xp_logs | Nathan and Moira, Monday night

When Moira finally reemerges from the medlab and heads back to her room, she finds Nathan waiting for her. Nathan gives something away by removing his shirt, and winds up explaining precisely what kind of deal he and MacInnis made. Moira is less than impressed, although he manages to explain the logic of it. He also tells her what MacInnis revealed to him about his last trip to Mistra. Then Junior weighs in. Yes, really.

With a groan, Moira shut the door behind her a little harder than she had intended. The day had been stressful--early morning flight only to land in admist a sea of chaos and worry. Taking care to not work herself _too_ hard, it had still been a very long day. And she ached at seeing Henry like that--not only the obvious problems but Moira knew how it _had_ to be eating at him. Sighing, she dumped the lab coat on a chair and headed into the bedroom, only to spot Nathan sprawled in the middle of it, staring up at the ceiling. "Ye comfy?" she asked, nudging off her shoes.

Nathan smiled a bit and shifted over. "Considering I was sleeping on an old cot for the last week, yeah... it's good to be back in our own bed." He sat up, shifting back so that he could lean against the pillows, and watched her. "How's Hank?"

"Worried, scared--so am I." Not joining him immediately, she started to change, needing to be out of the clothes she'd been running around in all day. "Swear, if I wasnae so tired I would take a shower," she said, voice slightly muffled as she switched her shirt for a t-shirt to sleep in. "Maddie an' I are workin' on it but 'tis wha' she feared, 'tis attackin' 'is intelligence rather quickly."

"You'll get to the bottom of it," Nathan said quietly as she finished changing and came back to the bed. "The two of you, one way or the other..." He got up, driven by the vague realization that he probably needed to change, too. Sleep would be a good idea. "Lots of stuff happened this week," he said softly, moving restlessly across the room. "Always worry about that, you know. What happens when I turn my back and leave the people I care about, even for a few days... Jack says it's not an unusual response to trauma for stubborn people."

Nodding in agreement, Moira stopped on her way to the bed to give him a quick kiss as he started to hunt for clothes. "Aye, makes sense. A lot o' sense." Tossing the covers back, she snuggled under them and got comfortable, letting her mind wander for a second as she watched him change. "I'm sure we will. 'Tis jus' 'its 'arder when 'tis someone ye care about." Like the times with Nathan and then with Cain. Oh so very hard.

"Always is," Nathan said with a sigh, pulling his shirt over his head. "All of the choices get so much more complicated when emotions come into the picture..."

"Wha' th' bloody 'ell?" she squeaked, sitting up. A doctor knew what IV marks looked like. And they were even more noticeable to a doctor who had known what kind of marks the person had had before. Quicker than probably Nathan excepted, she'd managed to scoot to the end of the bed and grab for his arm.

Nathan tried to dodge, but for a tired, pregnant woman, she moved awfully fast, and he wasn't at his best either. "I can explain," he said, wincing at the shocked, worried look she gave him. "It's not... I was fully conscious and aware of what I was doing?"

"Aware o' wha'?" Moira demanded, glaring up at him. Oh, this was not a good position to be in but she told her aching body to shut up.

He took her hand, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. "That deal I mentioned," he said wearily. "The Askani helped MacInnis' telepaths and empaths... refine the Trojan Horse."

"Wha'?" She stared at him in horror, still clutching his arm though not as tightly. The bruising from the IV looked like it was still sore. "Ye mean th' one tha' was pretty much meant ta kill ye as well?" she snapped.

"The one that didn't," Nathan said very quietly, meeting her eyes unwaveringly. "Askani's version. The one that saved Tim, and probably cracked the conditioning of eleven other operatives as well."

Her jaw was clenched so tightly that Nathan could probably hear it creak. #Why dinnae ye say anythin!# Moira continued mentally, too angry to actually _say_ the words. Too scared as well. #Last night, when ye got ta Muir? If'n ye were tryin' ta protect me in me 'fragile state', so 'elp me God, I'll punch yer bloody lights out meself.#

#I was not trying to protect you,# he sent back, a little more forcefully than he'd intended. #Moira, I took every possible precaution I could. There were Askani sitting in the minds of all of MacInnis' telepaths and empaths, and if they had put so much as a foot wrong there would have been brains leaking out ears, believe me. Askani was very clear on that.#

#Then why th' 'ell dinnae ye _say_ anythin'?# was the snarled mental response. A part of her, very small, was saying that perhaps it was time to stop the hormones from talking but that quickly went away. Taking her hand off his arm, she glared at him.

"Because your mind was occupied with Hank, and all the arrangments you had to make before you left," he said very calmly. "Then you had to get right to the medlab once we got here. I was going to tell you tonight." He deliberately opened up the link as wide as it would go, to prove to her that yes, he'd been planning to do that, and he wasn't just saying that. "I forgot about the bruises," he said a bit wryly. "And how sharp your eyes are."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Moira glowered but it was hard to keep that anger alive when it was obvious that she had jumped the gun. Even before the baby, she'd always hated admitting when she was wrong. "Bloody right me eyes are sharp," she grumped, struggling to hang onto that irritated mood.

He smiled a bit, but it faded again almost immediately. "I won't say I enjoyed it," he said very softly, "but it was worth it. It's conscious now, Moira, and I can take an operative's conditioning down with one shot, without spraining my brain like the last time. They're not sure yet how it'll work with more than one target. Askani's going to keep studying it, and we're both going to talk to Charles."

Okay, there was talking to Charles involved. Charles involved with anything was a good sign. "Charles will probably nay be 100% 'appy wit' ye," she hazard, seeking some solace in that. A reprimand from Charles was like having a disapproving father. Which was MUCH worse than being angry. "But I'm glad yer involving 'im."

