Hank, Moira, Tuesday evening

[x-beast.livejournal.com]

Hank and Moira talk.... about Jono, about Amanda, and finally about Madelyn and Moira's wedding plans. Hank makes a very well-received suggestion about a wedding-theme.



Hank eyed the machine thoughtfully. It was as done as it was going to get, and there wasn't a lot of testing they could do beforehand, since there weren't any other manifestations of pure psionic energy floating around... but the Professor had checked it out, and agreed that it was safe to use, and wouldn't accidentally suck him down inside it or something. Right.

The device - which he hadn't named yet - was based on a portion of Cerebro's workings. Specifically, the part where Cerebro drew power from the Professor to start itself, then fed it back. This much smaller device should draw power from Jono in the same way, but instead of feeding it back should contain it. This would, if it worked, siphon off enough power that he could reform his corporeal body.

He picked it up - it was only a couple of feet square, and one high - and headed for Moira's office. "Oh pearl of scottish wisdom?" he called, peeking around the door. "I've been jolly clever again, would you like to see?"

Peering up from a stack of papers--test results from the latest open powers class--Moira smiled at him. "Come ta shock an' amaze me?" she asked, setting everything aside as he put...whatever he was carring down on her desk. "It looks like a bread box." But from the way he was beaming and nearly vibrating in place suggested that it had to do with something a little more important than bread.

"This," Hank said proudly, "is the finished version of the powers-draining machine for Jono... remember I suggested it, a while back, while you were gone? I'd started it before I got sick, and Forge did some work on it while I was lurking in my room. I'm fairly sure it was him, anyway. He's the only one with standing permission to tinker." He patted the machine. "This, if it works, should help us get his power levels back down to normal so he can get to work on reforming his body." He paused, an idea having come to him, and grinned. "And I shall call it.... the PsiSuck 2000!"

"Ye are nay callin' it tha'!" she protested, snickering under her breath just a little. "Interestin'. I do remember tha'--technical thin's like this are simply out o' me league. Need any o' me input for th' mutant side o' thin's?" Standing up, she looked it over. Okay, so it looked like a shiny, blinking bread box but, hey, whatever worked in the end.

"If you'd run over my calculations for me, I'd appreciate it... the ones involving how much power to drain off, and how fast, and so on. I intend to start very, very slowly, but it's still good to have someone else look these things over." He flipped open a panel in the shiny steel cover - given the amount of fur he could shed, he'd learned long ago to seal up any thing important in a case - and pointed to a glowing blue light just above a round, flat pad that looked like - and had started out life as - the underside of one of the stick-on sensors from the Medlab. "He's supposed to come into contact with this, to make it work - that way he can stop the process just by moving away, if he needs to."

"Nay a problem, would love ta. Good plan, tha'." Moira pointed to where he was showing her. "Ye give Jono th' control, nay th' machine or us. Brilliant, really. Especially given his general outlook. Puttin' th' control in 'is 'ands is always a good sign."

Hank nodded. "And it means that even if something does go wrong, there's no way the machine can hold onto him if he needs to get away. If it tries to take too much, or something." He smiled. "And thanks. My ego can always use a little petting."

"Do ye think there'll be any negatives ta watch out for wit' this?" Moira asked, chewing on her bottom lip. She looked up when she caught the last remark and smiled a little at him. "Though it shouldnae, considerin' all th' praise ye get, Henry McCoy. Sometimes ye need ta let it get ta yer 'ead, dear."

"Aww, shucks. It's different when you do it." He grinned. "And have I mentioned how happy I am that you're back?" He stood up, helped her politely to her feet, then swept her into an embrace and dipped her until her hair almost brushed the floor. "I am beside myself with joy, the empty place in my heart is filled!" He grinned at her, gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek, and set her gently back on her feet again. "And I'm quite happy, too."

Gulping the shriek that nearly popped out, Moira laughed at him as she held on, feeling a little dizzy. "Th' feelin' is quite mutual, me friend," she said, suddenly feeling the need to attempt to hug the stuffing out of him as she took a deep breath. "Tha' yer back, wit' us, whole an' well again. 'ad me so bloody worried, Henry." As happy as she was, it was hard not to think about what almost had been.

"Me too, believe me." He gave her a gentle hug, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Mmm... and I missed you horribly while you were away, too." He gave her stomach a little pat. "I missed YOU, too, junior... I bet you've grown inches since the last time I saw you."

Snickering a little, she glanced down. "I think 'tis almost another time for a check up," she said, suddenly remembering. "Need ta schedule tha' in sometime. An' I'm glad ta be back 'ere, full time. Missed ye, missed th' school, like mad."

