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It's late. Midnight, perhaps later, and Moira is sleepless. Partially the heat of the summer, partially worry for the students, for the world, partially just one of those nights. She's rarely intruded on his personal space, doing her best to keep some modicum of professional distance around the students, but he was really the only person in this place she trusted, much less cared about like that. So, just in her night gown, she's crept down the hall to his bedroom. She raps very lightly against the door, not wanting to wake him if he's asleep. "…Charles?" She murmurs, ever so softly.
*
"Come in, Moira," Charles says loud enough so that she can hear. Rather than in bed, he's hard at work at his desk. Jean apparently had some sort of melt down today, though he's letting her rest before he handles it. Raven is on the loose and getting worse all the time. Another day, more protests. Worst of all, the recent discovery at the clinic seems to be giving some of the X-men troubling thoughts. Now a stranger, brought by Rogue, showed up in the hallway. It's a lot for someone to take.
*
The woman gently pushes the door open with her free hand, the other ever present against that crutch. She slips into the room with barely a brush of air, quiet in her long, cream satin night gown, her dark hair down around her pale features. Moira shuts the door behind her with a click and frowns, looking him over, "…Working this late? You are going to work yourself to death at this rate, Charles…" She murmurs gently, limping in his direction so she can at least perch on the edge of the bed nearest him.
*
Xavier smiles softly as he sits back in his chair and looks to her. "If something else does not get me first, of course." He exhales, zoning out from work for just a moment. "I am terribly sorry. I did not mean to be rude. Are you alright?"
*
THAT comment is enough to draw a dead flat look from her, the smirk across her unpainted lips saying he's not funny. Moira sighs and stands up a heartbeat later, almost as quick as she sat. SHe doesn't bother with the crutch, but makes it the small distance before leaning against the back of his chair. "Fine…just…couldn't sleep myself. Now tempted to just drag you to bed so we can BOTH get sleep. You need it. Probably more than I."
*
Xavier pulls his hand back to scratch at his head and tousle his head with his pencil, "It has, of course, been a long time since you and I shared a bed on purpose."
*
"…Would you rather I went away and left you to work?" Moira asks with a single arched brow, looking down at him, her expression honest and pointed. She has opened the door, made a none-too-subtle suggestion. Now the ball is in his court. She remains close to him, though, the warmth of her against his shoulder and the scent of her soap on the air.
*
"You know how I feel about you," Xavier replies. "That hasn't changed. You asked for time and space. I wanted to give you both. And I do not want for you to give into sentimentality or pity."
*
A low groan escapes her lips and Moira just leans down, lacing her hand into his and trying to tug him out of the chair physically. "For a psychic genius, you are incredibly dense sometimes. Come. To. Bed." Moira states with more force than he's seen out of her since she returned. It's the same sort of passion he saw from her when they had those initial arguments in the field. When she debated with him in the tavern.
*
"Well," Xavier says with a grin as he takes one hand to reach for the light on the desk. "I did do the gentlemanly thing and give you a choice…"
*
"I came into your room past midnight, Charles. I do not know that I could toss any larger hint if I had an anvil or a very large boulder." Moira states with a deep, amused smirk, leaning on him a touch as she tugs him back towards the bed now that the light is off. This close, it's clear her hair is still slightly damp from the shower and she smells like vanilla and lilacs.
*
Xavier slides up onto the bed next to her, smelling like old school manly cologne. Stetson or whatever your grandpa used to wear. "I have never been particularly good at deciphering that sort of thing. At least not without my powers. I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage."
*
"You can be the most…frustrating of men…" Moira states with a bit of a sigh, settling back into the bed with him, content to half lounge about his frame, her good leg draped over his, head against his shoulder. "How do I have you at a disadvantage? In truth. You are no different now than anyone else would be. Than *I* am when interacting with *you*. I would say we are equals."
*
"Well, it /is/ the 60s. People fight for equality every day," Xavier says with a clear smirk. "Of course I am frustrating. It is my most desirable trait. Clearly."
*
That earns his stomach a good smack, "Keep this up, I'm going back to my bed." Moira mostly teases, though she hasn't left his side yet. If anything, she twines a bit closer against him. No need for blankets on a night like this.
*
Xavier decides, in fact, to no longer be a punk. Instead he plants a peck upon her lips and repositions himself. "That sounds like a terrible idea."
*
That kiss, even if it's just a short peck, is enough to assuade her. No escape from the bed tonight. Moira tilts her head up for a deeper kiss, letting this one linger a bit longer before she settles back against the pillow and his shoulder again. "Mm…yes. And this bed is rather comfortable. Might even get some sleep… that is, if the other person in this bed would actually do the same…" The edge of her voice is tired too. It's late, it's been a long day… and the press of his warm frame is more relaxing than she'd care to admit.
*
Xavier returns the kiss slowly before brushing some hair back from her face. Rather than make the smart alec remark, Xavier simply kisses the top of her forehead and pulls her close as he nestles in. He could use some sleep as well.
*
"Good night, Charles…Get some rest. All these worries will be there tomorrow." Moira whispers agains the edge of his jaw, her voice just barely above a brush of breath. With that gentle reassurance, she does actually get a bit more comfortable against him — her arm draped over his waist, head on the edge of the pillow but her nose and breath lightly brush the edge of his shoulder.
*
"One less worry, perhaps," Xavier murmurs as he gives her a squeeze. He falls asleep quite easily.