know you're allergic, and she probably knows you don't like her, which are two very good reasons for a cat to torment you, you realize this..."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know, complicated case, damaged childhood, identity issues out the ya-ya. Same old song and dance." Haroun grumped. "But that's just the thing - if she's a cat, then why are we giving her a room and an education? If she's a human girl, then why do we put up with the crap she pulls? Ahh, I'm just being cranky. Ignore me." he said as he danced the car in and out of traffic.

"She's been here for what, all of two weeks?" Nathan demanded, but then bit his tongue. Hard. "Right," he muttered. "Ignoring you."

"I'll get used to having her around and installing air filtration systems and double washing my clothes in time." he conceded. "Right now, it's a giant pain in my shiny metal ass."

"At least the problems she causes are ones that are comparatively easy to deal with," Nathan pointed out, grimacing as Haroun cut it far too close passing a truck. The driver blared his horn indignantly.

Haroun cheerfully gave the driver the finger. "Comparatively, yes, I agree. Subjectively? She's a pain in my ass." he said as they finally arrived in the vicinity of the Garden. "OK, going to let valet handle parking." he muttered as he pulled the car into the line of people waiting to be valet-parked.

"If I start spacing out in there, just poke me or something," Nathan said as the line moved forward. "My shields are pretty much back to normal, but that's going to be a hell of a crowd."

"Will do. Didn't even think about that. Man, I'm sorry." Haroun said apologetically. "You up for it?" he asked worriedly.

Nathan smiled briefly. "I'll be fine," he said. "And hell, I could do worse than to absorb some happy sports-crowd vibes." He paused, then snorted softly. "This is assuming the Knicks don't get their asses kicked."

"Hey, this is New York. This is the equivalent to their Five-Minute Hate." he said with a laugh. "Knicks are playing the Wizards. No chance of losing this game." he said with a laugh. "Come on, we're next in line." he said, pulling the car forward and killing the engine.

With the car safely in the hands of the valet, they headed inside. Nathan let his breath out on a relieved sigh as the telepathic pressure of the steadily increasing crowd turned out to be tolerable after all. "I was here once before," he said to Haroun as they moved through the crowd. "Years and years ago..."

"Business or pleasure?" Haroun asked as he made his way to the concession stand. "Can't do a Knicks game without snacks." he smirked. "Tell me what you want, you can go get the seats while I order."

"Business, actually," Nathan murmured. "Though I did enjoy the hockey game beforehand..." He picked the most stereotypical-looking item on the concession stand's menu, then went off to find their seats.

"Hadn't figured you for a hot dog guy." he muttered as Nathan went off to find the seats. Eventually, he made his way down onto the floor with a cold beer, a hot dog, a bottle of water, and a hamburger. "Here ya go." Haroun said, handing the ex-mercenary the beer and the dog.

"Thanks," Nathan said and eyed the hot dog with a certain amount of interest. The beer got a half-amused, half-suspicious look, but he took it anyway. "Just determined to see me drink tonight, aren't you? Am I that funny when my whacked-out metabolism decides it can't handle alcohol anymore?"

"You need the relaxant." Haroun said sensibly, settling himself into his chair and deactivating most sensation from his lower half. "I couldn't have the regular hot dogs, and the kosher dogs here suck." he groused. "I'm very put out by that." he added, before biting into his burger.

The noise of the crowd, audible and psychic, washed over him, and Nathan was oddly soothed by the feeling of being lost in it. Not a locus for anything, not needing to react to anything. Of course, he might feel a little differently in an hour, but for now... "This was a good idea," he told Haroun, smiling faintly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." he replied simply. "Game's about to start." he pointed out at the crowd went nuts.

---

"What?" Nathan asked dryly as Haroun pulled the car into a parking spot. "You asked Scott for the address of the pool hall he found that night?"

"Sure did." he said with a grin. "Figured if it was good enough for the Fearless Leader, it's good enough for us." He stepped out of the car, waiting for Nathan to open his own door before arming the little sports car's alarm system. "According to Scott, the beer is weak, the tables bad, the cues crooked, and the bikers hostile. Just about perfect."

