xp_logs | Thermopylae - Moments of Transition (part 1)

The X-Men depart for Youra.

There is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities, it is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition, to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain.
-'Zha'ha'dum', Babylon 5

~*~

Nathan checked the zippers on his uniform, for about the sixth time, and then sat down on the bench, staring into his locker a bit blankly. He raised a hand and the psimitar came floating out and to him. He closed his hands around it, staring down at the blade for a long moment, absolutely nothing in the way of coherent thought forming in his mind.

Knowing whether the locker room was clear or not hadn't been much of a problem - all the others were in the hangar bay, prepping the 'Bird or running about checking equipment for the nth time. Locating Nathan was simply a matter of finding the closest yet quietest spot around. Leaning in the doorway of the locker room, Alison waited for him to notice her, clad in her own leathers already.

He wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there before he finally noticed her. Mustering a ghost of a smile, he looked up at her, his hands tightening around the staff of the psimitar. "Time to go already?" he asked, his voice coming out hushed-sounding, even in the quiet of the locker room.

"We have a little time yet," she replied, moving further into the locker room. Her voice was low and modulated as well, as though paying tribute to the silence - or the calm before the storm, perhaps. Alison sat down on the bench as well, bringing up both legs, cross-legged.

Nathan watched her. "I promised Moira I'd stop at the medlab again once I got ready. Before I got on the plane." He stared down at the psimitar again. "Too much time to think," he murmured. "I like it better when we're hopping on the 'Bird with fifteen minutes' notice."

She was used to waiting - it was odd that it was live shows that had given her the nerves to do so, even though this was of an entirely different thing. It was only after... "Was it always a fifteen minutes' notice with the Pack?"

"Rarely. But this is different." Nathan planted the butt of the psimitar on the floor in front o him and looked upwards, at the way the light glinted off the blade. Forge had done some exquisite work with it. It felt right, in every possible way. "Like the deep breath before the plunge," he murmured, knowing he was quoting something, but unable to remember just what. "Knowing you're beginning a day that's going to change everything is a strange feeling."

Alison recognized the quote, but simply nodded slowly. The plans were as ready as could be, everything prepped and set up the day before and currently being reviewed or inspected by a team member. Ororo was coordinating with Madelyn, who was with the taskforce keeping an eye on things from that end. Hers had been the last voice she'd heard before heading off to find Nathan. She'd hugged Miles that morning, one last time before leaving, and gravely nodded when he'd promised he'd be there waiting when she returned. "I know."

"This is not like me," Nathan muttered, a bit irritably. "I get weird after-action, not before..." But then, he'd been fighting nerves on the way up to Canada, too. In Vermont, in Belgium... seemed that Mistra was an exception to his usual rule.

"Nathan..." Alison brought her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Speaking from the land of one who also does the weird after-reaction thing..." She shook her head and sighed a bit. "This is a lot closer to you than anything else. I'd say weird before-action isn't exactly surprising, here." She smiled crookedly at him.

"But this isn't productive," Nathan muttered, closing his eyes for a moment. "Nerves make you hesitate. I don't think I can afford to hesitate." He had succumbed to Moira's all-too-logical arguments and taken a couple of the evil little green pills last night. He really didn't want to think about the state he'd be in right now if he hadn't slept.

"You won't hesitate once we're there." The words were calm and without doubt. Alison herself had avoided most of the worry and fear by simply not thinking about it, focusing on other things entirely. Spending time with Miles the previous evening and with Haroun later that night. Focusing on the now instead of later, as best she could. She was still in that mindframe now, for some reason, dealing with things as they came rather than looking ahead.

"I don't know that I have that much faith in myself," Nathan said as steadily as he could. "Oh, I'm not planning to wallow in doubt, here, but..." He stopped, shrugging, a faintly ironic smile tugging at his lips. "I'll do what I have to do," he said more quietly. "That much I know I can count on."

"That's all any of us ever have, Nathan." And some had even less than that, actually - but she wasn't there herself for some reason this time, so bringing it up was useless. It would have been anyway. "We'll all be doing that, in the end."

"I have that damned song in my head again," he sighed, getting up. "Over and over again... and not just because I'm reviewing how to trigger the Trojan Horse." He turned the psimitar over in his hands, hefting it experimentally. "This will help," he said quietly.

