Jean & Vanessa | Thursday afternoon

[x-copycat.livejournal.com]

After a week of Vanessa largely being absent the ladies get together for lunch in the city and Vanessa makes a new friend of sorts.

"I'm really hoping for a high class salon here," Vanessa told Jean as she gestured to the building next to her cafe. The construction guys had been at it for a few weeks but it was about five stories and they had just gotten the rubble all cleared out about two weeks or so prior. "Don't you think it would really make us seem more yuppie-friendly around here?" The metamorph grinned, her sarcasm barely masked by the cheerful tone she used. "And then we could get mani-pedis and I could try to figure out why the hell women are obsessed with them."

Jean glanced over at the ruckus, trying to imagine what she proposed in the spot, as well as the subsequent salon treatment that followed. "Hmmm...my guess would be laziness and driving their significant other crazy with the bill," Jean mused with a smirk as she linked her arm around Vanessa's. "Actually, I'm glad something's going in there, at least," she said. She didn't want the reminder of what had happened still fresh. A new beginning was what the area needed, even if it was devoted to making people's fingernails and toes unnatural colors and plucking eyebrows.

"I'm actually angling for a video store since we've already got a bookstore and I like the people who own it enough that I don't want them to have any more competition." Vanessa's hip bumped Jean lightly. "Or a pool place. Jean-Paul told me there's somewhere around with pool tables but he refuses to tell me the name of the place or where it is so I think he's being proprietary. And shady. Very shady. You know how those Canadians can be. Especially the French ones." Laughing, Vanessa gave the construction site a once over as the women drew closer to it. They had to pass it in order to get to her cafe. "And if you need me to defend you from frisky construction guys you just let me know, little lady."

Jean cast a look the direction Vanessa was looking then grinned. "Thanks, but I'm in the mood to be provoked. If they want to try it they'll learn better."

"Hmmm...with Netflix they may not want to put one of those here, though. A pool hall sounds grand, or some sort of gaming center so that kids would be able to come have some fun as well during the day," she said, briefly going into educator mode. "And I would've thought you'd have Jean-Paul wrapped around your finger by now. Surely there's ways to get people to talk...bribery maybe?"

"Mm...but he knows all my tricks already. When someone knows you as well as he knows me it can become just as detrimental as it is useful. Alas. I could try to get Will to get it out of him for me," she considered aloud, tone thoughtful. "I'm willing to bet Will's got Jean-Paul at least partly wrapped around a finger by now."

Vanessa was tapping a finger against her chin when she spotted a very familiar construction worker. He hadn't spotted her yet because his back was to the street but that didn't stop her from elbowing Jean lightly in the ribs. She cast a significant look in the guy's direction and thought as loudly as possible at the redhead. That one keeps tipping his construction hat at me and I have no fucking clue why. It's almost cute but he probably does it to any female who looks in his general direction.

Jean turned to look, to see if she could get an idea of the man's face out of pure curiosity. We'll see. If he tips his hat to me you have your answer. But there may be a distinct possibility that he's actually tipping his hat to you. And if he was, would that be a bad thing? she thought back to her with a light smile.

Mason stood with his hands at his waist, listening to one of his subcontractors talking about the next step they were going to need to take to make sure that, when they got to the wiring, it wouldn't complicate things. He took the clipboard from the man, looked over the specs, and then signed off on the man's request. He turned, taking a few steps toward the road so he could get clear of the crane and take his hardhat off.

About the time he got clear, though, he looked up and noticed a very familiar blue lady walking down the street with... an unfamiliar redhead. They looked cozy. Reaching up almost reflexively, Mason felt a smile creeping over his lips as he tipped his hat to the blue woman. He didn't know her name, but he figured he'd find out eventually.

