Hank, Rahne, Monday Evening

[x-beast.livejournal.com]

Rahne comes downstairs to get the One Dangerous Brownie she was promised, and she and Hank have a little talk. She admits to feeling lonely, and so does he.



Hank looked up, as Rahne peeked around the door of his office, and smiled at her. "Just one," he said firmly, nudging the now depleted - since he'd separated them into three shares - plate of brownies towards her a little. "They're very rich indeed.... I think at least forty-five percent solid chocolate."

"Yum," Rahne said cheerfully. She selected a brownie and shifted to her transitional form to smell it, reflecting that she should probably work on more of the intermediate forms. Though being able to decide whether to have a tail or tear up her shoes or not was a pretty good start, really. "Smells like it." She shifted back and bit in. "Thank ye very much."

"You're very welcome." He smiled at her. "Given all the help you've been to us, in the medlab and out, you certainly deserve at least one brownie." And, unlike Jamie, he knew he could rely on Rahne to work off any hyperactivity in relatively innocent ways. He didn't want to think about what Jamie might do if he got as hyped up as Nathan and Marie-Ange had been.

She chewed slowly, savoring the small bite, since after all one ought to make the most of overwhelmingly chocolatey things. Emphasis on the overwhelming. She swallowed a bit reluctantly, as it would be rude to answer with her mouth full. "I doona do *that* much," she murmured with some embarrassment.

"You were the first to offer to feed Danielle, when she came out of the box," he pointed out. "It's little things like that that make you so helpful, my dear.. you remember that people need to be fed, and shown around, and so on. Things that we, sadly, too often forget."

"Ye've had a lot to worry about just in here," Rahne said softly, after another nibble of the brownie. Small bites. Definitely. "And Danielle thought to offer to help Lorna. I'd tried that for a wee bit, once, but I didna really keep it up at all once things started getting busier... just cooked things for fun."

"Well, you don't want to overcommit," he said seriously, taking a brownie himself. "Danielle is someone Lorna can rely on. You, on the other hand, might be pulled away at any time to help here in the medlab, which Dani cannot do."

"...That's true. But I never exactly *said* anything -- it wasna formal to begin with, exactly, and I just stopped showing up gradually." Rahne sighed. "Well, Danielle *is* quite a good cook, and I suppose 'tis taken care of now." A small smile. "And I think the advanced cooking course projects might involve helping with the holiday sorts of meals and things."

"That's a good idea." Hank grinned. "I'm tempted to attend that one myself, actually... or I would be, if I had time. I'm a very, very basic cook... if you can't fry it or put it in the microwave, it's a little out of my league."

"Reverend Craig taught me the basics, and then I practised, back home. And I got here and found oatmeal lying around being ignored. Ye can do more than ye'd think with oatmeal," Rahne said seriously.

"My mother was always a big fan of oatmeal," Hank agreed, grinning a little. "All winter, every morning, she'd give he a simply enormous bowlful. Which I had to eat before I could have my bacon and eggs."

Rahne laughed. "Which I take it ye liked better? I think ye might like the oatmeal bars, though. I could even put chocolate on them."

"Anything even slightly cookie-related is fine with me." He grinned. "And I do like oatmeal all right, when I can put sugar on it, but I do much prefer bacon and eggs. Perhaps if we get any especially recalcitrant patients, I'll get you to whip up a nice sticky, grey bowl of oatmeal for their breakfasts. Teach them to complain, that would."

"I make *good* oatmeal," she said firmly. "I like it well enough plain, but 'tis more fun dressed up with fruit and honey and all."

"I'm sure you do, my dear, but could you make bad oatmeal if I asked for it especially?" He grinned. "It works so much better as a deterrent to complaints that way. If you make it all tasty, they'll want it every day."

"I *could*, but it would spoil my reputation," she said mournfully. "Of course, I suppose as long as 'twas understood I did it on purpose and only if very much provoked...."

"I assure you, it would be made known that you only produced THAT kind of oatmeal when requested to do so." He smiled reassuringly. "And, for I haven't been around to say it of late, thank you for all the help you've given us in the Medlab. It's been greatly appreciated."

Rahne smiled back. "I'm glad ye were willing to teach me in the first place."

"I was glad you were willing to be taught," he said sincerely. "There can never be too many trained pairs of hands around in a crisis. Even if all three doctors are alert and present, that's still only six hands in total, which often isn't nearly enough."

"I've noticed that a bit," she admitted. "Dr. Bartlet did insist we were all more help than hindrance, in spite of the time it took teaching us. Though I suppose Amanda might have balanced out the time all on her own, really."

"Amanda, however, is not always here," Hank said softly, reaching out to pat her shoulder gently. "We do truly need all of you, I promise you."

