Jean-Paul and Catseye - Surprise Pickup at the Airport

[x-catseye.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul meets Catseye at the airport and takes her to her brother's so they can catch up over food, discussing their reactions to missing loved ones.

Catseye was already awake when the alarm clock went off, so she swatted at it immediately and slid noiselessly out of bed, bare feet padding across the room in the dark to the dresser, where she'd laid out her outfit the night before. Her suitcase was packed and already waiting by the door.

She had slipped on underclothes and a long cotton sundress when a voice from the bed made her jump. "Was that the alarm?" asked a rich female voice in Spanish.

Catseye turned towards the sound guiltily. "Yes. Sorry. I did not want to wake you," she replied in slow Spanish.

"Why's that?" Catseye saw her companion sit up in bed and squint in her direction. She switched to English, heavily accented. "Are you worried I'll try to convince you to come back to bed, and you will miss your flight to New York?"

The catgirl laughed at this, putting on her watch and sandals to complete her dressing, and trotting over to the side of the bed where Gabriella was. "Nope," she replied honestly, kissing Gabriella on the forehead. Nothing was going to keep her from her flight, even someone as... entertaining as Gabriella.

"I still do not understand why you are giving all this up to go back home," Gabriella murmured, though Catseye could see her smirk in the dark. "Blistering heat, the possibility of being bombed or kidnapped on a regular basis, making coffee and sitting at a desk all day? What beats that?"

"I suppose nothing beats that when you're a law student from Mexico here on an internship," Catseye chided in return, grinning. "Nothing out of the ordinary for you, yes?"

"It's true,"Gabriella grinned, and took Catseye's wrists in her hands. "Come back to bed, Sharon. Take the next flight. I'll make it worth your while." She waggled her eyebrows.

Shaking her head, Catseye took a half-step back. "Tempting, but I can't. I've got to go. I'm going to be cutting it close as it is."

"Fiiiine. Safe flight. Take care of yourself."

"You too," Catseye nodded, squeezing Gabriella's hands before the other woman let her go.

She smiled as she rolled her suitcase outside. That was perfect. There was no 'I'll call you,' no 'look me up when you're in town.' She and Gabriella had had fun, they cared about each other, but ultimately both recognized that what they had wasn't something that would last. So why pretend anything different? They were on very different paths. Gabriella, fluent in Spanish, English, French, and Arabic, was a law student who had fought tooth and claw for her internship with the ICRC that had her landing this three-month assignment in Tel Aviv, while Catseye was torn between a love of international law and a love of cooking, and had been given her job because Nathan had pulled strings for her. Gabriella had her life figured out, while Catseye was still trying to decide what she wanted.

All she knew, ultimately, was that what she was looking for was not in Tel Aviv right now. And that the best place to start looking was back home in New York.

Assuming there were no traffic delays and she actually made her flight.

~
Exhausted and stiff from the long flight, Catseye pushed dyed brown hair from her face and slipped on her battered leather jacket as she cleared customs and went through the arrivals gate at JFK. She had planned to take a cab to Evan's to check in with her brother before heading over to her new place in District X.

And even though she hadn't asked for anyone to meet her at the airport, she found herself looking up from her place in the queue of people streaming out of the gate and scanning the area for familiar faces. When she actually spotted one, she stopped, causing the people behind her to run into her. Eyes wide, her jaw dropped open.

"Omigod! Mister Beaubier?!?!?" She ran at him and, since this was an airport and everyone was doing it, hugged him fiercely.

Jean-Paul had prepared himself for the enthusiasm of Catseye's greeting - he just hadn't realized the brunette coming through the line would be Catseye until she nearly jumped on him. "Bonjour, bonjour," he said, returning her hug. He pulled back a moment later to hold up a lock of her hair and ask, "But what is this?"

