xp_logs | Mutants and Molotovs: The Thin Black Line

Nathan, waiting for the Blackbird to land, has a brief and reassuring talk with the police captain waiting with him.

"What kind of aircraft are they flying?"

The question came from the police captain standing beside him in the open hangar, and Nathan gave him a brief smile. "A modified Blackbird," he said, and was moderately amused by the widening of the captain's eyes. "Very big. Very black."

The man gave a stifled snort. "Makes me wonder what kind of funding you people have..."

The captain's curiosity was intense. Nathan could hear him wondering, quite loudly, about who these 'specialists' were and just what it might take to incorporate them into the Seattle PD's current strategy for riot-control. Chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully, Nathan decided that yes, a combination of a shock and reassurance might be very useful here.

"We've worked joint operations before," he said, ignoring the way the captain jumped. "Last time, it was with Special Forces."

"Oh."

"And yes, I am a telepath." Nathan gave him a sideways look. "There won't be any problems with cooperation," he told the man. "And dealing with mutants in situations like this... well, it's one of the things for which we train most heavily."

The captain gazed back at him for a moment, then cracked a tiny smile. "Sorry. This just came out of the blue. Suppose I ought to be more appreciative of the fact that we're getting specialized help."

"We're all here for the same reason," Nathan said, quietly, but reassuringly. "And we are going to get this situation under control." Funny, to be the one doing the PR work. But the captain had seemed drawn to him, rather than Jean or Wanda, so he might as well make the most of the opportunity.

The other man met his eyes for a long moment, then nodded, the smile growing a little. "All right," he said, and then laughed almost ruefully. "I guess we are all in the same boat, aren't we?"

"I think at this rate, we're going to need the Ark," Nathan said as the rain falling just outside the open doors of the hangar started to come down even harder.

~*~

As the team's getting organized for deployment into the city, Scott and Jean have a last calm moment to muster their resolve.

"Here." Scott smiled very faintly at Jean as he handed over one of the black surcoats with 'Police' in white on the back. "Goes over your leathers," he said, half-turning so that she could see how he was wearing his. "They want to be able to identify us easily."

Jean nodded, shrugging into the jacket. "Seems reasonable, although one would have thought the leather bodysuits would do that, too."

"Too much individual variation," Scott said wryly, "and these are more easily visible in the dark. Which it is, out there." He gazed out the hangar door, frowning a little. Even here at the airfield, they could hear sirens and other alarming noises. The rest of the team was scattered here and there around the hangar, checking necessary gear, having last-minute conversations with partners if they'd been assigned them, or getting-to-know-you chats with the police officers they'd be working with. "The vans should be here in a couple of minutes."

"Yes, that's a good point," she agreed. Even if it did feel a bit like having a target painted on her back. Rioters were not well known for respecting visible, reachable authority figures. But better her than someone helpless. Resting her hands on her hips to keep from fidgeting, Jean let her eyes drift around the room, getting a feeling for everyone's minds again. "So," she said idly, "no more field trips for Nathan?"

"Absolutely none. He and I already established that. Okay, so it was more like me walking in here to have him project 'Never again' at me and getting 'You bet your ass' in return, but hey." The light tone was a little forced.

"Just so long as it's settled." She paused. "Damn it." Jean's voice didn't change from the idle, semi-distracted tone of before, but she started scowling. "Damn them all."

"Hey." Scott's voice was calm, and yet somehow bracing. He met her eyes, giving her a quick smile that was more reassurance than anything else. "Yeah, this is not the way any of us were hoping this summit would go. But we've got a real chance here to help make sure that things don't get any worse."

"I know," Jean said, sighing softly. "It just seems like everytime we make even a little progress somebody has to try and stop it."

"Look at me." He took her face between his hands, his expression gentle, yet firm. "Temporary derailment. That's all. And getting metaphorical trains back on their tracks is one of the reasons we exist, right?"

Jean reached up to clasp his hand to her cheek. "I know. I'm just... angry, I guess. Worried about the kids, too."

"They'll be fine. That was part of the deal," Scott said. "If anything happens, those Secret Service agents the President sent over will whisk them away."

"I know. Doesn't mean I'm not going to worry. Worrying about them is something of a hobby."

"Less worrying," Scott advised, "more focus." He looked back in the direction of the front of the hangar, taking a deep breath as he saw the vans pulling up. "You are, by the way, most definitely with me."

Jean nodded. "Gotcha, boss," she said and even managed a smile.

~*~