Nathan got out, pausing for a minute to blink as his equilibrium went a bit... odd. Haroun had pushed a second beer on him back at the game, and he was definitely feeling it. "That's why you had me drinking," he said, closing the door behind him. "So that you can actually beat me at pool for once."

"Shit, old man, I can beat you while you're stone-cold sober." he taunted. "I've been suckering you in by throwing games so that I can take you for everything you have." he said with a grin. "And I'd say that our chances of getting into a fight are approaching one."

"Ooh, goody," Nathan murmured, following Haroun into the rather disreputable-looking establishment. "And I feel like I've come home," he said. "I know a bar in Archangel'sk that looks just like this."

"We'll have to go sometime." Haroun said, then walked over to the counter to rent them a table and some cues. Inside, the smell of cigarette smoke was nearly paralytic, mixed in with the funk of leather and motor oil and other, less savory scents. A few bills changed hands, and Haroun nodded towards the rack of public cues. "Grab two. We're table twelve."

Definitely an interesting psychic atmosphere in here, Nathan thought. Very familiar feeling. The bar in Russia probably had better beer, though. "So what are we playing for this time?" he asked as Haroun came over.

"Nine ball." he said with a grin. "You're up first. I'm going to go make friends. Call me when I'm up."

Make friends. Make friends... that sounded ominous. Nathan made a monosyllabic noise in reply and turned his attention to the pool table.

The beer was definitely playing just a little bit of havoc with his depth perception, he thought grumpily a few minutes later. #You're up,# he sent grudgingly.

Haroun looked up at Nathan, and then nodded. The guy he was talking to, a big man about Nathan's size, looked irritated but said nothing. "So soon? You must be slipping." He chalked his pool cue as he studied the layout of the table."For such a big man, you're a real lightweight. At least I have an excuse." he smirked as he took his shot.

"I have an excuse," Nathan muttered, leaning back against a handy wall and watching Haroun. "Couple of million of them. Very ungrateful houseguests, I say, to mess with my alcohol tolerance..."

"Now that's just Not On." he said reproachfully. "They should let you poison yourself slowly once in a while. It's good for you." he said, sinking his first two shots perfectly, but missing his third by just a whisker. "You feel that sudden gust of gravity?" he muttered as he backed away from the table.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "If that was a question, no. Not me. Although I have been known to cheat in the past."

"If you cheated any more God Himself would have to come down and set things to rights." he said with a grin. "You cheat worse than a Marrakeshi rug merchant dealing with French tourists."

"I have a weak moral character," Nathan murmured dryly, moving forward to take a look at the table. "I would have liked to have been here the night Scott was, you know. That would have been something to see."

"In order to have a weak moral character it's required to have at least _some_ moral character." Haroun teased. "And that little redheaded number over there has been checking out your ass practically since we walked in." he pointed out. "She's not bad."

Nathan gave the redhead a brief, disinterested look. "Dom would like her," he muttered, turning his attention back to the table.

Haroun looked over at the redhead. "Maybe. I've heard stories of Domino's appetites." he said with an only slightly exaggerated shudder. "But she's not here, and you are. And here she comes. I'll give you two some private time." Haroun said with a smirk, walking over to the bar to get something to drink.

Nathan blinked at Haroun's back, then frowned, focusing on the table and trying to ignore the steady approach of the aforementioned redhead.

She didn't seem to take the hint. "Looks like you've got a good game going," she said, her voice low and amused.

"Not my best," Nathan muttered, settling on a shot and taking it. Ball met pocket very nicely.

"Maybe you need a drink?" she suggested. "Or was your friend off to get you one...?" The hand that landed on his arm nearly made him jump out of his skin, and she drew back, raising an eyebrow at him. "Jumpy," she commented idly.

Haroun returned with another beer for Nathan and a can of soda for himself. "Hey." he said to the redhead, and dropped the beer off on the side of the pool table closest to Nathan. "Who's your new friend?" he asked with a smug look.

Nathan gave Haroun a harassed look and took a healthy swallow of the beer before turning his attention back to the table.

