Shiro and Jean-Paul, backdated to Sunday noon

[x-sanfuaiyaa.livejournal.com]

Shiro comes to welcome back his favorite teacher, and they end up starving in Poughkeepsie.


There were very few things that brought a smile to Shiro's face, and that list consistently shrank over time. An actual, tangible, useful, respectable authority figure was one constant, however, so Jean-Paul's return was cause for much celebration. He knocked on the door he'd heard belonged to Jean-Paul's new residence, and for the first time in a long time he couldn't wipe off the grin he wore.

Jean-Paul answered the door with rumpled hair and bare feet, but the sight of his former student brought out a smile that cleared all traces of sleepiness from his face.

"Shiro! Ca va?" The older man stepped back, inviting the youth into his room. "Come in, please."

"I hope I did not wake you." That would be a great first (second?) impression. Shiro entered Jean-Paul's room and ran a hand through his long hair just a tad self-consciously. "It is good to see you back here. You have been missed."

"Do not even think of it. It was time for me to get up anyway." Jean-Paul closed the door, still smiling. "You are looking well. Scott tells me you are even an X-Man now. Congratulations."

"Thank you. It is certainly a rewarding calling. Will you be returning Northstar? It would be nice if there were someone else who could keep up with me." And someone else he could trust without question.

"I plan to stay this time and make myself useful, yes. I suppose I should apologize for my abrupt departure. Things are very complicated where my family is concerned and it often seems easier to just act than to explain. Not much of an excuse, but true, at least." Jean-Paul gave Shiro a quick up and down glance. The boy had certainly grown. "And you are so sure now that you can keep up with me?" he teased, turning Shiro's words around on him.

"It may be for the best that you had left when you did. You avoided potentially disastrous affairs." And if Jean-Paul were to rejoin the team, then he'd hear all about them, and Shiro was not looking forward to having to explain any of it. He shook his head. "Ja, unless the beavers, socialized medicine, and whatever else Canada is famous for have taken their toll on you, I propose we investigate this, ne?"

"Young man, you are dreaming." For all his dismissive tone, Jean-Paul looked as if he'd had more than simply four years worth of time piled on him since his departure. "But if you insist on a practical demonstration, give me a moment to suit up and show you how far you have yet to go."

~*~

Shiro climbed the stairs up to the roof wearing his uniform, stripped of the solar panels which, though they wouldn't help him win, were still technically cheating. The power indicator on his glove dully illuminated a single ray. "I would suggest flying to the city and back, but they might be on alert for rockets heading in that direction," he said wryly.

"Probably wise." Jean-Paul considered the problem for a moment, tugging unconsciously at the collar of his black and silver skinfit. "So let's head in the opposite direction. Last one to Poughkeepsie buys lunch."

"Is that how it is pronounced? Pu-kip-see. Hmm." Shiro turned to face north and gently levitated off the ground. "On the count of three. Ichi, ni, san!" On three he ignited and zoomed towards the strangely spelled city, leaving his telltale trail of fire behind him.

Jean-Paul was right behind him, then right beside him, a grin already on his face simply from the enjoyment inherent in this sort of competition, and then easily pulling ahead once he'd gotten a feel for his former pupil's speed. Shiro's com crackled to life.

"Surely you're not going to make it this easy on me!"

In response, Shiro smirked and blasted behind him to provide extra thrust. It would ultimately tire him more and the power indicator was almost fully illuminated, but it offered him a temporary lead over Jean-Paul. "I could light your hair on fire to give you an extra challenge."

"You'd have to catch me first." Despite the ease of his tone, the older man was now having to put forth a bit of effort to keep up with Shiro. He was nowhere near pushing his limits, but the push was still discernible and Jean-Paul thrilled to the chase. The world was screaming by at a velocity that could kill them both, at speeds that most people wouldn't dare even if they could survive the experience, and it was all still a game.

There was a light, sharp impact against the force-shield over Shiro's left shoulder.

"Tag." Jean-Paul was in front of him again, barely an arm's length ahead. A split-second smirk, and the gap was widening again.

"Aho," Shiro cursed and put as much power into his thrust as he could manage. He still barely managed to reach Jean-Paul's shoulders, though, and yet the Quebecois started to pull ahead again.

The speedster doubled back for a split-second and tapped Shiro once more for good measure before decelerating sharply and touching down just behind a sign welcoming them to the Poughkeepsie city limits.

Shiro landed just a few seconds later. He wore and odd expression of anger and disappointment mixed with amusement. The grass beneath his feet smoldered and smoke rose from his clothes. "I ought to know better," he said breathlessly. "I really really should."

"And spoil all my fun? Perish the thought." Jean-Paul was beaming, though not at his victory. "You've improved or I've fallen out of condition, I think."

"Ever the flatterer." Shiro felt a smile growing on his face, too, though. "Welcome home, Mister Beaubier. I hope you choke on your free lunch."