'So is everyone in this town a freak or just the lucky ones?"
The simple question seems to cause Nathan physical pain as he adjusts his position at the desk next to hers in their formally shared office. "Troubled, not freaks; we call them troubled. And no, so far as we can tell they only run in some families, not others."
There were times over the last few days when Audrey thinks she may be laying the Lexie act on too thick. What are the chances her newest incarnation would be so very much the polar opposite of her last one? But she need only remember the feel of the gun in her hands as Nathan had guided it to his heart to remind her of the necessity of her charade.
"What about you? You got a 'trouble'?" She twirls the ends of her still very unfamiliar hair in her fingers, a trait stolen from Tiffany Donovan the most obnoxious girl see can remember from St. Mary's orphanage.
"I can't feel anything," he answers simply.
"What? Nothing? Wicked," she says with amusement drawing out the last syllable as she imagines the real Lexie might. 'Miserable,' she thinks. "Must be nice for police work," 'like having nails shot into your back or shafts of wood thrust into your chest.' She shutters inwardly, remembering the warm sticky feeling of Nathan's blood on her hands. Twice now she's seen his chest opened with a fatal wound and she'll be damned if she's going to see it again.
"Not so great for sexy times though, huh?" She watches as he shuffles some more in his chair and wonders if he's even cognizant of the physical discomfort 'Lexie' is causing him. "Is that why things were so 'complicated' with you and Audrey?"
She shouldn't be asking these kinds of questions. Sure it's in keeping with the kind of crass forwardness Nathan's come to expect from Lexie, but she could be nettling him with a far more innocent line of questioning. But this is one of the unforeseen dangers of playing this character Audrey had not anticipated.
There was once a time when she didn't need a spy to look into Nathan Wuornos' mind. A raised eyebrow here and a monosyllable there and she knew exactly where his head was at, where his heart was. From the very beginning an intimacy existed between them that surpassed the physical and was stronger than any other she'd ever known, certainly from her own memories and she'd bet even in all her lifetimes before. But all of that had changed with the barn, with her need to sacrifice herself to end the troubles and keep him safe in the process. Now there was Colorado and 1955 and any number of secrets between them and the opportunity to use Lexie to peer behind his stoicism is far too strong to resist.
"Audrey was immune to the troubles. I could feel her touch," he says looking absently over his desk with a small smile. "I can feel yours too," the smile fades away as he finishes his thought turning to look at her almost with reproach.
"Is that why you loved her, cause you could feel her?" Audrey prays Nathan doesn't notice the breathless and very un-Lexie like way she's nearly whispered this last question. She'd never needed an answer to this question before, but still she finds she's scared of what he'll say. She only hopes Nathan will forgive her this conversation one day.
But clearly Nathan's lost in the moment as well because he answers almost immediately, "Touch isn't everything," staring down at his own senseless hands. "I don't know what it is that made Audrey Audrey, but I knew her. I loved her." Presumably remembering himself and who he's with, Nathan begins to shuffle the papers in front of him, "We should get back to work."
Audrey is thankful for the distraction a knock at the door brings as she takes the opportunity to get back into character.
"Hiya, Nathan," says Stan coming in with a coffee and pastry bag from Rosemary's. "Audrey," he continues with a nod in her direction. "I brought you a coffee," he says bringing the to-go cup to Nathan's desk, "and a muffin for you, Audrey." Stan seems to be struggling to look anywhere but at her rather revealing attire as he hands over the pastry, only to find himself fixated on the silver hoop in her nose.
"Thanks, Stan," says Nathan sincerely with a small smile at the other man's discomfort.
"No problem, Chie…Nathan," Stan fumbles. "It's good to have you back," he finishes closing he door to the office as he leaves.
Even as she's rolling her eyes at this exchange in her best Lexie impression, Audrey's chest is filling with gratitude for the loyal and kind Stan, one of the few people in this town to remember how much Nathan has given and sacrificed for Haven. Nathan must be similarly engaged with his thoughts as absent-mindedly he moves to bring the noticeably still scalding cup of coffee to his lips.
Instantly and automatically, Audrey is out of her seat and snatching the cup to bring a tentative sip to her lips. "Too hot," she proclaims moving to return the cup to Nathan. Her mistake is written all over his face. Always beautiful, it has taken on a radiance as his pale blue eyes widen and brim with hope and tentative recognition.
"Next time tell Officer Pervert there I take it with 2 creams and a sugar," she recovers keeping the cup for herself. She turns away quickly as much to keep from seeing his hope dashed as to keep him from seeing the heartbreak on her own face.
For the hundredth time since she'd been spit out on that field, she recalls the cold steel handle of a gun pressed against Nathan's heart to steady her resolve. She will have to do so much better if she is going to save him, if she is going to save them all. But as the saying goes old habits die hard.