The redhead merely smiled, a strange, intrigued smile like a cat who'd gotten a look at an interesting new toy. "Ann," she said, her eyes flickering to Haroun for a moment, then back to Nathan. "You two come here often?"

"Ann. That's a pretty name." Haroun said outrageously. "I'm Haroun, he's Nathan." he said, jerking his thumb at the now-sulky bigger man. "And not nearly often enough to suit either one of us. How about you, Ann? You come often?" he asked with a flirting smile. To Nathan, he sent a telepathic message #Ann's boyfriend is against the back wall. With any luck, we should get a nice brawl to top the evening off.#

#What,# Nathan sent back somewhat incredulously, #you want to flirt with her and goad her boyfriend into a fight? What ever happened to calling a guy's mother something nasty?# He sank another ball and took another sip of his beer.

"Regularly," Ann said to Haroun, although she was still watching Nathan. Appreciatively, no less, and Nathan tried not to grind his teeth as he lined up his next shot.

"Well that's a charming trait." Haroun said with a grin, noticing that Ann's mountain of a boyfriend was starting to take an unhealthy interest in the proceedings. "Nathan here was just telling me how much he was looking forward to finding a place where he could come and practice. Isn't that right, Nathan?" he asked sweetly.

Ball met pocket, again, and Nathan straightened, trying not to look too balefully at Haroun. "Right," he said flatly. "Because I am so very rusty and all." He picked up his beer, took another long swallow, and then set it down and eyed the very large person heading in their general direction. Got a few inches on me, even.

"You _are_. You don't practice nearly enough." he said with a smirk. "Don't you think he should practice more, Ann? Maybe you could give him a hand with that. But be gentle -he's very rusty." he said and then laughed.

Ann gave a low, throaty laugh, moving over to Nathan's side and laying another delicate hand on his arm. "You don't look rusty to me," she said approvingly.

"Ann," the very large person growled thunderously as he got into range.

"Let me guess," Nathan said flatly, but perversely didn't take a step away from Ann. "You're your own woman, and Mount Fuji over there has no say over how you spend your evenings. Only he doesn't agree with that. Which you like. This is your favorite game."

Ann grinned suddenly. "Awfully harsh," she said, not removing her hand.

"ANN!" Mount Fuji was looking very distressed now.

Haroun looked over to Fuji. "Hey, man. Leave the lady alone - she's just talking to my friend over here." he told the man-mountain. "Go bother someone else, OK?"

"Ah, but he doesn't want to bother anyone else," Nathan muttered, taking another sip of his beer. "Inadequacy issues, definitely," he rambled on. "Ann here is firmly convinced that size is what matters, and Fuji - pardon me, George, hasn't got it where it counts." Ann did remove her hand this time, blinking at Nathan, who leaned over the table, not registering her suddenly wary regard. "Which is what accounts for the extensive amount of time he spends in the gym, which allows her the time she needs to sleep with his best friend on a regular basis behind his back. Shame on you, Ann. Especially since Phillip actually has his eye on George."

Haroun just grinned. Telepathy, he was fast-discovering, was just _too_ useful. "So what about it, George? You fancy goin' up the old dirt toad with Phil?" he taunted, just to goad George into taking the first swing.

Mount Fuji blinked and turned an interesting shade of purple. Nathan eyed him as Ann stepped away, rolling his eyes. "Oh, so that's the way it is?" he asked a bit recklessly. "You led the poor bastard on, George? Gave him a taste and then blamed it on the booze? No wonder he's sleeping with your girl behind your back. What a happy little triangle the three of you have. It's almost--"

He didn't get the chance to finish saying what it was, because Fuji bellowed and charged. They landed on a table, which broke immediately under their weight, and Nathan would have sworn if he'd had enough breath left. "Shakespearian!" he wheezed furiously, slamming a fist into Fuji's ribs. "Don't interrupt me!"

Haroun leaped into the fray, knocking Ann to one side so that he could slam his fist into Mount Fuji's ribs. "He hates it when you interrupt him." he smirked and then hit George again.

