LOG: Betsy and Maddie, Wednesday. (Backdated)

[x-psylocke.livejournal.com]

Players: Betsy and Maddie
Time: Wednesday, May 18, 2005 (Backdated)
Subject: Girl talk.

Betsy walked down the hall of the faculty floor, turning the corridor and entering the faculty lounge. She entered purposefully into the room, plopping down on the couch next to Madelyn. "You're a hard woman to track, you know. Someone might even think you were busy and it wasn't work-related. What a scandal that could be if it weren't a horrid and false rumor."

Setting aside the printouts she was reading, Madelyn smiled. "Me? Having a life outside work? It's all a scurillous lie." There was a certain softness to her smile however, a degree of happiness that hadn't been there before. "You need to check your sources."

"Pesky thing with telepathy." Betsy quipped. "Can't check your sources when they don't know they're actually a source in the first place." Avoiding the look of mock horror she felt coming on, Betsy quickly corrected. "I didn't go fishing for information, either."

"That obvious, huh?" Madelyn said wryly, before looking a little concerned, for Betsy. "I'm sorry if I've been projecting - I need to work on shielding again, apparently."

"And I'm a horrible sneak," Betsy said, her lips somewhat pouty. "I'll forgive you for your loud commentary and you'll forgive me for not leaving my psychic earmuffs in my other pants."

Madelyn snickered at the turn of phrase. "Deal," she said, curling her legs up more comfortably beneath her. "So, do you want me to name names, or are you content to go with what you're picking up from my overloud brain?"

"I wouldn't be here if I wanted to sift through that noodle of yours," she said conversing with Maddie, heads together, like old school chums. "Please tell me it isn't Remy?" Betsy said in a hushed tone. "I mean, I'll be happy for you. But the man doesn't look like he's the faithful sort."

Madelyn choked on air. "No!" she exclaimed, loud enough to raise curious looks from the other couple of staff members in the lounge, going over final exam questions. Realising she was attracting attention, she lowered her voice. "God, no. I can't stand the man! And all we ever do is fight!"

"And snog," Betsy quickly added. "More snogging and there were also some interesting sessions along that way that were definitely more than snogging. So, he couldn't have been all that bad. But still," she said, shuddering. "Not the type to take home to mother."

Cheeks flaming, Madelyn made a head movement that was half way between a nod and a shudder. "Temporary insanity. Or something. Whatever it was, it's over. Over and done with and I'd prefer to not even think about it ever again?" The last was said almost pleadingly.

"Oh well, you're not being any fun." Betsy said, jokingly. "Alright, so do you want me to go through the list of available bachelors within these walls. So that I can watch you die of shame at all the curious possibilities, or are you going to save us the trouble and spill the gossip already."

"Fun is the last word I'd use," Madelyn said darkly, remebering that last scene with another shudder. She'd behaved appallingly. So had he, but she should have known better. And he'd been absolutely right about why it had happened in the first place. "Hank," she said at last, to forestall the crushing embarrassment lists would entail. Besides, Kurt would come up and she still felt a little guilty about him.

Betsy's mouth opened and closed a few times. She made an audible noise that somewhat sounded like Hank, but it could've also been a squeak. "Yes, well. Right....Hank."

Madelyn raised her eyebrow, not expecting the response and hoping this wasn't going to turn into another round of defending Hank's humanity to someone she thought was a friend. It had been enough with Haroun. "Yes, Hank. Is there something wrong with that?"

"God, no," Betsy scrambled to explain herself. There was the definitive feeling of annoyance coming from Madelyn. "Don't pay me any mind, I've only had this set image of Hank as a dedicated scientist and now, a soon-to-be father. I'm simply going to have to make room for Hank the loverman." Betsy said thoughtfully. "Though his trouble with women far outdo my issues with men."

