Vanessa & Jean-Paul | Thursday Morning

[x-quebecois.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul kidnaps Vanessa for coffee and a trip to the museum.


They’d planned to meet up at Vanessa’s favorite coffee shop, but of course the speedster had gotten there first and was conveniently seated at a table. Sneaking in behind others and ducking around so she could sidle up from behind and to the side of Jean-Paul, Vanessa opted to slide right into his lap. She timed it, of course, because she had no desire for coffee down her back or in her lap. With a grin, the metamorph cupped the Quebecois’ face in her hands and made quite a show of kissing each of the man’s cheeks, then the tip of his nose. “Bonjour, mon ami!” Vanessa’s smile was downright beaming.

Jean-Paul raised his brows a bit when a warm body slid into his lap, though he was half-grinning by the time Vanessa finished kissing the end of his nose. “Bonjour,” he said, laughing a little. “You enjoyed yourself, I think? Wales agreed with you?” He settled his arms around her waist to hold her in place, deciding he could forgo his coffee drink for the moment, since his best friend had returned.

Bouncing a bit in his lap with a little side-to-side sway, Vanessa’s eyes lit up. “Aye. I’m far more sane as well. Lo and behold, the sea and the fresh air and the ponies - which I promise would never eat you - and the gardening was lovely. I’ve a mind to pack up and go back but that doesn’t seem practical and I’d feel terrible for abandoning the office and my people.” A fingertip came to rest at the end of Jean-Paul’s nose on that last word. “It’d be a terribly unforgivable sin and somehow I’m not sure the lot of you would truly appreciate me stuffing you all into luggage trunks to take with me.”

“I am bendy,” Jean-Paul said, nodding so his nose rubbed against the pad of Vanessa’s finger, “But not so bendy that I would fit in a suitcase, I think.” He poked at her side a little, then let his expression shift into something very like solemnity. “This question, its answer is very important, mon ami.” He paused - dramatically - before asking, “What did you bring me?”

With a completely serious tone and excited expression Vanessa said, “A pony.” She left the “flesh-eating” bit off since she figured he would infer that given their conversation about the horses up on Llanmadoc.

Jean-Paul pretended to consider that for a long moment, then frowned just ever so slightly. “You have brought me an animal that will eat me? I do not think I like this so much.”

“But you seem to enjoy being eaten so much,” she replied with as genuinely confused a voice as she could manage.

Reaching up, Jean-Paul tweaked the end of Vanessa’s nose. “Will is not a horse. When he eats me, it does not hurt.”

Barely suppressing her giggling, Vanessa tried to look contemplative. “Are you saying our darling William is not genitally gifted, mi amor?”

“I am saying,” Jean-Paul said, attempting to choose his words carefully, “That he is not attempting to bite pieces of me off.”

An eyebrow quirked and she issued a scandalized, “Monsiuer Beaubier! Have you had inappropriate relations with equines in the past who grew over zealous in their affections? Were you able to reach the surgeons in time for them to...reattach the damage?”

Jean-Paul wasn’t entirely sure how they’d gotten to this point in the conversation, but since only two people had cast incredulous glances their way, he didn’t really see any reason to attempt to curb it. “While I have had many sexual experiences in my life, mon ami, horses have never featured in anything. Oui, and I was thinking more of my rear being eaten, you see. Not the front.”

“I hardly think a horse could reach you there,” she told him, sounding as if she thought he was crazy. “Bit of an awkward angle for a horse, innit? They’re much more prone to shoulders and arms and heads. I think you’ve got your wires crossed about flesh-eating horses and bestiality, lovely.”

“They would take me unawares,” Jean-Paul said, still managing a serious expression. “And whatever the horse decided to do, I think it would be unpleasant. And so, though I thank you very much for the gift, I will have to let you keep it.”

“Ooooooh, pony for me!” Her voice had turned high-pitched and girlish, her exclamation accompanied by a delighted clap and bounce. “Though I suppose I could still give you that book I brought back for you. You didn’t seem like the squishy livestock sort. Which, for the record, I find to be a great failing of yours.”

“It is only the flesh-eating horses that I am not so fond of,” Jean-Paul said, jiggling his knee a little to keep Vanessa bouncing. “What is this book that you brought for me?” He grinned - if there was one thing that always made him smile, it was getting new books.

