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The Sun Also Rises; 05/24-early morning - Moira, Sean
Topic Started: Aug 17 2014, 07:50 PM (747 Views)
Moira MacTaggert
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And here they were, back to wandering that maze Emma seemed to be trying to weave. The one that went precisely nowhere while she busied herself pointing out how her own trials far surpassed those of anyone else, or how she'd not said exactly what she'd just said.

Sure in her own superiority of troubles in only the way a person who was so very certain the had the full extent of them could be. More the folly, for Moira was as certain herself that not the first one of them truly had that, nor truly wanted to, in this. The knowing of it was more than enough without the feelings that might've gone with those memories. She'd a taste of that, as she'd watched her own son killed before her eyes. By a friend and with no other choice, and it was all too easy to extrapolate that to some shadow of what those stolen memories might've carried, in conjunction with the loss and betrayal that came with knowing they'd once existed at all and why they didn't now. As she knew it would be the same for Sean and his own memories of loss that he carried with him and that she'd seen as shadows in his eyes more than once.

There was no need she felt to parade it all about and make comparisons, t'was a game with no possible winner. And, so, Moira settled for a look to Sean and those steady, Irish blue eyes she knew so well and then occupied herself with fetching a stool and seeing about moving herself over to the bar as Emma changed to the subject of Artie and Leech as though Sean had been holding something from her, instead of trying to pry a word in edgewise.

As for what she knew of Emma and how Charles' ideas of 'better left unknowing' had touched her in this, aye, that was for Rachel to tell if she felt it a necessary thing for the White Queen to know. It wasn't her place nor a decision she wished to make.

“I see,” Emma said neutrally, which was, in itself, anything but as she held her place by the cabinets. “That is something I would have appreciated knowing earlier.” Oh, aye, of course she would. Though Moira was of the suspicion that a minute after wouldn't have suited the woman as soon enough, for all that the sun was barely up now as it was.

There was a crease to Sean's brow that told her he was likely pondering much the same. “Well, would you have liked me to wake you up in the middle of the night to discuss it right away?” he asked rhetorically, confirming Moira's own suspicion as she pulled her chair over. “I thought it could wait till morning to talk about,” he added, by way of self-exclusion, with a glance toward the window, and the pink light it was letting into the room, “and it’s barely past dawn now.”

It was the geneticists suspicion that Emma would quite have enjoyed that. Having him wandering into her room in the dead of night to discuss business while she was in her night clothes. Though there was still that suspicion linger in her head that they were doing just that, now, in the scant light of early dawn, all the same.

Another shake of her head as she settled herself onto her stool and she made an attempt to dismiss that suspicion. For the moment, anyway, as she got back to the meat of the matter, which was the two younger children. Like it or not - and she was as certain Emma Frost wouldn't like it as she was of the sun at dawn - the auburn haired woman couldn't help but think Artie and Leech were more in need of a family than to be mascots for a group of teenagers.

There went Sean's head, turning her way, a beginning protest forming that she could feel coming. Nay, she'd not meant to say that the teenagers of Generation X weren't fond of the boys, for she knew they were as well as he did. But t'was not the same as what the Fantastic Four could provide them with, and it was something children of that age, especially those two, were in sore need of: A family. And there was no doubt the Richards were that, and with all the resources they'd need at their disposal to give those boys all the things that they needed.

“And do you expect they can provide a stable environment as well?” Emma asked, and Moira could do naught but gust out an exasperated sigh at that, since Sean would not likely do it for himself. Did the woman believe, truly, with what had just happened here, and the recent events, even, at the Academy, that any of this was any sort of stable environment for them? “As many times as they’ve been moved from home to home, I should think there’s little good to be had in shifting them off to yet another temporary family, however well suited to children of their age it may be.”

Oh, good lord, had Sean not just assured her as much not a moment ago? Surely she'd not have forgotten that quickly, though she was certain that single-minded determination to manipulate and rewrite reality to her better liking was quite distracting for the White Queen. Or was it that she was, perhaps, being willfully dull?

Sean gave his head a shake, then a nod, though the two didn't entirely mesh together. “Well, aye, I do. This would be a family after all, not just another home. Nor just a ‘school’.” Aye, a family, which everyone should know by now was what the Fantastic Four was and had always been before all else. “But if you have concerns,” he continued, “I’m sure Sue and her husband would be more than willing to talk them out with you, and see if there’s not a common page we can all agree on.”