"That's why I got so defensive - so many people look at Hank and just see the fur and the size and the teeth, they don't consider him really human," Madelyn said with a sigh. "It's bad enough Hank doesn't think he's worth this... relationship, I suppose you'd call it, since neither of us is the one night stand type." Usually. Her brain cheerfully reminded her of Remy and a linen closet, and she hastily slammed the thought back down. "And he can be quite the romantic," she added, with a naughty grin. "If I let him I'd be buried in roses every day, I think."

"Mind you, that's not a bad way to go," Betsy asserted with a pinch to Madelyn's arm. She wasn't going to let the conversation stay in that dark realm any longer than it needed to be. "Hank will learn that he's a fool for thinking that way once he learns that you're not absolutely perfect. It's a hard lesson to learn, but I'm sure he'll manage."

"You mean I'm not?" Madelyn replied in mock-outrage, before breaking into giggles again. "I'm working on making him realise he's not the only lucky one - I've been terribly adolescent about this whole thing. If it wasn't for the fact we don't want to make certain other people feel bad..." And here she flashed Betsy a brief image of that dreadful conversation with Kurt. "We'd be appallingly cute in public."

"Oh," Betsy managed before clearing her throat. "I don't think Kurt would begrudge you and Hank your happiness on his account."

"I don't think he would too, but there's a difference between begrudging someone their happiness and those people rubbing your nose in it in public. At least this soon." Madelyn shrugged. "We're taking things slow, or as slow as we can. It's not just because of Kurt, although he is a factor - it's been a long time since either of us has been in this sort of situation, and neither of us wants to screw it up by wanting too much too fast." She gave Betsy a wry smile. "It's a juggling act. Being sensible, and not wanting Hank to think I'm ashamed of him, and the urge to just say to hell with being sensible and pouncing the man."

"Well," Betsy started, nodding her head understandbly. "I can see your reasoning, though most people aren't suppose to think when it comes to l'amour. You're suppose to snog." Then came the impish smile and a couch cushion directed both at Maddie.

"Who says there hasn't been?" Madelyn retorted, laughing as she held up a cushion shield.

Betsy pulled the cushion back. "Really?" She let the cushion fall into her lap, her eyes alight with mischief. Betsy's raised her hands going up into the air in mock indignation and feigned frustration. "At least someone is getting snogged 'round here. Good show, Mads."

"You're telling me there were no steamy romances during that sabbatical of yours?" Madelyn teased. "For shame."

Betsy's laughter died in her throat and she began coughing. Covering her mouth with her hand, she quickly waved off Maddie's concerned look. "Sorry," she said between deep gasps. "I don't know what came over me."

Open mouth, insert foot. Madelyn sighed a little. Talking with her FBI buddies, like Andrea, wasn't fraught with trauma like conversations in the mansion were. "I'm sorry, obviously I hit a nerve." She cuddled her shield-cushion against her stomach, wrapping her arms around it and searching for something to say. "So... plans? What now for Betsy Braddock?"

"No, no," Betsy finally managed. "You actually caught me offguard, is all. I haven't mentioned much of what I've did while I was gone and well...." She left the rest unsaid, but her expression said enough. There was someone, but it was complicated.

"You're a fabulously gorgeous woman, off on her own on a journey of self-discovery. It's the stuff of romance novels," Madelyn replied, regaining her teasing note but not entirely. There had been too many incidents that had left her feeling stupid lately for her to let
her guard entirely down. Too many reminders she was simply ordinary, and couldn't hope to understand the lives of her friends. "Tell you what - you tell me what you want to tell me and I'll nod and giggle in all the right places, hmm?"

Betsy shared a conspiratory look with Madelyn, then turned around and 'surveyed' the room. Feeling safisfied that no one was paying the women any mind, she moved closer to Madelyn. "How about I show you?"

Not giving Madelyn a chance to object, foreign images started to slowly slip in and out of Maddie's mind with meticulous care. There was the conscious effort not to overwhelm her friend until she became acclimated to the process. But that usually didn't take more than a mental note tabbed on the side of the astral plane, reminding her not to fry Maddie's brain.

