Jean-Paul and Jean

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul comes down, ostensibly for a physical but really because it's time to talk.



The door to Jean's office was open, but knocking on the door frame served just as well to get her attention. Jean-Paul stood at the threshold of her domain, trying to look nonchalant and failing utterly.

"I am here for my physical," he supplied. This wasn't something he normally kept on top of -- he couldn't recall the last time he'd actually been ill (as opposed to wounded, poisoned, or irradiated) -- but it had seemed like a good idea to schedule with Jean rather than wait for someone (possibly Voght) to notice that he hadn't had an actual baseline exam in some time. Also, like most emotional cowards, he had other reasons.

Jean looked up and then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Huh. Right on time. Somehow I was expecting you to loiter. Not that you loiter often, I know, but it seemed likely this once. Guess I lost my bet and have to buy myself a drink. Come on in."

"Merci." Jean-Paul offered her a quiet smile and headed into the office. "I confess, it is not my favorite activity, but I thought it might be a good idea to let you get some readings during a time when I do not require emergency care or am in a state of flux, perhaps store some blood for later. It has been a long summer, best to make sure everything is still working."

The redhead's eyebrows went up at that, and she couldn't help a grin. "Hey, look at that. Sensible talk. If you weren't gay and I wasn't already married I would propose on the spot. Anyone I don't have to drug or bribe to get them in for their standard physical goes on the good list. Shall we adjourn to an exam room, or did you have anything you wanted to talk about first?"

The question nearly generated an automatic denial from the speedster, and even resulting in a few moments of mental sputtering before he reminded himself who he was talking to. "Because I am normally so chatty?" he stalled.

The look Jean gave him would be best described as 'flat', if one were being kind to JP, but 'unimpressed' was really more the thing. "Yes, exactly," she said, arching an eyebrow.

"I...ah...perhaps had an ulterior motive." Perhaps it was best to get it out of the way before he was sitting on an exam table in his underwear. "I wanted to apologize. And to say thank you. For..." Spit it out, Beaubier. "...for saving my life. Back on the roof."

"See, surely for that you could take a seat and at least pretend to make yourself comfortable," was Jean's first response. "Not that any apologies are needed. I get it. Rather better than I'd like."

There really wasn't any way to make this conversation comfortable, but Jean-Paul did at least take a seat. "I cannot say I am particularly happy for that."

"No, happiness would definitely not be my first reaction to any of what happened to either of us," Jean agreed. "I at least have some significant temporal distance and vast quantities of therapy behind me already, so I'm glad to see you are doing as well as you are."

"I am mostly worried about what is going to happen when Xavier decides I am doing well enough to pry up the floorboards." Jean-Paul slumped in his seat. "It is very odd when what you have to look forward to is a setback, but healing is supposed to be like that, I think?"

Jean's smile was wry. "Clearly you've not done a lot of physical therapy over the years. Yes, I think healing a deep seated wound does have an awful lot to do with pushing limits and sometimes breaking things to put them back together."

"I am suddenly feeling much less confident about this whole physical," Jean-Paul muttered, tossing an exaggerated look of longing toward the door. "Can we pretend I was very stoic about the whole thing and checked out just fine?"

At that the redhead snorted. "Nice try, Jean-Paul. But I promise not to break you for just a physical. Come on, let's go to an exam room; it ought to be quick."