Bahir
6/26/2009
The hotel where Natalie is tucked away is rather nicer than her apartment in the same city ever was. She lies sprawled on the bed, stretched out on her belly with feet kicked up behind her, bare toes wiggling as the air conditioner sluices through the room and takes it down to absurdly chilled temperatures. Her laptop has already been unpacked, left on the desk near one high window, but her bag remains untouched on the luggage rack. Cell phone in hand, she peers absently down at the room service options as she waits for the ring to stop ringing.
It stops ringing somewhere between four and five, with Bahir's voice surprised on the other end: "Hey!" It is a good surprise. Trapped deep in the web of the analysis complex, he rises from his chair with a quick glance around. Bothering people? Oh, darn. "Hi, Natalie."
"Yo," says Natalie in return, an amused smile warming her voice despite the chill of the room. The air conditioner is really overly ambitious. "So I need some help," she continues, voice lapsing into sing-song. "Do I want Thai for dinner, do you think? Or maybe Indian? I hear there's this really great Chinese place around the corner, too..."
Bahir's voice flattens right out, mashed down into a thin wire: "I hate you so much." He draws a breath, holds it, and turns to weave his way out as he sighs. "Indian, I think."
"Be nice!" Natalie objects, flipping over to her back and wiggling off the end of the bed to wander the room in search of the temperature controls. "Else I won't bring anything back for you." There's a pause as she considers absently. "Indian? Really?"
"Well, Thai. You know. If you've had basil and lemongrass over duck once, you've had it a hundred--" Bahir breaks off, then he says, "You know what, go for Thai."
Natalie grins as she fiddles with the dial, edging it up slightly before leaning in to squint at the controls more closely. "Thai it is," she answers chipperly before pulling back. Her voice drops slightly more serious as she says, "So. Outside of a complete lack of Thai. How are things?"
Bahir scratches along his jaw, a brief, thoughtful silence breaking into a measured, "Progressing. We should be wrapping up the current problem in a day or so. You know: field trip time. What about New York? Still there? No mutant has blown it up yet? Or is that 'again'?"
"Eh," Natalie says on the matter of blowing up as she drops back down to the bed with a flop. "Still here, anyway. Same old." Despite the words, there's a sort of wistfulness in her voice as she says it, lingering on the words. "Home sweet home."
"Remind me about the crowded streets, chaotic subway, impossible taxis, and choking air," Bahir says, taking the wistfulness in her voice and reflecting it in a distorted exaggeration.
"It's gorgeous," Natalie answers, standing again to wander toward the window. She lifts one hand to peel the curtain back, staring out over the lights that sparkle in the night. "I'm on the fifteenth floor, near Tompkins Square. The view is incrediable."
Bahir makes a little noise, kind of like a whimper. A MANLY whimper. "I miss that. The views. I'll send you a picture of some trees in exchange if you snap a picture out your window."
Natalie smiles slowly, but it's not a terribly /happy/ smile. "You know, I never thought I'd really miss it," she admits, leaning her forehead against the cool window. "It's not really a very good place, is it? And yet..."
"I liked it. I don't know. I didn't really think I would. I mean, dropping a hick telepath into the middle of a crowded city?" Yes, HICK. HICK HICK HICK. Bahir is of such humble origins. "But there's something about it. Just don't let it suck you back in."
Natalie laughs quietly, letting the curtain fall back for a moment before she rethinks it and pulls it wide, letting the light polution spill in through her window with all its sparkle and glitz. "I don't think the view can manage it," she answers. "The research facilities, though..."
"Go by the SRC at all?" Bahir asks, some actual wist touching his tone, there. "Still standing? Hasn't been blow up by protestors, or an experiment gone wrong?"
"Not yet," Natalie answers, dropping back to the bed to stretch out on her stomach once more. "I will before I leave, probably. I just got in this morning, and I spent most of it getting a tour of Tompskin's Square. It's... pretty impressive."
"Turn you on?" Bahir not-quite-teases.
"You have /no/ idea," Natalie returns, her voice dropped low in a wistful almost-purr.
Bahir's demand is quick: "Tell me about it!" Story time!