A shiver ran down Alison's spine, and this time she didn't sing out the final lyrics, instead choosing to slowly unfold her legs and stand up beside him. "It will. Ready to go?" It would be time soon - if he wanted to go see Moira, it was best he go now.

Nathan nodded. Not curtly, but briefly, already beginning to draw composure around him like armor. "~Part with a smile on your lips,~" he said to Alison, an old Askani saying about leaving loved ones behind when heading off to battle. "I'll see you in the hangar, little sister."

~*~

They also serve who sit and wait. That was what had been running through Doug's head all night, and into the wee morning hours. He hadn't been able to sleep well, which was part of why he was down in the subbasement in a pair of Xavier's sweats with a large mug of hot chocolate. The slightly subdued chaos of everyone getting into their uniforms and checking gear radiated an air of competence, but did nothing for the nervous pit of worry in Doug's stomach.

Sipping his hot chocolate, he padded on socked feet towards the locker rooms, hoping he wasn't getting in anyone's way, and that he wouldn't get in trouble for being down here. It was just...he felt a need to be here, a responsibility to be part of things and to see all the people that he cared for off, to reassure them that the mansion would be safe while they were gone.

Stepping out of the men's locker room, Nathan still inside for a moment longer, Alison closed the door shut - and paused as she noticed Doug turning the corner and heading down the hallway. The mug was being help with that careful attention that usually meant the person was at least determined to do that well, for not being able to something else instead. "Hey," she called out softly, walking towards him to close the distance between them.

Oh man. Doug bit his lower lip lightly. Do not fall apart, he repeated over and over to himself in his head. He tried not to think about the way his eyes captured everything about the way Alison looked, and the implications of why he was subconsciously doing that. "Dazzler," he said just as quietly, with a nod, because she was already in her leathers, and he could see the air of command radiating from her body language.

He looked so very young holding the mug like that, looking at her with that same expression Miles had the previous night, the one that said he'd be calm and strong no matter what. "The 'Bird is nearly prepped and ready," she said, speaking in low tones as well. She was worried for him, and for all those who would have to stay behind and wait. "Will you be all right?"

All right? He was about as far from all right as he could be, because this was the way it was always going to be. Everyone else going out on missions, and Doug staying behind to wait and see if everyone came home safe. And he wasn't sure that it was ever going to get any easier. But the alternatives were swallow his worries and do his job, or curl up in his room worrying constantly. And the second option wouldn't solve anything. "I'm fine," he lied, smiling gently. Not that he necessarily expected her to believe him, with the assessing look she had, but he needed to be strong for everyone, not cry on their shoulders. There would be time for that later. When they all came home safe. When, not if, he kept saying to himself.

His knuckles were paling against the mug, and she took a step closer - as careful of him as he was being of the cup he was holding. "I'm scared stiff." The admission was easy, and Alison smiled as she said it, eyes overbright. She freed the mug from his grip gently and set it down on the floor, carefully. Drawing him into a crushing hug might not help with his composure, she knew, but it would help them both and she would not wish to leave having passed up the chance to do so. Never that.

Doug's careful attempts to avoid being overemotional about the whole situation were swept away by Alison's arms as she drew him towards her. Quiet tears rolled down his cheeks and into her leathers as his arms clung around her waist tightly. Maybe he could let go of trying to be strong for just a few moments.

After a few long silent moments, Doug stepped back and wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Want me to walk you down to the hangar?" he asked with just the hint of a waver in his voice.

"I'd like that." If her own voice was a bit too tight, she paid it no mind. Some things were more important than looking strong or being perfect. And Doug and the others already had enough of a load on their shoulders without having to pretend to be all that, when it wasn't needed in the first place.

~*~

Still carrying the psimitar - he supposed he could have left it outside the locker room and circled back around for it before heading for the hangar, but holding onto it was oddly comforting - Nathan walked into the medlab, looking around for a moment before he spotted Moira, going over supplies with apparently perfect calm. Her presence on the link was almost as perfectly controlled. All in all, it was pretty convincing, so long as he didn't pay attention to what was beneath the composed facade.

He leaned the psimitar against the wall and came to her side. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey yerself," Moira responded, finishing laying out one of the sets of medical supplies. She was setting up stations around the MedLabs, unsure how many injured they were really going to get. Or if there were going to be any extra visitors like last time. It was good to be prepared.

