[Backdated, Last Friday] LOG: Jean-Paul and Betsy

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It had occurred to Jean-Paul at some point over the past week that he was most likely an utter sham of a role model. This was not a particularly distressing thought; it meant that he could afford to feel that much less awkward about being stretched out barefoot on the lawn and feeling the sweat on his body cool while he waited for his heart rate to come down. He still had Jay Guthrie beat for speed when they practiced aerial maneuvers, but the boy gave him a work-out every time.

"Feeling your age, are we?" Purple hair flooded his field of vision, as a woman stood above him, blotting out the sun. "Though your recent shenanigans with Nate would suggest that you feel more than youthful these days. I'd go as far to say that you're a lake visit away from having your IQ drop a few double-digits."

"If the lake causes brain damage, then I am already beyond hope." The speedster rolled onto his side with a grin, then stood, not bothering to brush the clover out of his hair. "But if it comes down to taking me out behind the boathouse and putting a bullet in my head, you will do the honors, won't you?"

"Oh no," Betsy said, stepping back and giving Jean-Paul room to stand. "I think a few others would be quite upset if I jumped the queue." She smiled and pulled a clover from his hair. "I doubt this will bring you much luck but I have to ask, what were you doing just now?"

"So thoughtful. No wonder I have missed you." Jean-Paul shook his head lightly and combed his fingers through the fall of glossy black in search of errant greenery. "Until about ten minutes ago, I was proving to Jay Guthrie that I am not so old and decrepit that I cannot show him and thing or two in the air, even if he does have sharper edges. It works better than the Danger Room." No safety measures keeping you at lower speeds, for example.

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder," Betsy said, dubiously. She took a glance upwards and smiled. "Normally, I'd probably say something about proper control parameters, blah, blah, blah."

"Yes, yes. Terrible example, impressionable minds, fearless leader on crutches as it is, bad speedster - no cookie. It all pales next to being able to rag on the younger generation for that much longer." He flashed her a sharp, cocky grin. "What brings you out this way?"

"You're incorrigible but that is usually a bonus here." Jean-Paul was always good for a laugh. Betsy tried to school her features, failing miserably. "Oh, I wanted to check in with Charles and try and steal David away for lunch."

"That will be good for him, I think. Do I get to ask what has kept you away so long? I seem to recall you being around the school more way back when."

"I like to think so," she said rather smugly. "And no, you may not. What I've been doing isn't for public consumption and I'd rather not be responsible for the inadvertent coronary of my associates if such information happened to get out. Besides, I plan to be around more often. Things seem to be calming down a bit and I'd like the time for some R&R."

"That is some good news, anyway." Jean-Paul let the other topic drop, stretched and fell into a relaxed stance. "I am counting the days until summer, myself. I have no idea where I am going to go, but it will be a change of scenery where I will set fire to any paperwork that gets within twenty feet of my person."

Betsy studied Jean-Paul's face, carefully before speaking. "Will you be try to see Aurora while you're gone?"

The relaxation bled away.

"I suppose you have not heard," he said, his voice level. "My sister took off on her own some time ago. I chased her for a year -- she is either beyond finding or does not want to be found." He'd said the words so many times, and they still felt like an excuse. "I will not set out after her again, not unless I have some new lead to follow."

"No, I hadn't heard." Betsy placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." She more than most understood the devastating affects of losing a sibling. "Perhaps you need more resourceful friends? I'd be willing to call in a few favors and see if they know of anything."

Somehow, these people kept surprising him. The sympathy he had rather expected. The offer that followed, not so much.

"If they could find out anything, I would be grateful." He didn't pull away from the hand on his shoulder. "Even if I just get to bury her...at least I know."

"I know," Betsy said softly. At least Death would bring closure. "I'll do everything in my power to see what I can find." She squeezed tighter before releasing her hold on him. The moment over. She looked at her watch. There was never enough time in the day anymore. "Want to walk me to my first appointment?"

Jean-Paul managed to find a bit of his humor again and offered his arm, though part of his concentration had drifted elsewhere. "If madame does not mind being escorted by one so sweaty and disheveled, most certainly."

"I'll have to suffer through it," Betsy said as she took his hand in hers. After a few minutes of silence together, she spoke just as they entered the doors of the school. "We'll find out about Aurora one way or another. I promise."