Jean and Warren: Getaway

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Jean and Warren go to Miami for a short vacation. Decisions are made.




"You can place those bags in the master bedroom," Warren said to the bellhop as he inspected the penthouse suite. It looked fine.

It hadn't been too difficult to get the room. Enough money and anything works out. And one definitely needed money to stay at The Fountainebleu.

Placing his bag on the counter, he started to get his laptop out. Work never stopped, even if he wanted it to.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?"

Warren didn't even look up from his bag when he answered. "I'm fine. Jean? Do you need anything?"

It was like walking into a movie. The suite had two levels, with a majestic looking staircase that seemed to be made of crystal and steel leading up to where Jean could only guess was the master bedroom. There was also a 180 degree view of the ocean, which stretched out as far as she could see. Distracted by the ocean, Jean shook her head.

"No," she said, finally glancing back to the bellhop. "Thank you."

She crossed to the patio doors that opened out onto a balcony with its own swimming pool and stopped mid way as a cool breeze blew through, carefully tousling her hair.

"It's beautiful."

Warren looked at up, amused by Jean. Forgetting his computer, he trailed behind her. This wasn't anything unusual for him, but he tended to forget that she wasn't raised with money.

At the balcony doors, he leaned on them, arms crossed in front of him, a cocky grin on his face. "I agree. My view is beautiful." Pushing away from the door,he walked towards her. Things had been slightly tense between the two of them, and he didn't like it.

Jean clenched the balcony railing, peering down to see how far the hotel went before it stopped and the beach began. Closing her eyes, she took in the feeling of the wind and the smell of brine, then smiled.

"I meant the ocean."

He came up from behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to nuzzle her hair. "I didn't. The ocean pales in comparison with your beauty." Warren began placing kisses on her neck, one right after the other, as he continued speaking. "In fact, I demand that you take back your comment. Nothing could overtake your role as the most beautiful presence in the room."

Jean peered down at him impassively for a moment. "Wow," she said finally as a slow smirk spread across her lips and she put her finger against his.

"You could make a pizza with all that cheese." She paused.

"Actually pizza does sound nice right about now."

He pulled back from her, his nose wrinkled. "Pizza? Really?". Warren shook his head. "You want to eat pizza in this beautiful place when there's so many delicious options?" Leaning down, he stole a kiss before breaking free of the hug. "Did you bring formal clothes like I asked, or do we need to go shopping? I made dinner reservations for us...I'm not sure if pizza will be offered."

"What can I say? I like things that are extra cheesy," Jean said with a devious grin, leaning in to kiss him back. "Must be why I like you."

She turned to lean with her back against the balcony.

"Yeah, I brought something formal. Hopefully it'll work. I'm sure I can cope without pizza for a couple of nights."

"I should hope so," he said, an amused look on his face and a teasing lilt to his voice. "Now tell me -- you have to be impressed by this, no? Even you can't be immune to these riches."

Jean laughed. "Of course I'm impressed. I think I saw this suite in a movie once. But....you're not. This is normal for you, isn't it?" Her smile faded to one of thoughtfulness as she wandered into the suite, peering around like Alice in Wonderland.

"I guess I'm still trying to wrap my head around your world."

Warren watched her as she peeked around the suite. It was a different lifestyle, he was sure of it, but it wasn't bad. He didn't think it was the hard to understand.

Money equaled things. Lots of money equaled lots of things. Simple math.

"Well, when you're done exploring, let me know. I'm going to start getting ready for dinner." He gave her a smile and walking to her, he gave her a lingering kiss. "There's a separate bathroom suite so you can get ready too."

Jean was surprised by the idea of this as well, then nodded. "Really? Well then, I'll meet you shortly," she said, heading upstairs to grab her bags and her outfit for the evening.

~*~*~*

What was the point of a vacation if it wasn't ridiculously relaxing? Warren couldn't remember the last time he indulged in peace and quiet.

A private beach side gazebo had been rented for the evening, along with a personal chef, for an atmospheric dinner. It was reminiscent of their first date, he thought to himself. Even the conversation was light, which Warren was thankful for. It seemed whenever they talked about anything serious, they argued.

"I'm glad you were able to take a weekend off. I'm sorry you weren't able to go to Vegas with your teammates."

The sun was starting to set, painting the sky with purples, pinks, and reds which reflected on the water. Jean wore a purple dress that had an open back and cut off at just below her knee. She had grabbed a flower on their way down and tucked it behind her ear.

