Nathan and Moira, Friday afternoon

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After the very difficult Danger Room session, the snowfight, his and Amanda's subsequent discussion, and his afternoon classes, Nathan finally makes it back to his and Moira's suite for a long-overdue soak in a nice, hot bath. Moira ogles.


Seven hours later and he actually felt worse than he had immediately after the Danger Room session with Alison this morning. A couple of the kids this afternoon in class had actually asked him if he was all right, noticing how stiffly he was moving. Nathan had managed not to snap at them. Taking it out on the kids was Not Acceptable.

He came through the door of the suite to find Moira sitting on the couch, skimming through one of her scientific journals. "Ow," he said somewhat piteously, coming over and collapsing very carefully beside her.

Glancing up, Moira grinned at him over the edge of her book. "Ye look like ye've been hit by a truck. Wit' th' name o' Alison imprinted on it. I'd ask if'n twas a tough session but I think I 'ave me answer ta tha'."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Ye also look like ye could stand ta 'ave another shower."

"I was thinking actually I'd go drown myself in the bath. Sound like a plan?" He was feeling very sorry for himself. This was not acceptable. Nathan tried to muster the puppy-dog eyes as Moira looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Or just soak. No drowning?"

"Soak, nay drownin'. Because then I'm forced ta come in after ye an' I like my clothes nice an' dry, thank ye verra much." Reaching over, she poked him lightly in the leg with her foot. "Yer getting' old."

He grunted. "I'm coming to that conclusion, yeah. If by coming to that conclusion I mean 'getting my face rubbed in it." He made a disgusted face. "I could have gotten through that scenario with no trouble five years ago," he muttered, even though part of him proceeded to laugh its metaphorical ass off and point out he was full of shit.

"Mmm, 'couse ye could 'ave dear," Moira responded, closing her book. "Stop bein' so damned 'ard on yerself." It was a statement that was almost out of the blue and was followed by a sharp thwack to the arm with the book.

"Ow! I have enough bruises, thank you!" He rubbed his arm and glared at her reproachfully. "And I am not being hard on myself. I'm obviously not performing up to standard, so I'm a little annoyed with myself... okay, a lot," he confessed with a sigh as he got up, listening to his bones creak.

"An' yer beatin' yerself up over it." She glanced over at him. "Give it time, Nathan. Yer jus' comin' off of a large injury."

"Not a physical injury," he protested, but then blinked, pausing. "Well. I guess they're not just testing me physically, are they?" Was that the problem? He wasn't back up to snuff psionically yet, either? Damn it. Charles kept telling him how well that side of his training was going... Nathan grimaced and limped in the direction of the bathroom, muttering under his breath.

Shaking her head, Moira flipped through the journal for a few minutes. Grimacing, she tossed it on the couch and head into the bathroom. Nathan had wasted no time in dunking himself in the hot water and she took a seat on the counter top. "Finally figurin' out wha' they're doin', aye?"

"I don't know," he muttered, shifting in the bathtub. As nice as the hot water was, he had enough bruises that this wasn't really all that comfortable. The worst of them were up and down his left side - which made sense, given he'd fallen hardest that way. Damn moving floors... "I need to think about it some more. I suppose they could be throwing crazy scenarios at me trying to test my limits..." That wouldn't be all that much different from Mistra, at least. But Scott and Alison and even Ororo were always telling him they didn't use Mistra-like tactics in training, and he knew they meant it. So what the hell was going on?

Reaching behind her, Moira grabbed a washcloth and tossed it at his head. "Whatever they're doin', ye 'ave ta trust they're doin' it wit' good reason," she said, swinging her feet a little. "They'll let ye know in good time."

He caught the washcloth with a thought. "Yeah. But I hate working in the dark." Of course, then his conscience pointed out he could have asked Alison at the debriefing, but no, he'd been too busy being stubborn. "I suppose if I have to do it, I have to do it, though. I'm done with being a liability," he said stubbornly.