"Seriously, the money they have behind this place," Natalie answers, breathless with glee. "And," she says, pausing after the word for emphasis. "I had lunch. With Dr. Range, Dr. Lee, /and/ Dr. Mahtre." Clearly Bahir should know these names.
Bahir snorts under his breath and then warms up false enthusiasm: "Range, Lee, /and/ Mahtre? Oo-la-la." It would take real effort to find any other time in his life he sounded sillier than a mockingly delighted oo-la-la.
"Yeah, you keep being an asshole," Natalie suggests easily. "I'm getting an in-depth tour tomorrow, including the areas I couldn't have /touched/ if I were really working here. Everything they know about that hole? At my freaking /fingertips/."
"Nice. How far have they gotten with it?" Bahir asks, curiosity sharp. "They pull anything together over there that I'd be interested in?"
"Ask me tomorrow," Natalie answers, her grin evident in her voice as she wiggles back against over-plush pillows on the bed. "They're making me sign paperwork. I'm not sure what that means. That they've found a lot, or nothing."
"/Paperwork/." Bahir sighs. "That means if I ask you tomorrow, you'll just change the subject."
"It means that if you ask me tomorrow, I'll change the subject," Natalie agrees reluctantly. "But-- we'll see what it says, yeah?" There's a pause, and then she asks, "So-- what's this thing you guys are working on? I mean, I've been skimming the reports through email but..."
"Clones. Evil telepaths." Bahir pinches the bridge of his nose and then sighs. "You know. Same ol', same ol'."
There's a moment of blank silence before Natalie answers, "Telepaths? /Seriously/?"
"I don't know. Something similar. In that family. I doubt it is a full telepath, but you try telling people the difference and watch it go sailing through the empty space between their ears," Bahir says, a little sour.
Natalie snorts at that, her voice crackling with lazy amusement. "Right," she says, and then wonders absently, "I wonder where their brain lights up. A close relation, you think? Psi center?"
Bahir grins. He doesn't laugh, so it is only the warmth of his voice that communicates his humor. "Why don't we ask whoever it is to sit down for a study? You could publish a follow-up to your first. Further refinements for more specific imaging details."
"Don't tease," Natalie answers, expression caught in wistful yearning.
"I would never." Bahir is quiet a moment, then picks up again, "You know that Bianca chick at all? Former NYPD? She was pushing me to pick up my research again. I think she hopes for a latex lab assistant outfit."
"No?" Natalie reminds, her leaning her head back as she lets her eyes drift closed. "There's a whole freaking /slew/ of dossiers I haven't even touched-- when the hell does she think you're going to start researching?"
"I want to pick up with what I was working on before," Bahir says, tipping his head back and trailing off.
"Yeah, well," Natalie answers. There's a long span of silence before she allows, "Me too." Another, shorter span, and she wonders hopefully, "Do you think with all these new people...?"
"What?" Bahir fails at reading minds, prompting Natalie for an end to her question.
"You know," Natalie answers, hedging a little. "Free time."
Bahir sighs wistfully.
"No?" Natalie deflates slightly, slouching into her pillows.
"A bit, probably," Bahir allows. "Especially with Tom able to pick up more and more of the telepath slack." A wriggle of unease slithers through his words, and then folds away.
"Tom?" The surprise laced through Natalie's voice is not subtle. "/Really/?"
"Yeah." The discomfort clear, Bahir says, "He's really advanced quickly these past few months. It's easy to forget, sometimes--."
"Has he-- have any of them-- said anything?" she wonders, carefully.
"About what happened?" Bahir shakes his head -- but she can't hear that, so he adds, "No."
"Shit." Natalie scrubs her face, rubbing across nose and mouth and resettling her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "He's never said anything about my offer. I should probably ask one of the others, I suppose, but-- I wanted to give him time to decide. You know."
Dry, Bahir says, "It's been a while. That's a lot of time to get through just hopping back that far. Still -- I think it's safe to say that there were strong emotions."
"The hopping isn't that hard," Natalie answers. "I mean, pinpointing yesterday isn't that much easier than pinpointing a month ago. You'd think it would be, but..." She shrugs, silent on the other side of the line, and adds, "I was assuming the emotion. That may not be a good thing, though."
