xp_logs | (Backdated) Log: [Betsy, Haller] Suspicions

Betsy continues running her drills, but a few cracks begin to show.

"There's a reason," Jim said as he blocked a high kick with his forearms, "I'm an X-Man and not a ninja. All the yoga in the world" he narrowly evaded a wrist-capture and turned the motion into an attempted leg-sweep "isn't going to get my leg that high."

Betsy laughed, as she twisted, avoiding his move. She turned her back to him, her smile falling before collectively forcing her body into a back flip and ending up behind Jim. Her facade firmly back in place, she added. "It's not the height that you need to worry about, it's pulling off the maneuver without straining a muscle."

Jim started moving to the side even before he turned to face her. "Same principle. That's why I hate picking up your muscle-memory." He made an unsuccessful feint. "Did you wear make-up to this session?"

She grabbed his arm and twisted it, pulling it away and down from his body. "A girl likes to feel pretty," she offered as she bent down, bringing his arm with her. "You really should focus on the task at hand, love."

"Which would be what, getting beaten by a woman already slowing down for me out of pity?" Jim huffed, twisting his upper body before she could secure the arm-lock. It sent him sideways onto the mat, but his arm was still in front of him. He swept a leg to hook her around the ankle.

It took every bit of energy to perform the flip and arm hold but moving out of reach before his leg almost took her down was a miracle. "I'm glad you noticed," Betsy huffed, trying to calm her heaving breaths. "You know, if I was going any slower, I'd be traveling back in time."

Jim hopped out of her range, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Is that why your nails match the Tardis today? Either way, it's obvious I'm still not a challenge for you in this area."

His eyes went grey, and suddenly Betsy found herself frozen on the spot.

"Maybe I should come at you from mine," said Jack.

Betsy felt her insides cool. Her body stiff beyond the TK but internally there was a shift, she couldn't explain. "The point of the exercise is to improve your hand to hand skills and while I appreciate the need to assert control," she looked up into grey eyes and then away. "I don't have the time to entertain your ego right now, so go."

A blink, and the pressure on Betsy disappeared. The man stepped back, his eyes once again the mismatched blue and brown. Jim cocked head, frowning faintly. Her playfulness had vanished. "Betts, what's wrong?" he asked.

Her smile appeared, warm and inviting. "Nothing at all. I just want this to be taken seriously. It matters." As she looked up at him, she kept all sign of struggle off her face, assuming the starting position, willing her body to keep fighting until she couldn't anymore. And by the way she had to force her arms up, it wouldn't be long now. "Again, Jim."

This time he wasn't falling for it. He moved his feet out of fighting stance, clearly signifying the session was over. "I do take it seriously," he said. "Why are you taking it so seriously? You've been pushing hard ever since you came back. Really hard. I've had this job for almost as long as you've known me. What's going on?"

Betsy straightened, shaking her head in disappointment. "I don't know how many times I have to say this. There. Was. A. Knife. At. Your. Back. And you were completely oblivious. I'm not an X-Man anymore. I won't always be there for you and I want to ensure you have all the resources at hand to survive from God knows what will comes through that door. So forgive me for taking this so seriously." Betsy took a few steps back and turned away from Jim.

"There's always been a knife, or a boot, or something," Jim said flatly, ignoring the fact he was now addressing was her back. "I'm sorry you had to see that, but I was getting my ass kicked well into my twenties for reasons nothing to do with being an X-Man. We can and have been attacked even when sitting quietly and minding our own business -- which includes other people in this room, by the way," he added, his voice sharpening.

"You sound like, Remy." Betsy huffed. "Don't let fear win, cherie." Wiping away the sweat from her brow, she added. "But fear is exactly what we need in order to survive. It is the only thing that forces any of us to get out of bed, day after day. And it makes us better than them." She turned to face him, her arms crossed, her face stony. "So, while I know there will always a boot, a knife or something, that fact does not make me complacent."

"I have a healthy respect for what could go wrong. Things go wrong every couple months just to remind me. I'm careful. What you've been is borderline pathological." He studied her, his eyes narrow. She looked tired behind her determination, as if something in her had been ground down into some kind of resolve.

"Tell me you're not going on a suicide mission," he said quietly. "Tell me this isn't you getting your affairs in order before you take a shot at Kwannnon."

"Hah! Now you definitely sound like, Remy." She took a seat on the floor. Her anger diminishing, her body no longer holding onto the fight. It wasn't graceless but it was a near thing. "No, I'm not going after her. And honestly, I don't think I want to. This is all that matters to me now."

"Okay." She wasn't lying. He could sense it. Whatever it was that was going on, she wasn't lying about that. "Okay." Jim felt his muscles unlock as the tension left him. He walked up to her and let himself join her on the floor. It was only partially because of the sudden weakness in his knees.