"Well... I imagine ye could do without, but I'm glad to be of some use. She is impressive though." And makes me wonder if I doona really believe when I pray, but that's none of her fault. Or did Amanda count as an answer to prayer even if she was calling on other gods? Some of them had turned out to exist, after all, so they must have been created too. Rahne nibbled the brownie rather pensively, which was not really the level of attention it deserved.

"You seem a little less than effervescently cheerful," Hank said gently. "Is something bothering you?" Something to do with Amanda, he guessed, given the way her little face had fallen at that last part.

Bother. "...Nothing very sensible."

"Tell me anyway," he suggested, smiling encouragingly at her. "Sometimes it helps to just talk things over with someone... and that is, after all, what I'm here for."

Well... theological quandaries were for other contexts, as she wasn't even sure what Dr. McCoy believed and would prefer to have some idea what to expect before starting to discuss one. On the other hand... he wasn't exactly involved in most of the interpersonal things she'd been dwelling on lately, so perhaps it would be all right to talk about them. "I'm nae entirely sure about it all," she began slowly. "'Twas good to be back home for a while. I wasna expecting it at all... I didna make plans to go, see, when I could have got a good price on the flights and all, nor written about it to Reverend Craig... so I was surprised that he'd done it. 'Twas a good reminder...." She trailed off.

"A good reminder of what?" he said softly. "That you miss it?" Homesickness he understood... he still felt it himself, now and then, missing the farm and how simple his life had been when he lived there.

Rahne wasn't really sure how to describe the reminders, but finally settled on, "Some of that. Some... that not everywhere is like here." A small smile. "'Tis much quieter there, for one thing. Though I understand it wasna, at Muir."

"The noisy does tend to follow some of us around." He nodded. "But I see what you mean... after the endless crises around here, peaceful and quiet must seem very inviting."

Rahne took another bite of her brownie, substantial enough to give her an excuse to chew for a while before answering. "I missed here too, in a way. Even if I'm surprised he lets me stay." A short pause. "...I miss Asgard."

Hank nodded slowly. "I'm sure you do," he said softly, wishing there was some way to help.

"I ken not everyone had a good time there," she added quickly and rather nervously. "There were awful things that went on, some of them... and those are normal... and some awful things can happen to Hrimhari's pack, too, though he does take care of them well, generally. Ye ken I spent three months in a pack of wolves and I wasna one of the ones who came back with fleas?"

Hank shuddered. "I had fleas, once," he said, remembering. "It's most unpleasant. And... you were happy there, weren't you?" he said gently. "Being part of the pack. Belonging."

She sighed a little and looked down at the table. "I was," she said softly. "In a lot of ways it doesna make much sense -- they were all much older than I was; they live longer. Entirely different experiences. I didna understand... a lot of what was going on, at all. I'd no idea what I was doing. Lost them some prey before I learned... luckily there was plenty that year."

"Every beginning hunter does, at first. I imagine they would have understood that." He reached out to pat her small shoulder gently. "And you miss them, hm? I can certainly understand that... it's not easy for you, being a wolf all alone. Wolves, I'm told, aren't generally happy when they're solitary."

"It does seem as if there ought to be someone else there when I'm stalking a deer," she admitted, "and I'm thinking I'll maybe invite Kyle to try soon... but... I'm human first. Unlike how Catseye thinks."

Hank nodded. "That's true. She's... definitely an odd one. I'm glad I had a cat when I was a boy, or I'd have no idea at all how to deal with her." He rested his elbows on the desk, looking at her seriously. "It sounds like things have been getting rather hard for you, of late," he said softly. "I'm sorry I haven't been around more..."

Rahne cast him a rather startled look. "'Tis hardly *your* fault. And there's... I've got it easy, next to most of the people here. If I'm --" Not exactly useless, and unnecessary was just a silly thing to worry about.... "a little superfluous, 'tis my own doing."

"Superfluous you most certainly are not," he said firmly. "You are a great help in the medlab, and good at picking up on the little things... such as realizing that Dani would need food, and help finding the kitchen." He smiled encouragingly at her. "Rahne, a lot of the people here... well, they have a great many troubles of their own, and tend to get absorbed in them. You think of others, and try to help them, and that is a very valuable contribution indeed."

She swallowed a small and unexplained lump of not-brownie in her throat. "Supplementary, then?" she offered. "I'm... not putting it well. There are plenty of people here who are very nice, and some I admire," in specific and sometimes very selective ways, "and some I'm very fond of, but I'm never... that close to any of them. I think I should talk to people more; I doona think I'm being that quiet or listening that little, and 'tisnae that I think people should come to me about problems -- I wouldna ken what to tell them if they did, especially that they'd listen to -- but it seems as if there's always one lurking, and whether I know what it is or not I'll say the wrong thing because of it."

Hank nodded. "Being shy doesn't make life any easier, especially with so many rampant extroverts around," he agreed. "And as for lurking problems... well, I'm with you there. I made Clarice very angry with me a little while ago, and I'm still not sure what it was that I said." He smiled ruefully. "But I think you'd be surprised how very much you'd be missed, if you went away."