“It’s a book of Welsh folklore. It’s technically two books. One is all in Welsh and the other is an English translation that Rhiamon verified for me. It’s handy having a verifiable Welsh lady about for things like that. I wasn’t sure what I could possibly get you that you hadn’t read yet and it seemed like a viable option for the unknown.”

“Oui,” Jean-Paul said, reaching around Vanessa to get his coffee. He offered it to her for a sip as he continued, “I have never read Welsh folklore. I am not sure the Welsh part of the book will make any sense to me at all, but if nothing else... I can sound ridiculous when I try to say the words. I am looking forward to reading it, though.”

Sipping the coffee, a pleasurable sound greeted the taste of coffee. “I figured you could have the Welsh version for authenticity. It’s a very, very old book. More a collector’s item type of thing. However, without knowing what it says I figured the personal value would be diminished.”

Jean-Paul stole his coffee back from Vanessa and took a sip, himself, before nodding. “Mm... not diminished. It is only that I would have to find the translations for myself, oui? And so you have saved me a step.” Nodding toward the slice of lemon-glazed pound cake on the table and the bowl of fruit salad, he quirked his brow, “Breakfast? There are bran muffins, also, but I thought you would like the fruit more.”

That earned Jean-Paul a kiss on his cheek before she plucked a bit of melon from the bowl and popped it into her mouth. “Mm...you really are my favorite. Who needs a starter husband when I hit such gold with you the first time out? There is no upgrading possible here, mi amor.” She popped another bit of melon into her mouth. “You are the top tier of husbands, gay or no. Mm, and Welsh? Not an easy language. I’m not sure how well you could have found an accurate translation on your own. There aren’t many people who speak it anymore and finding copies of their folklore is exceedingly difficult. I had a hook up, though. Because I am awesome.”

Grinning, Jean-Paul leaned up and pressed a kiss to Vanessa’s cheek. “Oui, you are awesome. Only do not let this confirmation go to your head, mon ami. With great awesomeness comes great responsibility.”

She blinked at him with melodramatic slowness. “Responsibility? From awesomeness? What is this curse you speak of, knave!” If only she had a butter knife or a coffee stirrer she could have made a fantastic slicing motion as if challenging him to a fencing duel! But, alas, Vanessa had to settle for looking affronted instead. It went with the knave comment.

Jean-Paul nodded, expression once again solemn. “Great responsibility. It is your blessing and your curse, being awesome.” He frowned a little, almost as though he were considering something he hadn’t thought of before, and then tipped his head to the side. “Of course, you could always give up the claim to awesomeness and be ‘great’ only, I think. There are still responsibilities, but they are not so big, I think.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “What sorts of responsibilities are we talking about here?”

“General responsibilities,” Jean-Paul said, nodding slowly. “Like making sure people are safe in your building, that stalkers are no longer stalking. These sorts of things.”

“So, something a great deal like the job I’ve already got? Are these the greatness responsibilities or the awesomeness ones?”

“These are the greatness ones,” Jean-Paul said, poking Vanessa in the side again even as he handed her his coffee. “The awesomeness responsibilities require that you do these things for the whole of New York State.”

Vanessa narrowed her eyes to slits, took his coffee and turned until her back pressed against his chest. “But, but,” she sipped the coffee and sniffled. “I wanna be awesome. You can’t make me do all that just to be awesome. I’m full of awesomeness, damn it!” She even stomped her foot, careful to avoid either of Jean-Paul’s. Vanessa also huddled around the coffee, clearly holding it hostage until he gave into her demands.

Tilting his head to the side a little as he surveyed the curve of Vanessa’s back and shoulders, Jean-Paul frowned slightly, then ran his fingers up her sides and slightly to the front, wiggling them as he tickled her. “Great responsibility!”

Giggling despite herself, Vanessa started to squirm in Jean-Paul’s lap in her feeble attempt to escape the touch of his fingers. “Awesomeness without punishment,” she insisted. Her squirming was sloshing the coffee around in the mug but she had yet to spill any on herself. She was, however, getting quite close to Jean-Paul’s knee and she would have to either stand up or fall off soon.

“You must take the good with the bad,” Jean-Paul intoned, though he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back into his lap properly so she wouldn’t take a tumble. “This is how things work, mon ami.”

“No, no, no,” she said with a wagging finger. Vanessa was still huddled around the coffee, knees drawn up so her feet ended up in the air when she was pulled back into his lap. “Some people get to be awesome and people just fawn all over them. I wanna be that kinda awesome.”

“Non, not for you.”