Turning around, she smiled a little at him. "Why is it tha' I only get ta see ye in this when 'tis nay a good time?" she joked, a little weakly.

"Because there are sadly few good excuses to prance around in head-to-toe black leather." Nathan sighed and wrapped his arms around her as she moved towards him. "It's easier when I'm jumping on the plane with fifteen minutes notice, isn't it?" he asked quietly, thinking about the conversation with Alison.

"...aye, 'tis. Gives me less chance ta worry an' fret over ye. If I 'ad a day--well, I'd be a right royal mess. But I'm also on duty right now so I need ta be calm. So, no weepin' fiancee for ye. This time." Still, she was holding onto him tightly. Bad enough it was an all X-Men alert mission, but it was Mistra. And Mistra's involvement always meant bad things in the end.

"One last time," he murmured, catching that last thought. "We'll finish it today." He still couldn't wrap his mind around that, couldn't imagine what it was going to be like... "I'll be careful," he promised her, kissing the top of her head, pushing as much love and reassurance down the link as he could. "And Cain's decided it's his responsibility to make sure I come back in one piece, remember... I'd hate to be anyone disagreeing with him on that."

Moira chuckled at that as she snuggled closer, trying to take a deep breath. "I know. I worry, though. Always will. But this needs ta be done an' everyone needs ta go. We'll 'ave everythin' set up 'ere well before we get back. I'll be sendin' out an all 'ands when ye leave for th' MedLab."

"Here's hoping we don't bring you back any business." His arms tightened around her, almost instinctively, and he struggled for a moment to sublimate what was actually a rather bad and somewhat uncharacteristic case of nerves on his part. Automatically, he traced one of the meditative patterns in his mind; it helped, a little. "I'll shield the link," he whispered. "Once we're almost there."

Nuzzling into his neck, she nodded. "I'll try ta nay worry more when tha' 'appens," she replied. "But it'll be better than 'avin' ta get all yer experiences down th' link. Especially wit' th' wee one 'ere."

"I asked Charles to keep an eye on you. Just in case..." He trailed off, immediately wishing he hadn't said that. But it had been at the back of his mind, the last couple of days... one of the nastier what-ifs. And as she'd said, they did have the baby to think about. He hugged her a little more tightly, breathing in the smell of her hair, part of him wishing he could stay here for an hour, or a day, just holding her.

Moira mrphed at him, not really cross but needing to grump at him for that anyway. "Appreciate it, though I doubt there'll be any need," she said, firmly, rubbing his back. "An' then ye'll be back soon enough, wit' me, an' everyone else an' it'll all be over."

Clinging to her as if they were going to need to come and drag him off to the Blackbird would not be reassuring, Nathan reminded himself. "Strange feeling," he said quietly, drawing back a little. "You might have to remind me a few times that I'm awake and not dreaming. Afterwards."

Her hands reached up and cupped him around the jaw. "I'll be more than 'appy ta remind ye, over an' over again, as lon' as ye need it," she said softly.

"You always were my hold on sanity," Nathan said with a shaky laugh, then took a deep breath. "Where's--" he started to ask Moira, then stopped, with a strained smile, sensing the approach of the person he'd just been wondering about. He brushed his fingers down the line of her jaw in a brief caress and then turned, taking a deep breath and trying to project at least an appearance of calm as Amanda walked into the medlab.

"Bright an' early, like I said I would..." Amanda paused in the doorway, a hint of puzzlement on her face. "Oh, if you two're busy or somethin', I can come back later," she continued, with a slightly teasing smile.

"Nonsense," Nathan said as crisply as he could, offering her a quick, wry smile. "Moira was just ogling my ass in all the black leather." Moira gave a stifled laugh, and Nathan reached down the link in another caress before he started to move towards Amanda, the smile fading away.

Sensing they needed to be alone, or at least semi-alone for a moment, Moira started to finish up what she had been working on before Nathan had entered the room.

"I'm heading out in a few minutes," Nathan said, feeling more than a bit awkward now that it had come right down to it.

"Oh," She felt a bit stupid now, realising he was in the X-Men leathers. Which probably meant he wasn't going for a carton of milk or something, especially after Hank's announcement on the medlab list. The familiar heavy sensation in her chest grew, the feeling that perhaps this might well be the last time she'd see him. And she couldn't think of a thing to say.