"Get your own!" Nathan growled at Haroun and wound up taking another couple of hits before he managed to get out from under the man-mountain and back to his feet. Fuji- George was a little slower to get back to his feet, still cursing sulphurously. "Oh, cry me a river," Nathan said sarcastically. "Why don't you go home to your Chihuahua Roy and tell him all about how I hurt your feelings--"

"Shut UP!" George howled and threw a table at Nathan.

Haroun pouted, but backed off. "Anyone else want to come over here and cornhole George here? He's getting a little frisky." he asked the assembled multitudes, and a wiry biker provided him all the excuse he needed by throwing a beer bottle at his head - and connecting. Haroun went down in sheer surprise, his head lacerated by shattering bottle.

Nathan had dodged the table, but stopped dead in mid-swing, seeing Haroun go down. He swore and dodged George's next clumsy attack, his switch flipping from 'barfight' to 'friend down' in an instant. "Enough of this," he hissed and hammered George to the ground with a quick succession of blows. Mount Fuji went down retching, and Nathan stepped around him and went right to Haroun's side. "Idiot," he growled, leaning down to check on him.

Another beer bottle came flying at them - and froze in mid-air.

Haroun slowly got back up, touching the blood streaming from the multiple cuts on my forehead. "I'll be fine." he said irritably. "How's George doing?" he asked as he staggered to his feet. "Awlright? Which one of you fuckers threw that?" he shouted at the crowd, not realzing that Nathan had stopped a bottle in mid-flight and was holding it there.

The silence was oppressive. Nathan blinked, then noticed the bottle hanging in mid-air. Well, whoops. Rather whimsically, he sent it right back at the slack-jawed man who'd thrown it.

Haroun finally caught the moment. #Great. I wanted a bar fight, but we may get a race riot instead. Want me to call for backup, or do you think we can make it out of here in one piece?"# he thought as his body settled into a loose ready stance, ready for whatever would come.

Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again, smiling very oddly. #Watch and learn, young padawan,# he sent back dryly and wandered back to the pool table to pick up his beer. George was still sprawled on the ground, retching. "Shouldn't have had that quiche for breakfast, Fuji," Nathan quipped, then bared his teeth at Ann, who backed away, her mouth working soundlessly.

"So," he said casually, retrieving his beer. The crowd was still dead quiet. "We have magic beer bottles here. Flying every which way. What next?" Nathan leaned back against the pool table, smiling lazily. "Drinks that mix themselves?" he asked, as several different cocktails started to assemble themselves at the bar. The bartender backed away with a curse. "A pretzel conga line? Oh, speaking of dancing, who'd like to see the jukebox do the tango with the Love-o-Matic over there?"

Haroun started heading for the door, watching the crowd part before him like the Red Sea. #Come on, Nathan. Let's go.# he urged mentally. #Before one of them has a set of balls that drop and remembers that there's a lot of them and two of us.#

"But I haven't finished my beer," Nathan said, mock-mournfully, and took another sip. The cocktails finished mixing themselves and then landed in a neat little line on the bar. Nathan mentally totaled up the cost and then reached into his pocket for his wallet, removing a couple of twenties and floating them across the bar to the bartender. Just about every set of eyes in the place followed them. "You should see my coin tricks," he said amiably, taking another sip of his beer.

Haroun sighed, and then hopped up to sit on the edge of one of the pool tables. "No one leaves until he finishes his beer." Haroun told the assembled crowd. "And believe me - I've seen the coin tricks. Ever see a man riddled with dimes? Not a pretty sight."

Nathan pondered the beer in his glass - still about a third-full - and the dead, shocked silence that still reigned in the bar. "You think you're all very quiet at the moment," he murmured. "But you're not. Noisy, noisy people... and this is all terribly indiscreet of me." Another careful swallow of beer. Behind him, the chairs that had been scattered when George had tackled him righted themselves. Table was definitely a lost cause, though, and Nathan pulled a few more twenties out of his wallet, floating them over to the bartender. "For the damage."

The bartender took the bills out of the air and placed them directly into his back pocket. He didn't say a word, but he was as white as a sheet.

"Nathan? I think it's time to leave these people to their games and get moving." Haroun said with some urgency. "You have a doctor who is going to be very upset with me, and the songbird is going to screech for hours."