"Are you veryveryvery shocked?" she asked with a big grin. "I know, I know. My lovely lavender hair. But," she added with a good-natured shrug, "I did not think it was wise to attract too much attention to myself in Tel Aviv. Blending in made things a lot easier for me. And it is not permanent, it will wash out in a couple weeks." It had been a pain to keep buying so much wash-out hair dye, but she couldn't stand the smell of the permanent stuff. "But why are you here?!" she asked, suddenly excited all over again. "I did not think Evan would have remembered when I was getting in!"

"Oui, I am shocked," Jean-Paul said, cracking a small smile. "I am shocked, but pleased also. It was good of you to think of blending in. This is important. I heard from the professor that you were returning and, after speaking with your brother, thought it would be nice to have someone meet you here. It seems that you are very shocked."

"I am shocked," Catseye admitted with a laugh. "I'm returning, yes, but not to the mansion. Well, just for X-Men training... because of Nick. I have a place in District X. So I didn't think the Professor would think to speak to anyone about me! But it's a very nice surprise. Thank you so much for coming! Are you still living in District X or are you at the mansion permanently?"

Sliding an arm around Catseye's shoulders, Jean-Paul began the process of weaving through the crowds at the airport to find her baggage carousel. "I am still in District X, oui. I like my apartment very much, you see. I have been away for a long time, but now I am back. I go to the mansion often, though. Where are you staying in District X?"

"A bachelor suite. It's above a bookshop," Catseye answered with a grin. "I didn't know you'd been away. Why were you away? Are you okay?"

"Above a bookshop?" Jean-Paul said, his smile widening a bit. "That is convenient for you, oui?" They reached the right carousel and he paused, then tipped his head to the side a bit. "I was in Denmark for work, so I am alright. Just very tired still." He'd blame jetlag until she called his bluff.

"You just got back? And you came back to the airport to get me? Wow! Thank you even more now!" Catseye told him, grinning. "The airport is... crowded and dirty and loud and fast and... it's chaos. I hate the airport. I wouldn't come back if I was just here."

"Non, I was not here when I returned," Jean-Paul said, laughing softly. "I flew to the mansion from Denmark. It was... fast, as you say, and I was exhausted from that. And then I have been keeping busy since then. It was several weeks ago that I returned. But oui, the airport is very loud. We should get your bags and go quickly, I think."

"Oh, right!" Catseye hit her forehead with the palm of her hand as she scouted for her luggage. "Sorry. Stupid stupid. Jetlag. Yesyes. Bags. Going. There it is! Come here, you little devil," she muttered, yanking her suitcase off the turnstile. "So how long were you gone for?"

"I left in June," Jean-Paul said, mentally counting the months. "So five months, I think. A little more, maybe? How long were you in Tel Aviv?"

"Around the time I stopped being in touch," the catgirl smiled. "January. Right after I got my diploma. I told Nathan I wanted adventure, and because I was such a good assistant he told me I could go be an assistant in Tel Aviv."

"Mm... and how did you like Tel Aviv?" Jean-Paul was curious, mostly because it was fairly obvious that she hadn't liked it enough to stay.

"Very much," Catseye answered as she followed Jean-Paul towards the exit. "It was beautiful, the people were amazing. I got to travel around the Middle East and North Africa. It was so special." She sounded happy, and yet there was doubt in her tone, as well.

"But?" Jean-Paul arched an eyebrow. They reached the curb and the Quebecois tilted his head toward the cab waiting there. "I thought this could take your bags and I could fly you to your apartment. Or your brother's. Whichever you would like." He hated cars. He knew, intellectually, that he'd been in them before, that he'd driven them before - he knew, in fact, that he'd helped Clarice get her license. But he couldn't fathom willingly getting into one now. It made the skin along the back of his neck crawl just contemplating it.

"But I don't want to be an assistant anymore. I don't want to sit at a desk all day and write reports for people who get things done. I want to be the person getting things done." Catseye put her suitcase in the cab, and after handing the driver some money, directed him to Evan's place, where there was a doorman to accept it so she didn't have to worry about it getting stolen. "Evan's working so we can go there, I have a key, since I don't have any food or drinks or anything to give you at my apartment yet."