Was this selfish of him? Wanting to see her, to tell her... Nathan took another deep breath, crossing the rest of the distance between them, trying to smile again. "Amanda... mi'caehla," he said more softly as she stared down at the floor. "Look at me? Please?"

She looked up, trying hard to smile, to be brave. "Off t' save the world again?" she managed to joke weakly.

"Maybe a little part of it," he murmured, then stepped closer and hugged her tightly. #It's Mistra,# he sent very softly.

The heavy weight inside her turned cold, and she reminded herself of those kids, of Columbia. Something needed to be done. #Another rescue mission?# she sent back, trying very hard not to cling to him, and not managing it very well. The leather of his uniform was cool and unyielding under her cheek.

#No,# he sent back, his arms tightening around her. #A taking them down for good kind of mission, actually...# She was scared. He could sense it. #It'll be done after today,# he told her, trying to project confidence, certainty.

If she'd been conflicted before... They wouldn't go down without a fight, she knew that, and it would be a nasty fight at that. There was a bloody good chance they'd lose him. But he was doing it, taking them on, not letting them get away with hurting people. She wanted to tell him to be careful, to make sure he came back okay, that she was so proud and so scared for him, all at the same time, but none of it would come out past the lump in her throat and the tumult in her mind. #It needs finishing,# she sent back at last, trying desperately to pull herself together.

"Shh," he said aloud, softly. Not letting go of her. "I know." And he knew she'd know he didn't just mean that he knew it needed finishing. "It'll be--" He stopped himself, smiling a bit weakly. No promises. She didn't need that right now. "I love you," he said instead, drawing back a little and kissing her forehead.

"Love you too, old man," she replied a bit brokenly back, but holding her head up, looking him in the face. He could have just gone without telling her no more than they'd been told, she knew that. It was as much an X-Men mission as it was personal for him, and the team was under no obligation to let the students know anything at all was going on. She wouldn't make him regret treating her like an adult. "I'll help Moira while you're gone," she added, glancing over at the Scottish doctor, meaning far more than just the medlab duties. "You'd better get goin', yeah? The rest of the fetish brigade'll be waitin' for you." A smile indicated she didn't mean the term in a bad way.

"Hey, they're not about to leave without me," Nathan said, mustering a slightly steadier smile. "I'm their secret weapon and all, remember..."

"Oi! If they bloody well leave without ye, I'm goin' ta 'ave words wit' each an' every single one o' th' lot tha' come back!" Moira said, loudly.

Amanda could have joked that wasn't exactly encouraging people to come back, but the joke was too close to home, the wound of Pete's departure still too tender. She hugged Nathan one more time, and then let go, stepping back to stand beside Moira as she joined them. "I've got t' say, the Prof is onto somethin' with the black leather," she said with a shadow of a grin.

Nathan rolled his eyes a little, still smiling, then stepped forward and took Moira in his arms again, kissing her soundly and lingeringly. "You be good," he murmured, his eyes flickering sideways to Amanda for a moment and then back to Moira as he laid a hand on what she had taken to calling, with a certain amount of wry humor, the 'bump'. "All three of you."

"Yes, Nathan," she said, dryly. Reaching out, Moira grabbed Amanda around the shoulders and pulled her in for a quick group hug.

Amanda had been theatrically covering her eyes during the kiss, and the sudden grabbed startled her out of the tightly-held veneer of control. Clinging to both of them, she was glad neither could see the sudden tears that left small wet marks on the shoulder of Moira's labcoat, and the front of Nathan's uniform. "As good as gold," she promised, breathing in hard through her nose to get control of her face again. "Get on with you, now. Or Summers'll give you a tardy slip or somethin'."

"Love you both," he murmured, holding them both to him for one last, long moment, before he let go. "No waving from the lawn," he said, managing as close to a real grin as he could as he turned to retrieve his psimitar and headed for the door. "It just makes you both look needy."

"Love ye, ta," Moira replied, one arm still looped around Amanda. Wisely, she didn't comment on the tears. As he left, she whispered, "We could always wave from th' roof...."

"Backwash from the engines makes a mess of yer hair," Amanda pointed out with a half-choked hiccup of a chuckle. Without warning, she hugged Moira fiercely, not wanting to upset the older woman but not able to be strong, not just yet. "He'll be all right," she managed to say, convincing herself as much as Moira. "He'll sort those bastards right an' proper an' be back before we know it."