The tip of his head is echoed in a thoughtful turn to his voice: Bahir asks, "Why not?"
"The type of emotion that I usually deal with doesn't mean /good/ ghosts," Natalie answers dryly.
"Well." Bahir can't argue that. "You know, at this point, I'd almost wonder if I wanted it back. They are moving forward, aren't they? In a pretty fucked up way, but."
"That's why I gave him the choice," Natalie answers, the quiet of her tone suggesting that she's not sure it's the best of ideas herself. "It's... I mean. I don't know. I think I'd want to know, myself. But."
"Yeah." Breath hissing, Bahir sighs. "Poor fucking kids."
"Yeah," Natalie echoes, then lapses into silence.
The silence builds between them before breaks it with an over-bright, "Well. At least you'll get Thai."
"I swear our lives weren't completely depressing once," Natalie answers in return.
Bahir snorts. "You're deluding yourself."
"There was a time when /my/ life wasn't completely depressing," Natalie retorts.
"Was there?" Bahir sounds surprised. "Infancy, maybe."
"Most of grad school," Natalie clarifies, her huff mostly feigned.
So very solemn, Bahir says, "And then you met me and it all went downhill."
"Yup!" Natalie answers, chipper enough. She flops sideways slightly and eyes the clock. "Speaking of." Or something. "I need to get dinner and make it to bed at a decent hour before stuff tomorrow. I just wanted to see how things were going. Talk to you later?"
"Enjoy your food, you bitch, while I'm eating peanut butter and jelly." JEALOUS, Bahir laughs through the words, then says, "Tell me what you can when you see all that awesome shit."
"I'll put your excellent new clearance level to good use," Natalie promises, her laugh matching his. "And if I'm feeling really nice, I'll bring you some take-out. Night, Bahir."
"Holding you to it!" Bahir stretches his arms over his head, then says, "Night, Natalie," and moves his thumb to the end button. Back to work? Naaaaaaah. He'll nap and dream of take-out.
Phone call
The hotel where Natalie is tucked away is rather nicer than her apartment in the same city ever was. She lies sprawled on the bed, stretched out on her belly with feet kicked up behind her, bare toes wiggling as the air conditioner sluices through the room and takes it down to absurdly chilled temperatures. Her laptop has already been unpacked, left on the desk near one high window, but her bag remains untouched on the luggage rack. Cell phone in hand, she peers absently down at the room service options as she waits for the ring to stop ringing.
It stops ringing somewhere between four and five, with Bahir's voice surprised on the other end: "Hey!" It is a good surprise. Trapped deep in the web of the analysis complex, he rises from his chair with a quick glance around. Bothering people? Oh, darn. "Hi, Natalie."
"Yo," says Natalie in return, an amused smile warming her voice despite the chill of the room. The air conditioner is really overly ambitious. "So I need some help," she continues, voice lapsing into sing-song. "Do I want Thai for dinner, do you think? Or maybe Indian? I hear there's this really great Chinese place around the corner, too..."
Bahir's voice flattens right out, mashed down into a thin wire: "I hate you so much." He draws a breath, holds it, and turns to weave his way out as he sighs. "Indian, I think."
"Be nice!" Natalie objects, flipping over to her back and wiggling off the end of the bed to wander the room in search of the temperature controls. "Else I won't bring anything back for you." There's a pause as she considers absently. "Indian? Really?"
"Well, Thai. You know. If you've had basil and lemongrass over duck once, you've had it a hundred--" Bahir breaks off, then he says, "You know what, go for Thai."
Natalie grins as she fiddles with the dial, edging it up slightly before leaning in to squint at the controls more closely. "Thai it is," she answers chipperly before pulling back. Her voice drops slightly more serious as she says, "So. Outside of a complete lack of Thai. How are things?"
Bahir scratches along his jaw, a brief, thoughtful silence breaking into a measured, "Progressing. We should be wrapping up the current problem in a day or so. You know: field trip time. What about New York? Still there? No mutant has blown it up yet? Or is that 'again'?"