She pouted at him over her shoulder, then drank the rest of his coffee out of spite. Vanessa lost a couple taste buds in the process, but there were always casualties to be expected.

Considering that his coffee was now all gone, Jean-Paul saw no reason not to continue with the tickling. So he started up on that again, wondering if he could actually get Vanessa to squirm off his lap.

The empty mug was quickly slid onto the table so Vanessa could swat at his hands and slide off his lap sideways. “Oi, you are a wretched, abusive husband, you know that? What was that I said about top tier?”

Jean-Paul practically beamed. “I could always take the melon and the other fruits away, but I think this would not earn me any other points.” Reaching over, he stole a grape for himself.

Vanessa picked up another grape and threw it at him, aiming for his nose. “No, it would not earn you any points. In fact, you would lose more points. I’d have to start considering filing for divorce.” She dropped into the chair opposite him and slid the bowl of fruit over to herself. It was hardly out of Jean-Paul’s reach, but it was at least farther from him. She curled an arm around it protectively.

Reacting quickly, Jean-Paul caught the grape she’d tossed at him in his mouth and grinned when he held it between his teeth. “You should not file for divorce,” he said, his words slightly distorted because he still held the grape carefully between his teeth. He flicked his tongue against the skin of the fruit, eyes crinkling at the corners as he finished, “My tongue, it is too talented for divorce.”

Elbow on the table and chin propped up in her palm, Vanessa leaned forward with a wicked grin on her face. “Aye love, it’s certainly what keeps me coming back for me. Though I suppose it’s simply what keeps our wee pet, Will, coming in general, aye?”

Jean-Paul grinned. “Oui. Though mine cannot compare to his.”

Vanessa smirked. “Mi amor, very, very few could ever dream of comparing to his.” A shiver ran down Vanessa’s spine from memory alone. Few people were very good with their tongues at all, but Will was and his split all the way back from what she could tell. It was like two for the price of one and...yeah. She needed to stop thinking about that. “And how is our dear Will? You haven’t run him off, have you?”

“I have not,” Jean-Paul said, nose tipping upward just a bit before he grinned and actually chewed up the grape in his mouth. Then he reached over for a piece of melon and shrugged. “I have stolen him for a few weekends. And a few days of the week, also. I met his neighbor, once. She seemed more upset that I was floating than that we were kissing in the hallway. I believe, as Will said, it is that she did not like me defying the laws of physics.”

That made her laugh. “Aye? She’s got a neighbor who is a green night light and black hole in one and her problem is you floating? That’s perfectly reasonable, that.” Clearly she didn’t think so but she was obviously amused by it. “Sounds like you’re laying claim over more nights and days than not then? I’m going to assume that is a good sign since I clearly need to have a vicarious non-relationship through you.”

“Clearly?” Jean-Paul smiled a little. “It is... well, oui. I see him more often. When I am not working or seeing Kevin. Or with you.” Jean-Paul’s life was an interesting mixture of work and fun times. He wasn’t sure if this was how most people balanced things, but he didn’t particularly mind. “Laurie’s air scrubber, it broke a little while ago. You might have heard of this from Eamon? Or Laurie, herself. It was not so good, I think. Not bad, necessarily. But things became more complicated for Kevin.” He shook his head, glad that he’d managed to avoid that awkwardness, at least.

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “Complicated how? Eamon mentioned something about her staying with him because of a mishap of sorts. He didn’t get into it though.”

“Kevin... he says that the pheromones, they made people... frisky. And so he and Jan... had a few relations that night. Others had relations, also. But now Kevin has Laura and me and possibly also Jan, though he does not know if Jan is something more or not.” Jean-Paul shrugged. “I have Will and Kevin. This is enough complication for me, I think.”

“Your jailbait better be a damn good juggler to balance the three of you,” Vanessa decided. “I don’t think I could juggle that many people. Or maybe I could if they were all really shallow involvements, but knowing how you two are together? If I had something like that I probably couldn’t juggle much more. You guys have more skill there than me. You’re a player, mi amor.”

Laughing softly, Jean-Paul shook his head. “Non, it is... I do not know how to say it.” He shrugged, because in the end, he’d tried explaining it and it hadn’t really worked. “It is what it is, but I do not think of myself as a player, as you say.” Then he quirked a smile. “Kevin, he would like to draw Will.”

“Wait, what?” A blue hand clasped over her mouth while she failed to stifle her laughter. “Your ex-boyfriend wants to draw the guy you’re sleeping with who wants to be your next boyfriend? Seriously? That’s either really twisted or an incredibly well-adjusted kid. Did you tell Will that?”

