Scott and Kurt, Thursday afternoon

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott keeps himself busy. Kurt gets to reap the "benefits".



Scott lowered himself into the chair, pleased when his ribs barely twinged. It was much more comfortable moving around, these last few days; didn't even hurt to laugh anymore, so long as he was careful. The jaw needed another week or two, Jean had said, but he supposed he could put up with the blenderized meals for that much longer. Although he'd lost weight he didn't really have to lose already... "Not bad," he said, as Kurt entered the Situation Room, clearly having some right from the shower. "Think we should test the program on the others yet?" It was one of his 'special' programs, which was why it wasn't for general consumption just yet.

"Perhaps another dry run or two", Kurt said with a smile, settling into a chair and trying not to drip on everything. "Though I think we could let Marie try it out, for a start."

It was a little over-complicated, possibly. It had elements of a real-time tactical review combined with significant drone-opposition and one of the more challenging physical environments he'd managed to replicate with the Danger Room. "Maybe. Wish we had a better degree of realism," Scott said a bit longingly. "Although I think we've gone as far as we can go without telepaths making people believe they're actually in the situation being simulated, which is obviously a no-go."

"...yes, I think that would be carrying it a little too far", Kurt said dryly. "Unless they gave permission, and probably even then."

"A man can dream," Scott said - facetiously, since he was one of the last people in the mansion who would ever knowingly muck with someone's sense of what was real and what wasn't. Having been on the receiving end of that sort of treatment...

Kurt chuckled, then looked his friend over quickly. "How is your recovery going?"

"Good," Scott said. "Wouldn't want to be running any footraces or doing hand-to-hand just yet, but I'll get here. Have an impressive new collection of manly scars, however," he murmured wryly. "Souvenirs to remember my trip into space by."

"Not quite the ideal", Kurt responded in the same tone. "But at least they will heal, and not restrict you in the future." Disability, to him, really was the worst possible outcome.

"It'll be a while before my ribs are back to 100%. How did Nate ever tolerate breaking his so often?"

"Practice?" Kurt suggested. "I imagine it must be something you get used to, after a time."

"Remind me not to." Scott paused. "How's the new addition?"

"Settling in." He smiled, broad and open. "And I think I have almost taught him that socks are not food."

"See, at least dogs grow out of wanton destruction of your possessions. Cats, on the other hand..." Scott shook his head. "Des has been cultivating this bad habit of jumping on my chest in the middle of the night lately. The ribs do not appreciate it."

"Perhaps she is trying to teach you not to do anything that would result in your ribs not appreciating it again", Kurt suggested, almost seriously.

"I wouldn't put it past her. Or Jean." Scott rubbed gently at his jaw. "So shall we dissect?" he said, calling up the footage of Kurt in the Danger Room.

Kurt nodded, turning to the screen. "Dissection it shall be."