"I want to do the checkup! Pick me!" Hank bounced and grinned. "I want to see how my honorary niece or nephew is coming along." And that reminded him and he sighed. "I told Amanda about that, by the way....I'm not sure now if I should have. I don't think she liked the idea of me being a part of the family, even at a distance."

"Oh, liked I'd let anyone else poke around down there." Reaching over, Moira patted him on the shoulder gently. "I dinnae think 'tis ye. I think she's jus' nay used ta 'avin' ta share 'er' family. But she doesnae realize tha' I consider ye--an' Charles an' Sean--family tha' I couldnae live without. I think she an' I need ta 'ave a wee talk 'bout tha' one."

"Only if it won't upset her," Hank said a little anxiously. "It's been hard enough for her already, lately, between me screwing up so impressively and the major spell and Pete leaving... I'd hate for anything to come between the two of you. I don't mind, if she wants to have you to herself for a little longer." He paused and grinned. "Although when I mentioned how dearly I love you, she got quite hostile and threatened me with Nate's wrath. I had to reassure her that no, I did NOT mean love in a romantic sense..."

"Lord, I dinnae know wha' she would 'ave thought o' 'ow we flirted an' carried on in our younger days," she said, a touch wryly. "An' imagine 'er shock if she ever finds out 'bout Sean an' I. She did find th' pictures o' me when I was younger, now tha' was a wee bit o' a shock for 'er. An' I'll approach th' subject cautiously, Henry, promise. I dinnae want anythin' ta come inbetween us."

"Good." Hank smiled, and kissed her cheek gently. "As devastatingly lovely and delightfully firey as you are, I have no intention of attempting to steal you away from Nathan. You're happy, and I'm glad you're happy... and it's not like I didn't have plenty of time to get to you before he did, if I'd wanted to." He sighed mournfully. "I'm going to be thirty-two on Thursday. I feel old."

"Considerin' it took us 'ow bloody lon' ta get our acts together? Ye certainly 'ad time." Moira punched him lightly in the arm. "Old? Bah, remember who ye're talkin' ta 'old man'. Yer younger than I am, dinnae forget tha' for a second."

"Yes, but you've achieved a great deal more than I have, in the time." Hank smiled at her, and indicated her stomach. "The wee Laird or Lady in there, for a start. And Muir, and its facilities, and a wedding on the way..."

They had been friends for far too long for her to miss the slight undertone to his words. Crossing her arms over her chest, giving him a Look, she replied, "Wha' I've done an' 'avenae done, Henry McCoy, doesnae make yer accomplishments any lesser. Mr. I've Been Nominated for a Nobel. My God, look at wha' ye jus' built behind me!"

"And one day, I swear, I'll win one." Hank smiled. "I'd rather have the wedding and baby package, though, you know that. You ladies aren't the only ones with biological clocks that get all ticky."

Moira paused. "Is tha' wha' tha's about?" she asked, softly.

Hank sighed. "Which part of 'this'? It's something I want very much, yes. And something I doubt I'm going to have. But I do have other things that bug me, or impel me forward."

"Henry? Wha's wron?" Sidling close, she slipped an arm around him. "Somethin's up."

He gave her another hug, smiling gently down at her. "You really, really want to know?" he asked softly.

"O' course I do! Why wouldnae I? I can tell somethin's wron' an' after ye gettin' back on yer feet, ye shouldnae be worryin' 'bout ta many thin's. Spill, 'old man', or I'll 'ave ta get tricky."

"It's not something *wrong*, exactly..." He grinned. "It's just, well, one of those things that tends to set off some of my insecurities. Which, in turn, is probably why Amanda taking a dislike to me bothered me so much."

Ahhh. Grabbing for his hand, Moira tugged him over to the oversized couch. "Me feet are 'urtin'," she explained, settling down next to him and tucking her feet up and under her. "I thought tha' got ye a bit more than it normally would."

He promptly commandeered a foot, massaging it gently. "You've got to promise not to tell," he cautioned, wiggling her toes.

Whimpering--Hank had always been so very good at that--she snickering slightly. "Want me ta pinkie swear on it?"

"I'll accept your word as Lady Kinross. " Hank smiled sheepishly. "But... well, since I'm back on my feet, and have been reminded that life is short, I've more or less had to face the fact that I'm... well... somewhat besotted with Madelyn," he admitted, in a tiny voice. "And no giggling from you, or I'll tie your toes in a knot."

It was probably a good thing he had the reflexes he did or Moira probably would have ended up kicking him in the chin as she bolted upright. "Really?" she squealed, staring at him. "'onest ta god crush on our Doctor th' Second?"