Och, and now there would be a meeting she'd pay to sit in on.

"I'm sure they'd be happy to allay whatever concerns you might have," Moira added for herself (provided those concerns weren't solely to do with losing her control over Artie and Leech), now wishing she'd remembered to bring her coffee along with her. But it had been left on the counter with her breakfast. She'd see to it in a moment. "If it's stability you're concerned about, you'll not likely find a more stable place nor group of people. They've proved it time and again."

Including to the State of New York, which was more than Emma Frost could ever say, she was certain.

"If it's the boys long term welfare you're truly concerned with," instead of collecting children like Easter Eggs and hovering about them like a toddler unwilling to share her 'toys', which was more how it was beginning to seem, "then I'd think it was an offer you'd be glad to have."
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White Queen
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The past couldn't be changed. All that could be done was to learn from it and do better. Yes, Emma would get right on that.

Or she would, if she hadn't already spent more than the past year working toward that very thing.

Perhaps Xavier truly believed Emma was capable of learning from the past. Of turning over a new leaf and doing a little better than she had before. Or it may have all been just another manipulation. Whatever the case, he'd managed to convince Emma that she didn't have to be the same White Queen she'd been when she'd been with the Hellfire Club. She wasn't about to denounce whatever progress she may have made so far just because everything he'd ever said was now suspect, nor was she about to stop trying to do better as a result.

That wasn't something she intended to discuss around the likes of Moira, however, and since it seemed Sean had a similar decision facing him, Emma shelved it in favor of inquiring what he'd been about to say about two of their wards.

So. The Fantastic Four were interested in bringing Artie and Leech into their home, presumably while things were sorted out here. Perhaps even in a more permanent capacity. And Sean, again with all the resolve of a dieting woman on the third week of January, announced that he felt it was the best option.

That information would have been very useful earlier, and might have saved them all quite a bit of time, not to mention a breakfast that was now in the process of going to waste.

Sean never did seem to take such criticisms from Emma well, and this was no different. Bushy brows knitting together as if they meant to clap against each other, he said, “Well, would you have liked me to wake you up in the middle of the night to discuss it right away?”

"What an interesting thought," Emma said, still keeping her expression neutral. "You'd be more than welcome to. As one headmaster to another, of course."

Not that it had escaped Emma's notice that Moira was seething from her seat. If she suspected more, who was she to disavow it?

“I thought it could wait till morning to talk about,” [Sean] added, by way of self-excusion, with a glance toward the window, and the pink light it was letting into the room, “and it’s barely past dawn now.”

That was apparently Moira's cue to endorse the idea, sounding very much as though she wanted nothing more than to be preemptively contrary to whatever Emma thought on the matter. The Scottish woman seemed oddly fixated on keeping younger children within their own age groups. Merely mascots? Is that all she thought they were? She was beginning to sound like Angelo.

Not content to leave it at that, the geneticist went on to damn the school once by praising the Richards' for their ability to provide for all the needs of any child below the age of fifteen.

Safety, guidance, a family. But the boys had changed homes many times. The year they'd spent at the Academy was perhaps the longest they'd spent anywhere since the Morlocks had been slaughtered and Artie's father had been killed. Was Sean confident they'd find a stable environment with the Fantastic Four in addition to all the rest? She could hardly think it would be healthy to send the boys to a new home, however appealing it sounded, if they were only to be sent to yet another home a few months later.

If Sean 'sensed' the boys wished to stay with them longer than a short time, then it obligated them to see to it that wherever they ended up truly lived up to that wish.

A shake of Sean's head. Then a nod. “Well, aye, I do. This would be a family after all, not just another home. Nor just a ‘school’.” He sounded quite confident of that for not having any knowledge of how exactly they might fit in to the current dynamic, didn't he. “But if you have concerns,” he continued, “I’m sure Sue and her husband would be more than willing to talk them out with you, and see if there’s not a common page we can all agree on.”

Emma shifted over to rest her hip against the counter. "It sounds like we should discuss the matter regardless," she replied.

"I'm sure they'd be happy to allay whatever concerns you might have," Moira added. "If it's stability you're concerned about, you'll not likely find a more stable place nor group of people. They've proved it time and again."

They certainly had, assuming one was willing to overlook their track record of the opposite. Time and time again. From trouble paying the rent to broken marriages because of Skrull imposters, the list was easily as long as anything Moira might think to credit them with. The first year alone could fill an entire volume. Did she really think Emma was just going to trust that anyone living under their roof would be insulated from such disruptions?