See? Vanessa thought when she caught sight of that damn hard hat tipping in her direction. He had one of those smiles that completely distracted her. Vanessa couldn't decide if she liked that about him or not. He's pretty. I fall for pretty men and it goes badly. Garrison was just breaking up with Marie when I met him, then eventually got together with my best friend. Sam was sort of...just not for me and then went crazy a bit when I broke up with him. Lex...you know how that ended. She kept thoughts of Wade far from her sort of mental conversation. A smile like that, there's got to be something wrong with him, right?

Jean glanced between the two, falling silent for a few moments before a small grin spread across her lips.

I wouldn't say that. Doesn't seem that way to me. And I'd know, right? That tip of the hat? All for you. He's noticed you running in the morning. And he can't stop thinking about you now. Just because you've had bad experiences before doesn't mean this time'll be like that. Who knows? She nudged her. The worst thing that could happen is you have one date where you're forced to stare at a hot guy for two hours.

Which would be a truly awful fate, Vanessa thought, the sarcasm even making it into her "mental voice." You're making it up about him not being able to stop thinking about me right now. She didn't really think Jean was making it up and they both knew it. Despite her best efforts to the contrary, a smile tugged its way onto her lips. Vanessa's eyes hadn't left the construction worker or that smile of his, a point that had managed to escape the metamorph's notice. I bet there's a serious flaw. Norman Bates level momma's boy, wears thigh highs and heels when he's home, cries a lot, mentally unhinged, has a blue fetish...

Watching the ladies walk by, Mason was thinking he should turn around to make sure Lenny took a break from the jackhammer, but he wasn't gonna do it until the blue woman looked away. Only she didn't. His smile widened to a full-on grin as he resettled his construction hat. Head tipping just slightly to the side, he called out, "Baby girl, when're we gonna get some coffee?"

Steps slowing, the smile only got bigger. It was terrible, but Vanessa could not help it. Something about a guy calling her "baby girl" and making it sound completely natural was oddly cute. And he had a good voice. She brought her and Jean to a stop on the sidewalk just a bit beyond where the construction worker was standing. A hand raised to shield her eyes from the sun but the eyebrow that quirked upward could still be seen. "Excuse me?"

"Coffee, baby girl," Mason said, still grinning. "You got an addiction, don't even try to lie."

The squinting had nothing to do with the sun and everything to do with how often he seemed to note her presence in the area. "Aye. One could probably attempt a claim of such a thing. It's also possible I'm drinking tea, grabbing lunch, chatting with the folks who work there or possibly that I've a gambling problem and they run book out of the back."

Laying his hand over his heart, Mason shook his head. "Say it ain't so! But they make a program for everything these days, so I'm sure we can get you the help you need to overcome your gambling problem. While we have coffee."

"What if I don't like coffee? You're putting all your eggs in your coffee beans there, love. That just doesn't seem like a wise way to go." She shook her head. "Are you sure this is the approach you want to take? The coffee angle? Seems a bit unoriginal."

"Should I ask if you want to go for bagels instead?"

Bagels, there was an alternative Vanessa hadn't expected. She was still laughing when she said, "What if I'm one of those crazy chicks who thinks carbs are evil and will make me fat?"

"Bit of booty never hurt, baby girl, but with all that running you do, I'm thinking it'd take more than one bagel with me to get you anywhere near fat." Mason's eyes had stayed on her face, though, instead of wandering lower because, while he could certainly appreciate the view... it wouldn't have been polite. And he was trying to actually get her to agree to go somewhere with him. "Besides, don't all the girls from Boston like bagels?"

"Aye, suppose we do tend to be a bagel loving sort of city. Bagels and beer and the Sox, though not necessarily all at the same time." Vanessa grinned. "I don't really think bagels go with baseball."

"Hot dogs go with baseball," Mason said, mind automatically skipped from baseball to hot dogs to phallic symbols and then he pulled his brain back with a sharp oh shit because that was not the kind of thought he needed to be having about the woman he was trying to get to go on some kind of outing with him. "You like baseball? Cause I can get tickets. I know a guy who knows a guy."

Jean watched from the side, content with just listening to Vanessa flirt with the man for the moment.