"Eh," Natalie says on the matter of blowing up as she drops back down to the bed with a flop. "Still here, anyway. Same old." Despite the words, there's a sort of wistfulness in her voice as she says it, lingering on the words. "Home sweet home."
"Remind me about the crowded streets, chaotic subway, impossible taxis, and choking air," Bahir says, taking the wistfulness in her voice and reflecting it in a distorted exaggeration.
"It's gorgeous," Natalie answers, standing again to wander toward the window. She lifts one hand to peel the curtain back, staring out over the lights that sparkle in the night. "I'm on the fifteenth floor, near Tompkins Square. The view is incrediable."
Bahir makes a little noise, kind of like a whimper. A MANLY whimper. "I miss that. The views. I'll send you a picture of some trees in exchange if you snap a picture out your window."
Natalie smiles slowly, but it's not a terribly /happy/ smile. "You know, I never thought I'd really miss it," she admits, leaning her forehead against the cool window. "It's not really a very good place, is it? And yet..."
"I liked it. I don't know. I didn't really think I would. I mean, dropping a hick telepath into the middle of a crowded city?" Yes, HICK. HICK HICK HICK. Bahir is of such humble origins. "But there's something about it. Just don't let it suck you back in."
Natalie laughs quietly, letting the curtain fall back for a moment before she rethinks it and pulls it wide, letting the light polution spill in through her window with all its sparkle and glitz. "I don't think the view can manage it," she answers. "The research facilities, though..."
"Go by the SRC at all?" Bahir asks, some actual wist touching his tone, there. "Still standing? Hasn't been blow up by protestors, or an experiment gone wrong?"
"Not yet," Natalie answers, dropping back to the bed to stretch out on her stomach once more. "I will before I leave, probably. I just got in this morning, and I spent most of it getting a tour of Tompskin's Square. It's... pretty impressive."
"Turn you on?" Bahir not-quite-teases.
"You have /no/ idea," Natalie returns, her voice dropped low in a wistful almost-purr.
Bahir's demand is quick: "Tell me about it!" Story time!
"Seriously, the money they have behind this place," Natalie answers, breathless with glee. "And," she says, pausing after the word for emphasis. "I had lunch. With Dr. Range, Dr. Lee, /and/ Dr. Mahtre." Clearly Bahir should know these names.
Bahir snorts under his breath and then warms up false enthusiasm: "Range, Lee, /and/ Mahtre? Oo-la-la." It would take real effort to find any other time in his life he sounded sillier than a mockingly delighted oo-la-la.
"Yeah, you keep being an asshole," Natalie suggests easily. "I'm getting an in-depth tour tomorrow, including the areas I couldn't have /touched/ if I were really working here. Everything they know about that hole? At my freaking /fingertips/."
"Nice. How far have they gotten with it?" Bahir asks, curiosity sharp. "They pull anything together over there that I'd be interested in?"
"Ask me tomorrow," Natalie answers, her grin evident in her voice as she wiggles back against over-plush pillows on the bed. "They're making me sign paperwork. I'm not sure what that means. That they've found a lot, or nothing."
"/Paperwork/." Bahir sighs. "That means if I ask you tomorrow, you'll just change the subject."
"It means that if you ask me tomorrow, I'll change the subject," Natalie agrees reluctantly. "But-- we'll see what it says, yeah?" There's a pause, and then she asks, "So-- what's this thing you guys are working on? I mean, I've been skimming the reports through email but..."
"Clones. Evil telepaths." Bahir pinches the bridge of his nose and then sighs. "You know. Same ol', same ol'."
There's a moment of blank silence before Natalie answers, "Telepaths? /Seriously/?"
"I don't know. Something similar. In that family. I doubt it is a full telepath, but you try telling people the difference and watch it go sailing through the empty space between their ears," Bahir says, a little sour.
Natalie snorts at that, her voice crackling with lazy amusement. "Right," she says, and then wonders absently, "I wonder where their brain lights up. A close relation, you think? Psi center?"
Bahir grins. He doesn't laugh, so it is only the warmth of his voice that communicates his humor. "Why don't we ask whoever it is to sit down for a study? You could publish a follow-up to your first. Further refinements for more specific imaging details."
