Scott and Jennie, Sunday afternoon

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott finds Jennie on coms and they have a talk about what happened in Australia.


Jean was liable to drag him back upstairs by the ear if she caught him downstairs - particularly in this part of downstairs - but Scott felt the need to be a busybody. Just a little. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ororo to run all the things that needed running in the X-Men sublevels, but, well, he was restless. Which was an improvement, to be clear-headed enough to be restless. Walking was hurting more than a little, though, so he altered his course and headed for the situation room. He could sit down there, at least, and he'd hope that whoever was sitting their coms shift wouldn't feel the need to rat him out.

Unfortunately, that person happened to be Jennie.

"Somebody's in trouble," she sing-songed as he entered the room. She sat hunched forward with her head pillowed on her arms, staring with a flat, bored expression at the monitors. There was evidence that she'd tried to study, a math textbook and color-coded binder sat neatly arranged on the edge of the board, and a large Big Gulp was set near the chair. But in reality her assignment had been completed an hour ago and she had been staring mindlessly at the monitors since then.

"Trouble? What is this trouble?" Scott had discovered that so long as he spoke slowly and enunciated as clearly as he could, the wired jaw didn't interfere with communication too much. Teaching was more or less out of the question, sadly. He lowered himself into the nearest chair, not quite repressing a wince. His ribs hurt. And his stitches itched. And why the hell did he have no energy? Oh, right, my diet consists of blenderized sludge.

Blue eyes flicked over to the CO, and a sardonic eyebrow raised. "Someone who should be in bed. And someone with a wife who we'd all like to keep below terror level orange." She pushed away from the comms board, arching her back in a stretch. "But I'm bored as hell and I do accept bribes. I should never have to do comms again, what with the whole CPR thing."

"I've heard. Thank you. Breathing is nice." He tried to breathe a little too deeply, and the breath hitched in his chest as his ribs protested again. "Funny thing? Not the first time he's beaten the crap out of me."

"I'll get him next time," Jennie grumbled. "Sneaky bastard."

"I got him last time. Suppose he was due." Scott kept his breathing carefully shallow as he went on. "You okay? Bruises fading?" He'd had a little time to catch up on the journals, after all.

"Yeah, Wally faded a while ago, I'm all mobile and stuff. Now if the anorexic barbie dolls from hell would quit trying to sabotage me in class, we'd be all set." Jennie leaned back in her chair, tipping it so it was balanced precariously on one set of wheels. "Though, I'm not sure if I wanted to do the spring dance show anyway. I don't think I'd have time, what with Saving the World." She ran a hand through her bangs and looked at Scott sheepishly. "Sorry about the plane," she said.

Scott's lips twitched in what was more recognizably a smile, now that much of the swelling had gone down. "You're not the first. And she flew us back - didn't do any lasting damage. So don't worry." In fact, he was kind of impressed. He'd missed having a probability-warper on missions, with Wanda gone.

"It's just one of those things, I thought Forge was going to have a permanent eye tic when I told him what happened." The chair landed back on the floor with a thunk. "I did good, though." Jennie said with a nod of her head. "Nobody died, and that's what's important."

"No argument here. Would've preferred - " But real-world situations rarely took preferences into consideration, he'd noticed. " - no combat for the trainees on this. But you saved people. All of you did." Although, the generalities weren't precisely what he needed to be dwelling on right here, were there? "You," Scott said, stressing the pronoun so that she knew he was talking just about her this time, "saved me. Thanks. Again."

Jennie ducked her head, "Yeah, well, just repaying the favor. How many times have you guys saved me?" How many times over would I be dead? A lot.

"Give it some time. Eventually you stop keeping score," was Scott's response, the wryness perfectly audible despite the wired jaw. "Can I get you to write up a more detailed report?" It came out a little too quickly, and he tried to explain. "Not right now. But sometime, soon -walk me through the fight? Nimrod's still new. Harder to train against him. Even little details can help."

"Um, lemme think. I was kinda high when I wrote the first one," as if the 'wishing that mangrove trees were made of pink marshmallow and not hard stuff' wasn't evidence enough. "He likes to talk and be scary, said he'd use me for a plaything, all that. He's real big on talking. And the gloating." Jennie swiveled her chair back and forth as she thought. "He's hard to make angry. I think it's because he thinks no one can hurt him."

"Is he? Scary?" It wasn't a flippant question. He'd heard Marie's account of facing him in Berlin, and it had been more than disturbing.

Jennie pursed her lips at that. "He is, kind of. Like, nothing you throw at him really hurts him, right? There is a spot in his head," Jennie tapped her temple, "that's a weak spot, but I think that's about it. I mean, I hit him with the frigging plane and he got up and walked away."

"Wish we knew more about how his power works." Scott managed another slight smile. "Haven't written my report yet. But I blasted him out of the capsule during reentry. Figured we couldn't risk landing with him right there on top of us. Pity we couldn't keep ahead of him for a couple hours longer, though..."

"Sorry we didn't find you sooner," Jennie said. She scooped up her sode from the floor and took a drink. "I mean, I don't know what would have happened if we did get there sooner. Maybe big ugly bat-man and Nimrod would still be at large and retatively unhurt."

"What ifs're not helpful," was Scott's almost chipper reply. "Saved three, took one into custody... pretty good, I'd say. You and Marius both did well," he went on, eyeing her. "Feel okay about it?" The questions he wanted to ask her were a lot more detailed, really, but they'd have to wait.

"I do," Jennie said, genuinely. "I feel really good about it, actually. Not that he got away, but. I didn't let him beat me. I did the saving, this time. And that feels really, really good. They'll never tie me to a table, not ever again," she added softly.

Scott weighed her words. A lot there, and damn, but how he wished he could talk properly... "Insert something philosophical here," he said, and there might have been the hint of a twinkle in his one real eye. "Told you, did well. Didn't say I was proud - but I am."

Jennie smiled and looked down at her hands, mentally quite pleased. She had done good, she'd saved lives and saved her teammate. It was why she had signed up, and she felt proud that she could prove to the team that she wasn't just some punk kid from Las Vegas who was playing at being 'superhero'. Jennie was serious about so few things, but this happened to be one of them.

When she looked back up, however, it was obvious the moment of levity has passed, and the mischievousness was back. "So, does saving your life mean I'll never ever have to do comms again?"

"Coms is a universal constant. Like gravity. You never escape it."

"Damn."