Jean and Adrienne (Backdated)

[x-adrienne.livejournal.com]

After their game of Costume Party Bingo during Adri's birthday party, Jean takes Adrienne out for dinner to a new place in order to get Adrienne to finally admit that she needs glasses.

"Hey, this isn't Balthazar," Adrienne pouted as Driver dropped them off in front of a restaurant in Midtown. Driver and Jean had conspired to keep the destination of her dinner a secret from her, and Adrienne's disappointment quickly evaporated as she realized they were at the hot new place that had just opened last week. "Ooo. Never mind!" She climbed out of the car and took a place in the line that had formed to wait for the first seating. "You got us into this place? How'd you manage it?"

"I treated the owner's son at Claremont," Jean said, wrapping the shawl she had around her. "Saved his life. The owner was so grateful he said he'd buy me dinner whenever I wanted. All I had to do was tell him when and he'd make room." She smiled.

"Figured this was better than Balthazar." She shrugged.

"I was going to take Warren eventually but I'd rather go with someone I don't want to chuck down the bottom of a ravine."

"Well, I will gladly take his place then and relish the fact that you don't want to chuck me down the bottom of a ravine," Adrienne responded with a smirk. The menu for the new place wasn't one Adrienne was familiar with, but it was on the wall closer to the entrance. At least, she hoped that was what was on the wall. To her it just looked like a big block of white from where she was standing. "Although I should tell you now, this can be a date if you want it to be, but I'm not going to put out for you. Sorry."

Jean snapped her fingers. "Damn. My intentions are revealed. Maybe just a little mouth action? Talking turns me on so much," she deadpanned, slipping on her reading glasses to get a glance.

"Do you know what you want?" she said.

Adrienne's eyebrows had shot up at 'mouth action' but returned to normal latitude with the rest of the sentence, which made her chuckle. "Hmm, no idea." The line moved forward a little and Adrienne hoped it would be enough for her to get a clear view of the menu on the wall, but she still couldn't make out the writing, no matter how much she squinted. "Probably the salad?" she suggested, assuming there would be one on the menu somewhere.

Jean glanced over. "Which one? There are 8 choices," she said, turning back to study the menu.

"Did you forget you reading glasses? I can tell you what's there." The question wasn't meant to be an insult, merely a casual observation. She had a feeling the answer would be 'no' since she likely didn't wear any.

"Pfft, who needs reading glasses? Not me," Adrienne scoffed, squinting harder. Finally, she gave up and looked up the menu for the place on her phone. "The goat cheese and almond one," she told Jean triumphantly.

Jean slowly nodded. "Mmmhmm," she acknowledged.

"You do know that too much squinting causes crows feet, right? Not to mention it'd probably stop the headaches." If she was squinting that badly it was easy to guess she had them. She shrugged. "Hey, I thought glasses were in. I was eying some Gucci frames a while back when I thought about getting new glasses."

Adrienne frowned at Jean. And kept frowning at her. "You're too smart for your own good sometimes, you know that?" she muttered before she realized that she wasn't supposed to really know this Jean that well yet. Oh well. She waited a beat and the universe didn't explode or anything, so Adrienne figured she was safe. "This whole thing was a set up cuz you don't want to tell me you think I need glasses, wasn't it?"

"Partially, "Jean said with a smile. If she noticed she didn't say anything. "I didn't think you'd go for the direct approach so I figured I'd try some gentle nudging. I'm not sure if you noticed but seem to be a bit stubborn. I was interested in eventually coming here, though so I figured this would work for multiple reasons."

Adrienne frowned at Jean some more but then let it go, knowing that Jean had her best interests at heart. "Does Gucci really make glasses?"

"Gucci, Versace, Christian Dior, Burberry....If you can name it they probably have it," Jean said with a smile.

"There's a shop around the corner. We could check it out when we're done eating if you want. Pick out a few pairs that you can use depending on your mood. But for them to get lenses you'd have to see the optometrist first."

Adrienne was still frowning, thinking hard about this whole thing. She did like the idea of using glasses as fashion accessories. "Can we tell people I don't actually need them and am just wearing them to accessorize?" she asked Jean tentatively. "Can I try yours?" she wanted to see if glasses really would make a difference in her vision.

Quirking a brow, Jean slipped them off and offered them to her. "I don't think they're going to be the same prescription so when you put them on you'll get a bit of vertigo. But yes, we can totally say you don't need them and you're being a hipster," she said with a smirk.

"They also make contacts if it's really hard to see. People won't even know you have them on."

Adrienne put on Jean's glasses and the world was instantly sharper, though there was a degree of vertigo. "Whoa. You weren't kidding." She took them off and gave them back. "That's a trip and a half. Are you like, super blind with no glasses on?"

Jean laughed. "No," she said. "I just need them for reading far away things like road signs or watching TV. It's a little blurry but not too bad. I could probably have corrective surgery that would eliminate the need entirely. Once you find our your prescription it'll be like night and day, trust me."

"So why don't you have corrective surgery?" Adrienne inquired curiously as they finally made their way to the front of the line.

Slipping her glasses into her purse, Jean was thoughtful. "I don't know," she admitted.

