xp_logs | Nathan and Moira, JFK, Sunday night

At the airport, Nathan and Moira kill time before her flight. This involves discussions of what she's going to do when she gets to Muir, whether she'll be all right being back there so soon after what happened at New Year's, and large amounts of shameless flirting.

"Damn me for taking on six fucking classes this term," Nathan muttered, leaning across the little table and stealing one of Moira's french fries. "And is this a craving?" he asked, the buzz of the fast food place - the only spot they'd been able to find a table outside security - a highly annoying accompaniment to the aggravating realization that this was the last time he was going to see her for days. "I didn't think you liked greasy stuff."

"Did ye see anythin' else 'ere ta eat?" Moira asked, tucking into her hamburger. "Well, tha' we could one, get inta. Or two, stand th' food? Nay a cravin' jus' a need ta eat somethin' other than stupid airline food. An' I thought ye werenae 'ungry."

"I'm not. I'm just stealing a french fry." Nathan looked up at her, smiling a little wistfully. "I wish I could come with you."

"I wish ye could ta." Reaching across the table, she grabbed his hand. "But ye've got a fuller schedule than I do. An' accordin' ta Sue, th' place is fallin' apart left an' right. Rory hasnae shown up at all." She frowned, deeply. "I'm callin' a few people, tryin' ta get someone in ta replace 'im but--tha's nearly twenty years by my side, gone."

"Charles is still looking for him?" She nodded, and he sighed. "I understand that you've got to go. I do. I just... you are going to be okay?" He couldn't keep the plea for reassurance out of his eyes. "Being back there so soon on your own?"

"I'll be fine. Besides, Anna is comin' out wit' me." Her dear, sweet cousin had let her know that there were no if's, and's or but's about the entire thing.

Nathan ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "Thank goodness for Anna," he said quietly, smiling. "Will you stay there, or at the castle?"

"Th' castle, 'tis ta much trouble gettin' back an' fort' durin' th' winter." Moira caught his look and sighed. "We'll be fine. Uncle is seein' us over there because they're still doin' work on th' pub."

"The two of you will do something fun, right?" Nathan asked with a slight smile. "While you're there. Good times to fill up those brief moments between work."

She grinned and nodded. "Aye, we're goin' ta 'ave a few nights relaxin', tha' I can promise ye. She's been threatenin' me wit' a sleep over for years. I guess she's thrilled ta 'ave 'er chance."

"The two of you, giggling like schoolgirls... I can see it," Nathan murmured, his smile growing. And he could. Very clearly, actually. "Watch the ice cream consumption, though. Sugar highs and you are a bad combination..."

"Who, me?"

"You." She was smiling at him, a sparkle in her eyes he hadn't seen nearly enough of so far this month. "You're doing it again," he said conversationally. She raised an eyebrow. "Glowing."

"I am nay!"

"You are." Nathan grinned. "I need sunglasses. Where are my sunglasses?" He made a show of reaching into his jacket pocket with his free hand, and she laughed at him.

Feeling around, Moira kicked him gently in the knee as she laughed. "I am nay glowin'. Grown women scientists do nay glow!"

"You're the queen of denial," Nathan said solemnly, then grinned again. "I love you. I've said this already this morning, yes?"

"Mmm, aye. But I never tire of 'earin' it. Love ye ta."

He leaned a little further over the table, tugging her hand up to his lips and kissing it lightly. "I'm going to pester you terribly. Email. Phone calls."

"Be my guest, please." Moira turned her hand and cupped his cheek. "Keep out o' trouble?"

"I'll do my best," Nathan said, his lips twitching. "All I can promise, love. You know me."

"I know." She sighed. "'Tis why I forgive ye so bloody easily when somethin' does 'appen. After I've finished yellin' at ye, o' course." Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek.

"Be honest," he chided her teasingly as she leaned back. "If I was mild-mannered and never stuck my neck out, you wouldn't love me as much."

"Yer probably right. I'd love ye less if'n ye stopped wearin' black, though."

"You like the new jacket?" Nathan asked with a sudden, mischievous grin. "I miss my old 'I am here to intimidate you' wardrobe. So I figured a little black leather was in order."

"Mmm." Moira sighed and pouted. "Verra nice on ye an' I'm goin' ta miss ye when I'm gone. There's nay anyone good lookin' on Muir."

"Oh, so you just keep me around for scenery? I see it now," Nathan accused her cheerfully.

"Well, ye _are_ verra nice ta look at. Verra nice. 'ave I mentioned tha' yer drop dead sexy in black lately?"

She was ogling. It was adorable. "We're in public," Nathan murmured wickedly, "or I'd..." He conveyed what he would have liked to do over the link.

Moira suddenly went bright red--and some wasn't from the embarrassement. "Ach, evil man," she grumped, blinking even though the image wouldn't leave her mind. "Damn ye, I 'ave a plane ta get on in a few minutes!"

"Shall I leave the thought in your mind?" Nathan asked innocently, with a double-meaning the people around him, not knowing he was a telepath, wouldn't catch. "So when you fall asleep on the plane..." He trailed off suggestively.

She kicked him, sharply, in the kneecap. "I will 'urt ye so verra badly."

"Violent, again," Nathan said cheerfully. "Must be the hormones."

"Sweetheart? I was this violent BEFORE th' baby, remember?"

"Ah, right. I seem to remember you pushing me into a freezing lake," Nathan said very wisely.

"Ye. Started. It."

"Hey, was I complaining? It all turned out very well in the end."

"Wouldnae want it any other way."