"We live wit' th' X-Men, I'm sure one o' them should 'ave a brush ta deal wit' Blackbird engine 'air -- except Haroun," Moira said, hugging Amanda as close to her as she could. "I know, gloamin', I know. In th' meantime, we've got each other an' everyone else an' we'll make do. We always do."

That they did - Amanda didn't mention the feeling she was running out of strength to keep going. "Right," she said as briskly as she could manage. "You've got yer extra pair of hands and feet here know - what needs doin'?"

~*~

Scott, coming into the hangar, spotted Doug standing and watching, as if he was trying to fix mental pictures of everyone in his memory, and made a brief detour over there. "We'll need you to clear the hangar floor once everyone's aboard," he said briskly.

Doug nodded crisply. "I understand, sir," he said. The calm professionalism in Scott's voice helped keep him from losing it the way he had with Alison earlier. "I just thought I'd come see you off, and see if you needed any help getting ready."

"No, I think we're good." He smiled a little at Doug. "Nice to have the send-off, though. Gives us the hope that you're not all just waiting until we leave to have a wild party and trash the house." The joke was a gentle one, but it looked like Doug could use a little humor right about now.

Doug managed a dry chuckle. "No, see, I'm the one appointed to sucker you into thinking that, sir." He shook his head. "I imagine Jamie's already coming up with nefarious plans to get the little kids hopped up on Pixie Sticks and then turn them loose."

"Well, so long as we all still have intact beds to crash onto when we get back, we'll forgive any incidental property damage. I don't speak for Cain, mind you..." Scott trailed off, looking over at the Blackbird, then down at his watch. "We need to get going," he said quietly, focusing on Doug again.

There were a million things that he wanted to say, to cram all of them into a few short seconds before the plane lifted off. But now was not the time. The team didn't need to be distracted from the mission at hand. Doug just hoped against hope that everyone would come home safe. "Good luck and good hunting, sir," he said strongly, the calmness in his voice belying all the emotions running beneath the surface. He reached out with his free hand to clasp Scott's, then turned to the door. He stood behind the heavy windows, watching as the Blackbird lifted up out of the hangar, and he watched carefully as it flew off, following it with his eyes until the hangar doors shut again. Then he turned and walked briskly for the elevator. He had work to do, so that Mr. Summers would return to find the mansion just as he left it.

~*~

Green across the board. Scott took a deep breath, relaxing into the pilot's chair. He was aware of Sam in the copilot's seat beside him, a few murmurs from those behind them in the cabin. No one seemed up to much in the way of conversation this morning, and he didn't think it had anything to do with the early hour. No one had really looked at him as he'd moved forward through the plane to the cockpit; there'd been pensive expressions everywhere he looked.

It didn't worry him, since what he hadn't seen were any signs of undue worry. Nathan was a little more visibly tense than most, but that was understandable. No, what he was seeing was his people processing what they were about to do, he thought. Wrapping their minds around the magnitude of it. Hurray for flight time...

Sam finished up his own preflight check and looked over at Cyclops. At least in the copilot seat of the 'Bird, he knew what to do, what to say. Because the good Lord knew he couldn't seem to say or do the right thing much of the rest of the time. "Everything checks out, Cyclops," he said crisply and professionally, his steady voice not betraying the worries in his heart. "Good to go."

"Roger." Scott brought up the engines, then glanced sideways at Sam, smiling a little. "I'll let you fly her on the way home," he said with a quiet chuckle.

"You'd better believe it, sir," Sam replied with an answering grin. He leaned back in his chair, keeping his hands near his own controls in case something happened, and indicated the roof of the hangar with a small flip of his hand. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more..."

"You launch into the St. Crispin's Day speech, Sam, and I'm going to laugh at you..."

Lift-off. Scott brought her gracefully through the open roof of the hangar, into the open air. Despite the circumstances, part of him couldn't help but revel - as always, a voice in the back of his mind pointed out in amusement - in how responsive the Blackbird was, how smoothly she handled. I do so love my plane...

The smile faded a little as they continued to ascend, and he got a good look at the school. Still mostly dark, just like the world at this time of the morning, and he let the air in his lungs out on a sigh. "Be there when I get back," he murmured, too softly for Sam to hear him.

Then he turned the plane in the direction of Washington DC.

~*~

The Blackbird arrives at the staging area to meet up with the taskforce.

