log: warren and jean
Jan. 29th, 2011 08:04 pm(backdated!) Jean and Warren catch up over drinks, and Jean has a proposition for Warren.
Catching up with old friends was something Warren didn't do nearly enough, so it was nice to actually take the time to do so. He weaved his way back to the table he and Jean were occupying, setting a drink down in front of her with a smile.
"There we go."
"Why thank you, kind sir. Gentlemanly as always," Jean said with a grin. She picked up the drink, holding it up to him in a toast gesture.
"Sláinte," she said.
"My pleasure, my dear," he replied, maneuvering back into his chair.
"Sláinte," he echoed, clinking his glass against hers before taking a drink.
"So how have you been? I don't think we've had much of a chance to really hang out recently. Tell me all the gossip."
Quirking a brow, Jean couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm okay. Everyone else has their own trials and tribulations that they usually keep from me unless it escalates into requiring the need for a white lab coat and a doctor's bag," Jean said, resting her chin in her hands with a smirk.
"I kind of like it that way." At times. But sometimes she missed it.
"And how have you been out in the world of business suits and power lunches?"
"Some people," he said in reply to her story, comically rolling his eyes. "It's..." Warren shrugged. "It is what it is, I guess. I don't know if me being around is really helping my father or causing him more stress, and I know I'd rather be doing something else."
He flashed Jean a smile. "But my mother is pleased to have me around. That's something, right?"
Jean leaned back in her chair, picking up her drink. She took a sip.
"Have you tried talking to him? Sometimes just saying things aloud can help," she said.
"If he's used to running things, having someone else around is a big step."
"He is," Warren said with a quirk of his lips. "And he also doesn't like facing the fact that he's sick. I think me being around reminds him, and he hates that." He shrugged. "Plus I'm a terrible disappointment and he's ashamed of the fact his only son is a mutant. When I was on the other side of the country, he could forget about that."
Putting her glass down, Jean shook her head. "I'm sorry, Warren," she said, putting her hand on his arm.
It was the only condolence she could give, because in her mind a flash of anger flared up.
She was a diplomat, and presented herself that way in Washington, but there were days when she had little tolerance, especially when it came to someone's own family.
"Only my father would be disappointed by having a lawyer in the family." He rolled his eyes. "But enough about my problems. You had something you wanted to talk to me about."
"It's unfortunate that some people can be so blinded by the fear of what they don't know that it turns to hate," Jean said, running her finger around the rim of her glass.
There were days when it felt like an uphill battle.
"Are you familiar with a medical facility on the outskirts of District X called Angels Clinic? They cater to both mutants and humans alike."
"And they let it turn them against their family." Warren shrugged, draining his glass. He wasn't the first person to have family issues like this, and he certainly wasn't going to be the last.
He looked thoughtful at her question, and then eventually shook his head. "I haven't heard of it, actually."
Jean nodded. "It's a great facility, but unfortunately the clinic has fallen on hard times after Day Zero and they're afraid they may have to close their doors. This will create a huge loss for District X because many of the residents receive their medical care there due to being turned away elsewhere."
She smiled. "I know you've taken on a few pet projects in the past and I was wondering if you might be interested in another one."
"What?" Warren straightened up at that, paying closer attention. "No, that certainly is something I would be interested. I've been thinking about investing in District X for awhile, and Jean-Paul has been showing me around a little. But I think this is more important than buying property."
Picking up her glass, Jean's smile widened. "I figured this might be something up your alley...and it seems kind of fitting that it's called 'Angels' Clinic," she mused.
She took a sip. "I think they will be...completely overjoyed to hear the news."
"It's like it and I were meant to be." Warren grinned over at Jean. "I'll clear my schedule for Monday, you can introduce me to them." There was a pause for him. "Provided you're also free, of course."
"I have class until about 3:00pm. But they're having a test so the majority will speed their way through leaving a few of the stragglers. But I should be available after that.," Jean said.
"The clinic is open until about 6:00pm anyway. I'll give Maria-Luisa the heads up."
"Sounds perfect. If you give me a call when you're leaving Westchester, I'll extract myself from work and we can meet there." Warren shifted in his chair, settling in a little.
"Thank you for bringing this to me," he said, a little seriously. "Even if all I can do is throw money at it, being able to help... I miss it." His work in California had been far more hands on, helping mutants with their legal problems. Working with his father didn't help anyone, from what he could tell.
"It's more than just 'throwing money at it,'" Jean said. She smiled.
"You're making a difference for these people, and for an entire community. You're saving people's lives. Don't sell yourself short."
She held up her glass for a toast. The smile turned into a grin.
"I'm thanking you."
Warren flashed her a grin of his own, raising his glass to meet hers.
"And now I shall die a happy man, having elicited a smile and the gratitude of the always stunning Dr Jean Grey." His words were a little flippant, Warren trying to brush off the seriousness of the moment with a little lighthearted teasing and flirting.
"To the Angels Clinic," he pronounced. "May it's wings never be clipped."
"The always stunning, still married, but quite flattered Dr.Jean Grey-Summers," Jean said with amusement. She didn't mind a little back and forth every once and awhile. Especially with good friends.
"And hear hear," she added, lightly clinking her glass against his.