Scott and Cain, Thursday afternoon

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

After a Danger Room session, Cain finds Scott working in the Situation Room. They have a rambling conversation about Alison's return to active status, Cain's temporary stint as a substitute XO, and the Budapest mission, among other subjects.


There wasn't a whole lot of typing involved in reviewing files, so Scott wasn't using Forge's voice-recognition program. One hand more than sufficed to scroll through the reports he was skimming, and when the mood hit him to add a little commentary of his own, he managed just fine, if slowly. His eyes flickered to his watch, then back to the screen as he put a notation on Sam's report from Hungary. Definitely need to work on some more scenarios with the flyers... He could have deployed them much more efficiently in Budapest.

"The boss's work is never done, eh Slim?" Cain joked as he leaned against the doorframe. His uniform jacket was unzipped, helping him cool off after a session in the Danger Room. While it took a superhuman level of effort for Marko to actually break a sweat, being blindsided by a barrage of flamethrowers usually did the trick as well. Brushing some soot off his shoulder, he smiled and pulled out a chair, sitting down across the table from Scott.

"So what's the word on the hand?" he asked with a serious tone, "You gonna be able to play piano again?"

Scott blinked and looked up at Cain, having been deeply enough in thought that getting jarred out of it was briefly disorienting. "No, but I couldn't before - that's the right answer, right?" he asked with a quick, wry smile. "Seriously, another week or so and it should be fine. How'd the scenario go?" The computer pinged at him. "Ah-hah. Never mind, there's the tape..."

Cain just remained silent, watching Scott's eyebrows raise a few times behind his glasses, and a smirk cross his face at the appropriate moments. Running a hand through his hair, Cain felt a few brittle strands flake and fall to the floor. "Yeah, I know. Invulnerable, fireproof outfit, but somehow my hair can still get set on fire. Very funny. Shoulda thought of that, since McCoy made me that little laser thingy to shave with."

Waiting until Scott turned away from the screen, Cain leaned back and laced his fingers together. "Got a question, off the record," he asked quietly. "You sure Alison's ready to go back on full active duty?"

Scott's smirk faded, and he didn't answer for a moment. "Yes and no," he said finally. "Yes because she's medically cleared and Charles cleared her on the psych evaluation, too. No... because it seems like rushing her, in my admittedly inexpert opinion, and because I'm just worried. But," he said, reaching out and closing and saving the window where Cain's scenario had been playing back, "what I do believe is that she knows what she's capable of right now, and if something comes up that she honestly doesn't believe she can handle she'll bow out."

"I worry," Cain admitted. "And don't misunderstand me, I know she's good at this, and I ain't taking nothing away from that. But this ain't the life she was used to, you know? Folks like Nate, this stuff's all he's ever known. Me, it ain't much different than the thick of stuff I been through. Hell, you ain't ever had much of a life outside this place, you were practically born to this." He tapped his large fingers nervously against the tabletop. "I think she knows that, and she pushes herself because of it. Like she's got something to prove."

"Sometimes, yeah," Scott said after a moment, consideringly. "But I think that helps her sometimes too, Cain. Grounds her, in a sense, because she's still got that distance between what she was doing with her life and what she's doing with it now." He shrugged, not entirely comfortable with sounding like he was trying to analyze Alison, but Cain had asked. "Gives her some perspective... anyhow. Charles will be keeping an eye on her. So will Ororo and I. I imagine this little vacation of hers will help, too - she had a taste of being back on duty over the weekend and now she'll have a little time to process that."

Cain just nodded deferentially, leaning back in his chair. "Just wanted to mention I was concerned. She does good work. Stubborn little broad, but that's what's getting her through this. You been at this longer than I have, you and 'Ro. So I trust your judgement here. Although," Cain said, wadding up a nearby piece of paper and throwing it at his CO, "that bullshit with saddling me with the XO tag in Utah? I'll get you back for that somehow."

Scott leaned out of the way of the paper missile, unable to help a smile. "An experiment," he protested. "Sam was... uh, well. I just figured I'd try something new. What are you complaining about? You had a little extra paperwork, but it wasn't as if we had much chance to do anything that day." The smile faded again as he reminded himself to check with the medstaff to see if there'd been any more news on the girl.

"I ain't looking to lead anyone," Cain insisted, clenching his hands unconsciously. "Ain't something I'm good at. I... shit," he dropped his head briefly, realizing what he had to admit to this ... this kid who was three and a half decades his junior. "I ain't a stranger to fighting, but that's what I do. I fight. I hit things, I break 'em. I don't necessarily know how to tell anyone else how to do their thing. That's... that's stuff you do. You and Alison and 'Ro. Put me in charge, I'm liable to get folks hurt or worse."

Scott liked to think that he could read people, but he'd be damned if he knew what precisely was behind this. And he wasn't about to fuck up the situation - any further? - by making any wild-ass guesses. "All right," he said more quietly. "We'll call it a one-time experiment, then. I mean, I'm hoping that this time my XO's new leaf is going to last for more than a few weeks-" Because he and Sam were definitely going to have to talk about the three strikes metaphor, if not. "-so hopefully I won't have the opportunity to experiment like that again."

