Clarice and Jean-Paul - waaaay backdated to the morning of the 5th

[x-cynosure.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul and Clarice talk. Awkwardly.



OMG. JP had taken Nate out shopping and not her. It was a CRIME. Granted, Nate did need some fairly dire help, but good fashion wouldn't solve his problems. He'd just be fashionably crazier. And really, did good fashion matter when you were sorta nuts? No. Not at all. Which was why Clarice was pissed. Not super pissed, but definitely demanding restitution pissed. If JP took her shopping, all would be forgiven. If he didn't, well, she had recently stocked up on glitter at an after-Thanksgiving craft sale. It wasn't like JP didn't have warning either.


"Oh JP!" she sang in a sweet and innocent voice, teleporting directly into his room. She normally didn't do that, it was rude and inconsiderate, but JP had taken Nate shopping. And not her. Besides, it was JP, he wasn't doing anything remotely interesting with anyone. Unfortunantely. Except he wasn't there. She had been so certain he'd be in his room too. Damnit! After exploring his room for a few seconds she realized his shower was on. Oh! Heh.

The water switched off after a few moments, revealing two truths: Jean-Paul sang in the shower, and his singing voice was flatter than a pancake hit by a steamroller. He emerged from the bathroom in a loosely belted robe, drying off his hair.

"Quand il me prend dans ses bras/Il me parle tout bas/Je vois la vie..." He caught sight of the girl in the middle of his suite and folded his arms over his chest. "I trust there is a good reason for this."

"Dude, I thought you didn't bring the cat?" she asked, ignoring his question from where she was now sitting in a chair. It was a good chair, very comfortable. "Because if that was you, then I want the name of your singing teacher," not that she could really comment on his singing. She was pretty bad herself, but she knew good music when she heard it and that was not it. Not by a long shot.

"The cat is dead," he pointed out, stalking into the bedroom and shutting the door. The barrier made little difference; he had more than enough lung capacity to make himself heard through it. "And that does not answer my question. This school had better be on fire."

Oh, right. Chagrined, Clarice blushed, "Sorry! I'm sorry, that was...yeah...inappropriate..." oh man. Now she had really stuck her foot in it. And instead of getting a shopping trip, she had pissed him off and was insensitive. "No fire...I just wanted to see you...I haven't seen you recently because of school..." now would be a good time to disappear. Or teleport out. It was too bad her sense of ethics wouldn't let her until she had apologized properly. "I'm sorry, I can come back later...?" but he was totally hot when he was half naked coming out of the shower. Why were all the good ones gay!?

Jean-Paul elected not to emerge until he was fully dressed and every hair in place. If he was organized enough, he could pretend that the last few very awkward minutes hadn't happened.

"Next time, knock." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe to his room, keeping some distance between them, though his irritation was quickly cooling. "I found the messenger bag. Merci."

"Oh good!" she chirped, still not moving from the chair, but she had curled up in it a little. "I made it and thought of you so I gave it to you!" Well, she hadn't made the bag, but she had decorated it which was close enough. "Which makes sense. Yeah....um...I can come back later?" she suggested, not really sure he wanted her around right now. It used to be he loved her around. Now he was different.

"You obviously had something to say," he pointed out, moving away from the bedroom and heading for the kitchen, hunting for a teapot.

She shrugged, wanting to go shopping was sort of silly now, "I just wanted to hang with you. Maybe do some Christmas shopping or something," unfolding herself from the chair, Clarice followed him into the kitchen. "I've been busy and have barely seen you and you're back and I miss you and that's not right! Damn that whole growing up crap!"

"There's blame to go around on that front," was the mild reply. "I've been busy as well, getting ready for the semester. I did not mean to be negligent." A slight smile. "I have some schemes in the works, but I could manage another shopping trip. Nathan has told me that I'm not allowed to take him out again until the holidays are over."

Wait. Again?! He was going to do it again?! "Are you feeling okay?" Clarice asked, coming over and reaching up to put her hand on his forehead as if to feel for fever, "I mean. This is Nathan...and you want to take him to a mall a second time?" Wasn't that risking life and limb? She was exaggerating of course, but Clarice was prone to doing that sometimes. "Nathan is not a shopper JP. He's like...run in and grab what he needs and run out."

"Don't be crass; of course I did not take him to the mall, not when there was a chance he might actually appreciate the trip. The mall is spit and duct tape -- there to be abused and to buy stopgap solutions that cover up worse crimes." He ducked out from under Clarice's hand and continued with tea prep. "But where would we be going these days?"

"I like the mall," she said, shooting him a look and going to sit down at the counter, "It had pretty shiny things and ideas for me to make better. And clothes and stuff. When I was a guy, I had the best wardrobe," she nodded sagely at that memory. Her guy clothes had been pretty awesome, it was just unfair she hadn't had a chance to wear them all before turing back to a girl again. Oh well. "Not all of us can shop on 5th Avenue you know."

One dark eyebrow arched. "When you were...would you mind explaining?"