"If it's the boys long term welfare you're truly concerned with, then I'd think it was an offer you'd be glad to have." As if Moira believed they should have been looking to place them anywhere but with them from the very beginning. Or, given Xavier was the one who'd decided to enroll them, then from the moment he'd been exiled. That latter possibility may even be true, and made Emma wonder if she thought they should stop at just the boys.

"You know very well it's never that simple," Emma said before returning her attention to Sean. "I will be speaking with the Richards' and am quite interested in what they have to offer. If the Artie and Leech agree that this is what they wish to do, far be it from me to stand in their way."

Emma let out a quick sigh. It really was too early in the morning. "We should meet later," she said to her colleague. "It's clear that we need to discuss just what sort of school we wish to run from here on as well as which needs we're best equipped to address."
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Ah lord, how many twists and turns could keep coming at this early time in a morning? More than he could keep up with, Sean was yet again coming to realize as once more he watched the words trot out of his mouth and only afterward realized how ill-advised they might have been. Now Emma was calling the prospect of a middle of the night meeting ‘interesting’, and Mo had a look about her, and…

…jaysis. One headmaster to another, that wasn’t going to cut any ice at all. Sean couldn’t even imagine that it would cut a lump of putty, so he did his best to head it off before it could go any farther than it had. Aye, perhaps he might have been ‘welcome’ to barge in in the middle of the night to tell her about Sue’s offer the minute it had been made, but he’d judged it to be something that could wait till the morning to discuss (not being an emergency, or any such thing), and here they were only barely past dawn, so… aye. Now she did know.

And then it was Mo again, speaking up to offer her own thoughts on what Artie and Leech might be most in need of. Which, while he appreciated her opinion, as he always had, Sean wasn’t sure he could imagine doing any better as a recommendation to Emma as his colleague’s point about the ‘open door’ policy she’d taken to claiming had been for her. Jaysis, and the turns, and the turns, and there went Emma, coming back with a query about his opinion of the stability of the Fantastic Four that could only be described as loaded. Possibly locked too, and ready to pull some kind of trigger.

But aye… well, she was asking, and if she had her opinions of her own lurking behind the smooth face she was presenting to them, well, and so he had the same. Based on what he knew of the Richards, both from personal experience (the lengths they’d gone to for Kitty years ago did come to mind), and from repute, then aye. Indeed he could say that he thought they could provide a stable environment for those two boys. For it would be a family, and not just a living situation, or a ‘school’. No child ought to be shifted willy nilly like a hot potato, Emma did have the right of it there, but nor did he think that they should never be moved to a situation that could be far better than what they had, just to avoid the stress of a change.

There were arguments to be made either way, that was the point. As he suspected Sue, and her husband, would be only too cognizant of themselves, and so he could certainly call himself sure that they’d be willing to talk over any concerns that Emma might have about the idea. Aye, and he was back to talking, without any particular agenda going into it, and just trying to see whether there wasn’t a common page to be agreed on.

Aye. Well, that was his two p on the matter, at least, but if his colleague had an opinion of her own about that, she wasn’t letting a whisker of it show as she kept regarding him, shifting her weight slightly into the table. "It sounds like we should discuss the matter regardless," she replied.

“Well… aye,” Sean nodded, perhaps with a little more uncertainty as he tried to decide whether or not there was an extra message he was supposed to be reading in that, or no. “At least I think we should,” he added, to be clear about that. In case it hadn’t been obvious from the fact he’d said that he thought the idea was a good one in the first place… aye, well. Repeating himself in different words probably wouldn’t be remembered as the worst of his verbal sins in this conversation, now would it? Nor even likely make a highlight reel.

“I’m sure they'd be happy to allay whatever concerns you might have," Moira added for herself, with some certainty of her own. Well, she knew the Richards as well as he did, or very likely better. Dr Richards was a colleague, and the whole family were friends, and as she was saying, they could certainly attest to their stability. For they’d proved it, if anyone had, and they weren’t the sort to be making an offer like this without considering whether or not they could truly do it.

“If it's the boys long term welfare you're truly concerned with,” Moira added though, in a tone that, in truth, probably deserved the term ‘loaded’ as much as Emma’s earlier one had, leaving Sean doing his best to suppress a slight wince of apprehension, “then I'd think it was an offer you'd be glad to have.”

