Betsy and Jake.

[x-psylocke.livejournal.com]

After a few years away, Betsy and Jake play catch up.



After many tiring hours of trying to convince Hank she was all right. She managed to pry herself away, exhausted and wishing for her bed. Betsy walked through the abandoned halls of the Manor, not feeling quiet alone and unnerved by the feeling.

She shook her head and let out a nervous laugh. "Don't be so paranoid, just a side affect like Hank said."

"Do you always talk to yourself?" Jake leaned against the doorway, regarding Betsy Braddock amusedly. The hair was a dead give-away, even if hadn't seen her up-close and personal several times before. The eyes were new, though. He was actually on his way down to talk to the professor again, but Betsy had appeared before he had the chance to do much other than open the door.

To say she was startled was an understatement. "Who..what?" She regarded the
dark-haired woman with apprehension, unable to scan her intentions or reasons for being on the staff floor. "I'm sorry. No, I don't usually talk to myself, but I wasn't aware I had an audience, either."

She afforded herself a look down the hallway and just as quickly returned the woman's gaze. "May I ask what you are doing here?"

"So formal..." Jake pushed away from the doorway, smiling. "I'm staying here for a while. Your professor thinks he can help me out, so I figure it's worth a try. Congratulations on the eyes, bye the way. They're beautiful."

Being formal to someone you've just met is a sign of respect..." She stopped speaking and quirked her head, her purple bobb falling in her face. There was something about the way this woman spoke that reminded her of someone she knew, or once knew, and it made her pause. No. Probably my imagination. She wiped her hair from her face, only to have them fall back down around her eyes. "Thank you, I'm still getting use to them."

Jake arched his eyebrows at her. "Just met..?" He paused for a moment, then sighed. "Betsy, it's me, Jake. Jake Gavin? I'm sorry, I keep forgetting what I look like. You'd think I wouldn't..."

Betsy stopped smiling. "You're not Jake. Jake Gavin is a rather fit young man, who wouldn't be caught dead in a dress like that. And, if you want to have me on,
play a twisted little game, then fine. I'm really not up to games this evening."
She turned to walk away.

"Oh for heavens sake. Betsy!" Jake grumbled to himself for a moment. "Look, who stood on the stairs at the Waschawski's for an hour solely to get a chance to look down your dress cleavage? Who got you that hideously disgusting chocolate from the equally hideous ambassador five years ago? Who, in fact..." He paused. "All right, never mind the cleavage thing. But, seriously, it _is_ me."

Betsy squinted her eyes, "Jake? I don't understand." She motioned to his breasts, "What happened to you?"

"Long, long story short, it's all your professor's fault. But I'm not bitter," he said brightly. "Sure, I've spent seven months stuck like this, or with a constant headache from being 'shifted too long, and Ross kissed me, and you don't even recognize me, but, hey, like I said, I'm not bitter."

She placed her hand on his cheek and moved closer, studying his eyes. "Oh, Jake. I'm sorry." She embraced him in a warm hug. "It's good to see you," she pulled back, smiling. "Sort of."

"You too." Jake tilted his head and studied her. "Even though you do kinda look like the roof just fell on you."

"Ever the flatterer, Mr. Gavin." She pulled back from her embrace and looked around uncomfortably. "I know your father taught you how unkind it is to tell someone they look run through."

"Yes, but there's kindness, and there's friendly concern, Betsy. I have not seen you in ages, and when I do, you look like this? Though, the eyes really are beautiful, I wasn't just flirting there." Jake smiled, reaching out to touch her arm gently.

"So, you haven't yet been informed on the Great Betsy Caper. I've been suffering from setbacks from the surgery that gave me these." She pointed to her eyes. "And besides making a muck of my social life and sanity, I've come out of a coma. But I'm trying to regain my glory and my keen fashion sense, sadly, you've caught me at a bad time."

Trying to back away from the conversation. "Perhaps, we can continue this 'catching up' later?"

Jake grabbed her arm tightly. "Oh no, you don't get to run away. We are going to find out if there's anything to drink besides milk at this place... Though I suppose alcohol mightn't be good for someone right out of a coma?" He thought quickly. "You know what, I think I might have some of that disgusting chocolate you like. Come on, let's go find it, and you can eat it and tell me all about what hell you've been through, and I'll tell you about Ross..." Jake made a face. "And we'll both feel a lot better. Okay?"

"No, no alcohol. But, I should be a good little patient and rest in my room." She dug her hand into her black jacket; fiddling with the panic button McCoy had given her. And then, a flash of her hand coming out at her from the mirror and she knew she wasn't ready to go back to her room. Not yet. She plastered her best show-stopping smile. "Yes, chocolate sounds lovely."

Jake beamed back at her. "Come with me in to my lair, said the incredibly handsome man to the beautiful lady."

He stepped back into his room, spreading his arms in welcome.

