xp_logs | Adrienne and Jean-Paul

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Adrienne and Jean-Paul meet face-to-face and decide whether or not they can tolerate each other.

Following her resolution to swim every day, Adrienne finished up her twentieth lap of the pool and collapsed at the side gratefully. She used to do fifty laps every morning when she'd been younger, but after deciding to get her education certification she'd found leisure time had become scarce and she'd been unwilling to make the time for swimming. She'd forgotten how much she missed it. The time off had made her technique rusty, however, and the psychometrist found herself tiring easily, so she was starting off with twenty laps and adding another five every two weeks. Twenty was more than enough for today.

Wrapping a towel around her waist she headed for the showers, but a view of a shirtless male figure nearby made her pause. A very attractive, shirtless male figure. One she recognized from the journals as Jean-Paul, Morgan's new... whatever he was. To snap herself out of staring, she forced her mouth open and called out a hello.

Jean-Paul had been in the mood for a swim post morning work-out, but the lake had frozen over to the point that it was use the indoor pool or go without.

The speedster glanced up at Adrienne's hail and nodded in return, brushing a sweaty lock of hair off of his forehead. He was obviously in cool-down mode and at-ease. His physique was marred by several scars, but that was hardly unusual around this school.

"Bonjour, madame." A slight smile. "How is the water this morning?"

"Very fine," Adrienne returned with a smirk. She let her eyes roam over his body to clearly indicate that she wasn't talking about the water, and hoped that JP could take some appreciative ogling better than some other people. "I don't think I've had the pleasure of running into you here before, Mister Beaubier," she smiled politely. "Do we just have conflicting gym schedules or do you usually work out elsewhere?"

"Likely yes. Most of my exercise is outdoors, when I have the option." Jean-Paul didn't seem to mind the scrutiny at all, even inclined in a slight bow at the compliment before he headed for the pool. "Though I do work with the punching bags indoors."

"What sort of exercise do you do outdoors?" Adrienne asked, curiously. Aside from running, she couldn't think of anything else to do in winter weather. "Seems a little cold to do much of anything. Unless you don't feel cold? Being Canadian and all?" she smirked again.

"Flight, foremost. Running. I was using the lake to swim before the ice got too thick. After a while, it's not worth breaking through it. Too many sharp edges. And I suppose that answers the second question." He grinned, tossed the towel he was carrying onto a deck chair, and dove into the deep end.

Not wanting to interrupt his workout, Adrienne headed for the showers, but because she wanted to ask him about a certain South American boyfriend who was actually a blue woman, found herself returning poolside once she'd showered, dressed, blow-dried, and primped. She stood and watched, admiring the athleticism, and only spoke when he came to a halt. "Can I ask you where you found Daniel?" she called out unabashedly, smirking. "Morgan says you picked him out. I think I want one for myself. Is there a secret hangout where you extremely attractive men go?"

"Do you think I would tell if there were?" he countered, stroking up to the lip of the pool easily . "Selflessness is not a defining trait of mine. But I will tell you that finding that one was a happy accident. We stopped for a bite, there he was, and stealth, speed, and a pair of nail scissors did the rest."

"No need to be overprotective, Zippy; I don't want to steal them from you," she laughed goodnaturedly in response to his first comment. "I don't sleep with men. I'm a nun." She wrinkled her nose and made a self-pitying nod before continuing. "I just want to make them exceedingly famous and rich. Too bad Morgan won't agree to work for me as Daniel." A teasing pout was aimed at JP. "I'm devastated about that. I might accept you as a consolation prize, though, since it's sort of your fault that Daniel came around in the first place; I think that's only fair."

"I am already infamous and comfortably well off," Jean-Paul quipped back. Despite a curl of possessiveness that made him want to chase this woman away from Morgan and Daniel both, he knew perfectly well that it was an unreasonable expectation. The only other options were to pretend that she didn't exist, or, God forbid, see if they could tolerate each other. So far, the latter seemed like a surprisingly likely possibility. "And," he teased, "a bit long in the tooth to model underwear, non? What will the public say if you offer them meat past its sell-by date?"

Biting her lip in melodramatic thoughtfulness, Adrienne nodded her agreement. "It's true." She waited a beat before adding, "you are infamous and, from what I gather in those ridiculous tabloids, well off." Jutting out a hip and placing a hand on it in a posture of further thoughtfulness, she gave him her best fangirl ogling look, complete with head movements. "I think the public would share my opinion about you in underwear, however. After all, I never offer unless I already know people will buy. I have some experience at this. I think you underestimate the length of your teeth, Monsieur Beaubier. Plus, there are other things to model than just underwear." It was nice to be able to get in some ridiculous teasing with a man- her encounter with Manuel had made her second-guess whether she should supress that obnoxious part of her nature, bringing back memories of learning the hard way that what she thought of as harmless teasing could result in rather a lot of pain. But joking with Jean-Paul was almost like having a conversation with Garrison again, which was... nice.

"Perhaps you could get me in one of those milk council ads wearing nothing but a white mustache," he suggested. "It would be attention-getting, I'm sure."

Adrienne clapped her hands together. "Now there's an idea. I was thinking more along the lines of Armani suits or motorcycles, but you know what? Milk mustache is so you. I'm going to send you some paperwork; all you have to do is sign it and I'll make you a star among milk-consumers everywhere." She was beginning to understand what Morgan saw in the man, and she was thoroughly enjoying it.