"Then it is good you came home," Jean-Paul said, nodding as he waited for Catseye to finish with the taxi. Then he quirked a brow and asked, "Would you like to stand on my feet or ride on my back, mon ami? It will be a short flight, either way." But it was cold, given the timing.

For the first time, Catseye had to think about that before answering. She supposed that was what came of being an adult now, having to consider the thoughts in your head about making someone you considered to be a father figure feel uncomfortable with how close you were going to be to him, even though you knew he was gay... "Back," she finally nodded. That way, her arms were around him instead of his being around her. She zipped up her jacket. "I think it was good to come home too, yes. Going to college so I can be better than I was before will be a good thing. And training as an X-Men."

"What are you going to college to study?" Jean-Paul asked, obligingly giving her his back so she could hop up. He kept his arms ready to hook his elbows at her knees once she was ready and didn't comment on her X-Men training. It wasn't that he didn't approve, as such. It just... had never really been for him. That stung, sometimes, when people he cared for were in need and the X-Men got called, since it meant he couldn't really go to their aid, but that was something he was coming to terms with. His work with X-Factor made more sense to him on a personal level - he was part of a team, but no one typically depended on him directly and he was able to do what he was good at without having to wait for people.

Catseye climbed onto his back and put her knees into his arms so he could secure her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Cooking! Food Service Administration," she grinned. "Because I already know I like working in international aid but I do not know if I like being a chef so I thought I would try being a chef and then if I like it better than international aid I made a good choice, but if I like international aid better, I will study international aid knowing it is what I like better than anything else."

Jean-Paul ignored the odd looks they were getting from the other travelers who parted around them, grinned to himself and then they were airborne. A few people made surprised noises, but by then they were far enough off the ground that it wouldn't matter if they thought it was odd, a grown man flying off with a younger woman latched onto his back. The flight itself didn't take very long, but it was still exhilarating, flying over the city.

The catgirl let out a whoop, and, trusting Jean-Paul to hold on to her by the knees, threw her arms out at her sides. "It's great to be hoooooooooome!" she yelled, laughing.

Grip tightening as Catseye threw her arms wide, Jean-Paul kept them steady in the air and had to suppress a smile as they flew toward her brother's home. It wasn't a very long flight - usually, his flights were never particularly long, but he had to fly lower and slower, carrying a passenger, and in the end, he wasn't as young as he'd once been. He thought it was likely all in his head, but having turned 41, Jean-Paul felt like the years were finally creeping up on him inch by slow inch. Maybe it was simply all the stress of the last few months, though. That aside, he landed outside Catseye's brother's apartment building without incident and made sure she was on her feet before stepping away. "Oui, and so here we are."

Catseye used her keys to get them into the building and into the apartment Evan shared with his fiancee. The place was comfortably lived-in, bordering on messy with various paraphinelia for the wedding taking up seemingly every space. "Can I get you some coffee? Tea, maybe? Juice? Do you want me to cook something? I got a lot of practice with Middle Eastern spices. So what were you doing in Denmark, anyway?"

"I was in Denmark to protect a girl. She was your age, I think, and her father was worried people would try to kidnap her. He was very rich, oui? And so I made sure people did not succeed when they tried." Which they had - twice. It had been irritating the first time. The second time they'd nearly gotten her into the van. It wouldn't have stopped him, but that wasn't the point. Of course, the first time had been in the States and the second time in Argentina, which had necessitated their move to Denmark. "Someone else is protecting her now." And they'd better be doing a good job of it, too.

"Coffee, please. And I am interested to know what you have learned of Middle Eastern spices. If there is time and your brother does not mind, I would like to see you cook." Jean-Paul smiled, enjoying Catseye's presence in general. He'd missed her while she was gone, though he understood the need to go.