Jean laughed. "Yeah, I'm not. Apparently a magical frost giant showed up and they had to fight them. Pretty sure I dodged a bullet there," she said. For once she was glad she had to work.

"I prefer champagne to pain in my vacations, thanks. I'm enjoying the chance to unwind,"Jean said.

They were horribly short staffed and while she was technically 'off' for the weekend she was usually on call in case of catastrophes. Claire Temple, her coworker and a fellow doctor, had tried to help cover in case anything happened. Jean was keeping her fingers crossed everything turned out alright. It was easier to take two days off. Any more than that became problematic, which is why she didn't go to Vegas since they were going longer.

Warren had absolutely nothing to say back to that. Frost giant? Magic? What? Last time he went to Vegas, it was all alcohol and pools and beautiful women. Not frozen wastelands or whatever it was he was now imagining. Trying his best not to look surprised, he tried the blase approach.

"I think that is a fair statement. Best that you were at work and not in danger again, although, I'm glad you were able to take at least some time off. You work too much," he said with a grin. The same could be said of him, but he had people to delegate to, he had Jolene to assist with tedium and at the end of the day, no matter what happened, he was still the boss's son and as such, he still had certain liberties he could take. Not too much of course. One didn't want any accusations of nepotism to be floating around.

"How is the hospital supposed to expect stellar work if you're barely awake to deal with it? Not to mention," Warren pointed out, "how the team is supposed to rely on you."

He was fairly certain Jean hadn't dropped off the team. For all that she complained about Clarice's behaviours, Warren still didn't think it was enough to drop off a team for.

Leaning back in her chair, Jean grinned. "I come with you for drinking and potential skinny dipping and then you throw logic at me? What's up with that?" she said.

She laughed, running her fingers along the horribly expensive table linen. Her smile faded to a thoughtful one. "I hope one day they'll trust me."

He raised his eyebrows at her mention of skinny dipping. It wasn't something that would ever happen, so he chose not to acknowledge it. Getting his wings wet was his least favourite thing to do.

"Why wouldn't they?," he asked, a tinge of confusion in his voice. "Trust you, that is. I don't understand."

Jean shook her head, falling silent for a few moments. "I'm a telepath. And most of the time if people know it, they're always wondering if I'm listening in on their deepest, darkest secrets. It's what ended my last relationship...paranoia, and hatred. I've been getting this...sense that people are uncomfortable around me. The ones who have been here. They don't know what to make of me. And there's not much I can do to reassure them that I don't except...show them I'm trust worthy. It's just hard sometimes. But....it is getting better."

He leaned back, picking up his wine glass in one move, thinking about what to say. Did he risk getting her angry again and say his piece or did he smile and nod for her sake?

Contemplating his merlot, he threw caution to the wind. There were two bedrooms in the suite.

"But aren't you using your powers to glean that information? And before you get mad," he rushed, "hear me out. I have no idea how people feel with me being there, and frankly, I couldn't care less. They can be as strange as they want, but at the end of the day, their motivation is their own. You, on the other hand, can sense their uneasiness. That in turn has you overcompensatiing, and essentially feeding their uneasiness." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled a cigar and offered one to her. "Does that make sense? I'm not trying to start a fight."

Jean shook her head at the cigar. "Sometimes yes. Sometimes if their emotions are really strong I'll get an empathic bleed that I can't block out, especially if I'm tired or concentrating too hard. But sometimes I can see it, in their eyes, the way they move or talk. And I try to ignore it but sometimes I can't," she said. She glanced down.

"My sister...when I was younger...wasn't so welcoming of my abilities. It took her a long time to finally accept me and realize that I was still the same person she knew. And my boyfriend in college...we broke up because he found out what I could do. And he hated me. Still does. So I guess I've always been gun shy about it."

This part of Jean always confused Warren. She seemed so confident, so headstrong and yet she was plagued with insecurities. Lighting his cigar, he shrugged. "And here you are, letting your past control your future. That boyfriend was obviously a fool, and your sister was jealous. You're in a new place, with new people who have all gone through a traumatic event. It's been two months since they lost several of their own," Warren pointed out.