"Mmm. Point." Nathan drained the rest of his beer, then set the glass down on the pool table. He started towards the door, pausing at George, who was sitting up, wheezing. "George? One word for you, pal. Threesome. Give it some thought. You'll all be much happier."

He moved slowly towards the door, all of his attention focused on the usual inner whispering and the instructions he was getting now. "Not a mindwipe," he murmured. "Just blurring... you all want to forget anyway." He reached out, drawing a mental hand over the memory of him and Haroun, like smearing a freshly-done painting.

Haroun nodded. "Smartest thing I've heard in a while." he said with a relieved smile. "You drive back. I'm going to see if I can stop the bleeding here," he said, grabbing a stack of napkins from a table by the door on their way out.

"Throwing beer bottles," Nathan said drolly as they exited out into the chill of the night air. "Shame on them. What will they come up with next?"

"Note to self: Learn how to duck." he groused as he made an impromptu bandage out of the napkins and starting applying it to the cut on his head from the bottle. "Shit. I think there's glass in the wound. I'll pick it out when we get back."

"Yeah, you just lost the right to twit me about head injuries for the next few months," Nathan pointed out. They headed back towards the car, and Nathan sighed, glancing upwards at the cloudy night sky. "I shouldn't have done that," he muttered. "Most of it, at least. This isn't Archangel'sk, after all. This is New York, land of the free and home of the paranoid-about-mutants."

"Bingo." Haroun said with a wince as he dabbed at his injury. "But smearing their memories will help on that score. And you paid them for the damage, that should also help. Next time, we keep it powers-free." he said with a grin. "It was a good fight, though. I know I'm still jazzed."

"Jazzed..." Nathan muttered and then stopped dead on the sidewalk, looking hard at Haroun. "You know," he said, careful to enunciate clearly - his words were wanting to come out ever so slightly slurred. "I wish it was January."

"Why? What's in January?" he asked curiously. "And yeah, jazzed. Alive. Vital. All that stuff. Don't tell me you don't feel it too!"

"No, I don't," Nathan sighed and started walking again. To the car, to the mansion, back to what passed for a normal life these days. "And I mean last January. Although actually, the blackouts made last January not so much fun. I just..." He shrugged restlessly. "Domestication is settling uneasily on my aged shoulders."

"No shit. Hence why your humble Arab servant feels compelled to drag your mouldy ass out of the Mansion once in a while and raise some Hell." he said with a grin. "Remind you that there's a lot of good things out there that don't involve agents from the future or terrorists out to use you or Scot domesticity."

"There's been very little of number three lately. Which is a shame, because it makes one, two, and the other fun stuff you didn't mention all worth it." They reached the car and Nathan, without thinking, pulled the keys telekinetically out of Haroun's pocket. "And as for raising hell... I don't find it as entertaining as I used to. Funny how that works."

"You are breaking my heart!" Haroun said with a laugh. He let the keys go - he was going to give them to him anyway. "Seriously - if you want, I can try to find something a little safer to do on these little trips."

"Probably a good idea," Nathan said, unlocking the car and getting in. "Since I seem to revert to old habits when given the opportunity." He smiled humorlessly, starting the car. "If that had been the bar in Archangel'sk, I probably would have broken a number of Fuji's bones."

"But you didn't." he pointed out. "Take that for encouragement. It was just supposed to be a little bit of fun - get out there, watch the Knicks, go shoot some pool, maybe go beat someone's face in."

Nathan pulled away from the curb, heading out at a far more sedate pace than Haroun had set coming in. He couldn't vouch for his blood alcohol level at the moment, but better him driving than the man with the head injury. "I'm losing my sense of humor, you know," he murmured after a moment. "Already lost my sense of fun, and my sense of proportion vanishes for whole days at a time, lately..." He glanced sideways at Haroun as he stopped at the next light. "I know you were furious with me last week," he said bluntly. "And I'm sorry I gave you reason to be frightened for Alison's safety."