The images began to snap pass with alarming speed, yet every one became ingrained into the doctor's memories. Betsy's departure from the Manor, her apartment in New York City, the flight back home to Malden. Her brothers were gone and yet, finding Gemma.....and finally Tom. Tom Lennox, the tall, blonde blue-eyed S.T.R.I.K.E agent. Betsy didn't hesitate to share her sentiment that before this moment, she prayed that she'd never see Tom again, let alone go off to Southeast Asia with him for two weeks. But regardless of her wishes, both actions came to pass. Their arguments grew out of habit and their one encounter caught both offguard. Betsy pulled the telepathic connection slowly, easing her friend out of the visual sideshow that was her life. She didn't reveal anything that would give away her reasons for going to the other side of the world and hoped Maddie would understand her need for privacy for now.

"Tom and I are....a bit complicated," Betsy said with forced restraint. "We've always been so antagonistic toward each other for years that when things changed....Well, neither one of us was quite sure what to do about it. For the most part, we've kept in touch since I've been back."

Madelyn blinked, clearing her vision even though it was her mind and not her physical vision. It was the weirdest sensation, having someone else's thoughts in her head. "Sometimes the anatagonism is a sign of something else," she said, steadfastly refusing to think of Remy. "Or so the myth of Unresolved Sexual Tension would have us believe." She grinned. "Staying in touch is good - I always got the impression you missed that part of your life."

"Oh, it was a sign of something," Betsy admitted ruefully. "I think we spent the better part of the trip afraid of getting too close again and then he had to leave. But not before he asked if I'd reconsider re-enlisting, we could go back to gathering Intelligence like we use to." She shared a forlorn smile with her friend. "And even though, I seriously thought on it, I'd be fooling myself into thinking I could be that person again. Too much has changed. And sometimes, I only wish it hadn't."

"There's no going back, no," Madelyn said ruefully. "I had my own bit of temptation while I was on vacation with being offered work at theh Bureau again. But as much as some parts of that life made much more sense, gave me a greater sense of purpose... I can't go back
to that, not the same way." She shrugged. "But it doesn't mean neither of us can't build on that, use some of what we know to make something new."

Betsy quirked an eyebrow at Maddie, her lips upturned in a good humored way. "When did you get to be all wise and knowing?"

"Me? All wise and knowing? Hardly - I just read a lot of fortune cookies," Madelyn replied in the same vein.

"And you still maintain that figure of yours," Betsy tsked. "Very unfair." Casually running a hand through her hair and letting it rest on her forehead, sighing. "I've taken leave of the X-Men and am joining Remy and Jake in Intel gathering."

"Good," Madelyn said, perhaps surprisingly. She grinned at Betsy's surprise. "Well, you've tried the X-Man and teacher route, and you're obviously not happy with either. Why not go back to something that uses what you know, what you feel comfortable with?"

"Partially because it ended so horribly the last go round," Betsy replied, softening the grim comment with a simple smile. "I know, I know," cutting Madelyn off and raising her hands in mock surrender. "It's all in the past. Nothing to worry about, whatsoever."

"What, me worry? It's only part of the job description after all," Madelyn joked before becoming serious again. Or slightly more serious. "I meant skills-wise, that sort of thing... I might be projecting my own issues, but it can be frustrating to have something to offer and not be able to. Not that it's an issue now," she amended hastily. "Once the taskforce winds down a bit, hopefully I'll be doing a bit of freelance work for the Bureau, use thoseforensic skills of mine before they atrophy completely. Maybe throw a bit of work your way?" she
suggested with a corny attempt at the kingpin voice. "My people talk to your people and we'll do lunch and all that?"

"I'd like that very much," Betsy said, laughing, clapping her friend's lap. "But for now, how about we do tea?"

"As long as it's not Earl Grey, I'm there," Madelyn said solemnly, before bursting into laughter once again.