This had been an Air Force base at one point, Scott knew, and it appeared that it still served as a jumping-off point when the aforementioned jumping off needed to be done quietly. He glanced back up through the open hatch of the Blackbird, listening for a moment to the quiet conversation going on among the team members - Alison and Ororo reviewing the layout of the Mistra complex with everything.

Then he looked back out at the airfield, and the two sizeable cargo planes being loaded - one with at least four dozen body-armored men and women who had 'special ops' written all over them, the other with helicopters. Scott let his gaze roam over their surrounding for a moment longer before he spotted a familiar figure heading in the direction of the Blackbird. Smiling faintly, he strode out to meet her.

"Well, if it isn't our taskforce liaison," he said dryly. "Hey, Maddie."

She grinned at him, adjusting the black 'special ops' type jacket a little self-consciously. "Hey, Captain," she said. "We heard there was a party on and thought we'd join in. How was the flight?"

"Short," Scott said dryly. "Haroun wanted to play with the afterburners but I told him to save the fuel. We've got a long way to go, after all." He eyed the cargo planes again. "So everyone's clear on the coordinates for MacInnis' base in Galicia? MacInnis said they could unload their helicopters and get set up there for the hop to Greece. Even promised he'd see about a refueling for the 'Bird, although I'm not holding my breath."

"Scott, stop drooling over the pretty helicopters," Madelyn told him with a snicker. "And yes, everything's passed on and arranged. I think everyone's looking forward to putting an end to this, one way or another..." A brief moment of worry darkened her eyes at the thought of the potential cost they were looking at. "It looks like we'll be working in tandem with the X-Men, mostly. MacInnis doesn't seem to like us very much. Although the feeling's mutual."

"I know," Scott said with a sigh. "Morgan and Foley have done their best, but they haven't really had enough time. I think MacInnis' teams will be fine in the field, from the sounds of it, but tactical coordination is another matter entirely." He glanced back over his shoulder at the Blackbird. "Nathan's convinced that if worse comes to worse, MacInnis' ex-operatives will follow him and the other two."

"The last thing we need in there is a loyalty test - let's just hope MacInnis sees the bigger picture." Madelyn took a breath, focusing herself. "It's kind of strange, realising today could mean the end of Mistra," she said reflectively. "After all this time, all the heartache... We've finally got the chance to nail the bastards."

"The best chance possible, from the sounds of it," Scott said, mentally reviewing the briefing material. "Going to be dicey, though. I'm awfully glad we're not going in alone."

"Who'd have thought, the X-Men, the government and Nate and his team, working together?" Madelyn replied with a soft chuckle. The wind whipped around them, stirring up the dust and teasing a few wisps of hair from the tight braid. "It wasn't that long ago that some of the X-Men were on the most wanted list. This could be a sign of things to come."

Scott raised a gloved hand, crossing his fingers where she could see it. "Good example of the Professor's dream on a practical level, if you ask me - us going in side-by-side with government troops like this. One more reason to pull this off and do it well." One reason of many, of course.

"Well, I know some people are liking the idea..." Madelyn's glance flickered to an older man from the CIA conferring with the representative from the military, a brief smile crossing her face. She'd enjoyed being able to work with the government types more than she'd admit. "How're the troops holding up?"

"Champing at the bit is the phrase that applies, I think." Scott shook his head, a faintly wondering expression on his face. "First time we've taken the entire team out since... well, since the team's been this big. I think the kids thought we were off to fight Magneto or something."

"The rumour mill will be running hot," she agreed, chuckling again. "I should probably go check with Hank on the medevac procedures - apparently they're setting up a point not far from the landing area, and I need to make sure he's got the co-ordinates if he's going to be bringing people out to us."

"I wish I could hope that we weren't going to need it," Scott said with a barely stifled sigh, "but something tells me this is liable to be messy, even with the best possible results." He turned, gesturing for her to follow him back towards the 'Bird. "Do me a favor and say something to Nathan. Just to see if he responds with anything more than a grunt. He's a little on the glassy-eyed side this morning."

She reached over and took his hand briefly, giving it a squeeze. "Messy is what we're good at," she reminded him with a small, wry grin. "And sure, I can do that. I'm especially good at being annoying enough to get a rise out of him when he's like this. Just don't let him bounce me off the tarmac too hard?"

"We can always ask Cain to sit on him," Scott said with a faint smile, squeezing back.

~*~