"I hate the Yankees," Vanessa warned. It should have gone without saying, of course, given the whole from Boston thing and all. "You might end up thrown out after I get into a fight with someone if you take me to a Yankees game." That was a damn amusing thought. It was also a fairly accurate introduction to her. She figured if the guy wanted to get her anywhere he should probably be warned about her potential for violence. Then again, she was wearing a gun currently. The gun was hidden under her jacket but the knife on her belt wasn't and it was possible he had taken note of her enough times to have glimpsed the gun at some point.

Raising his hand, Mason said, "On my honor, I will not take you to a Yankees game. Unless I wanna see you deck a couple people. I'm not the kind of guy who's intimidated by a capable woman." He waggled his eyebrows just a little. "That kinda thing's pretty hot, actually. So's it a date, then, baby girl?"

Vanessa was tempted to ask Jean to scan the guy to see if there was something seriously wrong with him, but she was also more inclined to find out for herself. She wanted to avoid using her friend's telepathy as a crutch. He was very entertaining, Vanessa could give him that. "A date, hm?" Her eyebrow was arching again. "Why would I agree to a date with some guy whose name I don't know? Pretty as you may be, pretty's only going to get you so far with me."

"Mason Schweitzer," he said, leaning down over the railing to offer her his hand. "And I think you're pretty, too. But you won't get to know me better if all I can do is tip my hat when you walk by. Let me buy you a coffee. Or some tea. Or a steamer. Pick your poison, baby girl. Maybe we can work up to the baseball game."

Schweitzer? Vanessa was pretty sure she was being incredibly ethnocentric here, or possibly just stereotyping, but wasn't he a little too black for that last name? Nevertheless, she took the offered hand to shake. Her blue skin met his mocha and Vanessa couldn't help but note that she liked the way their hands looked together. And I will stop being a girl about this any time now, she thought. "Carlysle. Vanessa. You're very intent on taking me out, aren't you?" An amused smile tugged at her mouth.

His thumb brushed up the outside of Vanessa's palm before he released her hand and he shrugged. He was still smiling when he said, "Wouldn't you be very intent on taking you out, if you were me?"

"I guess that depends on how strong my fetish for blue girls is," Vanessa returned. "The stronger the fetish the more intent I'd be to take me out." The comment was her way of trying to screen him a bit. The last thing she needed was to be anyone's fetish, whether he turned out to be a non-visible mutant or a standard issue human.

"I'm a leg man, myself," Mason said, entirely unabashed by the fact that he was telling the woman he wanted to take for coffee. "Not that you're not a real nice shade of blue and everything, but Momma taught me to look beyond color..."

Trying to suppress her smile only resulted in Vanessa smirking. "So you've looked beyond my color to my...legs?" She could admit that she had legs for days. It was one of the things that happened when you were as tall as Vanessa was. With how much she ran and swam she also had damn nice legs, not that anyone really saw them unless she was running or it was hot enough to find her wearing shorts.

Eyes still on Vanessa's face, Mason nodded somewhat solemnly. "Exactly."

A lot of guys would have refrained from such admissions if they were trying for a date rather than trying to get a girl back to their place for some naked time. In a bar picking up a one night stand a comment about looking past color to a woman's legs wouldn't have been out of place. Vanessa gave him points for honesty. She nodded. "Alright."

Grinning, Mason said, "I'm here Monday through Friday, seven thirty to four. You just let me know the when and I'll meet you for that coffee."

"Ah, leaving me enough time to change my mind and possibly avoid you then?" Her voice was teasing, but given how much of a run around she'd already given him Vanessa thought it should be a plausible concern on his part. While she had no actual plans to bail on a coffee date or whatever she had just signed up for Vanessa also kept strange hours and tended to forget about anything that wasn't scheduled if she got busy.