"Excellent...ah, no, wait. It cannot be," he sighed, slipping away in a lazy backstroke, his voice thick with insincere disappointment. "I am teaching now. I've given up my wild ways and become a respectable role model for the younger generation. That means all fun and frolic must be confined to the back pages at best, and I'm sure you could not tolerate such slumming."

"I might be more tolerant than you'd think," Adrienne called out, more serious now, stepping back from the edge of the pool so she wouldn't get splashed, "what with being a respectable role model myself." Maybe she wasn't such a good role model, fooling around with Morgan on the journals, but her decision to become a teacher had stemmed from a desire to be admired by and to influence the younger generation in a much more intimate setting than owning a fashion and modeling company would. 'Role model' had never been a word in her vocabulary, but she could understand what Jean-Paul was talking about. "Is that why you became a teacher?" she asked, all traces of teasing gone from her voice.

"I had a considerable amount of free time on my hands and Xavier was willing to have me back." They'd felt each other out and now stood on the cusp of having an actual conversation. Jean-Paul righted himself effortlessly and switched to treading water. "There didn't seem any reason not to. And yourself?"

The psychometrist shrugged. "Something similar to wanting to be a role model, I suppose," she answered honestly enough. "A desire to influence the minds of young people on a much more personal level than I could by running my company. Except saying it that way makes it sound more diabolical than I meant it to," she muttered. His mention of coming 'back' had a question rising to the forefront of her thoughts. "Can I ask why you left the mansion? Was it because of the dangerous shit that's always happening around here?" Of course if it was the danger that had made him leave, he wouldn't feel very inclined to return... But still, the self-preservationist in her was curious to know whether he'd left because of some particularly dangerous situation.

"Family issues," was the easy answer. "My sister needed me more than the school did. But that's done with." He half-smiled and headed for the ladder nearest Adrienne. "I suppose I've been doing this long enough that it never occurred to me to think of the school itself as particularly dangerous. They are just children with problems."

Grabbing his towel and holding it out for him, Adrienne was quick to correct him on his interpretation of her position. "I don't mean the children are dangerous. I just mean that dangerous things happen to the people associated with this school, be they X-Men or students. Of course, part of it is that the people here seem to volunteer themselves to go into harm's way an awful lot, but even when they're not seeking out trouble, it seems to find mansion residents or those associated with the mansion at a fairly alarming rate."

"Ah. Merci." Jean-Paul plucked the towel from her hands and began buffing himself off. "I suppose so, yes. But I would wonder how much of that is because of what we are more than where we stay. That is not to say that wearing the X does not track trouble home, but it seems that trouble found most of those here before they knew of the school."

He had a good point, and Adrienne conceded it with a nod. "I suppose you're right. Hell, even people without public mutations or without mutations at all can be magnets for trouble and life-threatening situations." She plastered on a smile before she could get too bogged down in thinking of her own past, how her mutation had never even factored in to the abuse she'd lived with for so long. "So maybe it's just the frequency or the bizarre... ness of what goes on around here that makes me question my safety. Of course, if you tell me that the incident rate of bizarre things happening is statistically going to be higher living in a place with fellow mutants than it would be living on one's own or with regular people, I wouldn't be able to argue."

"Precisely. We are trouble alone. Put us all together and we are trouble squared, at the very least. Perhaps not always safe, but never boring." He draped the towel over his shoulders. "So that is some upside to all of the ridiculous shit that we go through."

Adrienne laughed at his outlook on the situation. "I don't really see the upside to trouble squared, but I'm still here when it would be just as convenient to find my own place to stay now that I've got my powers under control and the NYPD trusts me to be on my own, so obviously trouble squared must hold some appeal for me. Do you think I could practice my French on you, Monsieur? I delegated my France and Montréal clients to other employees when I started teaching, so I'm afraid I'm becoming rusty."

"I'm prepping for the start of classes Monday, but I think I could spare you a little time, if only to stay in Morgan's good graces," he teased. "If you do not mind waiting until I have made myself presentable, that is."

"You mean you're only associating with me for Morgan's sake?" she retorted with mock hurt before muttering under her breath "I think I'm starting to understand how Manuel must feel when I'm around." Of course, Manuel was beginning to grow on her now, but she wouldn't have given him the chance to do so if it hadn't been for Morgan's insistence that the man deserved better than the treatment most people gave him. "I didn't mean any extensive lessons or anything of the sort, I just meant casually, and not necessarily now," she clarified to Jean-Paul. She'd really only meant it as an excuse to see him on a more frequent basis- her French wasn't actually lacking at all, or at least she felt there was nothing wrong with it. It was more a matter of the fact that she enjoyed his company, something that rarely happened to Adrienne and led her to desire continued exposure to it. "I have classes to prepare for, as well. Whenever would be convenient, and whenever you're feeling presentable, is perfectly fine."

"At three, then?" Much of Jean-Paul's humor had retreated at the mention of Manuel, though he didn't remark on the man himself. "If that is convenient."

Having based much of her self-preservation on recognizing changes in peoples' moods, Adrienne raised an eyebrow at Jean-Paul's shift, but suspecting that Manuel's name had been the cause of it, she let it slide. What did it matter to her what sort of relationship the two men had with each other? "Oui, Monseiur," she smiled cheerfully. "Tres bien."