Jean and Adrienne (Backdated to Thursday Night)

[x-adrienne.livejournal.com]

Adrienne babysits a drunken Jean who is celebrating her new fellowship. As Adrienne, in a bad mood after her texts with Rogue, learns more about Jean she has trouble relating to her which makes Jean uncomfortable and leads to them going their separate ways.

Sauntering across the bar from the ladies room towards the table where Jean was waiting, Adrienne put her phone back in her pocket. She felt guilty about checking the device while out with Jean, but Jean wasn't really into sports so Adrienne didn't feel as if she could discuss the Moncado signing with her, so she was keeping her search for news about the new Red Sox player on the down-low.

She also felt guilty about not drinking. It seemed odd to stay sober when she was supposed to be helping Jean celebrate her new job, but Adrienne didn't trust herself to be drinking right now with someone who was pretty much a stranger. She had a lot of emotions going on that she didn't know how to process thanks to the upcoming birthday that wouldn't be. The texts with Rogue hadn't helped her mood, either. Hopefully the fact that Adrienne had opened Jean's tab would make up for the fact she wasn't actually drinking. And with the rate Jean was going through drinks, maybe she wouldn't even notice soon.


"Everything good?" she asked Jean as she sat back down.

"Faboo," Jean replied back with a grin. "I can pay for my own drinks too, even if I am super...appreciative. Because I have a new job," she said, stage whispering.

She squinted thoughtfully to where there was a group of girls hooting and hollering. "They're having a bachelorette party over there and....I think the drunk people are affecting me. I'm sorry." She rested her chin in her hands, frowning.

"You have pensive face."

"I'm thinking about a baseball thing," Adrienne explained, shrugging and trying to change her expression to happy face instead of pensive face. "And you can pay for your own drinks next time. You're trying to get Warren Worthington to be in a 'real relationship'," she smirked, gesturing to Briar for another round for Jean and another club soda with lime for herself. "I imagine you'll be drinking a lot in the future."

Jean curled her nose. "Hey....he wanted to be....this. I told him I was worried he'd just want to screw me because we haven't yet and then leave. And he was like....'No...I wanna be with you,'" she said, her voice dropping an octave as she slipped on Adrienne's sunglasses. She left them on as she leaned back in her chair, taking another drink.

"But I don't wanna talk about men....I wanna talk about...fun. I don't know what's fun. My life has been medical....doctor super rescue squad MD," she saluted, then sighed, resting her knuckles against her cheek.

"I miss fun."

Adrienne blinked for several moments, trying to process the fact that Jean hadn't slept with Warren yet. She opened her mouth to comment but closed it when Jean declared that she didn't want to talk about men and changed the subject. Whatever. It had been far beyond Adrienne's capabilities to try to understand what went on in the brains of Warren and Jean when Adrienne had actually known them. Now that she no longer did, trying to get involved seemed rather pointless. All she cared about was that Warren keep any relationship drama out of the XFI office.

"But if you don't know what fun is, how do you know you miss it?" Adrienne asked her, an eyebrow raised as if in challenge. She found it fun to get drunk people to answer vaguely philosophical questions.

Pulling down the sunglasses to squint at Adrienne, Jean made another face as she pointed at her. "I've read it in books. So I know the definition. Besides...I think I had it before. It met all the definitions for fun. I just....don't get to have it a lot. I should. But I was always the model model student...and....and....So I got the good grades. And the scholarships...and so I had less fun."

She downed a shot, looking like it didn't even affect her before her eyes, widening slightly, betrayed her, and she immediately started to cough.

"See that...that was fun. And...burny." She hiccuped.

Adrienne's eyebrow remained raised. "I don't think downing shots is meant to be thought of as fun. I think it's meant to be thought of as a drinking problem." She leaned back in her chair and pondered the question. "What did you used to do for fun before? Like... what did you do that met all the definitions for fun?" This Jean was so foreign to Adrienne, she wanted to get a better idea of the sort of stuff she was into before suggesting anything similar to the types of shenanigans they used to get up to.