"You'll make the date, if you want," Mason said, his smile softening a little. "And if you don't, well. I still get to see those fine, fine legs of yours most mornings, so I'll be content with that." He wasn't the kind of guy who'd try to bully a woman into going out with him. He wouldn't pester her if she didn't actually take him up on the open-ended offer.

Vanessa didn't like open-ended nearly as much as Mason seemed to. One could blame that on the Southie personality or mercenary efficiency. Maybe it came down to knowing how very uncertain the future could be. Either way, Vanessa liked to either commit to something or not. She didn't see the point in agreeing to anything and then letting it lay stagnant. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, Mister Schweitzer."

"Please, Miss Carlysle," Mason said, tipping his hat to her again. "Call me Mason."

If the reaction he was looking for was another amused grin then the tipping of his hardhat did its job. "It's Vanessa. Nessa, if you prefer." She reached out and tipped the front edge of his hardhat back off his face after he had settled it back on his head. "And this isn't invited, Mason."

"Duly noted, Vanessa. Duly noted." He grinned again, then tipped his head toward the site behind him. "I gotta get back to work, baby girl, but I'll see you tomorrow."

"Aye." She nodded, then looped her arm through Jean's again and started to move them off toward the cafe again. Her eyes, however, did not leave Mason. Vanessa at least had the advantage that her eyes were solidly red so it wasn't nearly as obvious that she was watching him out of the corner of her eye as the women walked away. "Why do I have a feeling that one will get me in trouble?" she asked her friend without sounding at all put off by the prospect of trouble.

Jean laughed. "Oh I think you can handle it," she said, smiling wryly as they continued on. Life was full of surprises.

Vanessa gasped in the most shocked manner she could manage. "Are you saying that I am prone to trouble, madam?" The metamorph pulled open the door to her cafe and held it for the redhead. She cast a last glance back toward the construction site before trying to put Mason out of her mind.

Jean gave Vanessa a light curtsie as she stepped past, smirking. "I don't think you'd know what to do with yourself if you didn't have any," she teased. But she was one to talk. She had seen about as much "trouble" as the other woman.

Frowning, the metamorph poked the redhead in the ribs. "I am perfectly content with quiet. When I've got a book or something else to occupy me, anyhow." She was completely useless when it was quiet and dull and there was nothing to do. Sort of like when she had to sit in a car with a camera for surveillance work. "I could garden. I'm very zen when I garden."

"As a hobby or as a job choice? Sorry honey, but I'm pretty sure you and quiet aren't mutually exclusive," Jean said with a simple shrug and a laugh. "Now..kick boxing maybe..."

Nose wrinkling, the face Vanessa made was clearly not in favor of kick boxing. "Kick boxing is for people who can't hit hard enough with a fist to knock someone out. It's fine for exercise but the practical application of it as a fighting style is flawed. By the time you have your leg up your opponent has already had time to see what you're doing and either dodge or counter or lay you out on your ass. At least if they are any sort of fighter themselves."

"Flawed and rife with trouble. I always saw you as a woman who liked to take a challenge and kick its ass. Sounds like its right up your alley to figure out the best way to beat it as a hobby... But...I dunno....you could always go back to a book...sitting there...flipping pages idly...Or sitting out in the sun with your gardening gloves and hat for hours on end...." Jean said as they stepped into line for the counter.

"There's no ass to kick in kick boxing," Vanessa argued. "I can knock half those guys on their asses with a punch because their footwork sucks. They focus too much on the kick and not enough on boxing in my experience. An agile, smart opponent will beat you even if they are weaker in terms of power half the time. Brains over brawn, Red." A bit belatedly Vanessa added, "And don't knock the gardening. Some of us are trying to embrace non-violent coping mechanisms, mkay?"

"So perhaps you should find an agile, smart opponent?" Jean shot back, trying hard not to grin. "I'm actually glad you're defending the non-violence, though. I do garden from time to time. It is relaxing."

"Or I'll just keep up on the stuff I already know and train with people who are better than me for general fighting techniques over a particular style." She used to train with Logan but since he'd left she hadn't really had a sparring partner. With Eamon in town she could utilize him when his schedule allowed for it, at least.