"Bigger than the one I had on you when I was eighteen and my hormones were all but spilling out of my ears," Hank admitted, blushing furiously. "And I know you know about that, although I do appreciate you kindly pretending you didn't until it went away, at the time."

"'Twas 'ard nay ta notice--I 'ad a bloody 'ard time gettin' some alone time wit' ye followin' me around," she teased, taking her foot out of his hands to lean closer. "Tha' big, huh? An' I'm assumin' she doesnae know?"

"Oh, god, I hope not..." Hank said, a slightly panicked expression on his face. "If she does, that means she knows but she's pretending she doesn't, in a tactful attempt to put me off. You don't think she knows, do you? Has she said anything?"

Trying oh so very hard not to laugh at that, Moira shook her head. "I think yer safe. Madelyn...I love 'er dearly but she probably wouldnae notice someone 'ittin' on 'er for real even if they 'ad a sign tha' read "I'm bein' serious". An' ye so verra dearly love ta flirt, Henry."

"I do. And it makes a good cover when I like someone, but don't want them to know." He smiled bashfully at her. "And... well. You know how it is. When you especially want someone to like you, someone taking a sudden dislike to you, as merited as it is, isn't very encouraging."

"Ahh, tha' explains it then." With a practised swing, she lightly bapped him upside the head. "Yer loved, Henry, always 'ave been, fur or nay fur."

"But I tend to have better luck with friends than with lady-friends," he pointed out, going to work on her foot again. "And.. .well. I have no idea if Madelyn is even the slightest bit interested."

"Ye willnae know unless ye ask?" Moira said, getting a little distracted by the foot rub. "Ye an' she deserve ta 'ave some fun, wha' could it 'urt?"

"She could say no," Hank pointed out. "Which would make things very awkward."

"Hrm, true. Ohhh. I could always see wha' she thinks 'bout ye." She mused about that for a second and then laughed. "'Tis part o' me job--bein' engaged, wit' a baby, I need ta 'ook up me near an' dear ones wit' someone, shouldnae I? 'Tis all for th' greater good an' all."

Hank blushed. Hard. "Er... well, if you wanted to sound her out on the subject, I wouldn't say no..." he said, a little wistfully. "But I won't ask. That way, if she asks you if I asked you, or something, you can truthfully say no."

"Me lips are sealed, promise. Ye deserve ta be 'appy, really. I know 'ow much carin' ye 'ave inside--ye always give so much." Moira smiled at him wistfully. "Time someone gave back ta ye."

Hank smiled at her. "Well... I know she doesn't find the fur and the fangs repugnant, at least," he said, a little more cheerfully. "She was sweet, and very comforting, after my date with... Little Miss Cooties." He smiled ruefully. "Who was a terrible lapse in judgement, I know."

"Wouldnae 'ave passed my inspection, tha's for sure," Moira grumped. "Tramp."

Hank looked sheepish. "It's been so long since anyone made a pass at me...." he said ruefully. "The sheer novelty clouded my judgment."

"Yer nay ta blame for tha' bitch," was the cheerful reply as she slipped into a slightly rougher curse word than she normally used. But it was well deserved in this case. "Everyone makes mistakes an' ye 'ad nay way o' knowin' wha' this woman's game was. Unless ye plan on carryin' Cerebro around wit' ye everywhere ye go."

"I could invent a pocket Intentions-ometer," he said cheerfully. "Generations of daters would raise up their voices to praise me."

"Sell tha' an' bottle yer charm, an', hey, yer set for life!"

Hank laughed. "I already am, as you should know by now." He gestured for her to give him the other foot. "But, seriously... do you think I have a shot? Even a little one? I'll settle for an outside chance."

Switching feet, Moira thought about it for a second, staring up at her ceiling as she thought about her two friends. "I think ye 'ave a good shot," she said, tapping her chin. There had been rumors of Kurt being around a lot but she wasn't going to tell him that, just investigate that on her own like a good friend. "Yer 'andsome, charmin', got brains comin' out th walls an' she cares for ye."

Hank beamed. "You think so? Good! I'll... well... we'd talked about getting coffee and going to the Science Museum to play with the hands-on exhibits, before. Maybe I'll suggest doing that."

"Aye, do! Besides this whole thin'--which is awfully cute an' I _never_ got ta meet Alison before, shame on ye--ye bot' need ta get out o' 'ere quite badly."

"I do not. Look what happened to me last time I went out!" Hank gave her a reproachful look. "The Big Blue Room is clearly a dangerous place."