Jean rested her chin on the table. "We had parties...dinner parties, movie parties...the other residents and I. And we went to clubs. We danced. Besides, drinking in moderation is fun. Shots maybe...no...but pina coladas? Yum," she said, then leaned back.

"I think...I should quit before I get sick though," she added, taking a drink of water. Hydration was important.

"Probably a good idea," Adrienne nodded. "Moderation is key." She tossed away her usual list of 'fun' things to do while out drinking. Which was unfortunate because she'd been holding on to an idea that involved breaking into the High Line and creating some kind of 'public art installation' under the cover of darkness.

But then, most things on her list had some degree of illegality, and everything had some degree of immorality to it. And after Jean had explained what she'd found fun, Adrienne figured she should adjust her parameters and tried to think of some things that were a little tamer than stealing cars from valet stands and the like. She felt like she needed to think of things that were more... wholesome than her usual schtick. Glow-bowling? One of those social-setting-art-places where you painted a picture and drank cocktails? Midnight screening of Rocky Horror? Hmm. "I'm having a hard time thinking of fun things that aren't in some way illegal, or at least a little immoral," she confessed finally, not wanting to make Jean wait too long for a response.

The wheels were turning in Adrienne's head, and it didn't take a telepath to tell.

"So that means you have a record, hmm?" Jean said with a smirk, not in a judgmental way, just curious.

"Or you're very good at subterfuge."

She peered at the bottom of her glass, studying the ice. She got the sense the woman was still guarded, very guarded. But that that was normal. People didn't just suddenly become guarded for no reason. Something had to happen to do that. They had to have been hurt. You get hurt, you develop an armor to protect yourself from ever being hurt again.

"I'm not perfect or squeaky clean, y'know. But...I'd rather not be arrested."

Adrienne snorted club soda out her nose at Jean's question about whether she had a record. But then she realized that the version of her in this universe actually didn't have one. The mafia had killed Steven in this universe. And Vanessa was nowhere to be found, so all the crazy shit they'd done in the old universe had never led to any arrests here.

It took a moment to think of another reason that she might have laughed about an arrest record. "Let's go with subterfuge, and how about a splash of 'I'm quite rich and money buys you out of a lot of trouble' thrown in for good measure?" she suggested.

Jean rested her chin in her hand as she found herself smirking again. "Fair enough," she said.

"So I imagine you and Warren run in the same circles?" She had a feeling he probably had paid his way out of a speeding ticket or worse in his day.

The idea of being with someone like that, when she herself was the epitome of a 'good girl' made her wonder sometimes.

"More often than not," Adrienne shrugged, "though I no longer do the drugs at the parties." She toyed with the sobriety chip in her pocket. "We'd actually never met before he came to the mansion. But now that I've enlightened him about the Hellfire Club I imagine we'll run in the same circles more often. Plus, he seems quite interested in X-Factor Investigations."

"X-Factor is...the detective...agency, right?" Jean said, realizing the alcohol she'd just had was gradually starting to catch up to what she already drank.

"What's the Hellfire Club? It sounds....like a goth kid rave club."

"XFI are detectives, yeah. Except we don't have a van we can drive around to solve mysteries," Adrienne answered with a smirk. "And the Hellfire Club..." she trailed off pensively. "It might be better if you don't know. There's a lot of illegal shit that happens there. And a lot of sex. That's why Worthington was so excited about joining. Sorry," she added, making a pained face at Jean. "The non-illegal explanation is that it's a club for society's rich to make business deals and power-monger."

Jean tilted her head frowning, then held up her hands. "Okay...um....just...so you know...I've been around sex traffickers....drug dealers...a guy who cut his own kid's kid's...hand off for...because he wanted to 'teach him a lesson for stealing from him.' I've smoked pot. I've....slept with guys.....not in awhile but....Just because I choose not...to do something because it's...illegal or..."bad"...doesn't mean...I'm going to...faint or something hearing about it...

"So...maybe Warren and I probably need to have...long talk....But...you can tell me these things. I'm not gonna break...I promise," she said, crossing her heart.

"You seem nice," she said, offering her a sleepy smile as she patted her arm.