His apprehension seemed like, perhaps, it might have been unfounded this time though. Look carefully though he might, he couldn’t detect any sign that that perhaps less than charitable suggestion about what Emma’s concerns might have been had bothered his colleague. ”You know very well it's never that simple,” was all she answered, dismissing it swiftly and looking back to Sean to inform him that, ”I will be speaking with the Richards' and am quite interested in what they have to offer. If the Artie and Leech agree that this is what they wish to do, far be it from me to stand in their way.”

Jaysis. That one was almost so much of a twist that if it had been a roller coaster, he might have been looking out on a loop for his stomach coming back the other way. “Aye,” said Sean Cassidy, then immediately began to worry that it might not have been the best word he could have chosen as an answer, under the circumstances. For he’d not meant to imply some kind of opinion that she had no place standing in the way of Artie and Leech, if she had…

…bollocks. He’d just have to try that again, wouldn’t he?

“…er… aye,” he retried, which wasn’t actually better, he did know that, but he was working on it, “That’s fairly spoken, Emma.”

Jaysis. Maybe he’d be better just never opening his mouth again. Emma was sighing, too, but then it seemed back to a crisp, efficient matter of business just the next moment. “We should meet later,” she declared, with an authority that Sean certainly didn’t feel it was in his power to argue with just at this moment, not least because he did know she was entirely right about that. “It’s clear that we need to discuss just what sort of school we wish to run from here on as well as which needs we're best equipped to address.”

Jaysis. Though, and again, when she was right, she wasn’t wrong, and he couldn’t sit here and pretend she was wrong about that, after what he’d said, and what he’d realized he hadn’t been letting himself realize all this time. “Aye,” Sean agreed. Maybe with just a wee tinge of lingering reluctance, because even knowing it was necessary wasn’t enough to make the idea of thinking about all the things he hadn’t been thinking about while he’d been running from one thing to the next all this week any more palatable than it was. But he did agree.

And given that it was necessary, like it or no, he’d do his best to face up to it, and do what he needed. “You’re right, of course,” he added, with more conviction. “Later then.” Once they’d both - but perhaps especially him, seeing as Emma sounded like she’d been thinking through what she was doing and what she wanted them to do a good deal more than he had - had a chance to wake up and get their own thoughts together. “That’s something that does need to happen.” Jaysis, you’re repeating yourself again, Cassidy. You do know that, don’t you?

But… aye. It did need to happen. He’d be thankful that Emma had been the one to offer that to be later, so that he could have a little time to gather his thoughts - and aye, his wishes too - into something that he could put words to.

Thinking that… well, no sooner had he thought that, than Sean realized that his gaze had turned again, all of its own accord, so that he was resting his eyes on the woman beside him. Not his colleague, but the woman he'd loved for years now, and never stopped loving through all of it. It meant softer in gaze, but with a wee bit more trepidation too, if he cared to admit it.

“I-“ he began, still looking at Moira, only to have his tongue fail him utterly for a second or so, leaving him floundering and wondering where all the years of knowing her like another part of himself had gone. Had he lost that all, this last year?

God, but he hoped not. “Do you think…” he started again, getting that much farther this time before the awkward caught up with him again, sending his gaze out to the window. Lighter again out there now, the pinks fading back into a more day-like coloring, taking the neat lines of beds and trees in the nearest parts of the garden into a world of color rather than purely dark shapes. “It looks like the sun will be on the garden soon, Lass,” Sean said, then looked back at her. Wondering if she still remembered the way those paths had seemed like a place made for them and then alone, at just this time of day, back in those earliest days of knowing her.

The way those memories felt, that hadn’t changed at all, no matter what they’d learned this week. At least not for him. “Would you…” Sean began to ask her, forgetting for a moment that anything else might have existed in the kitchen except Moira MacTaggert, then catching himself with half a start, “…I mean, I’d…” god, how much of an eejit could he paint himself in one conversation? Was there any way to save this? Probably not, nay. “I’d still like to hear about them,” he finished.

Not feeling like it was enough, but… well, it was what he had.
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Moira MacTaggert
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And there was Emma, sliding back to her fundamental bag of tricks. Innuendo and coquetry. Pursing her lips in distaste and no small amount of disapproval, wished for her coffee again, and waited for Emma to tire of whatever poking and prodding she was about now.