Oh. Right. He probably hadn't read those reports, "So our fearless leaders made most of us go on this team building exercise weekend crap thing. Majorly lame. And there was this psycho bitch who genderswapped everyone. I'm talking everyone. Me, Scott, Jean, Logan, Marie-Ange and Doug, Marie...and more. There were a lot more. Angelo, Amanda, Alex, Terry...anyways, it was crazy. And I had the best wardrobe. Because I couldn't be all in a skirt as a guy! And my pants were too short and cut weird. Anyways, it only lasted a week. And we beat the shit out of that freak. It wasn't personal, it was just, like, they were bored. It was weird. But kinda fun," and rather enlightening in many ways.

"I can hardly imagine. But we can go to the mall, if you like." Somehow, the idea of the place had seemed less distasteful when she was a shy teen clutching a bag of fabric samples.

"Well, now you know to refuse to go if someone decides that we need another team building thingy," she knew where she'd be if they did that. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. Like maybe the Congo River or the Amazon. Or the Australian outback. Somewhere Else. "Where do you want to go then?"

A slight smile. "I...will probably be in charge of the next team-building excursion, horrible as that is to think of. With Marko gone, the idea was that I would be backing up Kane with the New Mutants and now it seems the back-up will have to find back-up."

"Yeah..." mentioning the missing people was sad. It was really strange, at least to Clarice. Dani going missing like this was not really weird, she was not a fighter or anything and neither was Jay entirely. But Pete and Kane? That was weird, especially since the four had all been together. Pete and Kane were like, the bad asses of badassedness. It was very, very weird. And highly disturbing, but at least she knew she would never be kidnapped. Teleporters could sleep soundly knowing that. It was nice. "That sucks..."

Jean-Paul shrugged. "That will be able to wait until after the holidays. I will live. But back to the subject at hand: we can go wherever you like."

Snorting in a very unladylike manner, Clarice tried not to laugh, "Dude. Teleporter. I always go where I want," like into JP's room. Though not his bathroom. That would be really weird and kinda squicky. No matter how hot he was, he was still JP.

"And I have already been where I want," he pointed out in return, all false innocence. "So then why are we discussing this?"

Ugh! Men! Even JP could be one sometimes, "Because it beats staring at each other crosseyed," she replied sarcastically, crossing her eyes at him. She could be so mature, "I was a pretty awesome guy. But I still liked guys, which I guess makes me gay. Or...I don't know. Anyways. We should go to the mall and see Santa!"

"Can't I just try to bribe my way back into your good graces?" A hint of a whine there? Maybe.

"Like with shopping?" Clarice was evil sometimes. "Anyways, Santa is a dirty old perv. Wanna hear a joke?" she asked brightly, wondering if the tea he was making was for both of them or for him only. She didn't drink tea much, usually only when JP or someone else made it actually. She hadn't really thought of that.

"Fire away. Do you still take your tea with too much sugar?"

"Mmm, sugar. Yes. I like tea with my sugar," she replied, watching as he puttered about, "So, there's this little girl about six waiting for Santa and she's standing there in front of the chimney in her little footie pajamas and teddy bear. And Santa comes down and she says 'Santa, will you play with me?' and he says 'Hohoho, gotta go gotta go!' and up he goes! So then, the girls' like 12 and she's wearing this little nightgown with pigtails waiting for Santa and he comes down and she asks him to play again. And again he replies, 'Hohoho, gotta go gotta go!' Then she's like 16 and wearing this little skimpie nightie waiting for Santa. And she asks him to play and he says again 'Hohoho, gotta go gotta go!' Well. Then she's 21 and waiting for Santa wearing nothing but a smile and Santa comes down the chimney and she says 'Santa, will you play with me?' and Santa says 'Hey hey hey, gotta stay, gotta stay!'" She beamed, even though it wasn't a very good joke.

There was an awkward silence that stretched out into a minute before Jean-Paul moved to get the tea mugs. "I guess I can rest assured that you did indeed grow up while I was gone. It is strange, watching you on the journals and thinking that it can't possibly be the same girl I knew. I can remember that you like sweet tea, but I still have the feeling that I should introduce myself all over again."

Okay, so the joke was kinda lame. "I grew up, JP," she said softly turning serious, "It happens even to the best of us and around here...it tends to happen sooner rather than later," she shrugged, not apologizing, "I've been an X-Man since I was 18, a trainee when I was 17 and was in shit here since almost the day I arrived. Even I couldn't avoid it forever...but I tried."

"I know and I did not mean that to sound like blame. I was not here long and I left suddenly besides; there is only so much paternal looming that I am entitled to." He offered a weak smile as the electric kettle burbled at him. "Perhaps we should stay in and talk a bit instead?"


"If you want," Clarice shrugged, enjoying the tea kettle as it made its noise, "What do you want to talk about? Growing up?" that would be a short topic, she was only 20. Well, his growing up maybe, he was older after all and had done more of it. "It's like Peter Pan. All children do it except one."

"It has been four years. I'm sure we can find more to talk about than age."