Nathan and Jean-Paul, Saturday evening

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Jean-Paul shows up at the boathouse with the promised beer, and he and Nathan catch up.


Nathan was sitting on the dock, taking advantage of the decent weather and skipping rocks telekinetically across the surface of the lake when he spotted the visitor incoming. Apparently carrying the promised six-pack, too, and Nathan ducked his head for a moment, wiping away the smile. The look he gave Jean-Paul as the other man approached was deeply skeptical.

"I'm still reserving judgement," he informed him.

"Such a hard heart," Jean-Paul lamented with a smirk, dropping down lightly beside the older man. ""But even if I am only a poor copy of myself, perhaps I can bribe you into keeping me around." He held out his peace offering. It was, as promised, the good stuff, at least so far as brew out of a can went.

"I can be bribed," Nathan said, helping himself to a can. "Especially with alcohol, these days..." He eyed Jean-Paul sideways as he opened the can. "They say no one ever totally escapes this place. Like it's got its own gravitational pull."

"There are worse places to end up," Jean-Paul said with a shrug. The man no longer had that timeless, twenty-something look that he had when they had last met; he looked his age. "And I might be able to do some good here besides." A pause. "I am sorry that I dropped out of touch. I got very wrapped up in caring for Jeanne-Marie."

"I sort of saw it coming. But you did very definitely drop completely out of touch," Nathan said, his voice only slightly dry. There was a glint of concern in his grey eyes as he glanced at Jean-Paul, but when he went on, the bantering tone was back. "But I forgive you. Seriously, it's good to see you."

"And you. Even if you do look like your own ghost these days." Jean-Paul helped himself to one of Nate's beers. "How bad was the Manhattan incident for those here? I saw very little of it first-hand."

"You don't precisely have that youthful glow about you yourself," was the tart reply, but Nathan's voice went more neutral as he answered Jean-Paul's question. "As for Manhattan... well, it wasn't good." He took a long sip of the beer, pondered elaborating. Didn't.

Jean-Paul took the hint and let the other subject drop. "What else have I missed? I'm afraid there is not much to report on this end."

Sure there isn't... There would probably be better times to push on that, though, than a first conversation after years. "I could give you a litany of my various near-death experiences, but after a while, it would be kind of repetitive," Nathan said, and a smile tugged at his lips. "Moira and I reproduced? The results were about as prodigious as one might expect. Also very cute."

"I'm glad I have a drink in front of me." But Jean-Paul looked quite pleased on Nate's behalf. He studied the older man's face for a moment. "A daughter, then?"

"Rachel. She's three. Red hair like her mother, and my powers since birth. Well, before birth." Nathan laughed, almost under his breath. "Like I said. Prodigious. She's on Muir right now," he said, more levelly. "Best place for her until things settle a little on this side of the pond."

"I'm happy for you. How many fathers actually get to keep their daughters secure on a distant island? Alas for her future suitors." Jean-Paul let his jovial tone fade out. "As you say, it is probably for the best. Things are not so sanguine up north at the moment either. This Apocalypse did a fine job of setting human-mutant race relations back a dozen years or so."

"He was quite prodigious, too," Nathan said under his breath and took another long sip of the beer. "Although maybe the word I'm looking for is horrifying. Not every day you run into a mutant whose powers actually pre-dispose them to being a demagogue."

"I suppose it being a case of mass mind-control was too much to hope for. Merde." Jean-Paul toyed with the tab from his beer. "I only saw the edges of it. Alpha Flight was explicitly told to keep out of Manhattan. Hudson called to let me know of this and that I should absolutely stay where I was, though I told him years ago and in no uncertain terms that I was done with Alpha Flight. I got some calls shortly after that, from Department H staffers and friends of Flight members about family and loved ones still in Manhattan." He snorted quietly and bent the slip of metal between his fingers. "Hudson has a devious mind beneath that Scouts Canada facade. I would have tossed him into the bay for giving out my personal number, but I was tired after all of that flying."

"We were in the thick of it," Nathan said, not quite brusquely. "Trying to do too much..." He tapped his temple. "I was helping coordinate," he said, sounding tired. "I don't like doing that. Reminds me of the bad old days a little too much. Standing back and watching other people do the heavy lifting..."

"Watching their backs," Jean-Paul pointed out. "Making certain that the next step they take doesn't land them in more trouble than the last. Being responsible for anyone's skin but your own always feels worse than being in danger alone. You managed, though."

Nathan shrugged. "Experience helps. You know, a whole group of the students wound up in the middle of it, too? I'm amazed they're not more traumatized. Then again, the school's always been equipped with the very best of psychological services."

"And the students here have more experience with the ground falling out from beneath them, I think. Still..." He breathed out slowly. "Everyone make it back?"

"Back, yes. Intact, no." Nathan was staring down at his hands. After a moment, he finally roused himself from the bleak silence, mustering up a faint, tight smile. "Wow, I'm fantastic company these days. It's a good thing you brought the alcohol."

"Consider it part of my penance for leaving you to your own devices for so long." Jean-Paul sobered a bit. "I don't mind your company, Nathan. It's good to talk." Whether he meant that for his companion or himself, he didn't bother clarifying. He didn't see that it mattered much.

"I think we should get off the subject of New York, though. That can't end anywhere good. So," Nathan said, and skipped another of his pile of stones across the lake. "Fewer kids running around here these days. It's taken some getting used to. I suppose this way, fewer of them are getting lost in the crowd... congrats on making a good impression on Karolina, by the way. That's a rare feat."

"A little 'it's not just you' can go a long way when you're scared and hurting, non? Being young, frightened, and having people in at least two camps who think you're an affront to God is not the easiest thing to cope with."

"She's not a bad kid, contrary to popular belief among some of the staff. Just... hasn't found a place here, really. It's been hard on her, I think," Nathan said, almost absently. Thinking not just about Karolina, but other kids, over the last few years. "I don't do as much teaching anymore," he said after a moment. "I miss it."

"What is taking up your time these days?" Jean-Paul considered another beer, but decided against it.

"Beyond the flying toddler? I founded an NGO. I run it out of the boathouse. Yes, really," Nathan said, before Jean-Paul could respond. "Mutant-related humanitarian and advocacy work in the developing world."

"Despite what everyone keeps telling me, this place does not feel as if it's gotten smaller. Simply shifted direction." Jean-Paul's voice held definite admiration.

"You should come down when we're back up and running. I can introduce you to my motley crew. It's the most dysfunctionally wonderful workplace ever. We have an omnipotent secretary." Nathan eyed the beer, shook the can experimentally. Almost empty.

"Be careful; I may take you up on the offer." Jean-Paul considered the beers again, then gave in, helping himself to another one. "We need to go rock climbing again. Without my being nuked."

"God yes. I meant to take the kids this summer, but, well, coma," Nathan said, and took another beer as well. "I'm hoping for another bad winter. The ice climbing in the Adirondacks was fantastic last year." With Jean-Paul having brought it up, Nathan discovered all at once that he really, really wanted to climb. It had been too long, and just maybe he could find a little temporary peace of mind. "What are you doing next weekend?" he asked abruptly, and then laughed.

Jean-Paul made a small salut with his beer. "From the sound of things, going on my first date in five years."