“I have not yet. I am trying to decide how I feel about this,” Jean-Paul said, running a finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “I do not mind, of course. Only... I am not so sure how Will will feel. I do not want him to be uncomfortable and it took him a little while to understand that my friendship with Kevin did not lessen my friendship with him.”

“He’s not exactly the poster boy for self-confidence and security, is he?” Vanessa frowned. “Which is a shame because he doesn’t have a single thing to be insecure about from what I can tell. It would be an awkward situation for anyone, though, I think. Will could surprise you, though. Or he could freak out. Hm...yeah, I don’t know what to tell you there, sweetness. Seems like too much of a potential pitfall to bring up at all.”

“Oui, and this is why I have not said anything to him. He said... when I told him about Kevin, he said that he thought I would throw him away. And I do not want to, I do not intend to. So I felt... it would be best to wait.” Jean-Paul knew things were still relatively fragile with Will - they were in the happy phase of things where the sex was fantastic and nothing really bothered them when it came to one another. He knew that wouldn’t last. He wanted to know how they would settle after that, if they’d settle. He thought there was a chance that they might. And so he was going to try to be patient.

Vanessa nodded. “You’ve gotten wise in your old age, Obi-Wan. There’s no good way of telling a guy your ex wants to draw him since there’s the obvious correlation of artist with nudity, not that Will is self-conscious about this body.” It was practically the only thing he wasn’t self-conscious about. “He really thought you would ‘throw him out’?”

“Oui. I was not sure, for a little while, that I would be able to convince him otherwise. It worked out in the end, of course, but I do not think he has had such good experiences in the past. And I would like to show him that things can be good. That people are not only looking to use him for the shock of it, or only for his mutation, you see? I think he does not have so many friends, either, given he is so new.” Jean-Paul spent a good deal of time considering how to go about reinforcing Will’s self-confidence. It wasn’t that he felt he had to, more that he wanted to younger man to understand that he was wanted.

“Some of us would hang out with him more if they could ever find him when he wasn’t with you,” Vanessa told her friend in a fully accusing tone. “Or if we could hang out with him without you turning up to sulk about him being stolen and insisting on getting to share him and then deciding to hie off with him. But, aye, small steps with that one. Friends would help. You obviously not ditching him also helps. He’s a good guy, he’s got to see that eventually, right? He can’t possibly really think he’s so expendable forever if people keep wanting to be around him and you maybe want to really be with him eventually.”

“This is my thought, also,” Jean-Paul said, nodding. “Except that I do not want to share him.” Under the table, his foot nudged Vanessa’s and he smiled. “But any day that is not Friday or Saturday or Sunday, you could steal him before me.”

“By ‘before’ you mean I need to call him at seven in the morning, don’t you?” She nudged his foot right back. Jean-Paul was horrendously greedy when it came to Will, but she could forgive him that. He got a happy look on his face when he spoke of the black and green guy. And Will downright beamed when someone brought up Jean-Paul to him.

“I cannot promise that I will not be there to intercept your phone call at seven in the morning,” Jean-Paul said, something very akin to a smirk on his lips. “But if you call the week before you want him, he might be able to pencil you in, as they say.”

This time she actually kicked him in the shin. “I could always call him when he’s at work. You don’t think far enough ahead to have him scheduled a week in advance. Or I could conspire against you by finding out when you’re going to be with Kevin and steal him those nights.” A paragon of maturity, Vanessa stuck her tongue out at him.

Jean-Paul stuck his own tongue right back out at Vanessa. “Oui, these things you could do.” He didn’t actually begrudge her the time with Will - the younger man needed to hang out with someone other than the Quebecois, after all, and Vanessa was fun. “Only, do not get him into trouble.”

Now she was pouting. “But what am I going to do with him if I don’t get him in trouble? All that’s left after trouble is falling asleep. Everything else leads to trouble.”

Amused, Jean-Paul shrugged. “You are inventive. I think you can find something that does not involve trouble.”

“I’m a very trouble-focused kind of girl. Mischief. Mayhem. Nudity. All variations on the trouble theme here, love.”

“Then let me say,” Jean-Paul said, his tone almost philosophical, “Do not get him arrested.”

“Ah, well that I can handle. I’ve only managed to get arrested once as myself and then I shifted into someone else before fingerprinting anyway.” She shrugged. “The penal system is just not very effective, is it?”

