xp_logs | Nathan and Jean, Friday

Jean, a bit perturbed by the 'twiggy' comment from the previous night, heads down to the gym where she finds an aggravated Nathan taking out his daily annoyances on the punching bag. The 'German problem' is still nagging at him just a little.

The thing was, Jean decided, looking at this new body in the mirror, it didn't look like much. Well, no. Amend that. She looked like a male model, as Scott put it, but she didn't exactly look like she could stand up for herself in a fight. Twiggy, the guy last night had called him. Which had rankled in new and hopefully entirely hormone-driven ways. And so now Jean was heading down to the gym, curious to see what the body, all on it's own, could do.

The sound of someone taking out what sounded like excessive frustration on the heavy bag was audible all the way down the hall. Nathan didn't even look in Jean's direction, just kept pounding the bag, each punch the type that would have put anyone but the physically enhanced on the floor.

See, that. That was what Jean wondered if her body could really pull off with out the TK just now. Guys were supposed to be bulky. Jean would pout, but it would be unbecoming. "Mind if I ask what's up?" he asked, stepping into the gym and heading towards the weight machines.

"Someone in Germany needs to die," Nathan muttered, his temper growing fouler by the moment. "Fascist-loving bigoted piece of shit-"

"Ah-kay..." Jean said slowly, sitting on one of the benches but not moving to get properly into position. "We wanting to talk about it or should I just let you get on with your catharsis?"

Nathan finally looked around at her - him, and closed his mouth for a moment. Something close to a smile twitched at his lips. "You walked in here in a male body - did I register it? No. It's so damned funny. I hardly am with anyone who's been switched."

Jean snorted, grinning faintly. "Well, the mental presence is the same. Which I think is all that saved me from getting kicked out of bed the first night." Although there had been fleeing. Ahem. Moving on.

Nathan snorted. "Yeah, I bet. Can I just say how glad I am that I was slated for next weekend? I can't imagine how confused Ray would have been. She got very indignant briefly at Angelo."

"Rachel would have been indignant, yes, but I get the feeling Moira would have been gleeful when you called. Recognized the inherent crazy strangeness of it all." Standing up again, now that Nate was no longer quite so absorbed in the death of the punching bag, Jean moved around to look at what the machine was set to. She scaled it down to within the upper limits of her normal capabilities before moving back onto the bench. "How's Angelo holding up?"

"Pretty well, I think," Nathan said, his lips twitching again. "His girlfriend is the adaptable sort." He needed to call Dom. She'd giggle herself silly, and she needed the laugh; therapy was wearing on her. "And hey, since you're switching back within a few days, I don't suppose you'd like to go to Berlin and off someone for me?"

"Well, it does kind of make us the perfect assassins, doesn't it." Lifting up on the bars, Jean paused. Ok, yes, there was definitely added muscle mass there; this should have been harder. "Although I still kind of stick out in a crowd. You'd be better off asking Scott. Small, brunette, pretty but not remarkably so. She'd be the perfect spy."

"I think Scott would tell me I needed to resolve my political difficulties in a more peaceable way," Nathan muttered. "Your husband is no fun that way."

"This is true, he is remarkably sensible like that." He wasn't pushing, trying to be careful, but the set seemed almost... easy. Jean mentally shrugged, starting on a second. "So, tell me about this person you're wanting killed. I take it it's the 'fascist-loving bigoted piece of shit'?"

"Anti-mutant type by the name of Baron Wagner. He's been causing problems for friends of Elpis's, and now he's being vocally offended by the existence of Prime Minister Barath."

"Interesting. What, is he descended from Wagner the fascist-racist composer?" Finishing the second set, it was definitely time to up the anti, and Jean stood up, moving to adjust the weights upward. "How powerful is he in Germany? Is he on their parliament or simply local?"

"Local, but with ambitions," Nathan confirmed, pulling the wrappings off his hands. "Think Germany's answer to Joerg Haider. Don't they know better at this point?" he asked, frustrated.

"Most of them, yes," Jean said, thinking of several of the German activists she'd met. "But... well, it's like the FoH. There's always going to be a disgruntled minority who think they've been hard done by life and that, actually, maybe being complete evil bastards wasn't such a bad idea."

"I always like the composer Wagner's music," Nathan grumbled. "Historical connotations or not. I wonder if he is related... guess Wagner's not the most uncommon name in German, though."

"Oh, I like his music, but he was a racist ass even before Hitler got into it. Mind, most everybody was in those days." Jean sat down again and started lifting. "Ok," she said after a second, "seriously, guys? Really are stronger. This is strange."

Nathan snorted at her. "Yes, but strength isn't everything for us, isn't it?"

"No, no, obviously. Can lift the jet with my mind but... this is different. Possibly only because of the excess testosterone in my body, though."

"You're very analytical," Nathan said with one of those innocent looks that never fooled anyone. "Do you ever shut that off?"

Jean shot him a Look. "Nope. Well," he amended, grinning, "there are times, but for your purposes, nope." And, seriously, did he ever think about anything other than sex these days?

Nathan just snorted - and went back to the heavy bag.