She couldn't help but laugh, because even though this was Jake, someone she'd known for most of her life. There was this woman, standing in front of her, and still managing to make her blush. Betsy walked into the sparsely furnished room, "How long do you plan on staying here, then?"

Jake closed the door behind her. He regarded Betsy wryly and a little wearily ."Well, I was hoping to leave today, but professor Xavier has convinced me I need to stay here. And, since I'm just done having a fantastic row with my dad about taking a leave of absence... I'll probably be a while."

"Don't give me that look, I'm fine."

She took a seat and clasped her hands together. "Besides, I'd rather here what happened between Ross and you."

"Of course you are," Jake nodded, unconvinced. He went over to his bag to rummage through it for the chocolate he'd stashed there. He didn't know why, but ever since the woman thing happened, he'd be craving chocolate like anything at the oddest moments, so he'd taken to always carrying some with him on jobs.

He found the chocolate and gave it to Betsy, breaking off a piece for himself. He made a face at her. "You really wanna know?"

She took the chocolate and turned it over in her hands. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know." She gave him a wry smile, "not unless you don't want to share the tintalating bits. Want to keep them for yourself and your daydreams, I suppose."

"Oh shut up." Jake sat down beside her, curling his legs under him. "I have no daydreams about Everett Ross, and apparently this shape has fucked with my iq points too, because I didn't realise he thought I was coming on to him until he kissed me." Jake gave her a look that dared her to laugh. "It was during the playoffs, too."

She bowed her head as she spoke, "Well, no one can be expected to act rational during the playoffs." She looked him in the eye, trying not to laugh. But, her face was burning. "Ross is a fine catch and besides, why would you want to change. This suits you. Truly."

Jake ate chocolate determinedly. He swallowed. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. This is all this damn body's fault!" He gestured. "I liked Ross," he added after a moment. "He's funny. He does naked banjo."

"Oh, I bet he did."

She put her hands up in protest, "I'll stop, though you're not giving me much choice. So, how do you propose the Professor help you with your...um...condition."

Jake grinned a bit sheepishly. "Honestly, I was hoping he could just undo whatever he'd done and I could be on my merry way again. But no such luck. I don't think your professor has a clue what to do with me."

She brushed her fingers under Jake's chin "And that is to my benefit, I'd say. I only wish I could help you, but sadly, I'm not all here either."

Jake dipped his chin, leaning into Betsy's fingers. "Such a pair we are, no? Ma cherie, what would the Waschawskis think of us if they saw us now?"

She pulled her hand away, "indeed. They'd probably say that I've eaten too much chocolate and lost my senses." She leaned back into the chair. "Brian wouldn't be happy to see you, that much I know. But since the Waschawskis and Brian are not here, I think you'll like it here."

"So, what will you do here while waiting for Charles to cure you."

Jake shrugged. "Don't know. What are you doing here? Besides recovering from comas and surgeries?"

Betsy sighed. "Teaching, mostly. Everything and anything, psionic control to self-defense, and even a writing course here and there. After the accident, I couldn't work, not in the way I'd like, and well, I couldn't just stay home. I've never been a home-body."

Jake nodded, in complete accord. "I get you. I've been working as well, though, of course, it's different with me. The whole Ross thing though, just..." He waved his hands. "Woosh. Right off the edge. So now I'm not going back to work until I'm fixed."

He smiled suddenly. "Hey, this is good chocolate, you know."

A familiar wicked grin. "Cravings, eh?"

"How did you know?" Jake stared at her in surprise.

"Woman's intuition." She took off a large bite of chocolate and let out a low moan. "Or more like, valuable insight into the beneficial uses of chocolate."

"Women are evil," Jake said with conviction, ignoring the way his evil female body reacted at Betsy's obvious enjoyment of the chocolate.

"We are not evil." She slammed her hand on the armchair, finishing off the delicious bit of candy. "So, do you still feel like a man, I mean, with your parts missing and such."

"Yeah." Jake paused, frowning. "Although... Okay, you're definitely going to laugh, but..."

Her lavender eyes softened. "But what? Look, I promise, I'm not going to laugh."

Jake eyed her. "You promise? ...All right. I might, possibly... Okay, when Ross kissed me? I might not have. hated it. Completely."

He looked down at his chocolate, knowing the only reason he wasn't blushing was because he was manipulating his body not to.

"Oh. Really." She could almost feel the embarassment exuding off of Jake. On instinct, she placed a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with that at all. Only problem is, you'll have to figure out whether it's this body, or something within you. Either way, you still look awful in that dress."

Betsy's easy acceptance made Jake feel a little bit better. He grinned, looking up at Betsy again. "What? Pink and itty bitty blue flowers isn't my colour?"

She scrunched up her nose. "Definitely not. I'd almost have my sight taken back on having to witness this."

