Log - Jennie and Warren

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Warren meets up with Jennie at her dance studio, and she gives him the rundown on classes



Jennie's studio was on the second floor of a two-hundred year old building in Salem Center. Below ground was a salon, the whirr of the hairdryers blocking the claps and laughter coming from the floor above. The windows were bright, the ceilings high, and the floor wooden and new. In this universe, Jennie had come back, and with a loan from the parents of her best friend from her NYU days, the ever-unstoppable Marnie McKinnon, they'd opened their dream studio, with Marnie handling the bulk of their income (the kid's classes) and Jennie taking most of the older students.

However, on this snowy, gray afternoon Jennie was putting the studio to use with some rare down time. Sia hummed from the sound system, and Jennie let her limbs twitch and flow, no set choreography in mind, dancing sometimes with an imaginary partner, sometimes not.

It felt good just to dance again.

Since joining the crew at the Mansion, Warren was finding less and less reason to really go into the city. He went to work, and stopped at his home to change, maybe nap,but he ultimately was enjoying the fact that he could be himself with the Mansion's residents. At least, he hoped so.

During an idle walk around the building, he'd come up against a community board of sorts, where various notices were attached. One was about a dance studio, which for whatever reason had caught his eye. Warren, as a good little WASP child, had been subjected to ballroom dancing lessons, and found that while it wasn't his first choice for activity, he was fairly good at it, and enjoyed it for the most part. At least, when there was a decent partner. He hated tripping.

Now, he found himself in Salem Centre, a contract signed, and some time to kill. He didn't particularly want to be caught in rush hour traffic, although that was almost always a given for Manhattan. Regardless, he was putting off going home, when he caught a sign on a building. It was the same dance studio that had been advertised at the Mansion. He felt he could safely assume it was mutant friendly, but he'd reserve that until he saw who ran it.

Peeking his head into the studio, he saw a graceful brunette that he vaguely recognized from the Mansion, moving in time with the music. Contemporary, he thought. It was nice, and he found himself leaning against the doorwell, watching her. When the song ended, he clapped with appreciation. "That was fantastic. You're very talented. I can see why you're running a studio."

Jennie started and swung, only to turn it into a graceful bow. "Monsuier," she said, her French finally properly accented. (Though she did have days when she would deliberately mispronounce things to annoy Marius). She lifted herself from her bow. "Worthington, am I correct?" She pushed her irritation at being interrupted away, smoothing it into a warm and flirtatious smile, raw emotion sliding seamlessly into old, comfortable Jennie.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Curiosity," he responded, pushing himself off of the wall. Walking into the room, he found it to be a standard dance room, but inviting nonetheless. "I saw your notice at Xavier's and I was in the neighbourhood. Thought I'd come and check it out. I have done lessons in the past, but I'm a little rusty." He gave a coy smile. "And one never knows when dancing will be required."

"In our neck of the woods, you never do know," Jennie returned coyly. Her heartrate was still up, so she turned and walked to the seat by the mirrored wall where her water was, she turned off the music player, marveling at how she could hide the tremor in her hands. The man had caught her with her emotional pants down, and she was getting whiplash from the flip-flop to 'Normal' Jennie. She turned, one hand on her hip, and a gracefully flirtatious pose. "Are you looking for lessons? I'm afraid Ballroom is not on our menu this quarter."

"Pity," he said, a smile firmly planted on his face. "I am an excellent waltzer." Extending a hand, he gave her an inquisitive look. "And while I hate to admit it, I'm afraid I don't know your name. A beautiful woman should never remain nameless."

Jennie extended hers, "Jennifer Stavros, Jennie if you please. Spelled with an 'i.e.' because I like to be annoying."

Warren chuckled as he gave her a firm handshake. "Well, Jennie with an ie, it's a pleasure to meet you.". Taking his hand back, he placed it loosely in his pocket. "And I'd like to know more about your programs here. I quite enjoy dance."

"Ah, well, we do what sells right now, as we are a young business and growing our clientele. Literally in some cases," Jennie thought fondly of the 6-year-olds in their tights and tutus. "So right now, it's ballet, jazz, modern and hip hop, I take the older classes, my partner in crime Marnie takes the children's. I also do a special Lindy Hop on Saturday nights."

"It must keep you busy," he stated. "Do you have time for anything else? I haven't seen you much at the mansion"

"Busy enough," Jennie said. "Marnie does a lot too, and if we get any bigger we're going to have to take on more staff, we didn't expect such a run on dance classes in the area. But I'm also down in the medlab a lot, helping out with inventory and budget and whatnot, it's what I had been doing before I ran off to join the Royal London Ballet."

The ballet? "You know," he began, amused. "Most people run away to join the circus. The Royal London ballet sounds much more appealing though. I'd love to hear more about that "

Jennie slid on her sweatshirt and slouchy pants over her dance costume. "It's not much of a story really, none of them were too fond of the American interloper with the over-muscular body and the giant boobs, if a day went by that I wasn't bleeding or crying I called it a win. Imagine finding this thing," as Jennie lead Warren over to the cubbies where street shoes were kept, and pulling out her boots, "that you can do better than most other people, and you want to surround yourself with your peers because you think you'll be accepted. Find a place. Find a family. And instead they treat you like dogshit," Jennie raised an eyebrow at Warren as she pulled on thick wooly socks over her battered feet.

That was certainly not the answer he was expecting,but he took it in ease. "And yet you overcame it all and have now begun a new venture in your life, one that seems to be very promising," he responded with a smile. "It appears though that I might be keeping you from something," he motioned to her shoes. "Unless that something is returning to the mansion which in that case, I'd like to offer you a ride."

"Actually," Jennie leaned back up on her hands and smiled up at him. "I was thinking of getting coffee. You want coffee?"

"I have an inability to say no to such a beautiful smile," he responded with a grin of his own. "Coffee sounds fantastic. Anywhere in particular?"

"There's a great place a couple blocks away called Double Rainbow. They do a mean dirty chai," Jennie stood with little effort and fished around for her coat. "You planning on staying with us for a while?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask what a dirty chai is," he said, hands in his pocket. "Although I'm sure my version is different than what the barista would provide." He would leave that open to interpretation. "And for your question, I don't know how long I will be around. I'm enjoying myself, enjoying the company of everyone, and it seems to be a friendly enough atmosphere. It helps that I'm able to do my work essentially anywhere, and only have to make the odd appearance in my office right now. Of course, that will change once we get closer to the end of the fourth quarter, at which point I imagine not seeing anyone until after the stockholder reports." He paused. "that was all terribly boring. I apologize. Let's go get inappropriately named drinks. I'm buying."

"Oh, you'll like it," said Jennie, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "Allons-y!