Zanne and Jean-Paul, backdated to February 27th

[x-cynosure.livejournal.com]

Zanne and Jean-Paul get to talk for the first time since Murderworld.



The rustle of grocery bags and a mildly annoyed tone of voice were what alerted Zanne to the presence of the school's resident speedster.

"So what is broken, wrecked or on fire this time?" The question came from around the vicinity of her feet, though at least not entirely blocking her route out from under the sink.

"Lost ring," came the somewhat muffled reply. "One of the kids managed to drop it down the drain earlier." Zanne slithered out from under the sink and looked up at JP. "You don't need to use the sink right now, do you?"

"It will wait." Jean-Paul headed to the bags on the table and rummaged about until he found a tangelo. "Ordinarily, I would just move up to my suite, but I'm going to need more space than the kitchenette affords me." He sat down, peeling his snack. "I thought this was Kyle's job."

"I've been deputized," she informed him, taking a moment to swipe several stray wisps of hair off her face and pull them back into a loose bun. "Kyle has his classes to worry about and I've rather been at loose ends lately, so I volunteered to help out." She shrugged. "I actually expected it to be worse, but mostly it's just basic upkeep and cleaning up after random acts of foolishness."

"We are good at those." No use blaming it all on the students; he doubted disposing of his failed attempts at "cooking" for Cammie had done the plumbing any favors. "Do you mind if I ask what you do here on a full-time basis? We did not have a chance to talk very much before being dropped into the maze, and since then...well, I have kept myself busy."

"So I've heard." If the rumblings she'd heard from the students were anything to go by, JP was likely to be a shoo-in for teacher of the year. Field-trips nonwithstanding, of course. Climbing up off the floor, she grabbed an apple of her own out of a hanging basket. "At the moment, this pretty much is my full-time job. I got laid off in October, and shockingly enough there seem to be very few jobs for financial consultants right now." She smiled wryly. "Go figure."

"I am guessing that Frost and Elpis have all the help they need on that front." Jean-Paul rose to dispose of the remains of the fruit. "Well, if the worst happens, I suppose the silver lining is that those of us in the genetically advantaged department will have the best shot at fighting our way to the front of the breadline."

"Mmm. I could hold the crowds back while you nipped in and out with the soup cauldron. No-one would be the wiser." Zanne replied, a little distractedly. The truth was, she hadn't considered asking Frost or Elpis for a job. It was a matter of pride, she supposed, to not be so dependent on yet another X-Men connection for her livelihood. She was so tangled up in obligations to them as it was. "Do you like teaching here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"It seems to have unearthed a deeply-buried paternal streak that I was previously unaware of," Jean-Paul said, grimacing at the confession. "I'm certain that this can only end disastrously, perhaps with pistols at dawn where Callie or Yvette's potential suitors are concerned."

"We do have enough property out back where we can bury the bodies if need be," she pointed out reasonably. "I can show you where we keep the shovels."

"Oh, I think we are going to get on well," Jean-Paul said, grinning wickedly. "So what do you do when you are not assisting Kyle?"

"I am making prodigious progress through the contents of the library and periodically coercing Manuel into visiting various cultural institutions with me, although there has been less of that recently." She crunched into her apple, enjoying the sharpness of the first bite. "And then there's the whole running around in black leather thing," she added thoughtfully.

"Do you mind if I ask what drew you to that when you had an outside life?" Jean-Paul contemplated his shopping bags, then began putting his groceries away. This might take longer than he'd anticipated and he had shrimp waiting.

"My overwhelming desire to do good with the gifts God gave me, of course. Isn't that what brings everyone here?" Zanne gave him a blandly innocent look. It wasn't the the entire truth but it wasn't a lie either, and there was no sense in dredging up the past. "I'd been working on my own for a while, and things were starting to become difficult. When Scott offered me the opportunity to work with a team, I jumped at it. It's been different from what I expected."

"I must have missed the memo. I was under the impression that it was trauma and a lack of better options that kept this place populated." He tucked the last of his purchases away and shut the fridge behind him. "I think 'different' encapsulates this place nicely. Or perhaps 'contrary'."

"'Contrary' works. I don't suppose we can help ourselves." Zanne laughed and pitched her apple core into the trash. "Well, let me check the trap and get out of your way. Making anything good?"

"When spring looms closer, I begin longing for fresh greens and seafood," the Jean-Paul admitted. "You're welcome to join me, if you like."

"I'd like that," she replied with a smile. "Thanks."