xp_logs | Doug and Marie-Ange

Doug comes out of therapy with some good news, and Marie-Ange happens to be there to meet him and take him to dinner. Well, at least -partly- coincidence.

Doug fished a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on as he walked down the stairs of the building that contained Dr. Gus Grim's office. The setting sun was glinting off windows, and he didn't feel like adding eyestrain from squinting to the slight headache he tended to come out of most of his therapy sessions with. It had been taxing, but that was more or less standard - Dr. Grim didn't believe in beating around the bush, and tended to cut straight through to the root of things. Doug's stomach rumbled slightly, and he started to consider where he felt like eating dinner as he turned down the street.

It really had been coincidence that Marie-Ange's schedule had taken her a half-block away from Doug's therapy session. It was not at all coincidence that she lingered at a coffee shop for fifteen minutes so that she could 'run into him' after - his therapy schedule was not a secret, after all.

She came out of the cafe with a pair of iced drinks just as he rounded the corner and paused to see if he was paying attention or if she would have to make herself noticed.

Doug's observational skills tended to be sharpened after a therapy session. Even if he was lost in thought mulling over things, he was usually very aware of his surroundings. So he saw Marie-Ange as he turned the corner, and maneuvered so they would fall in step together. His eyebrows arched over the tops of his sunglasses as he looked at her. "Checking up on me?" he asked, more curious than accusatory.

"No. Well, yes, but that was not my primary reason. I had a meeting in the area, and checking up on you happened to be convenient." Marie-Ange explained, and held out one drink towards Doug. "As did getting you a coffee drink. It seemed as though, if I was going to check up on you, then I would also make it up to you with caffeine."

"Seems fair," Doug murmured as he took a sip of the drink. "A little bribery never hurt." He turned his head slightly, trying to assess her. "So what's on your mind? How much of a 'checking in' did you want from this?"

"Nothing specific is on my mind." Marie-Ange said, after a sip of her own drink. "You leave therapy quite a bit more than tired most of the time. Sometimes I worry. And you do not often talk about it, so I was curious as to how it was going."

Sunglasses helped, sometimes, when it was difficult for Doug to talk about things. It provided at least a veneer of separation, that small bit of distance that let him be more open and honest. "It's...going pretty well. Exhausting, but productive." He shrugged. "I suppose it has something to do with important things being difficult, or something." They walked a few more steps before he spoke again. "I was going to go talk to Remy first, but you might want to know - Dr. Grim signed off on my being able to go out in the field again."

Marie-Ange's pace actually slowed slightly before she even had a chance to respond. "That is good, yes? He thinks you have control over the water phobia, no more panic if you get caught in the rain?" It was probably the most significant thing she could think of that might stop him in his tracks.

The question was a bit on the nose, a bit coldly practical, but that was who Marie-Ange was these days. Doug was doing his best to understand that better, and accepting of her, rather than the occasional wish for 'what used to be', tinged as it was by nostalgia and regret. Besides, the life they had gone into demanded that practicality more often than not. "He tossed a glass of water in my face during the session, just to see," he admitted with a wry half-grin.

"Without warning you?" Marie-Ange asked. "Oh. Well, I should perhaps text Remy to suggest that has already been tested so that he does not duplicate your doctor's efforts." She had a wry expression, not quite a smile, but close. She pulled out her phone and made as if to press the keys. "Remy. when Doug tells you he is field capable do not throw water at him. His doctor already did. Ask Ororo to rain on his head instead." She dictated aloud, though her fingers did not quite hit the keys.

Doug's reply was an indifferent shrug. He'd more or less expected some kind of 'testing' from his teammates, with varying levels of playfulness depending on who was doing it. Marie-Ange would be an odd blend of playfulness and practicality, Remy would be all emotionless calculation. Either way, it was something he was mentally prepared for. "Up to you," he said with approximately his twentieth shrug of the conversation. Tired diffidence seemed to be the order of the day.

Marie-Ange returned the shrug with one of her own, and put her phone away. "What did you do? When he threw the water at you?"

"Swore at him. For about five minutes." That had been after a brief moment where the 'fight' part of the 'fight or flight' instinct had almost kicked in. Then he'd just been angry. And of course, that had been the entire point of the exercise, to get to a point where fear and panic didn't control the situation. "I think saying it was a dick move was the nicest thing I said."

"Well it was rather aggressive of him, but I cannot imagine how else he might have tested it?" Marie-Ange suggested. She took her phone back out, but this time she pressed the keys, and a moment later, Doug's phone buzzed. "That is me. I have made a bet with myself that I know where you want to go get dinner, because your therapy must have not been easy at all. You should suggest a dinner location, and then see if I was correct in my prediction."

"How about I make a bet with myself that I can guess where you will predict I want to go?" Doug asked with a smirk. "You know, for maximum meta-commentary." He pressed the back of a hand to his head in the classic fortune-teller pose. "I'm thinking you guessed...Mama Lupe's." He fished his phone out of his pocket. "Oh, look at that."

"You do have very well established patterns of behavior. I had hoped that your Doctor Grim would not have you break the more pleasant ones." Marie-Ange said, after sticking her tongue out at Doug. "This way, also you have leftovers, because she always gives you too much food, and then you can indulge your taste for spicy food after you have to talk to Remy." Which Marie-Ange wouldn't have looked forward to if she had been in Doug's place, and she did not have nearly the same clashing personality issues with the Cajun that Doug did.

"Yeah." The playfulness rather abruptly vanished at the mention of Remy. Doug knew he needed to talk to the Cajun, and among other things apologize for the end run he'd made in going to Wanda. But that didn't make the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach any less for the knowing.

"No you do not just get to "yeah", or else I imagine your Dr. Grim would probably have something to say about that. Instead, we will get dinner, and you can fret about the future later." Marie-Ange was painfully aware of how deeply hypocritical she was being with that statement, but then, she could afford to be, because she was the one giving Doug a little shove to try to get him out of the morose plodding pace he'd fallen into.