Jean and Wanda: Ski Lift (Extremely Backdated)

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Jean and Wanda relax and enjoy themselves while at a ski resort on Wanda's birthday.



They said skiing is sort of like riding a bicycle in that way that you remember how to do - hopefully before you find yourself speeding down a steep hill, surrounded by trees and other skiiers, going faster than a moped's top speed. Of course, a few prat falls were to be expected when the last time you were on a set of skies was when you last lived in Europe but Wanda couldn't help but laugh as she sat up from the snow embankment and dusted herself off.

Nothing but her pride, and even that not by very much, was hurt and she was luckier than most. She'd just misjudged that last turn rather spectacularly.

"Well, all my limbs and both skies are still attached!" she called over to Jean as she watched the redhead approach her.

Jean's experience with skiing was enough to keep her upright, that was about it. As far as fancy tricks went, she definitely left them for another time.

She grinned as peered down at Wanda. "Not sure you're supposed to eat the snow," she said as she extended her hand for her to take to try to help her up.

"I am fairly certain you got a couple of moments of air time before you crashed, though," she said with a chuckle.

"I think the sports enthusiasts call that a win."

Gripping Jean's hand, and trying not to hit her with the ski pole attached to her write, Wanda managed to pull herself up from the embankment. "I consider it a win that both my skiis are attached, as is my head," she laughed, wobbling for a moment as each leg attempted to go in opposite directions. Again, with Jean's help, she managed to stabilize herself.

"My uncle was fond of saying that only crazy people enjoyed throwing themselves a perfectly good mountain. I think he might have been right."

Jean laughed as she kept a steady hand on Wanda.

"I wouldn't say crazy is a bad thing. It just means you're really fun at parties," she said, unable to keep the grin off her lips.

"So, birthday girl, do you want to try again or should we call it a day?"

Wanda smirked back at her. "We, darling, are simply the life of the party, then?" she said, laughing as she shook snow out from her curls. Most of her hair was snug under a hat but attempting to pile all of it that way was a recipe for disaster so some snow there was worth the price. "Well, we seem to be about half way down this slope. Let us say - whoever reaches the bottom first - without falling on our faces or help from our powers gets to enjoy drinks on the other one for the first hour."

Jean seemed to ponder that for a moment or two before she nodded. "I think that sounds like a plan," she mused. She had her hair back in a pony tail, with a wrap around style set of earmuffs to cover her ears.

"We'll be warm both inside and out."

"Also," Wanda said gravely, "there is a hot tub."

Jean lowered her head, letting out a sigh.

"Putting off using it isn't going to work, is it? Well....I think in this case we must just try to throw caution to the wind and face it head on, hoping we don't run into a bunch of guys trying to see if it'll turn into a time machine because they have no idea how the real world works."

It took Wanda a moment to get the reference but then she threw her head back and laughed. "Jean, knowing our luck, they will be some sort of mutants who might be able to turn the hot tub into a time machine. Shall we make a pack that we shall endure no fishy looking, drunk young men, then?"

Jean grinned.

"I'd love to jump back in time and fix a few things but I have seen The Butterfly Effect unfortunately. But yes, I believe a pact is in order...spending the night in jail is not on my to do list."

"What is it the younger people do these days to seal a deal? Oh, I know!" Grinning, Wanda curled her hand into a fist and held towards Jean. "Fist bump?"

Jean gave Wanda a knowing nod, meeting the other woman's fist with her own.

"Hoo-ra," she said, returning the grin.

~******~

Jean sat in front of the fire with Wanda, sipping a mug of hot chocolate as she listened to the buzz of people moving around them. There were families, friends, couples, and every walk of life. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted a couple of college age men staring at them with that 'Hello, Nurse!' look in their eyes.

She grinned, nodding to Wanda. "Don't look now, but we're being mentally ogled by the guys behind us."

A casual glance over Jean's shoulder and Wanda saw exactly what Jean had spotted. "Could they be anymore obvious?" she asked, grinning down into her own cup of hot chocolate. She could have had a stiffer drink but there was something about sitting in front of the fire that had changed her mind. "I think a blind man could figure out that they were staring at us. Not that it is not flattering, of course, just subtle as a semi."

Jean laughed. "There are far too few men who can pull off subtlety. I think it may be a trait that is gradually going extinct in the Facebook Era," she said.

She signed up for Facebook just because everyone clamored on about how amazing it was. The journal system was enough for her, and even then everyone else who was on Facebook, like her father (surprisingly), her sister and her sister's children, kept trying to invite her to play mindless games involving farming and being in the mafia.

It was...odd, to say the least the things people thought up for entertainment.

"There is a book about faces?" Wanda asked, only mostly tongue in cheek. Up until recently, she'd only vaguely heard of it but she'd seen it now and was still rather confused by the entire thing. It had taken her ages to get used to the journals and she still had issues with those from time to time. "But I know what you mean. They spend all time making the "lols" and the "brbs" that they have lost even the smallest ability to function without the computer screen in front of their faces."

Jean took a drink of hot chocolate. "I think there's a study out somewhere about the problems that are becoming rampant with instant gratification in younger generations. Expecting it now instead of waiting for the pay off because it really is available now," she said, then waved her hand dismissively.

