Scott and Ororo, Sunday morning

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Ororo's been making a point of having breakfast with Scott on a regular basis since Jean's departure, and this morning is no exception. Scott's in a bit of an odd mood after the confrontation with Jim yesterday, but broaches the subject of coming back to work. They also name the kitten, and Ororo finds out that Scott's been avoiding talking to Charles since his rescue.


Table? Check. Chairs? Check. Orange juice, coffee, waffles and syrup? Check. Ororo ran through the list of breakfast materials as if mentally ticking off a mission checklist, making sure each object was in its correct spot as she listed it. It hadn't been difficult to set up the table and chairs up in the greenhouse... a little rearrangement and the perfect breakfast nook had been formed between the bonsai and the perennial benches. The only downfall was that getting the food and dishes up there was a trek up several flights of stairs, and any forgotten items necessitated another trip. Everything was there today, it seemed, and she smiled and sat down to wait for Scott, ignoring the rumble in her stomach as the scent of the waffles wafted past her nose.

Scott could feel some of the tension in his shoulders relax the moment he stepped into the greenhouse. The fresh air and sunlight and the smell of the plants... and of breakfast, although he wasn't sure whether or not he'd be able to do justice to it today. He should try. It wasn't as if he'd eaten dinner last night, after all.

"Morning," he greeted Ororo, his voice subdued as he reached the makeshift breakfast nook. "Waffles today, huh?"

"Yes, and fresh orange juice," she said with a nod, motioning to his empty seat. "There seemed to be enough to feed the whole school - I am not sure who made them, but they smell delicous."

Scott sat down, and after a moment, picked up the glass of orange juice, sipping at it. "Well, waffles are a perennial favorite," he said, his voice a little flat, more from tiredness than anything else. He'd slept very little last night, after the confrontation with Jim. Hadn't been able to settle down, wondering who was going to break his door down next. "They do smell good."

"Please, help yourself." Ororo unfolded her napkin, though her eyes never left Scott's face as she spread it over her knees. He looked tired, and worn. Understandable, but not desirable. "Is this too early to meet?" she asked diplomatically. "Perhaps we could meet later in the morning, it would not be a problem for me."

Scott shook his head. "It's fine... the sunlight's good, this early," he said, unfolding his own napkin. Small niceties. "I still..." He paused, wondering if this should really be something discussed over breakfast. But now he'd trailed off and he needed to finish, or Ororo would look worriedly at him. "I'm still having some trouble when I'm out of direct sunlight. Even the sunlamps aren't helping as much as they should."

Ororo looked worriedly at him, her fingers making small creases in the napkin. "You know you are welcome to spend as much time as you like in here, Scott. If you wished to sleep here, that is perfectly fine." It wouldn't solve the problem of the lack of sunlight twelve hours a day, but then, there wasn't much Ororo could do about that. Of course, the North Pole was getting nearly continuous sun now during the summer... there wasn't much to do at the North Pole, however. It probably wouldn't be an enjoyable vacation. Still, Alaska was near there, and that's where Scott's grandparents lived... By now Ororo was completely absorbed in her thoughts, wondering if she could handle things if Scott were to go on an extended vacation to Alaska.

He knew that look. "No, I don't mean... it's nothing really big," Scott said, grimacing. "Just... aches, really." Well, actually it was a little more than aches, but he wasn't going to tell her that if she was going to stew about it. "I probably should just stick to my suite." His suite. His little haven of privacy, hah.

'Ro blinked, pursing her lips and refocusing on Scott. "I cannot make you do anything you do not want to," she replied, though her tone brought that statement into question. "I only want you to be well, Scott. Whatever it takes."

Had he looked angry? At her? Scott sighed and cut into his waffle. He really needed to eat. "I'm sorry. I know. I'm just not really focusing well this morning. Long night."

"It is fine," Ororo said, pouring herself a mug of coffee. "There is no need for false cheerfulness or excuses here."

"Nobody here but us... whatever you call us." He made himself chew and swallow a piece of waffle before he said anything else. "'Ro, I want to go back to work. Not the team," he said before she can respond. "I know better than that, don't worry. But there's no reason I can't be doing the regular school-related work, especially when we're getting ready for the new term. I just need to concentrate," he said, almost angry at himself now. "Stop zoning out at my desk."

"Of course you can do that," 'Ro said with a nod. She pitched her voice as low and soothing as she could make it, keeping her expression calm. "There are things we could work on together, to begin with."

