Scott and Jean: Driven (Backdated)

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott helps Jean buy a new car while she distracts him from the party preparations.

The sign was garish, <i>Klown Kars</i> it proclaimed in primary colors, with a picture of a clown waving at the would be buyer while riding in his own gleaming red car. Underneath the picture it also tried to assure those who ventured onto the lot that <i>Our Low Prices Are No Joke!</i>

Squinting at the sign, Jean had to do a double take. "This should be good," she said, letting out a laugh as she glanced over the clipboard she'd brought with her to write down potential choices.

"The website did say they sell classic cars, right? Or was it the other one?"

They were all starting to blur together.

"You know, I don't even remember anymore," Scott admitted, glancing up at the sign with trepidation, "But you never know what they might have lying around the lot I guess, diamonds in the rough have been found in weirder locations."

Jean eyed the beige Fort Pinto in the corner, then slowly nodded. "Exactly. Optimism is good. Positive thinking...." she said, inching closer to examine the variety of cars they had.

"I'm still not sure what I want yet but I'm hoping it'll leap out at me."

"Just don't tell Logan or Wade I came to a lot called Klown Kars, please. I don't think either of them would let me live it down. The X-man shook his head and glanced at the selection on offer, "That's often the way it is with cars, one will just grab you while another just as good one will turn you off for no real reason."

Peering into one of the cars, Jean paused, then glanced over at him with a smirk. "So car buying is a lot like dating, then. You shop around, then once you find one you might like you take a test drive to see if you want to keep it or not."

Scott laughed, "A little bit yeah," he tapped the hood of a nearby car, "and you don't want to just go for the one that looks good either. What's under the hood, now that counts for a lot more than the outsides of the car."

"You have to look at the whole package. Got it," Jean mused, inching up to a gold car in the corner.

"Whichever one I pick I'll probably need to paint. I'm tempted to go red."

"Isn't that just a little bit cliche?" Scott teased with a smirk, "Besides, he looked down at the gold car with a blank look, "Who could argue with a golden colour scheme like this?" he asked completely deadpan.

Slowly nodding, Jean laughed. "Mmmhmm. I'll just slap on some bell bottoms and tease my hair up Farrah Fawcett style and I'll be good to go," she said with a grin.

"And as far red goes, generally people are afraid to pick it from what I hear. Don't police officers give more tickets to red cars? But since I have a perfect driving record...and the ability to make people forget I was even there I'll be fine." It was her turn to seem completely serious.

"Ah, the good old 'these are not the droids you're looking for' trick. There are times I wish I had that when I was younger, or even today," Scott admitted, "On the other hand, the cops can't do anything to catch you when they can't even keep up with you." he noted, still keeping his face level.

Jean grinned, folding her arms with a nod of agreement. "Precisely. Though it'd be nice if one of the tech nerds could throw in some booster rockets for an airborne getaway."

"Right, so we don't want to get you a classic car but one of those modern monstrosities, came Scott's deadpan answer as he swerved to nod at a Ford Focus, "I'm sure they could manage something with that." he noted with a grin.

Snorting, Jean waved the thought away. "Psh. I've seen James Bond. Booster rockets look 1,000 times cooler on a classic car," she said. She tilted her head with a wistful sigh.

"God I would love an Aston Martin. But since they generally cost more than a year of medical school I'll just have to keep dreaming.."

The glint of steel caught her eye from across the lot and Jean made her way over to another car: a 1968 Pontiac Firebird. It was a pumpkin orange color, but what impressed her the most was how the car looked.

"What about this one?"

"From sleek and sophisticated to American muscle, nice," Scott smirked as he walked around the Pontiac. "Looks to be in decent condition. No overt signs of rust or body damage, so that's a good sign. We won't know until we pop the hood and get a chance to examine the engine but seems like a pretty safe buy," Scott noted.

Jean let out a sigh of relief. "God, that'd be great. I'm really tired of looking. At least for today," she said. She smiled.

"Thanks for coming with me, by the way. I can handle myself against car salesmen but its always good to have someone who has an eye for the diamonds in the rough."

A loud voice suddenly erupted from the car dealership's main office, which resembled a brightly colored Barnum and Bailey circus car. Except this particular car had been in the sun for far too long and the colors had started to fade and crack to a dull pastel pink and yellow.

"I'm goin', I'm goin', ya bulbous eggplant! Can't a guy finish his damn lunch...."

Before they knew it the sound of circus music started to filter through mounted speakers all around the lot and the door burst open to the circus car. The first thing Jean glimpsed as she slowly looked up from the car was a clown making his way down the stairs in squeaky red shoes while munching on a carrot.

Pausing, Jean glanced over to Scott, then burst out laughing.

Scott blinked slowly, unsure if he should believe his ears, "I'm not sure I really want to know what a bulbous eggplant looks like," he noted to Jean a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Or the person who looks like one but really I've always thought that carrots were much more suspicious with their long pointiness and being bright orange. It's highly suspicious how much they looks like traffic cones I tell you."

Jean was still grinning from ear to ear, and had to bite her lip to try to get herself to stop. "I don't think I'd want to eat a traffic cone," she said, then froze, and immediately stifled a snicker before elbowing him.

"Quick, he's coming this way. Act natural."

All the grumpiness coming from the clown had disappeared once the clown saw potentially customers, and he bounded toward them.

"Wwwwelcome to Klown Karz! I'm Dropsy the Clown! I bring low prices down."

Jean glanced back to Scott helplessly, covering her mouth with a balled up fist. It was obvious she was going to lose it again.

"Hi Dropsy," Scott replied struggling to keep his face straight, "I..we.." Scott gave up trying to fight it and turned to the clown, "Ok, I've got to ask, what's with the outfit? Does everyone have to wear a clown costume here or did you do something to annoy your manager this morning?"

Dropsy took a moment, then adjusted his suspenders."At Klown Karz it's our business to make you smile!  Every member of the Klown Karz crew wears an outfit with style," he recited with the manufactured brightness of someone who had said the phrase a hundred times before, then took bite of his carrot.

"Something I can help you with?"

"Umm," for a second Scott had completely forgotten why they were there, "We're browsing for a car for my friend," he allowed, glad to be back on a safe topic, "And," he nodded at the Pontiac, "The fixer upper caught her eye as a project." He gestured Jean forward while he stepped back to give the car a more than cursory examination.

"Fixer upper? This baby is ready to go," Dropsy said, patting the car.

"We'd still like to look under the hood just to make sure, though. You understand, don't you Dropsy?" Jean said.

Dropsy peered at Jean, then looked back to Scott before shrugging.

About 45 minutes and a lot of haggling later, the two were finished. The car was hers, now came the actual work. Jean glanced to Scott as they made their way back to his car.

"Thanks for coming with me, by the way. I appreciate it."

"My pleasure," Scott smiled warmly, "There are few things better in life than the look on a used car salesman's face when you start in at him and he sees the price being carved down slice by slice."

Jean laughed. "Nothing like Dropsy's mouth dropping. Speaking of slices though....are you up for some pizza? Fat Tony's? I'm starving. Hard to believe we've been looking around long enough for it to be lunch time already."

"How time flies when you're making clowns cry," Scott noted with a smirk, "Cars and pizza, the makings of a perfect afternoon."