"One o' these days ye'll 'ave ta decide tha' th' big ball o' fire in th' sky really is yer friend. It willnae set yer fur on fire, promise."

"I don't like it. It looks at me funny." Hank grinned. "Although I must admit, a Big Blue Room with Madelyn in it is rather more appealing. So is the thought of having her to myself for a little while, even on a strict 'as friends' basis. Which it will be, at first. Just, you know, to see how things go. Not because I'm a coward or anything."

Moira smiled at him knowingly. "Trust me, I dinnae think yer a coward. Never 'ave. I spent nearly 7 years wit' Nathan as 'just friends' so I more than understand. Jus' do me a favor? If ye wait tha' bloody lon' ta say anythin', I will 'ave ta 'urt ye."

"I won't. I promise." Hank grinned sheepishly. "A year, tops."

Poking him lightly in the ribs, she made a face. "Meanie."

"Yes, well... if she doesn't reciprocate, I'm NEVER going to tell her." He reached over to tickle HER ribs. "If she does... no, I'm not even going to talk about that. I don't want to jinx anything."

Moira giggled for a second as he managed to hit a rather senstive spot and then grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. "True. Jus' remember 'tis alright ta take a chance, aye?"

"Maybe." He smiled ruefully. "My romantic history so far hasn't really given me any faith in the technique, but... well, you know me. Always the optimist."

"Ye better always be optimistic or I'll be forced ta be th' Enforced Optimistic Fairy. Wit' a large stick."

Hank thought about that for a moment. "I have it!" he said brightly. "A fairy-themed wedding! You'd make a lovely Titania in white robes and sparkling jewels.... and I'm sure Nathan would fill out the tights admirably." He snickered. "And Amanda would make a charming Fairy Daisy."

Moira stared at him for a second and then nearly fell off the couch from laughing. "Oh my bloody God..." she laughed, unable to get any of those images out of her head.

Hank laughed. "It would be fun. You could make everyone attend in costume. I'll even wear the Ass's Head, if you like." He snickered. "And oh, lord... can't you just see Scott in tunic and tights (TIGHT tights)? He'd die of embarrassment."

A bark of laughter escaped at that one. "But I bet 'e'd do it! If'n I asked!" The very idea of Scott Summers even _agreeing_ to such a thing sent her off again, clutching her ribs tightly.

Hank giggled at that thought. "Oh, oh, and any of the guys who won't wear a fairy outfit can be forced into the traditional kilt... worn in the traditional manner." He winked. "Can you see some of the boys trying to decide between pink tights and a skirt with no underwear?"

"I think yer makin' th' baby laugh..." came the choked replied. The idea of some of the X-Men--oh God, Haroun.

Hank reached over and patted her stomach gently. "You agree with me, don't you?" he said seriously. "You think Daddy should get married in green tights and sparkly eye-makeup, I'm sure."

"Ziggy Stardust!"

"No, no, Oberon..." Hank giggled. "The oak-leaves in his hair, and all..."

Wiping tears out of her eyes, she snickers. "Oh, God, nay goin' ta be able ta look at 'im for a while without laughin'."

Hank grinned. "Don't forget Amanda as Fairy Daisy," he said happily. "Pink and white, with an overskirt cut to resemble petals, and flowers in her hair and little pointy shoes with bells on the toes...."

"Oohhh, I think she'd tap dance on bot' o' our graves for tha' mental image."

"Toes jingling all the time."

Comments

[xp_daytripper]

And Hank wonders why Amanda doesn't like him? Stabbity Death! To all suggestions of fairy outfits!

[x-beast.livejournal.com]

Hey, he offered to wear the Ass's head! He'd be being embarrassed right along with her! *g* Besides, it made Moira happy. And it'd be worth it to see Haroun and Cain in tights and pointy shoes, you know it would!

[xp_daytripper]

There was PINK. Pink was definitely mentioned. *growls* Nothing is worth pink, even Cain in tights.

[x-beast.livejournal.com]

Not even Cain in pink tights? And a jolly little hat with a flower in it?

[xp_daytripper]

Only mind control would get him to wear that, and there would still be a pink and white dress. *scowls*

[x-blink.livejournal.com]

ZIGGY!!!

clarice likes this idea...

[x-beast.livejournal.com]

*g* Clarice, I suspect, would be going as Fairy Sparkle.

[x-sanfuaiyaa.livejournal.com]

Scott in tights? (TIGHT tights!) He doesn't strike me as one who roams around the forest looking for fights. He doesn't look like a sissy, but I'd better watch what I say or else he'll put out my lights.