That would help. She could always wave her hand in front of his face if he started to blank out. Scott ate another bite of his waffle, mechanically. "I've been sitting around too much," he said. "Feeling sorry for myself. At some point people are going to start pointing that out to me, and I'd rather be making the effort to get back to something approaching normalcy before they do."

"There really is no reason you should worry what people say - they have no reason to criticize you. But if you want to do something for your own benefit... I would welcome that." She smiled, cutting apart her waffle into bite-sized pieces.

Scott's jaw clenched, unhappiness flickering across his features. "Why are you the only one I can hear that from and really believe it?" he asked.

"Because I am the only one who is right?" The attempt at humor fell flat, and she knew it. Sighing, 'Ro shook her head and rested her fork against the edge of her plate. "The people who live here... we all have problems. And sometimes people choose to ignore their own by focusing on someone else's. It is easier to criticize someone else's behavior than to reflect on your own. But that does not mean that what they say is right, or justified. How you feel is how you feel, Scott. And if you need time, then you deserve it. No matter what anyone else says."

"It's not really that. It just feels... hollow, 'Ro. People say similar things, and I just... it's my own fear, I guess." I'm supposed to bounce back. They need me. He looked down at his plate. "I haven't been talking to Charles," he muttered, more faintly.

"Why not?" 'Ro sounded almost incredulous. "I mean... I'm sorry, Scott. But why?"

"I don't know." The reply was almost despondent-sounding. But he did know. He didn't want to sit down and talk to Charles until he was sure that he'd gotten this whole notion of being angry at him for not finding him sooner in Wyoming out of his head. Because Charles didn't deserve that.

"I am sure that he understands, but..." Charles wasn't just Charles. He was the closest thing either of them had to a father figure, and you didn't just avoid him for no reason. "He will be worried about you. But he will not push you."

"I know he hardly left Cerebro the whole time you were looking for me," Scott muttered. Ororo and Nathan and a couple of other people had all told him that. Jean had told him. "I just... I don't want to worry him more, or hurt him."

"To be honest, I think avoiding him will worry him more than anything else," 'Ro said gently. "But he will surely understand if you need time. He is a patient man."

"The patience of a saint, like we used to say..." He was doing more playing with his waffle than eating it at the moment. Scott set his fork down and picked up his orange juice. "So," he said, in what was a painfully obvious attempt to change the subject. "Between the two of us, we should be able to get the start-of-term work back on track."

Ororo hesitated, then nodded, knowing that to push now would only make things worse. "Yes. Dani has made a good start of organizing things, but there are several items we need to review before we can move forward. I can have the papers on your desk with by this afternoon if you would like to look at them. Personally, I have been reading out on the porch as often as possible - I would recommend it."

"I'd like that. I think spending the day out of the suite will be good for me-" Although he was going to have to deal with the smashed television at some point. Discreetly, because he didn't feel like explaining to Cain what had happened - or taking the blame for it, which he might have done if he hadn't already trashed his suite once this year. "The kitten may disagree." He smiled - just a little, but it was a real smile.

"Does she have a name yet?" 'Ro inquired curiously. "Not that 'the kitten' does not have a certain ring to it, but..."

"Not yet. I keep meaning to come up with something... I should make it something Shakespearean," he said. "To go along with Horatio."

"Hmm, yes. I suppose Ophelia would be too much Hamlet in one family... Juliet? Beatrice? Titania?"

"Portia... Portia might work." But when he thought of the kitten, it didn't quite fit. "Miranda?" Scott sipped at his orange juice. "Or Desdemona? I could call her Des for short."

Ororo grinned. "Oh, yes, Desdemona is a lovely name. You will have to check with her first, but I think it is perfect."

"She's... I'm really glad I brought her home," Scott said pensively, after a moment. "My dreams are really not at all good, when I manage to sleep." That was putting it mildly. "She's woken me up a few times, patting my face and purring."

"It sounds as if you two are good for each other." Ororo finished her waffle and refilled her coffee mug, taking it black, as always. "I think I would be afraid of rolling over and smushing a cat in the night."

"I still stay on the one side of the bed." Okay, now that had sounded pitiful. Scott smiled almost despite himself - it was a self-deprecating smile, but one with some real humor to it - and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, trying to pretend he wasn't flushing. "Plus, you know, she's a cat, and she's got a healthy sense of self-preservation."

"That is true. I always thought cats were more intelligent in that respect."

"The rest of us could take lessons." Scott applied himself more doggedly to his waffles. His appetite was, very tentatively, starting to return. Ororo's company, he thought. His best friend and the morning sunlight... just about the best medicine possible.