Scott and Jean-Paul - Backdated to the night of the 7th

[x-cynosure.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul and Scott discuss their recent adventures over drinks at Harry's.




Despite his talk with Angelo, Jean-Paul was feeling no less inclined to worry about Nathan, especially as the evening drew on. No, he was not worrying. He was sulking, and Harry's was doing a poor job of accommodating his mood. People were not being nearly loud enough to help him feel invisible. Feeding quarters into the jukebox wasn't helping either; too deliberate an attempt at distraction. And so it was down to drink.

"I'm surprised to see you drinking alone." He hadn't seen Scott come through the door, let alone advance on his corner table. The younger man offered him a brief, faintly weary smile and sank into the chair opposite his. "I hear it's been quite a week, though. Mass kidnappings again. That's a fad I wish would go out of fashion."

"I trust myself enough to get drunk again. I call that progress." Jean-Paul greeted Scott with a small salut. "We got through more or less all right. A few bandages, a few bad dreams. It could have been a lot worse. Welcome back, anyway. How was Madripoor?"

The laugh he got in response to that question was abrupt, and perhaps just a little cracked-sounding. "Oh, you know. Pirates. Illegal doings. Fisticuffs and body-snatching."

Jean-Paul grimaced. "Who was doing the snatching?" He signaled a waitress over; that laugh was practically a plea for alcohol.

"You know, I haven't the foggiest idea. Which is embarassing given that I was the one who got snatched and wound up in another country entirely over the course of the following twenty-four hours... I think we should all count our blessings that Jean didn't leave any craters anywhere." Scott smiled a bit too brightly at the waitress. "I'll have a scotch. Make it a double."

"Sounds completely unappealing. I assume the lovely Dr. Grey cleared you for lingering parasites and such?" Jean-Paul put in for another vodka and cranberry juice while he had the chance.

"Oh, yes. She, uh, checked me over quite thoroughly." The urge to burst out laughing was really not at all healthy. Scott eyed Jean-Paul instead. "You're okay? One of these days I really have to talk one of our telekinetics into hitting Arcade with a bus."

"Julian would risk shoving Jean and Nathan both out of the way for a chance at that. I imagine the boy is bearing a lot of undeserved guilt on his shoulders. Once I've gotten myself together enough to be of some use, I'll need to go talk to him." Jean-Paul finally paused to consider Scott's question for a moment and he did laugh. "Nate kicked me out."

"Is this a reason for being okay, or not-okay?"

"Not-okay enough that I decided that getting away from my friend and my students and going out to get drunk was the best option." Jean-Paul frowned, poking at the ice in his glass with one bandaged hand. "He would not see me this morning. Angelo said he would keep an eye out, but...whatever happened he's trying to protect me from it now. That is not how this works! If I am having nightmares, so what? I will get over it! He has a family and that is more important and he's being a
complete idiot!" Jean-Paul's frown deepened to a scowl as he reined back his tirade and drained his glass.

The waitress showed back up with their drinks, and Scott sipped at his scotch for a moment before he answered. "Psis are... funny that way," he said after a moment. "I think because they have to have it together, or they're walking natural disasters. So when their grasp on control starts getting shaky, they tend to overreact."

"I am not letting him get away with it," Jean-Paul muttered. "He's not getting any better and..." He sighed. "I am not sure what else I can do. For him. For the students. I don't feel as if I'm doing anything that's useful."

"I'd dispute that," Scott said immediately. "You're doing the best you can, and you're there - you can't force anything more on any of them. You can't fix things, but you can make living with them easier." It was a lesson he'd had to learn himself.

"The infamous patience of speedsters, non? If the matter is not resolved in an hour or less, you're obviously doing something wrong." Jean-Paul tried for a smile, but it was a terrible fit and he let it go. "You said you were going to see about your father. Is he all right?"

Scott nearly choked on his drink, and set it down carefully. "He's...fine," he said, visibly flustered. "Um... a little banged up, but as he informed me, he's had worse."

Jean-Paul couldn't decide if he was appalled or far too amused by this. "You didn't."

"It wasn't me," Scott protested, still managing to look thoroughly guilty. "I think the person wearing my body was under orders to go discourage pursuit, or something..."

"Of course; I should have made the connection." "Contrite" was not an emotion that Jean-Paul managed often, but this occasion appeared to be an exception. "But he will recover? So there is even less need to feel bad about it."

"I tried to blast Jean a couple of times, too," Scott muttered, picking his glass back up. "Or, well, he did."

That confession drew a small, disapproving sound from the speedster. "So...how much of a 'was' is this person now?"

"I wish. I gather Jean made a bargain. He let me go unhurt, and she didn't tear him apart on the molecular level." Scott raised his glass. "Here's to overprotective spouses. I need to sit down with Charles and see if he can shake any more loose about this body thief, or anything else I may have overheard."

Jean-Paul shook his head. "I have no idea how you are managing to be so casual about people walking around in your head."

Scott just shrugged, although there was a hint of something in his real eye that suggested the casual attitude was not quite as all-encompassing as it seemed. "Really? I'm a little shaken up by it, but when you rank it on the scale of possession experiences around here... it was pretty harmless, all things considered."

"Perhaps that should have been the entirety of my report to Xavier and Munroe," Jean-Paul said, opting not to press. "'Pretty harmless, all things considered.' I doubt they would have believed me, though."

"There's a sliding scale of traumas around here. Amazing how a familiarity with it can lend a certain sense of perspective in cases like this." Scott took a healthy swallow of his scotch. "You've just been away for too long. Don't worry, it's like riding a bicycle - you'll get the hang of it again soon."