Adrienne stared at Jean's arm touching hers as if it was made of snakes. "I'm really not," she responded, raising a bemused eyebrow. DrunkJean was kind of adorable. The sex trafficking and the hand stories, not so much. But everything else made Adrienne want to pat her on the head the way Jean was patting her arm. "I am a cold-hearted mega-bitch. You're the one who seems nice, Gumdrop. But if you're gonna keep hooking up with Worthington I'm sure some of the shine will rub off soon enough," she grinned encouragingly. That was what Jean seemed to want, right?

"I...think you're...a crazy driver. But, cold-hearted....mega bitch? Nah," Jean said, waving the thought away. She steepled her fingers, propping her elbows on the table, then rested her chin on them.

"Psh....I can be bad," she said, then leaned in. "I stole some gum from the store once....AND....I cheat at billiards," she whispered.

She then sighed. "Being bad is hard work."

Billiards? Really? Adrienne was starting to worry her eyebrow was going to remain permanently raised around this version of Jean. "It's really not," she corrected, almost apologetically. This conversation was definitely enlightening some things about herself that Adrienne wasn't too keen on.

"And you don't know me very well. It's not like I feel the need to prove anything to you," she explained, "but you shouldn't really get too attached to the idea of me being a good or a nice person. I tried that for a while. It doesn't stick." This week especially, she really wanted that statement to be true. Tandy would have celebrated her birthday this weekend. Adrienne would have agonized about what to give her, organized a party for her. But that wasn't going to happen, and it hurt. A lot. So much that Adrienne wanted to make sure she didn't get that close to anyone again. Especially when Jean reminded her of Tandy. So naive, so... good. It wasn't like she didn't care about Jean. Adrienne wasn't walling herself up in a box. She just didn't want to give as much of herself as she once would have before the Dark Phoenix had come around.

"But maybe if you keep hanging around with me, being bad won't be such hard work for you, huh?" she suggested with a smirk, still unable to figure out if Jean was trying to convince herself that Adrienne was a good person because she didn't want to hang out with a bad one, or if Jean herself was looking to be more 'bad'.

Jean stared at Adrienne for a few moments. There was something in her body language, the way she talked to her. She knew why she acted the way she did. She had told her. But it was like walking on eggshells. And she realized that was why it felt so awkward.

"I'm sorry," she said, leaning back in her seat. "I've been trying....too hard and I'm sorry. I think you're an interesting person...with a lot of life....and...passion.You're not afraid to speak your mind. You don't seem to care what people say. And I want to get to know you better. Because I want to be friends...not because I'm looking for a mentor or whatever. But I'm not sure how to...connect with you...and you keep looking at me like I'm from another planet. You told me why...I know. I'm sorry.

And when I see you....sad....and grieving...and I want be there for you. But...I think I'm just making it worse. Because...we barely know each other. I know...I'm trying too hard. I'm...in this...new place with all these people looking at me strangely because I'm new...It happened a lot when I was younger....And it used to be easier, because I know I'd be moving away so I'd never see them again...but now it's not easy at all. Because I'm staying. And...that scares the crap out of me.

And I don't know what to do anymore. So...." She pulled out her cellphone, then tried to stand, and managed to carefully keep herself from falling over by putting a firm hand on the table.

"I'm going to call a cab. And...If you want me to leave you alone from now on....I will. Cause I don't want to cause you any more sadness. Good Night Adrienne."
.
She listened to the bachelorette party in the background in full swing as she looked for the door. It kept bothering her. And she could only take so much.

Adrienne had been prepared to respond at several points while Jean spoke, but then she said goodnight and Adrienne wasn't about to stop her from leaving. This whole thing, going out tonight after her fight with Rogue, with Tandy on her mind, was obviously a mistake. "Yeah, I think that would be for the best. Goodnight," she nodded, signalling to Briar for the bill.

It was the words that Jean hadn't wanted to hear, but she did. Stopping her in her tracks a moment, she lowered her head, then straightened and tried to sober up enough to make it to the lobby area. She wasn't going to wait out on the street because it was too cold. So she took a seat on bench right in front of the door, dialing for a cab. She didn't want to look back.