Jean and Garrison, Thursday Evening (backdated)

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

While manning the comms, Jean and Garrison have a random conversation about food and stakeouts.



Jean sat at the wall of TVs, staring up at the various channels with all the enthusiasm of someone watching paint dry. She took a bite of her chocolate chip cookie, then rubbed her forehead.

"And this is why I could never be a cop. I'd get too bored at stakeouts," she said, offering him one of the cookies she'd brought with her.

"Everyone is bored at stakeouts. That's how it goes," Garrison said, taking a cookie. "Normally, we bring lots of nuts to eat."

"How does that help?" Jean mused with a smirk. "Or is just to keep you busy and full?"

"Just keeps you busy." Kane agreed. "If only it was the old days, where we could drink on the job."

Jean quirked a brow. "How long ago was that? Doesn't seem too safe, regardless," she said, tearing off another bite of cookie. She was already on her third one. Perhaps it was not the best idea to bring the entire batch of cookies one of her patients, Mrs. Swenson, baked for her to comms duty.

"I'm a Fed. We normally make the beats do the stakeouts."

"But you did say 'we,'" Jean said, eyeing a Fox News report about the 'Mutant Contagion' with annoyance before glancing back to him.

"So you have done it before, though?"

"Many times. The worst was in Vancouver. Seventeen hours in one stretch. Only food we could get was the noodle shop beside us. That much tea made a revolving door to piss in the alley."

"And a temporary dislike of noodles, I take it?" Jean said with a laugh.

"And I thought the night shift in the ER was rough. At least we can move around when the crazy happens."

"A dislike of noodles is impossible. If I had noodles right here and right now, you'd need to leave the room." Kane sighed, lacing his fingers behind his head. "This is about grinding it out."

Jean was midway through taking a sip of her drink when he spoke and she immediately started to cough.

"What?"

"You're too easy to tease." Kane said casually, tapping another couple of buttons. "There's some epic noodle places in the city."

"Hey, it's not my fault that that sounded insanely dirty. You did that one all on your own," Jean said, smirking.

"And I've heard of a few good shops. There's one right down the block from where I work."

"I know. I don't work that far from you, you know." He gave her a wry look.

Jean laughed. "Really? You haven't needed to come to my work and there are federal agent offices all over the city so that's a surprise to me. I'm also surprised I haven't seen you around, but then again its hard to leave the ER sometimes so we usually live in the cafeteria or get something delivered," she said.

"Yes, well, that's New York. Only city you can get a French bistro meal delivered at five am."

Pausing, Jean's stomach started to rumble at the thought.

"You had to say it."

"What, you're now craving crepes?"

Jean grinned, resting her chin in her hand. "Oui."

"You know, if we can convince Kurt to come in an hour early, we can totally be back in town to get those."

Leaning back in her chair. Jean contemplated Garrison's suggestion. "I like the way you think," she said.

"Good plan."

Kane typed some things into his phone and waited. After a moment, it buzzed. "Okay, Jubilee isn't home tonight. He'll be here in ten. So, you ready for the pear martinis and the Kroenburgs?"

Jean quirked a brow. "What is a Kroenburg?"

"France's only good beer." He said. "You'll learn. I hope you don't have plans for tomorrow."

"You mean besides nursing a hangover? My calendar is free," Jean said with a smirk.

"I will hold you to that." Kane grinned. "Last one to order escargot pays the bill!"