Scott and Jean-Paul, Sunday evening

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul lets Scott beat him at pool again. Various matters are discussed, including Jean-Paul's first-day jitters.


"I've become distressingly social lately." Jean-Paul lined up his shot and frowned as the cue ball missed the target by less than a millimeter and bumped ineffectually back off toward the middle of the table. "I'm trying to come up with a way to blame anyone but myself for it."

Meeting Scott at Harry's to be slaughtered at pool was another symptom, he supposed, but at least it meant getting out of the mansion. He could go outside whenever he liked, but the fact that the weather was keeping everyone else in, more or less, made the place feel claustrophobic.

"How does one become 'distressingly' social?" Scott inquired mildly, eyeing the table thoughtfully. "Is there some standard of... antisocialness to which you aspire?" He gave Jean-Paul a crooked smile to counterbalance the inane comment.

"Absolutely. I pride myself on having a limited capacity to give a damn about others, and here I am again, seeking out company on a regular basis. It must be something in the water here." Jean-Paul lounged easily against the table, seemingly at peace with the idea of being schooled at the game. "Maybe if I talk about myself often enough, I can keep up my reputation, do you think?"

"Well," Scott said somewhat disingenuously, "I do like think of myself as a good listener..." And a better pool player. His next shot was perfect, two balls cleared from the table despite the seemingly impossible angles.

"And adept at dishing out humility on top of that. I should just start buying your victory drinks the moment you walk through the door, but that would ruin your fun, wouldn't it?" He at least managed to get his next shot where he wanted it. "How is Jean doing? Is the arm better?"

"It's getting there. Whoever said doctors make the worst patients didn't really know what they were talking about - doctors kknow enough not to mess around with their recovery." Scott sighed, taking a step back from the table and shaking his head quizzically. "I don't like it when the shoe is on the other foot. Makes me resolved to keep my nose clean and unbruised in the field in future."

"Speaking of fieldwork, could you get me access to the Danger Room tomorrow evening? I'd like to put together something a bit more challenging than the rock wall in the gym so far as climbing exercises go. And perhaps a training program as well. I may not be on a team, but I think I've gone as far as I can testing my agility in the woods here."

"I suspect I could pencil you in for an hour or two," Scott said. "I've got to work on the schedule anyway. Fit in the X-Men, and the kids, and our latest visitor from Canada..."

"The infamous Lilian." Jean-Paul snorted. "I did not socialize with Beta Flight so much, but I heard stories."

"I'm not sure what we should be doing with her. Ororo and I have to sit down and talk some more - I'm not used to training people who aren't intending to be X-Men. I need to ask for volunteers, I suppose." Scott shrugged, reclaiming his beer and taking a sip.

"I saw that she is working outside of the school, so I assume she is not going to teach. Why is she here if not to be an X-Man? Is there a Canadian exchange program now? They get Wolverine, you get Kane, you get Lil, and then next thing I know, I'm Hudson's problem again?" Jean-Paul's tone was light. Someone had started up Heart on the jukebox, and the band was just as bad as he remembered.

Scott just smiled. "Stranger things have happened," he said. "I get a call from Budapest every week or so, from the guy who's setting up a similar team there. They're using our model a little more directly. But I suppose this is the price of success," he went on, setting his beer back down.

"An odd sort of success." If Scott didn't want to discuss Lil's particulars, that was fine, not to mention reassuring so far as his own privacy went. "I take book in hand and go before the firing squad Monday. We get to see if all those lesson plans did a damn bit of good."

"Just remember, they can't actually eat you alive," Scott said with a perfectly straight face. "Even if some of them look a little carnivorous at times when you're standing up at the front of the classroom."

"It's moronic. I have taught before, and yet..." Jean-Paul tried for his next shot and actually skipped the cueballacross the felt. "Oh, for fuck's sake. Can't we just call this a mercy kill and be done with it?"

"You know, you really need some practice at this game," Scott observed innocently. "Maybe we should be doing this more often. I have no trouble at all playing instructor. You can pay me in beer."

"Why would I wish to waste even more time at this? I don't have to be good at everything." Because Nathan and Morgan were both still off places he wasn't allowed to know about, there was that damned social element again, and he liked Scott anyway. Jean-Paul sighed. "Tell me that sounded at least partially convincing."

"Not at all, sorry to say," Scott said, not sounding sorry at all. His smile was more fond than mocking, however. "Besides, it's not so much about the game. More about the experience."

"And you being guaranteed free drinks all night."

"Well, there is that."