"You can protect me if it makes you feel better," Catseye responded with a grin, sensing something- she wasn't sure if it was regret, or maybe guilt, or maybe they were both just really tired- in Jean-Paul's tone. She went into the kitchen and surveyed Evan's pantry, spice rack, fridge and freezer. "Darn, I should have taken the Turkish coffee blend out of my suitcase before we sent it in the cab," she muttered as she set about making the plain old Starbucks House Blend that Evan had. "Oh well, next time. I don't think my brother or his fiancee would say no to having food ready to eat when they get home after work," she shrugged. "Of course, they do not have much in the way of Middle Eastern ingredients, so we may have to improvise a bit. I should be able to manage some rice with black beans and chickpeas, though, if that suits you? The secret's all in the spice blend."

"Merci," Jean-Paul said, smiling a little. He'd baked himself almost completely out of space at the mansion - it was just a good thing there were so many people there who could eat so much food. Of course, everything had been carefully labeled so as to avoid a food mishap, but that hadn't taken much time or effort. Real food was something he was beginning to enjoy more these days. "And I feel that you are more than capable of protecting yourself, are you not?"

Catseye laughed as she dumped some rice in a pot and added some water. "Of course I am! I have BigCat, so I'm always protected. And now that I'm not in the Middle East anymore I should be even safer. So what are you doing now that you are not protecting people anymore? Still working at X-Factor?"

"Oui," Jean-Paul said, nodding. "Still working with X-Factor. Simple cases for now. Nothing very big has come in. I think everyone is tired, after everything that happened with Vanessa. I was not here for it, since I was in Denmark, but she was taken. And so they spent much of their time looking for her."

The coffee had finished brewing so Catseye poured him a cup and offered it to him. "Looking for missing friends is good," she nodded, "it is the Right thing to do. As long as they did not stop living their lives. That is why I had to stop looking for Nick," she said ruefully. "I had stopped living my life to find him. And I could not live like that in the end. But I still feel like, sometimes... it was Wrong of me to stop looking," she admitted sheepishly.

Jean-Paul mulled that over for a moment as he sipped the coffee, then shook his head slowly. "You did not give up on him, oui? You only continued doing what he would have liked you to do - living, as you say - had he been there. It was a different kind of living, of course, because he was not there with you, but it was living. And this is the important thing. You should not feel guilty - you searched, at least. I... I did not even know Vanessa was gone."

"You did not know? Because no one told you?" Catseye guessed. "You were busy protecting this woman, keeping her from being kidnapped, so you could not know Vanessa was gone. And no one told you. So you should not feel guilty either. Is Vanessa still gone?" He'd mentioned that things had been happening with Vanessa but Catseye had no idea what he was talking about.

"Non," Jean-Paul said, shaking his head. "She was found, the X-Men got her back, oui? But things were... not good for her. It was difficult. The people who took her, they did very bad things. It is almost... almost like when I was taken, before. She is changed."

Catseye made a face as Jean-Paul explained the situation to her, keeping an eye on the rice as she pulled some spice jars off the rack into a pile. "That is terrible, people doing bad things to her. Was it... do you think it was the same people who took Nick? And made him forget who he is? Is Vanessa changed like that too, does she forget who she is?"

"I... do not think she has forgotten," Jean-Paul said, considering that for a long moment. "I think it is more... the things that were done to her, they made her doubt everyone else. And she is working through this as she can, but she is still... a different person now than she was, oui? It is like when I returned and I was not the same."

"Ahh, I understand," Catseye nodded, remembering all-too-well how Jean-Paul had been when he'd returned. "But you're getting better. So I think Vanessa will get better too. Everyone gets better. That is the good thing about living," she shrugged, "if you just keep doing it, even through the worst things, you get better, and then the next time something bad happens you remember that it got better last time so you know it will get better again, yes?"

"Yes," Jean-Paul agreed, lips quirked ruefully. How could he gainsay her when she seemed so sure? "I sincerely hope you are correct, mon ami."