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Wayhaven is thick with rain and fog when Ysabet hurries home, an early and abrupt end to the day, to pack. The notice had been short. Agent Moor had at least given her a couple hours’ notice. A bit better than last time. Maybe their relationship is improving somewhat.
That thought doesn’t hang about long. She has a rainy road to navigate, an attempt at remembering what things she put on to wash this morning, whether anything on the line will have dried with the humidity in the air- She sprints up the stairs, bundling her hair into a ponytail, and seizes her keys to let herself in.
The door is unlocked.
Ysabet stiffens, hand flying to her gun holster.
“Ah- it’s me, darling-” The voice muffled by the door makes her breath catch, if not in the usual way then in relief. She throws the door open, hand dropping from her firearm.
Nat stands in her living room, an apologetic look on his face. He has his neat little suitcase, to the side of the door, and her hiking pack out and sitting on the coffee table.
Ysabet crosses the room to kiss him, hands clasping his cheeks.
“You didn’t need to come help,” she scolds. “Terrible, considerate man.”
“I tried to call,” he apologises. “But there’s something wrong with this new phone they’ve given me- it’s worse than the last-”
“I’ll have a look later.” She kisses his cheek, and then swings away.
“Packing first,” he agrees with her unspoken decision.
“Tell me where we’re going. Or at least what to prepare for. Agent M- Rebecca didn’t give much.” She knows, as she heads into the bathroom, that the expression on his face must have flickered in that particular sympathetic tic, but they don’t have time to discuss Agent Moor’s reticence around her.
And Nate’s voice carries clear and comforting through the apartment behind her, as she starts gathering her toiletries together. “It will be cold. Thermals recommended- I can get them for you, if you like. And your armoured jacket would be an excellent idea to keep on at all times.”
Ysabet smiles. “Duly noted. The thermals got moved- they’re in the linen closet now.”
“Ah, excellent.”
They work in quick tandem. He can’t give much more about their destination, but she picks up that there won’t be much room for luxuries. Just the essentials. She sorts through damp trousers and ascertains which will suffer a quick tumble in the drier, wondering what ‘absolutely essential’ items Farah will have crammed into her luggage. Nate folds and packs what she brings to him, treating thermals and socks with the same delicate care he would give her dinner dresses.
She comes back to the living room to find him hesitating by her desk. The space is kept tidy, with a minimum of cables, but there’s still enough to bring a frown to Nate’s face.
“Do you need your laptop?” he asks regardless. She slips an arm around his waist as she considers. His arm comes instinctively about her shoulders
“I think I can go without. I’ve barely gotten used to this one- I don’t need it to go the way of the last.” That brings a full grimace to Nate’s face. He’d never thought he’d be so glad for a piece of technology, as when they’d discovered what had stopped the minotaur’s horn from goring through her backpack and into her back. He squeezes her shoulders gently. He'll keep better watch over her this time.
The door slams open.
“Let’s go!” Farah hollers through. “We’re gonna miss the train!”
“We’re taking a train?” Ysabet asks, eyebrows raising as she goes to scoop her phone charger into the backpack and zip it up. She’d gotten changed to travel as she’d packed, solid boots and a comfortable hoodie an unglamourous but practical look.
Nate greets Adam with a smile as he appears behind Farah. He gives Ysabet a brief look over, and gives a nod of approval.
“As soon as we arrive at the station,” he confirms. “Which will be in six hours-”
“Road trip and then train trip- are you bringing music? I’m bringing music-”
Adam’s voice raises to continue on regardless of Farah’s grinning chatter. “Agent Moor will be briefing us at the station. Farah, let’s go.” The two disappear from the doorway.
Ysabet hefts her backpack onto her back. Nate does a round of the apartment, turning off lights, before joining her at the door. “It’s been years since I caught the train. Not since I was a kid.”
“Really-?” Nate blinks. “Oh- …I’m afraid this one won’t be particularly luxurious.”
“That’s alright.” She locks the apartment door, leans up to kiss him. “I don’t need luxury. Not with good company. And not with a job to hurry to.”
He laces his fingers with hers, and raises them to brush a kiss to her knuckles. “Well then. Perhaps when we’re done, Miss Mirour-Moor, we can see about giving you the luxury you do indeed deserve.”
Ysabet’s heart flutters-
And Morgan’s groan cuts through the moment. “Come on,” she growls at the two of them. “Adam’s about ready to strangle Farah.”
Ysabet’s cheeks are warm as she laughs, and pulls Nate along to the stairs.