xp_logs | Hank and Nathan, Thursday morning (Reply)

Hank encounters a very cranky, pre-coffee Nathan, and is premeditatedly cheerful at him. Eventually, he finds out exactly why Nathan is so annoyed at him. (Backdated to Jan 6, because it was lost for a little while)

Hank ambled into the kitchen, humming a little tune. Life was good, all told. All his people were here and safe (they might not know it, but they were all HIS people. And Maddie's and Moira's. When you treated something, it was yours forever, and that included people), and he was in search of his third cup of coffee. The first usually never touched the sides, and the second just took the edge off, but the third... ah, the third. The third could be savoured. (bit more)

And... there was no coffee. Drat. Still, from the intent expression on Nate's face, there was going to be soon. "Good morning!" he said cheerfully, going over to the sink to rinse out his special Big Mug with a handle big enough for his fingers to go through. "No coffee yet?"

Nathan, standing over by the coffeemaker, spared a moment to be glad that his telepathy was operating like a good mutant ability this morning, because his peripheral vision was still AWOL and Hank would have startled the hell out of him if he hadn't sensed him coming.

"None yet," he said a bit curtly, glaring at the coffeemaker. Percolate, he willed it. Percolate so I can get away from the cheery blue person.

"I suspect that it knows when we're watching it," Hank said seriously. "If I pretend I don't see it and do other things, I think it definitely goes through a little quicker." He looked closely at the coffeemaker. "I haven't been able to find any visual-type sensors on it, but you never know." Hm. Nathan seemed a little cranky this morning. Not that that was unusual.

Oh, good. Now the cheery blue person was making silly little jokes. Next thing, he'd be flirting with Moira.

Wait. He did that every day.

"A watched pot never percolates," Nathan muttered, not looking at Hank.

Hank blinked and looked at him. "Nathan, you're never a ray of sunshine in the morning, but you seem a little moodier than usual today. Are you feeling unwell? Are your eyes bothering you?" One of the problems with being a doctor at the Mansion tended to be having to hunt down patients and club them into submission before you could treat them. Although this particular one was Moira's problem, generally.

Nathan finally made eye contact - hah, what a pun - with Hank, if grudgingly. "My eyes are bothering me," he said bluntly, "my head is bothering me, and life is pissing me off in general. How are you?"

"Almost properly caffienated, and actually quite cheerful... I hadn't realized how much I missed the place." Hank gave him a concerned look. "Should I contact Moira? Let her know that you're having trouble again? Perhaps I should."

"She knows." Uppity blue person, Nathan grumbled to himself. As if he was going to screw around with his health, given the pregnant fiancee, and the fact that the pregnant fiancee would kill him if he did. "I may have jumped back into training a little too soon. What can I say? I don't like being useless."

"None of us do. We wouldn't be in this line of work if we did." Hank gave him a thoughtful look. "And... forgive me, but have I done something to annoy you? Too cheerful before coffee? Ate the last pop-tart?" He couldn't think of anything offhand, but Nathan was definitely being a little snippy.

Nathan tried not to grind his teeth. Say something and sound petulant? Say nothing and have Hank persist? Because if there was one thing Hank was, it was persistent. Why was he always getting into these no-win scenarios?

Ah-hah. Option three. Distraction. "I'm just cranky," Nathan murmured, his eyes narrowing and hardening for a moment before he turned back to the coffeemaker. "There are these people walking around who need to be dead and I can't do it. As in, probably literally couldn't do it, even without Charles and his little 'murder is bad' thing."

"Yes, well, if they should, say, happen to accidentally fall off a building, a blind eye could be turned to your failure to rescue them," Hank said a little grimly. Doctor or not, he had decided that that 'do no harm' oath stopped right where someone laid their hands on a student. Or anyone else smaller than Hank himself. "Still, life isn't all bad," he added cheerfully. "You have a lovely, intelligent fiancee and a little one on the way, both very good things."

"Oh, very good things. Until the next crisis hits and I can't do a damned thing to protect them." With his luck, it would be Mistra next time. Nathan turned away to retrieve a mug, his jaw clenched.

Hank blinked. "Just because something might go wrong is no reason to not appreciate the good things in life," he said a little reproachfully. "You are very fortunate to have such a courageous, charming-"

Knock it off!" Nathan snapped at him, flushing. "I am fully aware of the fact that I'm obscenely lucky to have her and that she probably deserves better - or at least deserves her intellectual equal." He slammed the cup down on the counter. "Between you and Strange and Pym..." Okay, so it was rather unfair to class Hank and Stephen with that bastard Pym, especially since Stephen didn't actually flirt, but...