"But enough about that. How've you been over in your section of the trenches?"

"Busy as always but I suppose I cannot complain," she responded, wrapping both hands firmly around the mug. "Or, well, I can, only it sounds counter productive. I am busy because there is a job to do, important work." Wanda glanced at Jean out of the corner of her eye and smiled wryly. "Sometimes I wish we were not needed, you see?"

Jean set her mug down, studying the criss-crossing rafters along the ceiling thoughtfully . "Hmmm....To be not needed..." she said with a slow smile.

"If you leave there and go somewhere else you'll probably be needed there too. Kind of like the Godfather."

She couldn't help but laugh at that as a sudden thought hit her. "So says the woman who went to a monastery and yet had the outside world come to her," Wanda said, shaking her head. "I suppose it's what makes these moments so enjoyable. Besides, of course, the company."

Jean grinned. "Yeah, Tibet wasn't as solitary as they made it out to be on the brochure. I should've fired my travel agent," she mused as she leaned back in her chair.

She glanced over, nodding. "It is nice to be able to just...exist, not having to be expected to do anything, with friends who can also enjoy the stillness."

Wanda bumped shoulders with her and smiled. "Brothers and sisters in arms, so to speak, know how to appreciate the times when it is still. And, also, hot chocolate. But I am only saying that to make myself sound less like a pompous ass, really."

"I think generally pompous asses don't draw attention to the fact that they're pompous asses because they probably don't know they are. After all, if you think you are a golden god, why would you believe if the lesser people say you are something the least bit negative?" Jean said, resting her chin in her hand as she nudged her back.

"To truly appreciate something you have to have had it and lost it. Like love and...your hair, I suppose...." she said, squinting as she idly twirled her finger around in an attempt to complete the thought cohesively.

"You know," Wanda replied, eyes narrowing, "I was going to mock you for the hair comment but it reminded me of both the freedom and despair it caused me when I chopped all of mine off. Is it not funny that losing or cutting off one's hair still leaves a lasting impression. As does having loved or been loved. Either that or we are both particularly fond of our hair."

Jean picked up a mug of the aforementioned hot chocolate, taking a drink. She grinned at her wryly before laughing quietly, studying the fire.

"I thought about getting mine cut again. Keep things the same for so long and after awhile I guess you get a desire to try something new."

Wanda tilted her head this way and that as she studied her friend, tapping a finger against her mug. "I think it would suit you," she said after a moment.

"Is this just for the hell of it, as it were, or some deeper meaning? Though of course, a hair cut might just be a hair cut, I suppose ..."

"Well, I had been giving serious consideration into joining a biker gang...We meet up on the weekends and go driving around the country side and it seems like more and more like it'd be something I'd want to do with the rest of my life...After all, who wouldn't want to wear a black leather jacket with a skull on it and call yourself Calamity Jean?" Jean said, shrugging.

There was a weird noise as Wanda suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth, nearly sputtering cooling hot chocolate everywhere. She faux glared at Jean over her hand as she dropped the mug on the table in front of them and searched for a napkin.

Jean peered at her. "What? Okay....so maybe Calamity Jean sounds a little too western...how about...Red Thorn?" she said, still completely deadpan.

"Gotta fit in with the gang, you know."

"Fit in? Jean, my dear, regardless of the name that you would pick for yourself - seriously, though Red Thorn? - you would be owning that gang in under two weeks. Completely wrapped around your finger and the scourge of the other biker gangs in the area." Wanda glanced down at her shirt to make sure she hadn't gotten any stains on there and decided to give up on the hot chocolate for now. There was too much danger involved.

"Two weeks? I was thinking a week," Jean said with a wry smile before laughing. It was entirely too much fun to talk with Wanda sometimes.

She drained the rest of her hot chocolate. "It's interesting, though, slipping into the leader role. Usually I had someone to take orders from but now..."

A lot of things were different.

Wanda nodded at that. "Is it not funny how things change? I can only imagine - there always seemed to be someone one or two feet in front of you. And then, one day, you find yourself walking next to, or even in front, of them. The role of leader does seem to fit you very well."

Jean's eyes held a bit of surprised curiosity for a moment, followed by an appreciative smile.

"Thanks. I suppose I have a bit more perspective on how Scott feels when he goes out in the field."

Sympathy and understanding were two different things. She felt for him, for the decisions he had to make, but had not really had that much experience first hand to be able to acknowledge those feelings within him with much idea of what it felt like herself.

It was as if the world operated differently when you had to make an account of what impacted what from your actions, as well as your team's actions. It was easy before to just let him go, his mind spinning with tactical possibilities and measures. But now she had to think the same way, and in some instances, involved going against her better instinct to keep people out of harm's way.

"It is different, isn't it?" Wanda asked, as if she were the mind-reader and not Jean. "It changes everything. It is always hard enough, you know, when it is just us or we are just following. But -" It was hard to put into words. Her group didn't work quite that way and each had been in a position to lead or direct others.

They dealt with it in their own way but Wanda would never want to be Jean. She didn't want that kind of responsibility - which was funny, considering all the responsibility she already had. And sometimes just refused to acknowledge.

Jean smiled as she stared at the men, still occasionally glancing at the two women.

"We adapt and we grow in our own slice of evolution."

It came not just in biology but in oneself.