Jean fell silent a moment, tilting her head in contemplation.

"Could you...teach me some of what you know? I've been sparring with some people to try to get my skills up in case I find myself powerless...which seems to be a lot lately, but its mostly the guys. And they don't carry themselves like women do when it comes to throwing punches," she said.

It was, admittedly, something she hadn't spent as much time on as she had other skills. She definitely had some basic knowledge from the past few weeks but nothing terribly fancy. If there was a problem she wanted to fall back on her TK or telepathy, but that was not always reliable or possible. And if she was going to teach the students to not rely on their powers as much then she needed to know herself and not just say 'do as I say, not as I do.'

First there was blinking, then staring, then more blinking. Vanessa was trying to figure out if Jean was serious or not, but there was nothing to suggest she was kidding. They were up for ordering so Vanessa used that as a reason to delay her response. They knew her here, though, so mostly Vanessa just paid while Jean ordered. It wasn't until after they had found a table that Vanessa bothered replying to the request.

"If I start teaching all you people who have offensively and defensively useful mutations how to fend for yourselves like normal people how are humans or those of us with mutations that aren't any use in a fight supposed to level the playing field?" While it was a genuine point of concern, Vanessa didn't anticipate being on the opposing side from her friend. It was possible, but then you also learned someone's weaknesses when you trained together. "If you really want to learn hand-to-hand I can train with you, sure. It can be part of our weekly date. Training, then dinner or what have you."

Jean took a moment to process what she was saying, then shook her head.

"It's okay. I can learn from someone else, or see if Scott can send me some sparring programs for the DR. Lately the past few missions I've been on, one or more of my abilities have been compromised. I rely on them way more than I should. And the people we're fighting against are finding more and more clever ways to prevent us from using those abilities. I have more concern for the younger X-Men, and the students, god forbid they should find themselves in that situation. And I want to be prepared myself, in case that happens."

Had she not had her telekinesis in Madripoor, against someone like Deathstrike and her group...She didn't know if she would've come back. She wanted to be smarter, more tactical. Brains,not brawn, right? It seemed more and more like she was becoming the leader now. She was used to Scott being in front, or Ororo, someone else. She was used to being support, not the one making the decisions. Her decisions had not exactly been the best in the past. It was a new way of thinking. She had to adapt.

Vanessa shrugged. "Up to you, but I did just say I would. You can either take it or leave it, but just remember that no program is ever going to be good enough. Programs are predictable once you figure out their parameters. People are rarely predictable. You can figure out their style, that they tend to feint to the right or jab right before an uppercut, but emotion and circumstances can change the game on you. A program is never going to teach you to be adaptable enough to deal with that."

"I know. Like I said, I also have real people who are helping me, but they're men and I'd prefer to learn some things from a woman. You said you would but you also had reservations. And I didn't want that to be a problem if for some reason you felt obligated to do so because we're friends," Jean said.

The eye roll that wanted to happen barely managed to be restrained. This was why Vanessa liked being friends with guys. They took what you said for exactly what you said and didn't go looking deeper into it. Most guys would have shrugged off her first comment and had taken her agreement about training for exactly what it was, agreement. "I don't offer or agree to things just because someone is my friend. If I say I will do something then I will. If I'm not willing to I say no. Some people might have an issue with the word no, I don't."

Jean felt a headache coming on. "Okay then. We'll fight."

Vanessa shrugged, noncommittal. "You can think on it for a bit and figure out what you want to do." Maddie brought their drinks to the table and
Vanessa used her cup of coffee as an escape from further discussion of the topic.

Staring around the room, Jean stayed silent for a few moments. They hadn't been this combative until recently. "I do. I do want you to train me," she said quietly, sincerely.

The metamorph eyed her, but rather than telling her to take a few days to think about it she nodded. "Alright then, we'll figure out a training schedule of sorts."