She pulled at the sleeve and laughed. "Oh, God. This really is awful."

"Hey, I'll have you know the sales lady told me it looked fabulously on me," Jake grinned. "Of course, she also told me that the Little Black Dress is definitely Out, so she might have been lying, now that I think about it." He stopped, giving Betsy a horrified look. "...I'll have to go shop for more clothes."

Not a problem. I have loads of clothes back in my room. And if there isn't anything you like in there, I have some favors to collect on from some friends. It doesn't hurt to have designers on speed dial." Her hands on her cheeks. "It's a temporary fix. But, it is the least I can do."

"Betsy, will you marry me?" Jake gave her a truly grateful smile. "And, run away, I suppose. Brian's still upset about the. Thing, I suppose?"

"No, we can't. He's really still upset about it all and he would never condone our marriage. She winced. "Besides, I'm attached, already, sort of."

Another troubled look fell across her features, as she thought about Scott. "You wouldn't want a dried-up model to marry. You deserve only the witty and clever. Definitely a clown or snake charmer. There you'd have something in common."

"You know," Jake said after a moment. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not. I definitely know you're not a dried-up anything, though. You're a gorgeous, funny, kind and clever lady, and anyone who've spent five minutes with you would say the same thing."

"I don't know about that." Betsy bowed her head, trying to hide the gleam in her eyes. "I'm think I'm being a little silly. Things turning out the way they did. But, thank you for the compliment."

Jake snorted in a very unlady-like way. "God-honest truth, that was, and you know it."

She looked up, tear tracks coming down her bright purple eyes. Betsy rose up quickly, trying to excuse herself. "Thank you, Jake. I have to go. I'll send over the clothes, later."

Jake stood up just as quickly, grabing her and gathering her into a hug. "Betsy? What's wrong?"

"I..I..." She fell into the hug and curved her head into his neck. Long tendrils of black mixed within short purple tresses. Betsy pulled back, wiping her tears away. "It's complicated," she whispered.

"Isn't it always?" Jake said rhetorically, keeping his voice soft. He caressed her chin gently, wiping away a tear. "C'mon. Let's go sit down on the bed, and you can tell your uncle Jake all about it. Come on, sweetie. It'll do you good. I told you about Ross, didn't I? I swear it helped."

A quick burst of laughter erupted out of her, "your bed?" She gave him an amused smile. "I think not. I've never been one for kink, either."

She rubbed the palms of her hands into her eyes, smearing her purple eyeliner. "Oh. I've really made a mess of things."

"I don't believe that," Jake said immediately. "And the bed was because it's way more comfortable than the chairs, and forgive me for being so rude as to point it out, you look like you're about to fall down. Bed, Betsy. Cosy bed. Very platonic, female friend to talk too... I think I might have more chocolate too."

Still unsure, Betsy let herself be lead. She knew she couldn't go back to her room, but she trusted Jake enough. She took a seat on the bed and looked up at the towering woman before her. "Alright. So, what is it you want to know exactly?"

Jake gave her a deer caught in headlights sort of look. "Um. Okay, look, around about now is usually when the soaps fade to the Evil Guy, so... I don't know." He pondered for a moment, ignoring Betsy's eyebrows then crouched down in front of her. "Tell me about the guy?"

"His name is Scott, Scott Summers." 'She shook her head. "I didn't intend for it to happen. A few choice encounters and he was still mourning the loss someone he cared for. And well, things developed and we got close." She coughed, watching Jake's expression fall. "Not that kind of close, Jake. I care for him, but he's been going through some personal issues and I haven't helped manners, at all."

"Honey, is there anyone here _not_ going through some personal issues?"

"The man lost his would-be wife, when she telekinetically pushed the jet they were all in, holding a parcel, including six to seven children, up in the air. And all the while, he watched as she got swept away by flood water from a collapsed dam." She crossed her arms, almost hugging herself. "I think that constitutes a little more than what everyone else is suffering from lately."

She continued. "Tell me, what kind of person is afraid to go back into my room because of a silly hallucination? I don’t think I’m all-quite here, dear Jake. Perhaps, I’m a little loopy even."

Oh, stupid girl, why are you saying all of this. Better silence than face judgment.

"Oh sweetie," Jake sighed, patting her knee gently. "First of all, yes, if you were comatose how could you possibly give your permission to anything? Secondly, I'm sure it wasn't a silly little hallucination, like you say. Thirdly, you're a stunningly pretty, kind and witty woman. Haven't you been listening to me?"

"Yes, well. I can't seem to believe that right now. Maybe later, ok?" She rose and gave Jake a quick hug. "I'll see you around."

Jake hugged her back and let her go this time. "You can count on it."

"Night." Betsy left the quarters quickly, decidedly heading for the teacher's lounge; she would spend the night there instead. And wake before anyone would find her, she hoped it would be a silent night.