Nothing to be served and nothing to be gained and it was past becoming tiresome as the woman tried to lead them into loops of discussion, turning this way and that and likely hoping to bring them to a point where they'd no idea which was up and which was down and which was sideways. How in the good lord's name did Sean deal with the woman and her constant machinations?

He was a good man with a good and charitable soul, for a fact, and Moira knew what he did and what he put up with was for the sake of the children in his care. But the woman could surely try the patience of even the most charitable saint.

All of this - this running about in circles - over what should have been an easy matter to decide. The best thing for the children that were, in fact, stuck right into the middle of the present mess by no doing of their own. And if the White Queen thought it'd not affect them, then she'd not even the IQ that Moria had given her at least a modicum of credit for.

"It sounds like we should discuss the matter regardless," she replied now that she was done, for the moment, with her flirtings and her intimations that Sean should've run to inform her of any questions regarding Artie and Leech. Even in the middle of the night, as if barely dawn was days too late.

“Well… aye,” Sean nodded, perhaps with a little more uncertainty that Moira could hardly blame him for. Like walking a maze with traps lying in wait, conversing with Emma. “At least I think we should,” he added, probably in hopes of firming that up. Though it'd likely do no good.

And Moira herself could add her own bit to that. Whatever concerns Emma might have about bouncing those two boys about over and over again (a thing she couldn't imagine Sue and Reed Richards would be any more keen on than anyone else), it was easy enough to be certain the Fantastic Four would happily allay. They'd not have offered if they were not prepared to take it on in full.

Frankly, if it was the welfare of those two boys Emma was truly concerned with, then you'd think it would be a welcome offer. And, aye, she saw that hint of a look hovering about Sean's face there next to her, but it deterred her not one bit. She'd never been one to mince about with words and she'd not start now.

”You know very well it's never that simple,” was all Emma answered, though it seemed to Moira that, in this case at least, it was entirely that simple. The offer had been made, it would be the best to give those young boys a family instead of a school, so it only waited to be accepted. T'was Emma's own stubbornness standing in the way and nothing more.

"I can't say that I do," the geneticist countered, though the White Queen was already moving on, turning back to Sean with, ”I will be speaking with the Richards' and am quite interested in what they have to offer. If the Artie and Leech agree that this is what they wish to do, far be it from me to stand in their way.”

Perhaps that was a bit of progress, but Moira MacTaggert did wonder if the woman thought Susan Richards, or Reed Richards, either for that matter, would allow her to lead them the garden path as she seemed to want to do this morning.

“Aye,” said Sean Cassidy, to this newest complete turn about, seeming to be stuck at that for a moment, “…er… aye,” he retried, which got him not much farther. And the, “That’s fairly spoken, Emma.” Which was well enough, though it drew a sigh from Emma Frost for all of that as she jumped to the next thing.

“We should meet later,” she declared as though she'd been running it all all along. “It’s clear that we need to discuss just what sort of school we wish to run from here on as well as which needs we're best equipped to address.”

And that was something Moira herself couldn't find fault with as she looked briefly and sidelong to Sean. Aye, there was discussions to be had. That was certain. But not only ones involving Emma herself. This morning had brought a few ideas of her own, but they weren't ones she'd an interest in putting into this discussion that she was ready to be done with.

It'd been meant to be a breakfast for her and for Sean and for talk of other things and they were things she'd like to turn back to when this was done.

“Aye,” Sean agreed again, this time perhaps a bit circumspectly. “You’re right, of course,” he added, with more conviction. “Later then.” And she did wonder what twists and turns the woman might have waiting for him once she'd had ample time to think it over. “That’s something that does need to happen.”

Aye, well, that was a thing Moira could certainly agree with, but before she could think farther about it than that Sean's eyes turned her way. She watched it soften, as she'd often seen it do, and it suffused something warm in the middle of her chest. Oh, aye, she'd missed him and no doubt of that.

“I-“ he began but that was all for a moment. “Do you think…” he started again, only to stop once more. Och, had they been so long apart that they'd lost the knack of speaking to each other? Nay, she'd not believe that. Mayhap it was a bit rusty from disuse, but it still had to be there and the auburn-haired woman felt a smile tugging at her lips.

Tongue tied as he seemed to be, even now she couldn't help seeing the charm in that. And then he was looking toward the gardens, splashes of color now in the early morning light, and a great many memories of a great many mornings welled up to the front of her mind.