Hank... blinked. And blinked again. "Ohhhh..." he said, realizing rather belatedly the cause of the trouble. "I do apologize, my friend, I had no notion that my occasional flirtatious comments to Moira would bother you."

Nathan flushed a deeper red. Damn it. He looked away, checking the cup to see if he'd damaged it. "You don't have anything to apologize for," he muttered. A little chip. Nothing serious. "I know you're not being serious about it. I just really do not need to be told how fortunate I am, all right? I know that."

"Still, I am sorry," Hank said gently. "I fear that it never occurred to me that it might bother anyone. I do attempt to charm all the ladies hereabouts, young and... well, not old, but less young, to the best of my ability, to cheer them and assure them that they are appreciated, but I am never taken the slightest bit seriously." And that had come out just a little more bitter than he'd intended it to... he genuinely enjoyed playing the amiable, flirtatious, unthreatening friend, but it did hurt sometimes to know that it was wildly unlikely that any woman would want to get involved with him now. "Still. I envy your good fortune."

Nathan looked up at Hank, some of his own frustration receding as his over-sharp telepathy picked up a few very telling stray thoughts. "You know," he said after a moment, more calmly, "I once overheard my first wife talking to one of her fellow instructors back at Mistra. This was before we were married, although she was quite obviously keeping company with me at the time."

He trailed off for a moment, staring at the still-percolating coffemaker. "This other instructor asked her what she was thinking," he murmured, "getting involved with me. I remember his exact words, too. 'They're no better than animals, Aliya. Anything human in them has been destroyed by the conditioning or trained out.'"

"But you did not wreak your... apparent bestiality... upon yourself," Hank said quietly. "I did. And I have no-one but myself to blame for its results."

"You're missing my point, Hank," Nathan said with a very faint smile. "What is, is. And there are people out there who will look past both the surface beast and the inner beast, if you let them." He shrugged a little, reaching out for the coffeepot as the little red light went off finally. "But convincing yourself that they don't exist will just result in missing them when they pass you by."

"Perhaps." Hank nodded, and smiled wryly. "I think it highly unlikely, but I'll keep a weather eye out all the same. And in the meantime, I will not flirt with Moira if it bothers you..." He grinned a little. "It is, in any case, YOUR duty to make sure she is complimented on both beauty and intelligence at least once every day, or so I understand. I'd be happy to do the job for you, but if you prefer to handle it yourself, by all means."

Nathan couldn't help but crack a smile. "I think I can handle constantly deluging her with the fact that she's the light of my life, Henry. Psi-links are occasionally good for some things."

"Well, good. And you may explain to her why she's not being showered with attention anymore." Hank returned the smile. "Still, I suppose I can restrict myself to every female in the mansion except Moira... the deprivation will be difficult, but I'm ever so brave that way."

Nathan sighed, pouring coffee into his cup. "Look, I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm sorry. It's not been the best January imaginable thus far."

"I know." Hank sighed. "But on the up side, there hasn't been an outbreak of cholera as yet. Or typhoid." And he tried very hard not to think about the classified work he'd been doing, which had featured a strain of cholera that had gotten into a mutant... and promptly mutated itself.

He was hearing much, much more than he should be, Nathan reflected, frowning a little as he sipped at his coffee. Maybe he and Charles needed to think about stepping up the sessions to three times a week. He wasn't sure he liked having stronger telepathy, even if it was still fading in and out occasionally.

"My virus has been behaving itself," he offered, for lack of anything better to say.

"Good." Hank took his own turn at the coffee, pouring about half the remainder into his Big Mug. "Ah. That's the stuff." He reached for the sugar jar. "All in all, things could be much worse," he said cheerfully. "Must look on the bright side, you know."

"I think I feel my basic civility returning," Nathan said after another few sips of coffee. "Funny how caffeine has that effect."

"Oh, yes indeed. Madelyn is positively dangerous before she gets hers. It's rather adorable, but don't tell her I said so." Hank grinned. "I fear I tend towards feeble whimpering and wandering around sadly clutching a cup, hoping someone finds me and takes me to the coffee, myself."

"Practicing the puppy-dog stare, hmm? There are worse tactics." Nathan topped off his cup.

"Pointing to my cup and looking pitiful works astoundingly well, generally." Hank chuckled a little. "Unless, of course, I encounter one of the more... prankishly inclined students. Then... well, I never know quite what'll wind up in there."

"Hey, if you give Jamie or Doug an opening, you deserve what you get," Nathan said with a chuckle. "Anyway. Classes to prepare for - I'm a little behind thanks to our overly exciting New Year's."

"Indeed." Hank nodded, saluting him with his mug. "I should probably make a start myself... ugh. Organization. Terrible thing to inflict on a man."