“Non,” Jean-Paul said, shaking his head. “It is not. Would you like some coffee of your own, mon ami?”

Vanessa grinned. “Nah, I think I’ve had enough coffee today.” She popped a berry in her mouth looking quite smug.

“Oui, I think so also,” Jean-Paul said, sliding out of his chair and heading up to the counter to get a refill. Once he’d resettled in his seat, he waggled his eyebrows a little. “And so, I am kidnapping you today. Is there anything you would like to do? I thought a museum.”

“So much kidnapping for me this week. You lot actually missed me, didn’t you?” Vanessa nicked a bite of Jean-Paul’s pound cake because it was so bright and yellow and screaming for attention. Only the glaze was so sweet she ended up puckering her face unhappily. A piece of honeydew tried to wash the taste out of her mouth. “I’m yours, mi amor, for whatever you may wish. Museums are always good by me. We could go to the natural history museum. I haven’t visited the giant whale in a bit!” She was already grinning. The last time she’d been there had been with Lex and it had been ages ago.

“A giant whale,” Jean-Paul said, taking a piece of the pound cake for himself and eating it with relish. “Just for you, mon ami. We will enjoy the giant whale and all the rest of the natural history there. And have lunch, also. I think I would like hot dogs.”

“Are you going to buy out everything the guy has again? Because I think the last time the guy at the hot dog cart couldn’t figure out if he wanted to kiss you for making his day easy or growl at you killing his supply for the day. Just think of what he could have made if you bought out all his dogs and he got more to do his usual level of business, too.” Though it had been pretty damn funny when he had realized that Jean-Paul wasn’t kidding about how many hot dogs he had wanted. And this was why people with that stupidly high mutant metabolism should never skip meals ever.

Shrugging, Jean-Paul grinned. “If one hot dog man does not have enough, we can always find another. There are many. I try very hard to keep local businesses... in business...” He couldn’t help laughing a little at that, shaking his head at the repetition. He finished off his pound cake, then swirled his coffee in its disposable cup and raised his brows. “Shall we?”

Vanessa popped the last few berries into her mouth and nodded. She got up and made a grabbing gesture with her hand until Jean-Paul was also on his feet. A moment later her arm was looped around his waist and she was grinning quite ridiculously at her friend. “Onward, noble steed!”

“If I am a steed, should you not be riding me?”

Vanessa swooned, her weight falling into him enough that she sagged beside him. “Oh, how I’ve wished for such a day!”

Shifting around, laughing aloud, Jean-Paul gestured toward his back. “Oui? Then come, you must mount.”

She snorted a little at the language. “Mounting a Quebecois, this is a very particular skill, aye?” She laughed and disengaged from her spot at his side. Vanessa’s hands rested on his shoulders and she used them as leverage to bounce upward easily enough to get her legs around his waist the first time. Her arms wound around his shoulders, hands clasping down in front of his chest so she didn’t risk choking him. He got a kiss pressed to his cheek before she pointed ahead with a command of, “Onward!”

Jean-Paul hooked one arm under Vanessa’s knee and grabbed his coffee with his free hand, giving it to her to hold before sliding that arm under her other knee and heading for the door. “One day, you will say this to me and I will go very fast, mon ami.”

“If you peel the skin off my face from the wind friction our friendship is over and I’m filing for divorce,” Vanessa threatened, ignoring for the moment that she might bleed to death if the wind sheared off her skin. She held his coffee carefully so she would hopefully not spill it on him when they went airborne. Oddly enough, she’d found herself in the air with Jean-Paul a couple times before but never like this. This, ladies and gentleman, was the future!

Stepping outside, Jean-Paul paused for a moment, made sure Vanessa was settled comfortably against his back, and then lifted off. “I will be careful,” he assured her. “There will be no peeling, mon ami. Not of skin, I think. You might lose your shirt, though.”

“Why am I always losing my shirt around you?” She heaved as sigh, collapsing against his back on the exhale. “Buy your own damn shirts instead of stripping mine off with your stealthy, speedy hands while I’m distracted by-oh, look, it’s Bishop!” Vanessa pointed at the ground where she was pretty damn sure Bishop was walking on the sidewalk. She waved even though he wasn’t looking up.

Jean-Paul laughed at that perfect demonstration of just how easily distracted Vanessa could be - he didn’t even think she’d done it on purpose. Shaking his head, he turned right and they were off, heading toward the Natural History Museum.