“It looks like the sun will be on the garden soon, Lass,” Sean said, then looked back at her as that hint of a smile on her own face became something more than a hint.

"That it does, Sean," she acknowledged, her own eyes drifting that way again before returning to his familiar blue ones. How many days had they seen that garden in the early morning sun? Too many to count, but each one was a clear and separate memory. A cherished one, from the days she'd first come to realize she was for him, almost to her own surprise.

“Would you…” Sean began to ask her, and she forgot about Emma Frost, sitting not a foot away as the man she'd loved since those early days fumbled his way along, “…I mean, I’d…” he tried again and her smile softened and made itself at home on her face. What more compliment could a woman want for than to turn a man into a fumbling, stuttering simpleton over a simple question? “I’d still like to hear about them,” he finished and, aye, he was a sweet man, too. No doubting of that. He'd always been and she'd always felt lucky to have found him.

"And I'd still like to tell you," Moira answered softly, reaching out to lay her hand over his. "Walk with me in the gardens, Sean Cassidy. It's a fine morning for it."

The telling would be easier for that, and for the company, and for the memories of those winding paths that had been, and still were, their own. Not even Charles and the mess he'd left them all with could taint that.
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White Queen
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Moira couldn't possibly think it was that simple. All of them knew better, or they should.

"I can't say that I do," the older woman said, as if she expected Emma to turn around and hand the children over like party favors.

Factors would need to be considered. Variables that could call into question whether the Richards would, in fact, be a family, much less make a more suitable and permanent home than the one Emma and Sean had tried to provide Artie and Leech. And there were procedures to follow. Formalities. One did not just hand children off to a new family just because it was generally accepted that they were better caretakers.

There would be questions. They could be sure of that. Emma was not going to take it as a given that Artie and Leech would be better off if they shipped them off to yet another home. After all Moira had said to impress upon Emma her reluctance to take things for granted under the current state of things, she had no business judging Emma for applying that policy. Especially when the welfare of two children was concerned.

Most important of all, and thus far only implied, was how Artie and Leech felt about the idea. If they truly wished to leave the Academy and live with the Richards, of course Emma wouldn't stand between them and that wish. They were under Emma and Sean's care. Not hostages.

“Aye,” Sean agreed, sounding rather at a loss for words. And what did he mean by that, Emma wondered. “…er… aye,” he said, after hesitating to, Emma had assumed, rethink his words. She arched a brow as she pondered whether or not to be irritated by this. “That’s fairly spoken, Emma.”

Was that what he wanted her to know? Or was that simply the best he could manage when he couldn't summon up a new reason to make Emma's stance conveniently flawed?

Perhaps he was right. It was too early for these matters. The bias and suspicion Emma had initially believed colored the reception her suggestions had been met with may have been exacerbated by the early hour. It had, however, brought to light even deeper concerns. Ones that would also need to be addressed, because they would define what they intended to do from this point on.

But later. When they'd both had time to think and were prepared to respond to each other's thoughts and ideas based on their merits.

“Aye,” Sean agreed, sounding very much like he wasn't looking forward to that discussion, no matter how long they put it off. “You’re right, of course,” he then said, and though his voice carried more conviction, he still managed to steal away any possible satisfaction there might have been had in hearing those words. “Later then. That’s something that does need to happen.”

Emma did hope he found more enthusiasm for it later, if not for his own sake and peace of mind, than that of the children.

What followed next was a display of looks and fumbled words between Sean and Moira so unbecoming of both of them Emma could barely stand it. Dignity didn't so much walk out the door as detonate with the force of an atomic bomb.

Not that either of them seemed to notice, wrapped up as they were in the garden and the sunlight and walking and for the love of all that was decent could someone make it stop before Emma had no choice but to weep openly?

Emma rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise. "Somebody please make it stop," she announced to nobody in particular, rolling her eyes dramatically. She looked at both of them, shaking her head as she stepped away from the counter. "Never mind, I've better things to do than watch two supposedly grown adult minds turn to mush before my eyes."

She breezed her way to the doorway, her nightgown swirling about her with each precise step. "Don't worry about breakfast," she added, not bothering to look over her shoulder. "I've quite lost my appetite."

