xp_logs | LOG: [Ororo, Haller] Preparations

With the bulk of the team having thoughtlessly scattered itself across the globe, Ororo is left to organize the rescue operation.

It was far from the first time Ororo had spent hours in the Sit Room, typing until her fingers were sore, pulling up maps and flight routes and planning out strategies for every eventuality that might occur on the upcoming mission. It was, however, one of the few times she had done so alone. And it was very disconcerting.

Pausing to take a sip from the now-tepid coffee that sat at her right elbow, the silver-haired woman shuffled through the sheaves of paper she had collected over the long hours previous. While 'search and rescue' wasn't exactly a new scenario, there were enough variables in this particular situation to cause some doubt. Such as the fact that we will be encountering hostiles at just about every stop. And the medical team is fragmented at best. Oh, and the ones doing the rescuing are the trainees. Dear Goddess, could this be any more nerve-wracking?

"You are going to sleep at some point before you head out, right?"

One of the mansion's very few remaining occupants stood in the doorway, holding a tray that balanced two mugs and a full pot of coffee. Jim nodded to the listless mug by her hand by way of explanation.

"Thought maybe you could use a little more," he explained, easing himself into the room.

"Espousing sleep while pushing caffeine... I think your messages are a little mixed," Ororo said with a somewhat weary smile, pushing her chair back and turning to face the lanky young man. "But welcome all the same. That smells heavenly."

"The voices couldn't reach consensus. I thought I'd let you decide." Jim set the tray down and lowered himself into a seat. He glanced up at Ororo as he set one of the mugs in front of her, keeping the other for himself. His next question was rather transparently rhetorical. "You worried?"

"I... yes." Not that I would put it exactly like that. Ororo gave a small shrug of her shoulders, wrapping her hands around the mug and allowing the warmth to seep into her fingers. "Not that it's much of a change from the past few days. But I cannot help but think that we are courting disaster, bringing the trainees into this. As much as I trust them all," she added after a moment's pause.

"I know what you mean. They were going to have to go solo sometime, but I can't say I don't agree that this is a little sooner than I was hoping." He took his own mug in his hands and smiled wryly. "Then again, I guess any time was going to feel like too soon. It's more our problem than theirs, I think. I'm sure they're nervous, but I know a couple are glad they can finally do something other than wait. I don't even want to know what the last couple days in the brownstone were like." He raised the coffee to his mouth, both hands cupped around it as he regardedOroro over its edge. "But we can use the kids as an excuse to dodge all night. I was a little more concerned with how you're doing, going into this." Unspoken hung the words "without your powers".

She took a long, slow sip, apparently mulling over the best way to answer the inquiry. She had to appreciate his tact, even if the implication was easily read. "I have a job to do," she decided on saying finally, straightening her back, "and I intend on accomplishing it to the best of my abilities. However diminished they may be." The look that accompanied that statement challenged him to try and protest, politely or not. "My friends are depending on us."

The smile that ghosted the younger man's face was wry. "Hey, I can only use about one third of my own mutation. I'm the last one who's going to get on somebody for going out with diminished capacity. Um, in the powers-sense, that is." He swished his coffee gently, watching the dark contents roll around the mug. "I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about you worrying about you, if that makes sense."

"You sound like Charles," Ororo murmured, glancing over at the nearest screen, which had a satellite view of Siberia displayed upon it. "And I will tell you the same thing I told him: while I do worry about myself, I know now is not the time for such things. I will be fine."

The telepath tilted his head. He knew Ororo had always identified strongly with her powers -- its connection to her emotions enhanced by how much they informed her perceptions of the world around her. Jim himself didn't know how that must feel first-hand, but Cyndi did. Her powers had been taken away from her once, too. Even removed, he knew the tie between her identity and her powers had been the foundation of her world -- and he could remember what had happened when that world had suddenly been stripped flat and static.

So instead of pursuing the subject Jim only smiled, and lifted the toe of his shoe beneath the table to gently nudge Ororo's calf.

"I know you will," he said, bringing the coffee back to his lips. "This place is full of people who've mastered the necessity of waiting for the appropriate time to deal with things. You, Scott, dad . . . I guess it's just the reality of the job."

The mug was halfway to her lips when Ororo paused in her motion, momentarily taken aback by what Haller had just said. Dad? She supposed he could have been referencing someone from his past, but he had said 'this place', as if his father was currently there... No, he couldn't mean... Blinking, she realized she hadn't replied and searched for a response that wouldn't give her thoughts away.

"One of the many requirements, yes. But I think we have also learned not to avoid our issues forever." Apparently? "So take heart in that."

"Yeah. Even though I wish it was for reasons other than because the issues inevitably . . ." Jim was halfway through the automatic reply before his slip caught up with him. Or, more accurately, when his head exploded with incredulous laughter.

DAHAHAHAHA 'dad' AHAHAHAHA!

When he didn't continue, Ororo merely smiled politely and took another sip of coffee. She was curious, of course, as to what he had meant by the inclusion of 'dad', but thought that this was neither the time nor the place to address such issues, as she had said before.

"I believe that any more philosophical talk may have to wait until a later date. This coffee has given me a second wind, and I intend to take advantage of it while I can."

Jim smiled in a way that leaked just a little too much relief. "I know the feeling. We're all tired." Yeah, tired enough to start spilling Freudian slips all over the Sit Room. Saving the ramifications for when the team's not in crisis, lalalala . . .

The telepath forced his shoulders to unknot. Yes, he could put this aside. Unfortunately, he knew headmistress' problems didn't come with that option. He glanced around the room, taking in cold glow of the monitors, the empty chairs, andOroro there in the middle of it. One woman planning a rescue -- alone. There wasn't much he could do, but maybe he could offer something.

Setting down his mug, Jim kneaded his hands across the warm ceramic and let himself settle into his chair. His posture became deliberate, relaxed, and unquestionably settled in for the indefinite future. The younger man leaned forward to bend over the charts.

"So, what's your plan?"