New Renaissance Man: Not Quite Accidental Meetings

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

After an Amnesty International event in the city, Jean is flagged down by someone who wants to talk to her about the school.



Getting some time away from the mansion was always a good thing, and the opportunity to argue with people who might disagree with her but weren't idiots was why Amnesty International events were generally high on Jean's list. The fact that the keynote speaker was so well lauded hadn't hurt. But now, the greater part of the conference over, the question was rapidly approaching - stay and mingle, or head home.

Mingling definitely won out for a least a little bit - it was way too close to rush hour to even think about getting on the road back to Westchester - so Jean headed towards a small knot of presenters, ready to make less-than-small talk.

A man stepped out from the crowd and made eye-contact with Jean: Apparently in his mid-thirties, his gaze was polite but direct, and he moved with purpose - just now, toward her. "Dr. Grey. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your evening like this, but I was hoping I might have a word. My name is Haverford - Robert Haverford - and I must admit that I'm something of a fan of yours." He smiled, revealing even white teeth. "Do you have a moment to spare?"

Jean raised an eyebrow, but turned away from the group she'd been aiming for, smiling in return. If there was possibly a touch more guardedness to her posture than there would have been a year ago, well, no one who knew all that had happened in the last year could really blame her. There was certainly no trace of hesitation in her voice as she said, "Certainly, Mr. Haverford. What can I do for you?"

"Thank you. I realize this is a bit abrupt, but I've been following your work for quite some time." Haverford's poise was uninterrupted by the relaxed way he put his hands in his pockets. "I've been very impressed with your work on mutant rights, and particularly your work with your employer, Charles Xavier, at his school. I find myself a man of some means, and I was hoping we might discuss a financial contribution of some kind." His eyes on hers were unhurried and unintense, only interested.

"Oh, well," Jean's smile widened slightly, upping the charm as they were firmly in the ground of 'lobbyist dealing with a financial backer'. "I'm always happy to meet with another champion of the cause, so I'll excuse the lack of preamble. Do you mean a contribution to the school or to one of the other organizations I've worked with. So I know who I should be introducing you to for the proper handshakings and all."

Haverford leaned back on his heels, still smiling. "Oh; the school," he said. "It's a unique place, and, unless I'm mistaken, has done a hell of a lot of good. Mutant rights are something I'm very invested in."

"I'm always glad to see the Institute get the positive attention it deserves," Jean agreed. And, since fishing was generally considered rude, she skipped asking why he was interested in Mutant rights. "If you're looking to donate, though, I'm not necessarily the one you want to be talking to... These days, I'm mainly a science teacher and a doctor."

"No, that's actually why I sought you out, when I saw you'd be here tonight." Haverford raised one hand, opening the palm. "While I've seen rather a lot of the publicity, I've been hoping to speak to someone with personal experience there." His gaze was direct, and, though still polite, rather warmer than strictly necessary. "I think you're my woman for that."

"Ahhh." The understated flirtation was hard to take offense at, but after last year it made Jean decidedly uncomfortable. But she held onto the smile as she said, "Well, depending on how much insight and personal experience you're wanting, it may be edging towards a bit late to start tonight. I'm expected back at the school and there's still a long drive a head of me..." She even managed not to look at her watch - not being rude to potential donors was key.

Haverford's lips quirked ironically, though it was unclear to which part he was reacting. He shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of detaining you any longer tonight. I thought, perhaps, you'd join me for lunch tomorrow. If you don't have any pressing commitments, of course."

There was a moment's hesitation, but Jean nodded. "Yes, lunch could be good." She would just possibly tell everyone that if she didn't make it back by, say, five, to send out the plane. Not that that was at all over reacting, no. There wasn't even any reason to be hesitant about Haverford, who seemed charming. Except, of course, that he seemed charming, and so had Matthews.

"Excellent. Why don't I make reservations - I know an absolutely charming little bistro just a few blocks down; very private." He reached out a hand to shake hers. "Shall we say about one P.M.?"

"Sounds perfect," Jean agreed, accepting the handshake with a smile.