Lil and Jake, Wednesday evening

[x-courier.livejournal.com]

Jake takes Lil out for drinks after her meeting with Charles. In return, she tries to kill him with chicken wings, and gives him The Talk for good measure.



"This is the place?" Jake said, wrinkling his nose as he pulled into the parking lot of the bar Lil had directed him to. It certainly wasn't the worst dive he'd ever been to, or even the worst dive in New York that he'd ever been to, but it certainly wasn't any place he would've chosen.

Of course, he still had powdered sugar on his tie, so it's not like he could make any claims towards class or taste at the moment.

"Are you paying?" Lil asked as she walked to the door, feeling far better now that she'd changed back into a pair of tight jeans and deep purple halter top and out of what she usually referred to as her funeral clothes. "No. Therefore, I pick. And this place has cheap shots, decent food and a loaded jukebox. I promise I won't let any of the big bad boys inside bruise your pretty face," the blonde added with a wink, her fingers wrapping around Jake's wrist before flashing the bouncer a grin and dragging him inside.

Cigarette smoke and the sharp tang of wings hung in the air that was full of typical bar noises; rock and roll, mumbled and clashing conversations, the clink of glass bottle to bartop... Lil was in her element. Keeping her hold on the shapeshifter, she pulled him along toward a small table tucked back against the far wall while shooting warning glares at a few drunks who looked as if they wanted to get friendly with either - or both - of the newcomers.

Despite his grumbling, Jake had a grin on his face as they slid into the booth. "So tell me about the thrilling adventures of Lil and Mist," he demanded once the waitress had taken their orders. "What sorts of trouble have you two managed to get into?"

She shook her head, sending the long curls bouncing over her shoulders. "Nothing recently. Too damn busy being responsible and shit," Lil told him, tapping the end of her fork against the table. "It's like a fucking disease, I swear," the Amazon laughed. "And it took me less than six months to catch it. Playing chaperone at a prom after doing a little girl's hair. Saving a buncha students from terrorists. Pulling kids outta crashed trains and trees. Doesn't leave much time for riding with the wind."

He grinned. "Welcome to Xavier's," he said. "It's amazing how quickly they drag you in, isn't it?"

"These six months haven't been 'quick' by any stretch of the imagination," Lil chuckled darkly though her smile grew when she spied the waitress bringing back their drinks. "Good service," the giantess muttered before taking up her whiskey and throwing back half of the tumbler immediately. "So, who was you're little meeting with today?"

"Cammie," he said immediately, taking a drink of his own whiskey; he didn't really want to talk about his trip to see Jean. "I promised Jean-Paul I'd drag her out for some fresh air."

Lil nodded her approval, swirling the liquid around in her glass for a moment before taking another sip. "Good. She needs to get out. I, on the other hand, had to drink tea this afternoon."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what the problem with tea is?" he asked rhetorically. "You can't really put alcohol in it. You can add alcohol to your coffee, or to your Coke, but it just doesn't work well in tea." He smiled in sympathy. "Would this meeting be with the esteemed Professor Xavier?"

"I dunno what the hell you're talking about but you can damn well put a shot of Jameson in tea," the bartendress scoffed. "I bet a chocolate liqueur with some chai could be interesting, too. But yeah, Summers sent me to the Principal's office 'causa what happened in Hungary when Trask got into my head." Her nose wrinkled in distaste and Lil took the final swallow of her drink then took up the bottle their waitress had left behind for a refill.

Jake pushed his glass towards her for a top off. "Am I supposed to ask about this Hungary thing?" He'd watched the news with Jean-Paul--not that he'd really been given much choice in the matter, as it was either that or watch the speedster pace a groove in his floor--but had no clue what had happened to Lil.