Haroun waved that off with his free hand. "I overreacted. I had no business getting into it with you when you had a concussion. Worried or not, it was a shitty thing to do. I apologize." he said, making a very African gesture with his hand for forgiveness. "And I'm trying to help you rediscover them. Really."

"All right," Nathan said a bit unsteadily, turning his attention back to the road. "This is going to sound odd," he went on after a moment, a bit more briskly, "but I'm just not used to coming up short so repeatedly. Setbacks used to have me charging full-steam ahead, ready to smash through walls with my head if I had to."

"Not doing that is probably safer and healthier in the long-term. And since you seem determined to want to live a long and fulfilling life, your way is probably best." Haroun said seriously. "And if you quit breaking walls with your head maybe you won't spr - injure yourself quite so much." he added with a grin.

"You're missing my point." An SUV barrelled by them at far too high a rate of speed, and Nathan glowered at it as it raced into the distance. "This is me having a mid-life crisis, I suppose. Wondering if I still have what it takes even if I don't sprain my brain - " He could be pardoned for a little venom there, he thought. " - on a regular basis."

"Shit, man, if anybody has what it takes to make it out there among them it's you!" Haroun protested. "You've got Moira and all the kids you collect to show you how. And hell, fifteen minutes in a room with a good family man and you'll know everything he knows." he added with a chuckle. "You just take it day by day, I would think. I've never really been a civilian since I was a teen, so I'm the last guy to ask about how to be one of them."

"I was a family man once," Nathan said. "Which is ironic, because I wasn't a person at the time." He shook his head a little, focusing on the road. "And I am more than a little drunk, you beer-pushing lunatic. I hope we don't get stopped. Of course, if we do, then I could do the 'These are not the droids you're looking for' trick..."

"Jedi Mind Trick." Haroun said with a grin, demonstrating the range of American cultural imperialism. "You didn't used to be such a lightweight. I hear you and Domino once drank an entire biergarden dry in Munich." he said with wide-eyed innocence.

"Pre-brain-sucking parasites, yeah. I've told you before, they screw up my metabolism, not just my brain activity. Has the lovely fringe benefit of lowering my alcohol tolerance." Nathan made the next turn very carefully. "Speaking of Domino, she called me a toothless old tiger the last time we talked. I'm not even sure I'd disagree with her." It was starting to rain. Just a little, but that promised to make the drive home interesting.

"I don't know about toothless - you did pretty well with Fuji back there. So you're not out there raising hell? Fine. Leave it to the young. You can look forward to the rest of your life - teaching, being an X-Man, helping raise those little waifs you take under your wing. All that good stuff. Leave the hot and sweaty sex, the bar brawls, the borderline alcoholism to us." he said with a smirk.

"Become resigned to being a hellraiser emeritus?" Nathan smiled faintly. "Easier said than done." The rain was beginning to come down in earnest, and he slowed a bit more. No accidents on the way back to the mansion. "I don't necessarily miss the borderline alcoholism, or the bar brawls. And I had a distinct lack of the hot and sweaty sex for a number of years there. But I miss the confidence, Haroun. Miss knowing who and what I was..." He glanced sideways at the other man wryly. "Midlife crisis. I said that already, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." he said, looking at Nathan. "You're recovering from having your _entire_ life upended. You broke the chains of oppression that bound you, and I'm not surprised at _all_ that you're finding it a little scary. That's to be expected. It takes time, man. Time and introspection. And it can't help that you have your _guests_ up there who are, I'm sure, more than willing to suggest a few different paths your life could possibly take."

"Time and introspection are in short supply around here these days," Nathan pointed out, but then smiled a little again, a bit more naturally. "But it'll be winter break soon enough, and Moira and I will be off to Muir. That place has saved my sanity often enough in the past - I imagine it'll prove up to the task of doing it again." He gave Haroun a thoughtful look. "You and Alison should come over for a few days at some point. Maybe New Year's?"

Haroun grinned. "Sounds like a fantastic time. Let me check with Alison, but I know I'd like that. Don't know if she has plans, and she's got the Muppet to worry about." he added, using the slightly derogatory nickname for Miles. "But if she can shake free, I think we'll take you up on that."