Not bothering to wait for a response, Emma evacuated into the hall. Not even expecting one. They were probably still losing themselves in each other's eyes or some other such nonsense. How perfectly revolting. Emma vanished down the hall, not entirely caring where she went so long as it distanced her from such a display. Only finding solace in her own assurance that she had never and would never make such a fool of herself.
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Talking with Emma, about the future of what it was, exactly, that they were doing. Aye, that was something that needed to happen. Sean did know that. It was the right thing to do, and he’d always, his whole life, done his best to do that. Or at least the clearest he could see to what that was, although he hadn’t always been the best around at seeing just what that ought to have been.

He had to think about what he ought. Aye, and what he wished, too. Another point that Emma had likely been right about, though perhaps she hadn’t meant it the way that came to him then, and shook some scales out, and left him looking at Moira.

Not that he knew what to say to her, any more than he had that very first day that he’d met her and found her to be nothing like he’d ever expected her to be, and everything he’d ever wanted since. In fact, it felt a lot like that meeting, in spite of the memories of every last day of all the years they’d had together being there to tell him that he must have learned how to find his tongue around her at some point.

He… well, he wanted to ask her… but he couldn’t seem to pull the words together, and though he didn’t even want to think about how much of an eejit he must be seeming right now - to Emma, for she was likely still there watching this, as well as to Mo - Sean couldn’t help but thinking about it, and worrying a wee bit more because of it. Except that Moira MacTaggert was looking back at him, and he knew the pulling at her lips that was the sign of a smile beginning to form at them the same way he knew the back of his own hand.

Better, in fact. He’d never had much interest to summon for watching his knuckles, but Mo’s smile he could have watched all day for a week and still never been tired. Did she think…

…even with that to pull him though, he couldn’t quite keep his eyes steady on her. Instead he looked to the garden. That same garden that they’d walked through more times than were worth counting together. He wanted to ask her- well, if she remembered that. Not that he could get himself to say as much outright, but he could speak to the garden itself, and what the sun would soon be doing there, and hope that those were words that still had memories that felt real and true attached to them for her, too.

Then he looked at her, and saw her looking to that garden too, and Sean knew, even before she turned back to him, that he had. “That it does, Sean," she acknowledged, and in that moment, Sean Cassidy decided that maybe he did ken what it was Emma had been trying to say earlier about knowing what you wanted and doing it for the right reasons, whatever might have come before. Perhaps it was nothing like what she’d been meaning, but she and he, they weren’t alike.

She was speaking now, in fact - something about making it stop, but Sean’s eyes barely flickered toward her at the flash of white in his peripheral vision that said she was on the move. “Never mind, I've better things to do than watch two supposedly grown adult minds turn to mush before my eyes,” he did hear, but paid it only slight heed.

Perhaps she was right though, for his mind felt like something that might have been close to porridge as he looked back into the eyes of the woman he had loved, and did love, and fumbled his way toward a question that he couldn’t seem to find a way to utter the way he wanted to. The garden. They’d agreed that the garden would be in the sun soon, that had been the last they’d said to each other. Did she… if she… he meant…

There were more words floating about in what might as well have been the aether from his colleague. Something about breakfast, and an appetite - was she taking herself a doggy bag for later, maybe? - but Sean was hazy on the exact details, and only barely registered the fact that she seemed to have walked away and disappeared entirely from the room. In truth, he’d only barely have registered the fact of anything disappearing from this room right at this moment, up to (and likely including) the chair he was sitting on. With Moira smiling at him the way she was at this very moment, all of that might as well have been litter on a breeze.

How had it possibly been so long that he’d gone so long without talking to her? Really talking to her, that was. Knowing what he could of what was going on in that brilliant mind she had behind the warm, intelligent pair of green eyes that met his. Finishing that conversation they’d been on the cusp of beginning when Emma had appeared, the one about the four young students she’d never known she’d lost until they’d appeared again in her life. He did want to hear about them. From her, rather than from anyone else.

“And I'd still like to tell you," Moira answered softly, reaching out to lay her hand over his. "Walk with me in the gardens, Sean Cassidy. It's a fine morning for it.”

Sean turned his hand over, curling it around hers and clasping her fingers lightly. “Aye, I’d like that,” he told her. Simply, for it was a simple thing, the same way that he was and always had been a simple man. It was exactly what he wished to be doing with himself. And he rose from his chair, taking her hand and its slim, delicate fingers with him in his larger one, and looked out once more on the rose-tinged light that was filtering in through the windows. “It looks like it’ll be a bright day coming.”

The sun was rising, and here they were. They might just be able to work the rest out from there, after all.

[Fin]
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