After filling his glass, the Canadian gave him a typical one-shouldered shrug. "You're not supposeda do anything but get drunk with me but if you wanna know, I was stationed with Dayspring and Forge at the school and we got attacked and fucking Trask got in my head. I can take hits from anyone, anywhere 'cept my damn brain. Invulnerably only goes so far," Lil spat then paused in her story to take a sip. "I went after Nate and Forge busted his arm up stopping me. Then Dayspring played some fucking mental games with me and I went on the final assault..." Her head dropped back and she blew out a long breath. "Got shot a coupla times, no biggie. Took one to the head and it stung but not as bad as knowing Trask coulda made me do anything just about. Oh yeah, and then I gave up sex with a really hot Hungarian man because Jimminy Cricket showed up sounding a fucking lot like my estranged husband. Pretty sure that covers my trip in a nutshell."

He blinked. Was she drunk already? "Sounds...rough," he said, taking a sip of his whiskey to buy a moment. He tilted his head, looking at her curiously. "Dayspring was messing with your head?"

"No," Lil answered, her eyes focused on the glass clutched between her hands. "Not really. Just told me to get my act together when I tried to tell him I ain't good on the team if I'm a liability. Don't need people going down 'causa friendly fire and I'm pretty fucking easy to screw with when it comes to brain shots. Which is why I'm now taking lessons in shielding from Chuck." Another swig and she shook her head slowly as a cheshire grin came back to her lips. "You don't wanna hear this shit."

He shrugged, giving her a little smile. "Like you said, you're buying." He finished off his glass and then poured them another round. "Shielding's not easy, but it's amazing how helpful it is," he said offhandedly. "At least in my line of work."

"I don't like having a weakness like that. And if I'm gonna make Alpha, I can't have a weakness like that," the blonde woman said, taking another long draw. "I've worked my ass off for the last six months. Been away from my home, from my husband, my friends so I'm damn well gonna get what I want."

"Everybody has weaknesses," he said with another shrug, trying not to dwell on the events of his last three days. He glanced up at her. "What's the difference between Alpha Flight and here?"

"Alpha is home," Lil said simply before sipping her whiskey.

"Fair enough," he replied. He raised a conspiratorial eyebrow over his glass. "You knew Jean-Paul there, right? Any good stories?"

"Actually, I only knew of him," she clarified. Eyes flicked toward the movement nearby, the waitress returning with a plate of wings. Suicide. "And I don't get him out drinking often enough though he is the only gay man who's ever told me to take my pants off."

Jake smirked. "That sounds about right." He eyed the wings carefully. "These are going to try to kill me, aren't they?"

"Probably," she laughed as she dug into the plate. "Since we're kinda on the topic, I sorta feel like I gotta make the obligatory 'I don't care what the two of you are doing but if you hurt him I'm gonna turn your tongue into a bow tie and your testicles into Christmas tree ornaments' comment but I figure we're too mature for that, eh?" Another wicked grin and the blonde tore at tore at the meat with her teeth.

"You'd have to get in line," he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly as he fished a wing from the plate. "You know, I've had that conversation plenty of times, but no one ever says that to anyone I'm sleeping with. I'm not sure what that says about me or the people I fuck." Yes, these wings were going to try to kill him. "I'd like to think that it's because people think I can take care of myself, but I'm not nearly that self-delusional."

"I can admit to being completely selfish in this matter; he's gloomy, I don't get fed," Lil pointed out with a smile, waving a bone in his direction. "He's one of mine and you can be damn sure if he was interesting in my tits, I wouldn't be complaining about about my forced celibacy. As it is, that ain't ever gonna happen so I getta be the over-protective bitch who annoys the hell outta him and his friends then makes it up to them with large amounts of alcohol."

He grinned at that. "So what you're saying is that I need better friends?"

"Wanda isn't bad," the Canadian said, tossing another cleaned wing back on the plate and instead of reaching for another, took a long draw of the whiskey. "Might wanna find someone you can bribe, though. Fallback plan."

"She's not at all," he agreed, finishing his whiskey and pushing his glass towards her again. "That's the problem with the people I hang out with, though--I'm the bribeable one."

With an impressed nod, Lil refilled his glass then topped off her before raising it in cheers. "To us, the bribeable ones. My our hungers never lead us too far astray. And if they do, we die happy and content."

He clinked his glass against hers. "I'll drink to that."