Cain let out a long sigh of relief. "Thanks, Slim. I mean, I'll be honest. I ain't putting money down that you and me are ever gonna be buddies. There's too much of Chuck in you for that, and too much of me in me. But I know you wouldn't have done that just t' spite me, and I'm glad y' got faith in me like that. Now Sam? He's got the makings of a good officer, there. Just needs to get his head out of his ass."

"I know. It's why I picked him in the first place," Scott said, although he was starting to wonder just how fair that had been. Although he had been younger than Sam when Charles had... well, the X-Men hadn't precisely been what they were now back then, had they? "I think we're all making this up as we go along, to some extent," he said. "Learning, hopefully. And I really didn't tag you as temporary XO in Utah out of some sense of sadism - I figured Hank would have his hands full with the girl, so it was either you or Nathan, and you know, we're trying to discourage him from getting into the thick of things..."

"Fair enough," Cain nodded. He let a few moments pass, then grinned ferally. "I also happened to notice one of the nice doctor ladies walking a few inches off the ground since you came back from your little vacation. Rumor has it you're making an honest woman out of her?"

Oh, yes. This he'd been expecting. "Still levitating, is she? And yeah, rumor's got it right." Scott said dryly. "Just don't ask me if I'm reconciling that with her training for the team again, because that's very much a work in process. I'm hoping to be a little less ambivalent by the time she actually gets back up to active status."

"She used to be team before she died, right?" Cain asked rhetorically. Continuing with a smile, he explained, "Way I hear folks talk, she ain't half what she used to be, which is why you got her training instead of back in the leathers straight off. And the way I see it, you doin' her training ain't any different than putting Alison in a sparring match with Haroun. You're professional enough not to pull any punches with her."

It was a compliment, and Scott nodded, taking it as such. "She'll be back in the leathers soon enough, I'd imagine," he said with a faint smile. "Which, you know, has me over the moon in the professional sense. We could really use a second telepath, and we're down one distance-capable heavy-hitter with Lorna off at college..." At some point he was going to learn to shut off the part of his brain that spun out scenarios for team composition when it wasn't necessary. "Bobby won't be too long on the trainee roster either, I'm thinking. He's kept in better shape than I expected while he's been away."

"Another telepath," Cain said through clenched teeth, "just what we need." Which he had to admit was true in the practical sense, but the idea didn't fill him with any sort of glee.

Scott looked up at him, measuringly. "I know it's not your favorite mutation in the world," he said quietly, "but if nothing else, barring the occasional flying coatrack, it's enormously valuable from a communications standpoint. It's more... immediate than the coms, even in situations when there's nothing to stop us from using the coms. If you've got someone in trouble, like I was in Budapest, having back-up directed right to their location..." Scott paused, shaking his head. "Sorry. I know I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." He snorted softly. "Really got to work on this whole 'open mouth and lecture comes out' tendency."

"Part of why you're the boss," Cain said firmly. "This stuff? It occurs to you. Me, I just hate the idea of someone mucking around in my head if I can prevent it. But speaking of Budapest," Cain turned around to one of the auxiliary computers, using a pencil to slowly type in his access code. "You guys got pretty much floored by one man who had the advantage of terrain. Been plotting out some scenario ideas to train up for that."

"Oh, share. Please. I've had that damned mission running around and around in my head ever since. The more ideas the merrier." Scott shook his head. "That was pretty much the nightmare scenario, given the fuck-up on the part of the police when they sealed all those civilians in there..." There had apparently been consequences for that decision, according to Minister Barath's last email, which made Scott feel a whole lot better. "Nothing like trying to split limited manpower between evac and chasing down a psycho."

Painstakingly, Cain tapped the far-too-small keys, sending his notes over to Scott's computer. "Basically just taking the advantage of terrain away. Problem I saw was that you guys tried to take him down in his own backyard. Needed to get him somewhere he wasn't at an advantage. Closed quarters? He whupped each and every one of you until you ganged up on him and came out with the lumps for it." Cain pointed out locations circled in blue on the screen.

"If you'd've got blueprints first, you coulda figured which apartments were empty, enter that way, try and drag him outside where you weren't so cramped. Control over the battlefield, seen it in practice enough. The winner's usually the guy who decides WHERE the fight takes place."

"I rushed things." It wasn't something he had difficulty admitting; he and Ororo had talked it over and agreed that they should have gone with the slightly more judicious approach she'd proposed. "Let the situation stampede us into acting too fast, and I sure as hell didn't make proper use of the flyers." Scott slouched a little in his chair, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Well, you got banged up a bit, ain't any better teacher than pain." Cain leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head and kicking his boots up onto the table. "But you got everyone out alive. Again. Can't beat yourself up about that."

"Mmm. True, I guess," was the distracted-sounding reply as Scott reached out with his good hand, adding a few notes to the file. "This I think we can definitely work with, too. Fresh eyes - always a good thing." He looked back up at Cain. "You know, what I think I'll do is add some of my thoughts here and then kick it back to you and Sam to do the scenario design work, if you don't mind. Mostly because I'd like to run through it myself when it's done." He gave the older man a wry grin. "And it's no fun if I know all the parameters right from the get-go."

"Fair enough," Cain drawled, sliding to his feet and shaking the last bits of soot off his shoulders. "We'll try and keep you guessing."