After all those weeks of her training him, pushing him, it was only now that he realized he really had been expecting her to admit she was going off to die.

Jim leaned on his folded knees and looked at her. "I worry about you, Betts," he said after a moment. "I know you worry about me, but it's a two-way street. I know you can't tell me everything you're involved in, but . . . sometimes it's frustrating."

"But I'm fine." Betsy leaned into him, placing her head on his shoulder. "When it's my end, I'll let you know." she added the last with a grim smile. "Promise. Until then, you keep practicing until it's right." She leaned in and kissed him, pulling back, she lingered over his lips, her eyes flicking up to his own. "But I'll watch from the floor."

This time he caught the fatigue under the playfulness. "Still not feeling well?" Jim frowned, gently slipping around the joke. He put a hand to her forehead. No fever, just clamminess. He sighed. "Babe, please see a doctor. Or at least don't try to power through it with me in the gym. You've had this bug for weeks. It's not going to get better when you keep pushing yourself."

She reached for his hand and kissed it, cupping it with both of hers. " Not quite but Jean is keeping a watchful eye on me. I just need to rest every so often." She felt a tendril of guilt and sighed. "Tell Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so cold and callous. This exercise is for the both of you. Sometimes, I forget that."

"We can hear you fine." Jim roped an arm around Betsy's waist and pulled her into his side. It wasn't the most romantic gesture when they were both damp with sweat, but it was comfortable. "But yeah, telekinesis does defeat the purpose of hand-to-hand. I'll try not to screw around in the future."

"Thank you." Betsy pulled back. "Can hear me fine? Wait, you don't mean," she pointed at his head. " allthe time?" She cleared her throat, uncomfortable. "That's not right, is it?"

"Not Davey since I lost co-consciousness with him, but the alters are all me, so yeah, technically. Remember?" Jim gave a little shake of his head. "I don't know. I honestly don't think about it that way. I told you, I'm usually more together around you. When that happens there's less 'them' to think about."

She felt her cheeks flush. "So when your eyes change color, it means what exactly?"

"Huh?-- oh right." It happened sometimes, he'd been told, even when he was Jim -- usually just the right eye in those circumstances, the David eye. He thought for a moment. "Probably that an aspect of my personality the alter represents is heightened, but not enough to switch. I'd have to check with the professor. I can't really tell when it happens."

"Must've slipped my mind..." she added thoughtfully. She couldn't look Jim in the eye as she asked. "Last I remember Jack's eyes are the only ones that are bluegrey, right? It always changes right before you engage the TK or..." Her throat closed up on her, unable to finish the sentence. "Nevermind."

The sudden tension in her body evoked an odd look. "Or 'nevermind'?" he repeated.

She felt her cheeks grow hotter. Christ. Now, Betsy couldn't help but think of the possible audience all those times and her almost pavlovian reaction to Haller's ever changing eye. Bashfully, she added. "Or...for after sparring."

One look at her face said it all. "Are you blushing?'" he asked, bordering on incredulity. He started to laugh, then quickly covered his mouth. "Sorry, it's not funny, but . . . babe, there are parts of our relationship that involve assertiveness. That's a fairly big one. Trust me, it doesn't mean I'm switching, just feeling a little more . . . aggressive."

Betsy willed the floor to swallow her up. She knew what it meant but it was the fact that she'd grown to like it, to like Him. Hell, she was definitely going to hell.

Jim softened. As rare as her chagrin was, he didn't want to be cruel. He smiled and bumped his shoulder against hers. "Look, if you're ever uncomfortable . . . just tell me. We'll stop. Not that you've seemed to mind in the past" he teased gently, sensing no ebb in her underlying current of attraction, "but if the association gets to you I'm not going to be offended. It's not like we haven't spent months apart on a regular basis. I can deal with a few cold showers."

Her breath came in slow, measured and shook off the slight anxiety "I don't want to stop. I'm just being silly." She leaned in and kissed him a few times. "I love you. "

"I love you, too." Some of the unease he'd felt earlier was returning. Something was still off. Damn, damn, damn. It was so hard to know when to push and when to back off with her. When she didn't want to talk every detail was like pulling teeth, and one confrontation was probably enough for one day. Jim sighed and brushed back her hair. "Just remember, I'm here. If something's up, all you have to do is tell me."

"I know." She rubbed her hand along his arm. "You're tired. Want to call it a day?"

"Sure," he replied, his quirked mouth indicating he was well aware that the fatigue wasn't just his. He gave her a quick one-armed squeeze. "Shower, dinner, then fall asleep in front of the TV?"

"Sounds lovely."