Nathan made a mental note to ask Alison himself and make it very clear that Miles was welcome, too. "You'd like Muir," he said quietly. "Although we're liable to be snowbound in January. Northern Scotland and all. Lucky we have teleporters handy, isn't it?"

Haroun shuddered. "Warning received." he said with a grin. "The power keeps me warm, but I'll pack warm clothes as well. And I fly - it takes far more work to keep me snowed in." he added. "I've heard you go on about Muir often enough - I'd like to see the place for myself."

He was actually relaxing a little. Funny how just talking about going back to Muir could do that. "You need to get a look at the place before the wedding, anyway," Nathan pointed out lightly.

"Sure." he said with a grin. "I'm looking forward to this, you old bastard, and I'm not even sure that the holidays are going to be free. If I'm wrapped up with Alison somewhere else, then we'll have to make a side-trip ourselves to go."

"Much better beer," Nathan offered, with a quick smile much closer to his usual expression. "Much better beer, much better air, a much better view..." He chuckled. "There I go again. I'll have you convinced that it's heaven on earth and then you'll be disappointed."

"I doubt that. Heaven's in Africa, didn't you realize it? Hot days, warm nights, ancient cities the color of pearl ... there's no place on Earth like Marrakesh. You ever been there?" he asked.

"Once," Nathan said, remembering. "A less than successful business trip. I nearly bled to death in one of Marrakesh's less attractive alleys, as a matter of fact." He shook his head, remembering. "I was twenty years old and on my own. No backup. I remember the stars, though."

Haroun nodded. "The stars are always vivid over Marrakesh." he said wistfully. "I miss it terribly. About as badly as you miss Muir, unless I miss my guess."

"Home is where the heart is," Nathan said, "and I seem to have lost mine in that castle when a certain redhead started throwing coins at my head and threatening me with all kinds of terrible things if I didn't snap the fuck out of it and decide to live."

Haroun nodded. "You'll do well." he reassured. "Now all I have to do is ninja my way back up to my room and get cleaned up. I hear you're the go-to guy for that, I learn at the feet of the master."

"I'll walk you up," Nathan said. "Practice the 'look-past' trick my guests have been trying to teach me lately." He looked sideways at Haroun again, the smile returning. "We're lunatics, you know," he said conversationally. "Very lucky, but still lunatics."

"Thanks, but I'll eat this one on my own. I'm a big boy now." he said with a laugh. "If we're all crazy, then there's no word to describe what the world is. And we are lucky. I'm not really sure how that worked out, but after almost having pissed it away I'm really in no mood to risk it any more than I have to."

"Ah, good," Nathan said, almost cheerfully. "Then I won't have to beat the crap out of you after all." He felt, rather than saw the look Haroun gave him. He had his eyes on the road, after all.

"Nope. Not necessary. You couldn't beat the crap out of me any more than I beat the crap out of me." he said quietly. "Damn me, but she got under my skin in the _worst_ way very quickly. First time I was here I barely even noticed her. Now? She is everything."

"Sometimes it's a question of opening your eyes," Nathan murmured. "Wanting to see the possibilities... or even just admitting them to yourself." He glanced sideways at Haroun as he stopped for a stop sign. "The two of you make an interesting pair," he said with a faint smile. "I wish you well, you know."

Haroun laughed a bitter laugh. "There are things that I just wish could be - but they can't." he said. "Thinking about them too much just means I get to spend a nice session in the Chair. But we'll get by somehow - it hasn't been a problem yet."

Nathan made a quiet, thoughtful noise. "Head still bleeding?"

"A little. Head wounds are messy, they bleed a _lot_." he said. "Bandage is keeping me from dripping blood all over the upholstery. Why?"

"Well, you know, you could always play up the war wounds." Nathan tried very hard not to grin. "Scars being attractive, after all, or so I'm told..."

Haroun groaned. "Great, just what I need. Distinguishing features. Not good in my ..." he trailed off, then rallied to finish. "In my old line of business. Gotta remember that being invisible's not the goal here anymore. Our job is to get in and get the job done."

"Here's to adjustment," Nathan said, and turned down the road to the mansion. "May we make it, before we go even crazier trying."