Jean rubbed her forehead, realizing they were backsliding, again. "Yes, Duncan was an asshole....but Sara...she wasn't jealous. She was afraid of what she didn't understand. And I can understand that. "

She shook her head. "I was taught to shield my mind, to not pay attention, to shut the world out so I wouldn't go mad, and so people would feel safe. You'll never have to know what it's like to have people know you can read their mind, and wonder if you're listening to their deepest darkest thoughts. If they can trust you. Or even if you might hurt them. I've worked so hard to gain my teammate's trust with X-Corps and I'm having to start over, because everyone here knows what I can do now. It's supposed to be a haven but that doesn't stop people from being people. I understand that. I've been living in anonymity for a long time, and now I'm not. So I'm trying to adjust," She closed her eyes.

"I'm well aware of what happened to these people. I'm trying to give them their space and let them heal. And just like it'll take time for them, it'll take time for me. These people are in pain, and I feel it, even when I try to shut it out. Because it's still so raw for them. It's like fighting back a tidal wave sometimes daily and trying to ignore it. It wears you down to be constantly shoring up your mental walls against a barrage of painful emotions and thoughts," she said.

"Some days I succeed, some days I slip. I know it'll get better, and it has. But right now , like you said, it's only been two months for them. They won't heal miraculously in two months and I won't fit in overnight. I'm taking it day by day. I know that's hard for you to grasp. I know you probably haven't had to do this before. So...I'm asking you to try to see it from my perspective. To be there for me to listen sometimes without trying to fix me or assuming it's easy to fix."

It would have been better if he could've focused on what she was saying, but lately he found his attention slipping. As much as he didn't want to be bored, this whole emotional thing was harder than he'd anticipated.

None of what she said made sense. It seemed like she was making the situation worse, but what did he know? It wasn't his life. So he sat and forced himself to be interested and try to understand what she was saying.

Reaching across the table, he placed his hand over hers, and gave her a soft smile. "I can listen. I'm not very good at keeping my opinion to myself but I know we are two very different people. We process things in separate ways. But here we are." He closed his fingers around hers. "So that has to count for something."

Jean fell silent, staring down at his hand. She should have taken it as a cue when his eyes grew distant while she was talking that she'd lost him. After a few long moments she glanced up.

"Is that enough, though?" she said, studying him as she thought about their conversations lately.

"Is that what our lives are going to be? Me trying to talk to you about something important to me and you trying your hardest to stay focused so we can forget about it?" She glanced away.

"I like being with you, Warren. I like how you pull me out of my comfort zone. How confident you are. But I feel like you don't know how to be there for someone through the tough times. Not yet. Because you're not used to anything other than temporary, unattached fun. And that's okay, because it's all you've known. But I don't know if I'm the right person to get you to that point right now. Or if I even am. I'm too...straight laced. Maybe you need someone more like you."

Startled, he found himself pulling back, looking at her pensively. Lifting his cigar from the ash tray, he smoked, trying to process what she had said.

She was straightlaced, but that was some of the fun. He wanted to see her let loose, be free and fun like he knew she could be. But her telepathy was a crutch, something she used as her excuse to not let go. And frankly, it was getting tiring listening to her come up with reason after reason...no matter how valid they really were.

Warren didn't know how long he contemplated this. All he knew was he did feel something for her. Something different than when he was with anyone else. It was real. But she was right -- he didn't know what to do with that.

"So now what?"

Jean shrugged. "Friends?"

"I think...dating became this sort of pendulum hanging over our heads. We can figure out how we are around each other without strings, or expectations. And maybe, in the future, we try this again and if things work out...great. If not? We could just stay where we are. I don't...want you out of my life, Warren. I don't want to stop being around you. I just think it needs to be in a different capacity for both our sanities. I'm feeling waaay too neurotic right now myself to be in a relationship," she said.

"What do you think?"

It did feel strangely relieving to not have to pretend anymore. Pretend what, he wasn't sure. She brought out the goodness in him, but maybe....maybe he wasn't ready for that.

Smiling, even though he wasn't sure if he was actually happy, but knowing that anything else would set her off, he nodded. "I do like you, Jean," he stated. "You're a wonderful person but I think you're right. Friends first seems to be a good idea, and who knows what the future will bring. In the meantime," he said, motioning to an out of sight waiter, "there's wine to be enjoyed and a sunset to appreciate. Let' s not anything ruin this weekend. We both deserve a break. What say you?"

Jean herself was feeling relieved as well. Sometimes she felt more like his mother than his girlfriend. And she didn't want that. She didn't want to be anyone's mother. She was too young for that, and it really wasn't her business. She cared about him, but it was his life. He could do what he wanted with it. He was right. She could get far too in her head, and everyone else's, sometimes. Life was too short to dwell on everything.

"I'll drink to that," she said with a smile, lifting up her glass.