"I rarely understand Clarice." Rahne shrugged. "I... suppose. Nathan said something of the sort when I got back from Asgard." When she'd ended up crying on him. And she really needed to keep to herself that fangs or claws or fur kept reminding her of Hrimhari and giving her inappropriate thoughts. And Kyle could probably tell. Erk. That wasn't good. She had colored faintly by the time she added quietly, "I wouldna care for being a mercenary, certainly, but I feel a little wistful when they call it the Pack."

"I'll bet you do." He slid out of his chair, and reached out tentatively. "If a hug would help, I have two arms, no waiting," he offered, smiling down at her. "I'm told I'm quite good at them, even."

"You would be." Of course he *would* hug Amanda too if she needed it -- which, Rahne told herself sternly, was only right, and it was stupid to think as if it were somehow a bad thing. It was also stupid to be jealous over Nathan or Lady Moira; Amanda had all sorts of bizarre problems and Rahne already had a guardian and father-figure. Actually, Nathan as a father figure was a vaguely disturbing thought for some reason. Rahne put it firmly aside and set the brownie down so she could hug Dr. McCoy without getting chocolate in his fur.

He hugged her gently, smoothing her soft hair as she rested her head against his furry chest. "You know," he said softly, "I envy Moira and Nathan... and Madelyn.... a great deal. Nathan and Moira have Amanda, and Angelo, and now a baby on the way... and Madelyn has Jubilee, who she's very close to. I do not, as yet, really have that kind of connection with any of the students." She was so little, and he felt the familiar faint, wistful sadness he always did when he held a child that wasn't his, who he'd have to give back. "So if you ever want someone to talk to, or confide in... well, I'd like that a lot."

One of his claws grazed behind her ear, and Rahne shifted without really thinking about it halfway toward wolf form, because getting scratched behind the ears was very nice that way. "...Thanks." She was a bit muffled; he had very thick fur. "I appreciate that."

He noticed the shift and smiled, scratching behind her ears just a little. "I don't have any children of my own," he said a little wistfully. "And I'm not likely to. So it's nice to be able to look after you and the other students sometimes... although I know you have a guardian of your own, I'm sure he'd let me borrow you a little bit, now and then."

"He did send me here," she pointed out with a bit of a lupine smile of her own. "He'd better be expecting somebody to look after me."

Hank laughed. "Very true. Then that's what I'll do." He ruffled her hair gently, giving her another gentle squeeze before letting go. "And I'll be here for you when you need me, from now on, I promise... or when you just want to talk about what's bothering you."

"I think it might've been harder this time if ye *hadna* been gone for a while. And I ken ye had important reasons." She looked up with a slightly more lively smile. "I talk about more interesting things sometimes," she offered. "I mean, besides oatmeal...."

"There's nothing uninteresting about oatmeal. If you make it right." Hank returned the smile. "But I'm sure you do. And I'd be delighted to hear some of it."

"Cinnamon," Rahne declared seriously, "is very important."

"Oh, absolutely. And dried fruit. Dried fruit can make all the difference," he agreed, equally seriously.

"Fresh is also good. The juices run in and make things interesting." She grinned, shifted back, and picked up her brownie again. "But for the non-oatmeal topics... should I tell ye about the feud between the Dalmatians and the Labradors? --Oh, and I promise the chocolate isna any problem with turning into a wolf. I think I came out lucky with mutation-related diet... issues."

"That's good... I hadn't even thought of it." He grinned, sitting back down and folding his hands. "And tell me all about the Dalmation-Labrador conflict, please!"

"Well, 'tis at the shelter -- same one Catseye was sent to -- they had one of each come in pregnant, and have kept them longer than they'd usually be able to because of trying to wait for the pups to be big enough to leave their mothers. Anyhow, every time the mothers see each other, they set up the most incredible racket."

Hank shook his head, grinning. "Oh, dear... mothers do get rather territorial, don't they? I do hope that doesn't affect Moira, or Madelyn and I may find ourselves thrown out of the medlab for the duration."

"They've tried keeping them separate, but ye have to take each out to exercise and bathe and so on, and there are only so many doors." Rahne shook her head. "And now the puppies have their eyes open, and they turn out to be escape artists!"

Hank settled down to listen to the convoluted internal politics of the shelter, watching her eyes brighten and her movements grow more assured as she told him all about it. It was good to see her so animated, so interested... he really had to make sure it happened more often.

Comments

[xp_daytripper]

*eeps and shuffles guiltily* Sorry for being demanding?

[x-foliate.livejournal.com]

Well. You've made Paige cry. Went and said exactly what she wanted to but with much better words.

But I'm not weepy, no. Not at all. Zero amounts o' weep.