Scott and Adrienne

[x-adrienne.livejournal.com]

Scott lets Adrienne in on the secret of the identities of some X-Men, the psychometrist asks a favour to try and combat her latest round of insecurities.

Exhaling the last of the smoke from her cigarette on a long sigh,
Adrienne stubbed the butt out and flicked the filter into a coffee can
on the railing of the patio. She made her way around the building to
the garage, proud that she only looked over her shoulder twice and
only flinched once when she heard an unfamiliar noise. She'd arranged
for her driver to meet her at the garage in a half hour. Another
session with her two favourite NYPD detectives was imminent. Because
she hadn't been through enough discomfort with the pirates and the
kidnapping.

She was early for her driver, but knew if she waited on the porch
she'd only smoke another cancer stick, and if she didn't wait by the
garage she would go back to her room, and if that happened she might
not leave again, which would piss the detectives off. And with her
recent jaunts across the world Adrienne assumed she would already be
in enough trouble with them.

A noise in the garage caused her to jump as she approached, but she
relaxed marginally when she saw Scott. "Professor Summers," she
greeted casually, toying with her lighter.

Scott looked up from his bike and blinked. "... sorry," he said
finally, smiling crookedly. "I can never hear 'Professor' and think
myself. Besides, it's not entirely accurate. Scott, if you like. How
are you?"

Adrienne shrugged with forced nonchalance. "Peachy, now that all the
kidnappings and pirate battles seem to be finished. I don't know how
you do it so often." She pocketed the lighter to avoid accidents and
entered the garage, crossing over to where Scott was working on his
bike. "Going out with the X-Men twice proved to be two more times than
I was prepared for."

"There are pirates and then there are pirates," Scott murmured under
his breath, not quite in amusement. "We don't usually shanghai our
staff into these things," he said, "but from what I've told, you did
well. Thank you for your help, in case no one said that explicitly..."

"You're welcome," the psychometrist responded with a smile. She leaned
against the hood of a rather impressive-looking car a few feet away
and wrinkled her nose in thought. "It's probably none of my business,
but is a large percentage of the staff on the team? I plan on being
nicer to those who are."

Scott paused, thoughtfully. She would have gotten the initial talk
about the team and what they did, but probably not those particular
details... "Myself and Ororo," he said. "Jean, Nathan, Cain, Angelo,
Forge, Garrison, Marie, Tabitha, Haller..."

Adrienne shook her head in disbelief. "That's a lot of people I have
to be nice to. And I don't think I can be nice to Nathan, or Angelo.
Or Garrison. I nearly beat the crap out of him after the first mission
he asked me to go on." She took out her lighter again and flipped it
over between her fingers. "And how do you like your wife being put in
danger every two minutes?"

"You get used to it," Scott said with a perfectly straight face.
"Until you don't, at which point you try and squelch the panic."

"Jean looks like she could handle herself pretty well," Adrienne
pointed out, attempting to be comforting, though not entirely sure
why- possibly because she understood on a smaller degree the panic
Scott had mentioned. "Even without the powers stuff. You probably make
them all train a lot, right? So they're prepared for any circumstance.
No hiding under the covers after missions for them."

"Jean's tougher than I am," Scott said, "and yeah, we train them
pretty well." He grabbed a rag, wiping the oil off his hands
methodically. "I wouldn't say we're always ready for what we
encounter, or that various X-Men don't have a variety of reactions to
post-mission stress... or trauma. But we have ways of coping with
that, too." He smiled again. "We go to see Charles and drink large
quantities of tea."

"If I wasn't so scared of Charles I might try that tea thing," the
psychometrist retorted, completely serious. She dragged a hand through
her hair, huffing out a nervous breath. It wasn't every day she
admitted something was bothering her, but Adrienne sensed that Scott
would not only keep it to himself, but know how to help her. "So
this... stress thing, it happens to the actual team members? Even
after all the training they go through, and everything? I think that
makes me feel better."

She was trying to sound him out. Interesting. Wondering if her own
reaction was unusual? Scott gave it some considerable thought before
he answered. "We had a mission go wrong not too long ago," he said
after a moment. "I won't go into details, but we were trying to
protect someone, and... well, we failed. And as long as I've been
leading the X-Men, as many times as I've been shaken or worse by what
I've seen out in the field... it still took me a few days to get past
it."

"Might take me a little longer than that, not being one of the X-Men,"
Adrienne replied with a rueful smile. "My poor husband was murdered
years ago and I'm not entirely sure I've gotten past that." She left
out the part about not needing to get over the actual murder, but what
had come before. "Taking shooting lessons helped, though," she added.
"Of course, I can't really go to the firing range these days, what
with facing a murder charge. Say..." something had finally dawned on
her- something besides shooting lessons that would help her combat
this helpless, terrified feeling she couldn't shake. "...your X-Men
wouldn't be willing to give a few self-defense classes to someone
who'd like to feel a little more... capable... of dealing with the
next weird shit that crosses the school's path, would they?"

Scott tilted his head, absorbing the information. "Would you feel more
comfortable with a male instructor, or a woman?" he asked, watching
her carefully for her reaction to that question.

"Woman," she replied without pause for thought. Too many demons nipped
at her heels when she thought of learning how to attack, and having
attacks demonstrated on her, by a man. "Do you think you could make
that work? I suppose this means I should start going to the gym, huh?"
she muttered with a raised eyebrow. "I've seen the women on your
payroll."

He'd thought that would be her answer. "Why don't you let me talk to
Ororo or Jean?" he asked after a moment, making that internal decision
rather quickly, all things considered. Adrienne's personality could
charitable be called abrasive, and he suspected that the older X-women
would be able to work with that with more equanimity. "I can
personally speak for them being supremely competent. Both of them have
chased me around the gym for years."

"Well, that sounds like it will be just fine, Scott," Adrienne replied, considerably more relaxed than she'd felt in days, "thank you. Perhaps the next time the school's security gets compromised or a James Bond knockoff comes recruiting for his latest mission I won't feel the need to hide under my bed."