Kurt and Jean-Paul: Up on a Rooftop

[x-cynosure.livejournal.com]

Backdated to the evening of the 5th

Jean-Paul runs into the first of the old familiar faces.




It had been good to see Scott again, but by the time he had been assigned quarters, Jean-Paul's restlessness had reasserted itself. He knew that he should be touching base with familiar faces (and there were a surprising number still in residence). Rather than inflict himself on anyone, however, he'd headed out and up, intending to go poke about Salem Center until the place closed down for the night, and somehow got no further than the roof of the mansion. The chill that came with the setting sun had driven most indoors already and it seemed a waste of effort to go any further for solitude when there was a perfect opportunity before him.

He managed to sit still for all of five minutes in the deepening dark before slipping off his shoes and walking the ridge of the roof in a balance routine that became increasingly more complex as minutes passed. It was a warm-up from a lifetime ago, but Jean-Paul was just fine with casting that far back for a distraction.

He wasn't alone, though only a telepath would have known it right away. On the flying platform, a shadow in the darkness, Kurt was practicing his own routines - handstands, flips, all variety of gymnastic manoeuvres.

It took a warning twinge and then a faint pop from vertebrae that had been much more flexible -- and more routinely flexed -- in that other lifetime to remind Jean-Paul to pace himself. He straightened up with a grunted, "Calisse!"

That got the other man's attention, and he somersaulted back to the "ground" level of the roof, turning to look for the source of the word. "Hello?"

Jean-Paul only just stopped himself from taking a step back from the newcomer. The face before him was a hard one to forget, and so it wasn't the gleaming eyes and indigo skin, all but invisible in the dark, that caused the near-retreat, so much as the arrival itself -- the Canadian had been very convinced of his solitude. It took another moment to scrape up the X-Man's name.

"Wagner, isn't it?"

"Sefton, now", Kurt corrected him. "As my sister's name... but it was Wagner when I first came here. Jean-Paul Beaubier, yes? I did not know you were coming back."

"I asked Xavier to forgo the ticker tape parade in my honor. There seems to be enough going on without having to worry about the clean-up." Jean-Paul swiped the back of his wrist across his brow, wishing he'd thought to bring a water or something up with him. "What are you doing up here?"

"It is too dark to practise in the trees", Kurt informed him. "And the gym was a little... uninspiring, tonight. You were doing the same, I think - I did not mean to interrupt."

"You didn't. Lack of conditioning did." Even for a speedster, it was impressive how quickly he could turn his annoyance inward. "Inspiring or not, I think I will have to visit your gym."

"It will probably be more so for you", he offered. "After all, you have not used it almost daily for the last several years. Familiarity breeds contempt, as they say."

"I doubt it has anything I haven't seen." Jean-Paul considered retreat, but decided that he could deal with one near-stranger. "What were you practicing?"

"Gymnastics. I no longer perform, but I do try to keep in good enough shape that I could, should I return to the circus." He took a step or two towards the other man, trying to ignore the now-accustomed stiffness in his leg.

That peaked Jean-Paul's interest, and he finally gave Sefton his full attention. "Where did you perform?"

"Mostly in my family's circus in Germany." He shrugged slightly. "I came to America with the Munich Circus, for a time."

"I traveled with D'Arbanville when I was younger. We parted ways when they left France." Jean-Paul's smile was sharp-edged in the dark. "Just as well. I think I would have suffered a tragic accident of some sort if I had stayed."

Kurt raised his eyebrows at that. "Jealousy can be a terrible thing indeed."

It was Jean-Paul's turn to shrug. "They had reason to be and I did not believe in being modest. D'Arbanville was a long time ago, anyway."

"Things do change", Kurt agreed. "Whether we like it or not... I do not think it likely I will go back for good, for all I think of it sometimes."

"I would not go back to that time for anything." Then, quickly, "But yours is dealing with family. That is different."

That got a faint smile. "I would not be here now if my brother had not given me his blessing to come back... and not only because he is my clan leader now. But I am more needed here."

"It's good to know where you belong," Jean-Paul agreed mildly. He looked away again, his gaze was wandering along the horizon.

Kurt let the silence continue for a little while, comfortable with it. Eventually, he asked, "Do you intend to stay long, this time?"

"I intend to. Hopefully I can follow through this time. If my sister winds up on the front stairs again..." He trailed off, frowning. "Then that will have to be its own problem."

"A bridge to be crossed if you come to it", Kurt said with a nod. "It may be that you will not, but you know those here will try to help if you do."

"It may be that I will be lucky and she will not find me this time." That small bitterness caused a dozen more barbed retorts to catch in Jean-Paul's throat at that and he swallowed them back down. He wasn't even angry with this man. He gave himself a mental shake and headed for the edge of the roof. "Excuse me, but I am becoming less fit for company by the moment. I should go find that gym."

"As you like." Kurt didn't move from his spot, just watching Jean-Paul go. "Settle in well, Jean-Paul. I will see you soon, no doubt."