"I didn't tell you what the other side of the deal was," Nathan pointed out, the faint smile coming back. No, he was not particularly looking forward to the talk with Charles. "In return for that, MacInnis is giving Tim joint operational control." He took a deep, slightly unsteady breath. "That would have been worth a lot more than the price I paid for it."

Moira's head whipped around, eyes widening. "'e allowed tha'?" she breathed, stunned. "Without any other deal 'avin' ta be made?"

Nathan nodded. "I think.... the fact that I was willing to let them mess around with the Trojan Horse proved something to him," he said after a moment. "That I'm not running anymore? Or that I'm as committed to bringing Mistra down as he is..." He trailed off. "He expected me to say no, when he asked me if his telepaths could take a look at the Trojan Horse."

"O' course 'e did," she said, softly. "After th' fight ye put up wit' 'im before, 'e must 'ave been shocked when ye agreed ta it." Good, give that old bastard a heart attack. He deserved one. No, not bitter at all.

"It didn't take very long," Nathan said, his eyes gone distant. "They didn't even have to give me the full cocktail of drugs to do what they did... just the scopolamine and the dilantin."

Good, nothing that would mess too horribly with his body or with the virus, Moira noted mentally. "'ow lon' did it take this time?"

"An hour or two. Tim was right there in the room playing guard dog while the drugs wore off, too." Nathan chuckled faintly. "He wasn't happy with me doing that."

She snorted. "I wonder why."

"It was worth it." Nathan took a deep breath. "I'm not letting him run the show anymore, Moira," he said. "Or at least there's mutual using going on now. I'm not his pawn anymore."

"Good." Deciding that it was far too much energy to try and stay mad, Moira scooted up under his arm and snuggled into his side, sending a silent apology down the link. "'e needs ta know tha' 'e's nay th' only one involved in runnin' th' shots."

"Securing Tim's position at the same time... it was a worthwhile week." Nathan stared down at the floor, though, remembering that conversation with MacInnis, in the middle of the night... "He told me a few things I didn't know, too. MacInnis, I mean."

"'bout wha'?"

"When I went back to Mistra, after Aliya and Tyler were killed, to destroy the old home facility..." He trailed off, giving a harsh sigh. "I knew I had to have killed a number of people that day. But apparently the training barracks weren't evacuated before the rest of them pulled out."

Eyes widening, Moira curled up even tighter against Nathan. "Oh love, I'm so sorry." She knew that, even then, he would never have wanted that to happen. Ever.

"I don't even remember them. That last crop of trainees... I had so much to do that last year, I didn't even meet them..." Nathan bit his lip, then shook his head. "I'm glad he told me. I needed to know."

"Even if 'e was probably a bastard o' 'ow 'e told ye." She paused and grimaced. "I'm bitter. I need ta stop."

Nathan rubbed her back. "He was," he admitted. "But I coped." He smiled, a bit more steadily. "I'm not as easy to send spinning off into the depths of depression and self-loathing as I used to be. Amazing what a year of you can do for a man."

Moira let that sink in and stared at him. "'as it been a year already?" she asked, looking surprised. "Since I went an' dragged yer ass back 'ere wit' me?"

"On Wednesday. Well... tomorrow, if we're counting from when you knocked on my door in Lichtenstein." He shrugged a little, the smile still playing on his lips. "Didn't even occur to me, but the six-month anniversary of what happened in August passed me by last week, too."

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she smiled at him. "Doesnae feel like a year since I drugged ye," she said cheerfully. "'Tis gone by so verra fast, 'asnae it? In good ways an' in bad."

"The first of many, I hope," he said very quietly, reaching up with his free hand to brush a stray lock of hair back out of her eyes. "I fully intend to grow old with you, Moira MacTaggart. That's the plan."

"Older," she teased, before stretching up to kiss him properly. After a few seconds, she pulled away and smiled at him. "Till we're old an' gray, aye?" Now would probably not be the best time to bring up the fact that they still needed to do wedding plans.

"Old and gray, and poking each other with our canes while we're sitting in matched rocking chairs."

"Wit' our child, or children..." MOira couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face, "...mock us from nearbye."

"Children," Nathan muttered a bit quizzically, then blinked and placed a hand lightly on her abdomen. #Listen,# he told her, opening up the link so that she could feel the sudden, bright flutter of presence.

A shiver ran through her as the link opened up to envelope the baby in her stomach. No words, too young for that, but there was a presence in her mind. Warm, soft, comfortable.

Nathan smiled. "Junior can sense us," he said.

"Yer goin' ta be so bonded wit' 'im or 'er," she said, smiling brightly.

"Which can only be a good thing, if the little prodigy is going to insist on being psionically gifted in the womb," Nathan pointed out.

Moira gave him a sharp look. "Do ye think tha's possible?" she asked, voice tight as she obviously started to remember how the last pregnancy had gone.

Nathan gave her a very level look. "If it is," he said, stressing the if, "keep in mind we're living in the house of the most powerful telepath in the world. And I strongly suspect that Charles would move heaven and earth to be able to teach a baby psi properly, from day one. He's certainly mentioned often enough to me just how much the nature of adolescent manifestation messes with psis."

"I know." There was still worry in her voice as her hands moved down to her not-as-flat stomach, almost protectively. "There willnae be anyway ta check or tell until th' wee one's further alon' in term. Probably sixth or seventh mont's alon'."

He laid his hand over hers. "It will be all right," he said quietly. "When Angie and I were... we saw more than I said. It will be all right."

She gave him a Look. "I'll take yer word on it," she said. "But I dinnae want ta know wha' ye saw."

"You'll notice I haven't said anything specific," he said with a faint, teasing smile. "I know perfectly well that there are some things you want to be surprised about."

Moira stuck her tongue out at him. "Can ye blame me?"

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Not for an instant."