Adrienne & Jean-Paul | Saturday Night (backdated)

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Adrienne meets Jean-Paul when he arrives at the mansion.


Adrienne was waiting at the front door of the mansion, sitting on the stairs, arms on knees, chin on arms, anxiously awaiting Jean-Paul's return. Her hair was pulled back, her jeans and blouse were clean. She'd showered and, thanks to Wade, Marie-Ange, and Doug, had even eaten and gotten some sleep last night. And yet she'd been agitated and anxious all day, and now everything she felt was sharper and more acute instead of the dull ache she'd had while she'd been sleep-deprived. So getting back to a normal routine had backfired a little.

And now she was clinging to this hope that having Jean-Paul come back, the other person who knew Vanessa best (because as sweet as Warren was, it wasn't the same as what she knew she and Jean-Paul had with Vanessa) would somehow magically strengthen her and clear her head.

Jean-Paul's flight pattern hadn't faltered while he was over the ocean, but he'd slowed a little after he'd hit the east coast. As much as he hated it, he wanted to actually be able to stand when he reached the mansion. Which was why, when he touched down in front of Adrienne, he swayed but didn't actually fall over. "Is she awake?"

"Still no," Adrienne answered with a shake of her head, getting to her feet in front of Jean-Paul so she would be in a better position to catch him if he fell over. "And Jean won't let anyone visit. But being a few feet away's still better than being in... where? Denmark?"

"Oui, Denmark," Jean-Paul said, letting his backpack slide off and catching it at the crook of one elbow. Raising his free hand, he set his palm on Adrienne's shoulder to steady himself. He felt worn thin, sweaty and dirty from the flight across the Atlantic, bone-weary from using his powers too much. "For months, but Argentina first. I spoke to Jean, though. She could not tell me so much. You saw Vanessa when they found her?"

"No, I wasn't there. I can't leave the country," Adrienne muttered darkly. "I don't know much. Pretty fucking useless, actually." The past twenty-four hours had been a mess of unpleasantness and Adrienne was feeling quite self-depricating at the moment.

"Marde," Jean-Paul whispered, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. "She is in the medlab, no one can see her, oui? You have not been allowed inside?"

"Look, why does it matter what I've been allowed or not allowed to do?" Adrienne asked wearily. "If you want to see her, talk to Jean and see if she'll let you. She's not awake anyway, Jean-Paul, and seeing her or not seeing her isn't going to change that."

Jean-Paul nodded, swallowed roughly, and stepped forward to pull Adrienne into a hug. "Have you slept?"

"No. I've been waiting for you." The hug was so unexpected, but so welcome in the face of everything that had happened with Vanessa's rescue and the crap on the journals that Adrienne found herself choking back sobs as Jean-Paul's arms wrapped around her. "Everything's such a fucking mess. Everyone. Worry and anger... no one knows what to do so we're taking our... fear for her, and our hatred of what they did to her out on each other. Well... I am. And I can't make myself stop."

He could see that. It would be so, so easy to snap at everyone else, to be angry at everyone close to you because you couldn't get your hands on the people who deserved it. "I have been flying for hours," he said, not letting her go. "I am tired and you are tired. I think we are not doing anything to help anyone as we are. Upstairs, oui? To sleep. You need it, mon ami."

Adrienne knew better than to argue with certain men and Jean-Paul was one who had earned enough of her respect to put himself on the list. "You need it too. And a shower. You smell gross," she told him with a wry laugh, holding on for a moment longer and then pulling back. She gave a long sigh and smiled at him. "I'm so glad you're back. Have you seen that new Roman-times show? Spartacus? It made me think of you when I saw it."

Jean-Paul let his backpack slide down the rest of the way and caught the strap with one hand before shrugging out of his leather jacket. Smiling, he shook his head. "The blood and sand show with people who wear very little clothing? Oui, I've seen an episode or two." Walking up the steps, he opened the front door and held it for Adrienne. "Come, mon ami."