"Don't tease," Natalie answers, expression caught in wistful yearning.
"I would never." Bahir is quiet a moment, then picks up again, "You know that Bianca chick at all? Former NYPD? She was pushing me to pick up my research again. I think she hopes for a latex lab assistant outfit."
"No?" Natalie reminds, her leaning her head back as she lets her eyes drift closed. "There's a whole freaking /slew/ of dossiers I haven't even touched-- when the hell does she think you're going to start researching?"
"I want to pick up with what I was working on before," Bahir says, tipping his head back and trailing off.
"Yeah, well," Natalie answers. There's a long span of silence before she allows, "Me too." Another, shorter span, and she wonders hopefully, "Do you think with all these new people...?"
"What?" Bahir fails at reading minds, prompting Natalie for an end to her question.
"You know," Natalie answers, hedging a little. "Free time."
Bahir sighs wistfully.
"No?" Natalie deflates slightly, slouching into her pillows.
"A bit, probably," Bahir allows. "Especially with Tom able to pick up more and more of the telepath slack." A wriggle of unease slithers through his words, and then folds away.
"Tom?" The surprise laced through Natalie's voice is not subtle. "/Really/?"
"Yeah." The discomfort clear, Bahir says, "He's really advanced quickly these past few months. It's easy to forget, sometimes--."
"Has he-- have any of them-- said anything?" she wonders, carefully.
"About what happened?" Bahir shakes his head -- but she can't hear that, so he adds, "No."
"Shit." Natalie scrubs her face, rubbing across nose and mouth and resettling her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "He's never said anything about my offer. I should probably ask one of the others, I suppose, but-- I wanted to give him time to decide. You know."
Dry, Bahir says, "It's been a while. That's a lot of time to get through just hopping back that far. Still -- I think it's safe to say that there were strong emotions."
"The hopping isn't that hard," Natalie answers. "I mean, pinpointing yesterday isn't that much easier than pinpointing a month ago. You'd think it would be, but..." She shrugs, silent on the other side of the line, and adds, "I was assuming the emotion. That may not be a good thing, though."
The tip of his head is echoed in a thoughtful turn to his voice: Bahir asks, "Why not?"
"The type of emotion that I usually deal with doesn't mean /good/ ghosts," Natalie answers dryly.
"Well." Bahir can't argue that. "You know, at this point, I'd almost wonder if I wanted it back. They are moving forward, aren't they? In a pretty fucked up way, but."
"That's why I gave him the choice," Natalie answers, the quiet of her tone suggesting that she's not sure it's the best of ideas herself. "It's... I mean. I don't know. I think I'd want to know, myself. But."
"Yeah." Breath hissing, Bahir sighs. "Poor fucking kids."
"Yeah," Natalie echoes, then lapses into silence.
The silence builds between them before breaks it with an over-bright, "Well. At least you'll get Thai."
"I swear our lives weren't completely depressing once," Natalie answers in return.
Bahir snorts. "You're deluding yourself."
"There was a time when /my/ life wasn't completely depressing," Natalie retorts.
"Was there?" Bahir sounds surprised. "Infancy, maybe."
"Most of grad school," Natalie clarifies, her huff mostly feigned.
So very solemn, Bahir says, "And then you met me and it all went downhill."
"Yup!" Natalie answers, chipper enough. She flops sideways slightly and eyes the clock. "Speaking of." Or something. "I need to get dinner and make it to bed at a decent hour before stuff tomorrow. I just wanted to see how things were going. Talk to you later?"
"Enjoy your food, you bitch, while I'm eating peanut butter and jelly." JEALOUS, Bahir laughs through the words, then says, "Tell me what you can when you see all that awesome shit."
"I'll put your excellent new clearance level to good use," Natalie promises, her laugh matching his. "And if I'm feeling really nice, I'll bring you some take-out. Night, Bahir."
"Holding you to it!" Bahir stretches his arms over his head, then says, "Night, Natalie," and moves his thumb to the end button. Back to work? Naaaaaaah. He'll nap and dream of take-out.
Phone call