Scott and Lil, backdated to Wednesday afternoon

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Lil stops in to see Scott, who discovers that he might have been using the wrong tactics with her all along.


"What the hell am I doing?" Lil wondered under her breath as she approached the door to Scott's suite. Knowing he was due for surgery the following day thanks to the Danger Room exploding, the blonde felt she should at least poke in and see how he was doing. The fact that she was following through with the idea - while sober, no less - both astounded and terrified her. "Quick visit, in and out. See how he is, score some points then off to Harry's." She took a deep breath and biting her lip, knocked.

Scott was, in fact, very bored. The effects of the concussion, which hadn't been so bad, were fading, and so the enforced lack of mobility was getting on his nerves. He had enough of a headache still that reading or working on the computer wasn't really an attractive option, and God knew there was nothing on TV in the middle of the afternoon. He'd actually descended to tossing crumpled-up papers for his very appreciative cat when the knock came at the door.

"Come in!" he called. When the door opened to reveal Lil, Scott tossed another paper-ball to force Desdemona to run in the other direction. "Hey," he said to the tall blonde. "I'm glad you stopped by. Eyes okay?"

Lil offered a weak smile in return, moreso at the cat than his greeting. He was glad she stopped by? Both hands were shoved into the pockets of her cropped denim shorts as she gave him a shrug of one shoulder. "They're fine. No problems with them since Saturday; unlike you with your knee. How you feeling?"

"Like I need a new leg," Scott said, not quite wryly, and waved at a chair. "Sit down. Keep the invalid company for a bit. I suspect Jean of having told people to let me rest, visitors have been so scarce."

"Thanks." So much for the 'in and out' plan. Lil took a deep breath and forced another, brighter smile before folding her tall frame into the seat. "So ,um, you gotta have surgery tomorrow?" she asked, crossing her legs and struggling for conversation. "How long you expecting to be outta the field?"

"Probably eight weeks, if I'm lucky," Scott said as cheerfully as he could. "It's my own damned fault, so I'm not going to sulk about it." At least, not publicly, and he didn't intend to test Jean's tolerance either. "Hopefully having the surgery will keep this from happening again - three knee dislocations is enough for a lifetime."

She couldn't help but wince at that. Not that she'd ever experienced such a thing - or even anything remotely like it, but still... "Ouch." Lil's nose wrinkled as she frowned at him. "Cutting people open to put them back together's never sat well with me," she admitted with a shake of her head. "And eight weeks in one hell of a long time."

"It's not so bad. Although the first time something blows up and I have to sit at home in the Situation Room, you'll probably hear me taking that back," Scott conceded with a snort.

The first hint of a genuine smile played across her face. "I'd been sitting on the sidelines while things exploded for three years before I came here," Lil reminded him. "Ain't something I'd ever want to do again."

"Something is going to explode, soon," Scott said thoughtfully, after a moment. "We've been too long without a major incident. I know that makes me sound completely paranoid, but there's a rhythm to these things... when you don't see it happening, it just means that it's building somewhere beneath the surface."

"Not paranoid. Realistic." Lil had been at the mansion long enough to realize that. True, she hadn't been part of helping to prevent some major tragedy but everyone living in the mansion seemed constantly poised for alarms to start going off. "Thing is: when things do go boom, you're gonna be trapped tossing paper balls at your cat."

"Unless they go boom within the next few days, I don't think so. I blew out my knee, Lil," Scott pointed out. "There's nothing wrong with my brain. And while I much prefer to be out in the field with my team, I know there's a valuable role to be played here, too. Sometimes strategy is more important than tactics."

Lil caught herself in time to stop the eyeroll before it started. Strategy wasn't something that have ever been pushed on her and the brick was much happier playing the first line of offence and defence while leaving the thinking side of things to those who were good at it. "I didn't mean it like that," came her attempt at an apology. "Valuable role or not, you just said you like the field better which means there's some part of you that's gonna be going nuts when you don't getta hit the ground running with everyone else."

"Oh, no question about that," Scott agreed easily, "but it's a part of me I try not to listen to. I've had to learn..." He gave her a crooked smile. "It's a work in progress. Isn't everything?"

"So I've been told," she replied, shifting uncomfortably just a bit. Lil had no desire to start back down the road she always seemed to end up on when it came to Scott; one that lead to frustration and defensive maneuvers. Better to nip that in the bud. "Sometime during your recuperation, you should head down to the garage, look at the newcomer."

"I've heard about the newcomer," Scott said with a more natural grin. "Once I'm on my feet again we should go for a ride some night. Whoever gets the speeding ticket loses."

One golden brow rose as Lil regarded him. "Depends on the other rules. We allowed to punch the cop out if we get stopped?"

"Goodness no," Scott said. "The whole point is to talk your way out of the speeding ticket." He grinned shamelessly. "Surely you could manage that even better than I do. Male traffic cops are a lot more common."

"Don't stereotype," she growled with a playful smirk. "Some of the chick cops like tits, too, and I bet couple of the men would be pretty sweet on your face. None of which has anything to do with talking unless you count body language."

"I think you might be very good at the game," Scott said. "I mean, this is assuming you can keep up with me on that new bike of yours..."

Her brow rose again. "Just because I ain't built like a jockey doesn't mean I can't get speed outta my mount, Swe-Scott." Her usual endearment was twisted quickly into his name. Too casual, too fast, even if it was following the strain of conversation. "She's got plenty where it counts and more than enough to keep up with you."

"We'll see," Scott said cheerfully, and blinked as Desdemona jumped up onto the arm of Lil's chair, regarding her steadily. "Well, look at you, supposedly anti-social cat..."

Lil's smirk turned softer and she extended a hand slowly, palm up towards the feline; stopping just short so it could investigate her fingertips. "My bio-aura gives off a little bit of heat," she explained. "I'm just a big, warm petting machine." Which reminded her that she need to catch up with Catseye soon and see how the girl was doing.

Challenge her to a bike race and throw the cat at her. Why did these tactics not occur to me before? Scott thought, amused.