xp_logs | LOG: [Terry, Haller] Attempts at conversation

Terry witnesses something mildly strange when conversing with Haller. Fortunately, any questions are overshadowed by the surrealness of Jack's attempt at inoffensive smalltalk.

Hands braced on the edge of the sink, Jack watched the water run out of the tap like it was a restaurant patron showing signs of skipping on the bill. Aside from glinting dimly in the light that filtered from the window, the water was otherwise unimpressive. The idea was to get his mind into a relaxed state after the session in the Danger Room, but it wasn't having any appreciable effect. Possibly not much of a surprise, given he hadn't really been feeling anything that would warrant soothing. The only anomaly in Haller's mood was the prevailing wind of Telekinetic.

The alter screwed the tap off and pushed himself away from the counter. So he had some time to himself. Unfortunately, due to Xavier's rules for the main kitchen his options were limited. After a few minutes of rummaging he located a forgotten case of root beer. It wasn't his first choice, but the sugar-content was tolerable and at least it met his vague requirements of something with a head. He poured himself a glass in the dark, settled back in a chair, and kicked his feet up onto the table.

Terry skipped into the kitchen whistling a three cornered tune. She'd just finished a long conversation with Bobby on the way back from a great meeting with her adviser. Good news all around meant that her mood was as good as it had been in a while and better than she'd felt since getting back to the States after a long visit home. She missed Ireland, of course but it didn't feel so far away right now. Once in the kitchen she headed for the freezer and dug into a box of fishsticks to retrieve a hidden creamsicle.

A faint scuff made her pause, add a trill to her whistle and turn around, squinting through the faintly light room to identify the noise. "Hello?" Her expression cleared as she made an identification. "Mr Haller?"

Jack finished swallowing what had already touched his lips before lowering the glass. "Terry," he said, the word soft in the darkness. His policy when meeting teammates or fellow staff was not to announce himself. If they didn't notice, he didn't bother to enlighten. The system had worked for David for years. However, in deference to the fact it was one of the more junior members, Jack supplied a further comment. "Nice tune there."

A smile blossomed on her face and she skipped around the island to grab a seat on one of the stools, unwrapping her popsicle as she went. She bit off the end and crunched orange ice. "Hi, Mr Haller. You're not Jim, right?" It was delivered in a tone that suggested that was a perfectly delightful thing to be, like an unexpected rain shower on a sunny day. It also wasn't a question.

"Good catch," Jack said, lifting his glass to her in a faint toast. He downed a little more. "Jack. Haven't had the pleasure. Group sessions still on the low side of rare due to power issues and the basically unsettling premise of training next to tangible evidence of mental illness."

Terry folded her wrapper back up around her creamsicle carefully, laid it on the tile and hopped down to offer her hand to Jack. "Terry Drake, but you know that. Good to meet you. So how come you're here? Do you guys have a rotation schedule or something? My psych 101 class kind of skipped over dissociative disorders and they told us to take abnormal psych if we wanted to know, which is fine if you're not busy with a million and ten other things, you know?"

Jack cocked an eyebrow at Terry's outstretched hand, then accepted it. The shake was firm and without challenge. "Crazy's crazy. Don't need a class to get that. And sure, got a schedule. Powers and playdates, penciled in nice and neat. Took long enough." He released her hand and raised his glass, a look of vague curiosity on his face. "This one wasn't on the books. Go figure. Guess when it came to total the brownie points somebody decided I was owed the privilege of kicking back after a workout." Jack tilted his head to look past Terry and lifted his free hand to the popsicle. "Here, get that for you. Put in enough hours, might as well use 'em."

Terry grinned, "Extra privileges and everything." She lifted her hand and let the ice cream float into it, part of the long since ingrained habits of growing up with a telekinetic at hand. "I..." she stopped, blinked at him in the dim light and frowned, wondering if her eyes were failing her. For a moment, her fellow teammate looked nothing like himself. She resolved to get them checked and played it off as a trick of the light. "Sorry. Thanks for the assist. I wouldn't want it to melt. I'd have been scolded my lord and love."

"Unique addition to the marriage vows," Jack commented, shrugging off the flicker of hesitation he'd noted from her. He opened and closed his outstretched fist, flexing his fingers. Despite the repeated insistence of his tutors, gestures were still the most reliable way to focus. The alter lowered his hand, grey eyes flicking to the redhead's face. "Take it you two had pleasant enough conversation."

It wasn't actually possible for Terry to glow, her mutation was sonic based after all and she was neither Alison nor Karolina, but she managed a very good imitation of it as she grinned, "Aye, just lovely. He's starting school again soon and the season's over so there aren't so many people underfoot and it'll only be a few weeks until I can go home."

Jack collected the imaginary winnings on his internal bet. He wasn't the most emotionally astute, but Jim had a tendency to notice things like singing, whistling, and sudden increase in skipping. It wasn't complex math.

"Glad you two are getting on," he said carefully. Had he been talking to, say, Scott he might have thrown in a cheap shot about an unhappy spouse's tendency to look for greener fields to plough, but he had remarkably little interest in jerking around Terry. Besides, like many secrets Jim was privy to, Jack was not willing to take responsibility for possessing certain Awkward Knowledge.

Besides, that particular incident had long been settled, and Terry and Bobby were kids. Given the odds of maintaining their innocence while associating with the X-Men, Jack had no desire to poke holes in whatever happiness they currently enjoyed.

Terry was more sensitive than most people to the way voices changed, the slight rises, falls, pauses and hesitations and so she gave him a hard, speculative look, wondering what he was thinking of that would make him phrase it so carefully. But she didn't invite trouble where there was none, so she just smiled and shrugged after a moment. "I've never been a happier girl. It's been...a fair long time since I had a family."

Jack nodded. "Seems to be the one thing you do pick up quick here." He downed the rest of the root beer and smiled sardonically. "Hope your life remains uncomplicated and you turn out to be one of the lucky few who doesn't find that literal."

Terry gave him a vaguely puzzled look. "Been here eight years, Mr. Haller. Lost my uncle, found a father I didn't understand. Took 6 years before that was mended. Sure and I've had my share of complicated. Would you like another soft drink?"

Some of the sardonic undertones cracked away from the edges of the smile. "My mistake. In that case, hope you've gotten it all out of your system." He swung his feet off the table and rose, glass in hand. "Thanks, done for the night," he told Terry, reaching out to set his hand on the girl's head as he walked past, ruffling her hair.

Terry laughed, delighted and caught his hand in her own, like it wasn't at all strange. "Thank you for my popsicle. I thought you weren't so good with the small scale stuff but that was nicely done." She gave it a squeeze and let go. "Good night, Mr. Haller."

Jack reclaimed his hand with a small, amused snort. "We all pick things up here. Night, Terry." The alter set the glass in the sink and left the redhead, the only ripple in his mood a persistent smirk in the back of his mind.

Aw, that was sweet. You went a whole conversation without the hardcore insults! Do you wanna go lay down?

Fuck off, Cyndi.