At that, she threw one of those little soap animals that had mysteriously wandered into their bathroom at his head.

It bounced off a TK shield and splashed into the water. "Would you quit doing that?" Nathan grumbled. "This is not me beating up on myself, Moira - it's realism. Except in very specific sorts of situations, I am a liability. For now."

"'Tis fun," she grumped back. "Well, nay matter wha' ye think, I dinnae think yer a liability. But if yer 'ell bent on tryin' ta prove yer nay, I'm nay goin' ta be able ta stop ye. Though if'n ye get injured because o' it, yer sleepin' on th' couch."

He told himself to shake it off. No aggravating the pregnant Scotswoman. Nathan mustered as charming a grin as he could as she glowered down at him. "If I wound up being banished to the couch, you'd be all cold in bed. You would."

Okay, so that was probably _true_ but still. "Hmph. Nay injuries in th' Danger Room, Nathan." Moira's stomach rumbled slightly and she blinked and then sighed. "Bloody 'ell."

"Well, you keep telling me to trust them. So let's trust they're not going to throw anything at me that's actually going to wind up getting me hurt, then?" He sat up slowly, grimacing. "When did you last eat?"

At that particular comment, she cast around for something else to throw at him but, unfortunately, she was sitting on the kitchen sink. "Half a bloody 'our ago," she said, trying not to pout.

"Clearly, Someone is telling you more food is good. Why don't you go back to your journal? I'll get out of here and make you something," Nathan said, gritting his teeth as he pulled himself upright. "Ow."

"Are ye sure yer okay?"

"Just bruised. Went and sat for too long this afternoon in class, too." He smiled reassuringly at her. "Go," he said, waving with the non-bruised arm. "Unless you want to ogle. Which is fine, only I don't look good in black and blue..."

"Nay this kind o' black an' blue. But most o' th' time..." Moira grinned at him and settled back against the mirror. Waving her hand at him, she laughed. "Nay mind me, I'll jus' ogle some."

Nathan snorted and reached for a towel. "I would strut, but I think that would hurt. What do you want to eat?"

She thought for a second, mentally poking at the growly feeling in her stomach. "Cow."

"Hrm. I don't think we have any cow up here. I suppose that means I've got to get dressed and go raid the kitchen." He grinned at her. "I don't think people would appreciate me walking around in a towel."

Giggling, Moira pouted at him. "I would appreciate it," she pointed out. "Doesnae tha' count for somethin'?"

"Love, if you told me you wanted haggis, I'd be knocking on Illyana's door and asking for a quick trip to Scotland." He gave her a very slightly woeful look. "You don't want haggis, do you?"

"I wish but I think th' bairn is firmly in th' 'cow' stage o' food cravin'. An' luckily for ye, I'm bein' nice an' nay pushing this down th' link ta ye." The look on her face suggested that he might want to stay on her good side for that.

"I'll bring us both up some cow. I think food would be a good idea - I didn't precisely eat lunch." Nathan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and frowned. "I never used to bruise this easily," he muttered.

Reaching over, Moira hooked her arms around his neck and tugged. "Ye were tanner then," she mused, grateful for the height the counter gave her. "We need ta change tha'."

"If you're suggesting I spend too much time indoors," he said with a sigh, leaning into the hug, "you'd be right." The classes, the office time, the sessions with Charles, the training... all of it was indoors, more or less. He wasn't used to that, even after months of it.

"Once th' weather gets better, we need t' go outside more. An' nay jus' for long vacations, either." Nathan gave her a look and Moira laughed. "I know, me who spends all me time in th' lab sayin' we need ta get out more."

"Fresh air is good for you," Nathan said, his lips twitching as he thought of the snowball fight. "We ought to go out for dinner this weekend, you know. Into the city for a bit, just the two of us..."

"Oohh, I like tha'. Nice, quiet evenin' out. Nay any explosions or bad guys or anythin'. Consider it a date."