"First it was money, then it was time away from work....Now....I guess there's no good reason."

"Except that glasses are fashionable?" Adrienne offered suggestively.

Jean grinned. "Exactly. They're fashionable. And make you look like you know what you're doing." Because sometimes she didn't so at least she could look the part.

"Well, I don't really have that problem," Adrienne lied with a shrug, "and I feel like you don't really have that problem either," she complimented Jean. "But I can see how that would be true for other people."

Tilting her head, Jean laughed. "Thanks. Definitely a big self esteem booster there. I feel like my track record has been spotty as of late," she said.

"Well, I guess the whole Warren thing didn't really help the track record," Adrienne admitted with a sympathetic wince. "But, y'know. You're young. You live, you learn. Basically, men are scum," she shrugged.

Jean made a face like she had tasted something sour at the name 'Warren,' then shrugged it away. "I'll drink to that," she said, raising an invisible glass.

"Once we have drinks. What's the saying? Oh....'Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My god do you learn.' I think I'm going to stick with the nice, dependable guys from now on. Or die alone, eaten by cats. I haven't decided yet."

"Ugh, cats are such shits." Adrienne wrinkled her nose. "I know where you can get one if you're ever serious about that. This thing would probably not hesitate before eating your dead body. I think it would be far more difficult to find a dependable guy than to find a cat that would eat you. Which is just really, really unfair." Why were cats so much more plentiful than dependable guys?

Jean laughed. "But, come to think of it, you also have to keep a cat alive, which is kind of a problem with my work schedule. I think I should probably settle for the company of wine for the next year or so until my fellowship ends. At least I don't have to feed wine,listen to it talk about stock options, or watch it preen in the mirror like a peacock for 20 minutes every morning." She was trying so hard not to laugh at the mental image of Warren trying to flex his pecs that one time.

Adrienne snorted at that comment but paused while the hostess seated them, gushing over Jean on the owner's behalf. "I think you've got the right idea," she carried on when they had settled in. "Wine is pretty fantastic company. I really like the holder you gave me for my birthday, by the way."

"What can I say? I was inspired," Jean said with a grin.

"I'm glad you like it. It was either that or something you probably already have."

"What makes you think I'd probably already have something you tried to buy me?" Adrienne asked curiously, picking out an expensive bottle of wine for them and making a 'should we get this one?' face at Jean as she pointed to it.

Jean nodded in satisfaction. "Good choice," she said, peering over the menu. She smiled at her question.

"You seem like you know what you want, and you get it. No beating around the bush."

"This is true," Adrienne mused, pleased with Jean's assessment. "I've never gotten myself much in the way of... stuff before, though, now that I think about it. Clothes, yes," she chuckled, "shoes, yes. But it's only been recently that I've begun to accumulate... things, and other than baseball paraphernalia I don't tend to have a lot. I suppose that's what happens when one doesn't really have a home to keep them in until one is in their late thirties. My point being, I like it when people give me things I wouldn't think to buy for myself."

"I didn't keep much, myself," Jean admitted. "Never knew when I'd be off on a mission. I wanted to pack light. I had a few mementos but I always hated having to move a lot of stuff. Still, it was nice to have something to come home to."

"Where'd you go on missions?" Adrienne inquired curiously.

"Before M-Day? Nearly everywhere. Europe, Egypt, Australia....Back then the mutant underground network was pretty extensive. We'd get in a call from someone with a lead and depending on the situation we'd send out a larger group or just a couple people. Most of the time it was fly-by-night smuggling, trying to make sure the person was safe from point A to point B. We'd make the arrangements and then do the pick up ourselves, working with the underground contact if necessary to make the pickup. Depending on the mission it required some undercover aliases and disguises. Very James Bond, except without the Bond Girls. Sometimes we'd rescue kids, sometimes adults. Every operation was pretty delicate. We had precious cargo. And sometimes the cargo didn't want to cooperate for a variety of reasons...fear, teenage rebellion, stubbornness," she said with a laugh.

"I primarily worked out of Europe, but I also visited South America a few times with Angelo, and the Middle East with Sooraya when there were language barriers to overcome. Europe still had its challenges for that too. Usually we had a translator along just in case if the person didn't speak any English what so ever."

"Huh, that sounds a lot like what X-Factor wants to do," Adrienne mused, giving their wine order to the waiter. "If you ever want to quit Claremont, you should come be a detective with us," she suggested with a grin.

Jean smirked. "I'll keep that in mind. I'd be glad to help out on any cases if needed. I still have quite a few mutant underground contacts. Do I get to wear a fedora and a trenchcoat? Because I look fantastic in those."

"Excellent. Remind me to do the whole 'official' meeting thing with you to talk about underground contacts," Adrienne smirked, "on a night where I'm not planning on drinking a five hundred dollar bottle of wine. And yeah, if you work with us, you have to wear a trenchcoat and fedora. It's our uniform. There's a uniform detector at the door that won't let you in unless you have a trenchcoat and a fedora on, and if you don't show up with them there's a dispensary in the machine that spits them out at you before it'll let you inside."

The mental image made Jean laugh. "As it should be," she said. The waiter returned with their wine, and Jean held up her glass.

"Well, here's looking at you kid."