Jean and Kevin: Another Year Older (Backdated)

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Kevin takes Jean out for her birthday. Discussions about life choices are had.


"So, you're sure you're not a vegan, right?" Kevin said, fiddling with the button on his suit as he escorted her from the cab into the old restaurant he'd selected for her birthday.

Jean quirked a brow, then laughed. "Pretty sure. But if we're going to go kill something I'm definitely overdressed," she said, glancing down at the little black dress she'd thrown on for the occasion. It'd been a long, eventful shift all day at the hospital, so it was nice to unwind.

"Just checking. This place used to be owned by the Mob. They took vegans out back."

"And gave them a nice meal, or offed them? Because the latter sounds very rude," Jean said with a smirk as they took a seat at a table.

"Let's just say they were given the option of eating the fish or sleeping with them. The halibut special always had a sinister taste to it." Fiction, but it made her laugh. "So, Doc, how's business. Haven't seen much of you lately."

Leaning back in her chair, Jean adjusted her glasses. "People are very good at getting injured, so business is booming," she mused.

"Trouble is, mutants are afraid to come to the hospital, since everyone knows about it. I've been actually looking into a few...options to get around that."

"I thought that disclosing medical conditions was between the doctor and the patient?"

"Getting there's the problem, if you're not passing. People come to protest. If they see anyone with a hint of blue skin they try to shame them," Jean said, staring down at the menu with a disquieted look

"The ones that do pass, some are scared to come even then."

'That's a tough row to hoe, Red. I don't envy you." He flipped the menu. "But you need to find a way to separate yourself from that.'

Jean rested her chin in her hand. "Haven't we had this conversation before? I'm feeling a bit of deja vu."

"I'm pretty boring. This happens." Kevin said, waving over the waiter. "Have you had a Manhattan before?"

"We both know that's a ploy to throw unsuspecting targets off guard," Jean mused, then nodded.

"Once or twice. I prefer a Blood and Sand."

"Mixing scotch. And I had such hopes for you..." He said, but gamely ordered one for her and a martini for himself. "You know, you could always go old school. Let drop around some of the mutant-centric areas that you could do consultations out of office or at their home. It's not optimal, but for things like general examinations, you don't need the sterile environment or full equipment of the hospital, do you?"

"Don't blame me, blame Rudolph Valentino," she said. She was silent a moment.

"I was thinking of opening an underground clinic in District X. Somewhere off the books. Might make people want to come if they know no one knows about it."

"Be careful. There's still plenty of laws on the book that protect house calls. Opening shadow clinics... not so much."

"We run an illegal operation already. What's one more?" Jean said.

"Most mutants are hesitant to let someone into their homes that they barely know. Some of them don't have homes, they have sewers. I may not need a sterile environment, but it's a damn good idea."

"Just be careful, Doc. I can think of more than a few good doctors that got taken down because they set down physical space for things like abortion back in the fifties and sixties. For the right anti-mutant prosecutor with dreams of higher office, the idea of an illegal clinic that treats 'criminal' mutants is a sure fire step to statewide office."

Jean shook her head. "And there are mutants who die every year because they're afraid to go see a doctor because they might be found out. I have to take that risk. My purpose is to save lives. If that lands me in jail, so be it."

"So, I'm not going to convince you to take the safer route, am I?" Kevin shook his head. "I totally understand. I do. But, before you jump in, let me know your plans. I might know a thing or two about conducting an operation under the radar and without police involvement."

Resting her chin in her hand again, Jean smirked. "Nope, Grey's are pretty stubborn when they put their minds to something," she said.

"And I'd definitely welcome the shady input."

"That I can do." Their drinks arrived and they paused to wait for the waiter to leave. "So, what's your birthday wish, Grey?"

Jean smiled wryly. "You know I can't tell you that. Won't come true."

"That's only when there's a candle involved. Otherwise, you get to talk about it without penalty."

"Don't tell me. You were there when they invented birthday wishes?" Jean mused.

"Yes. It was me, Moses and a T.Rex. He was a pain, to be honest. He wanted to substitute the candle for biting someone's head off."

"Let me guess, that's why he didn't make it on the ark?" Jean said with a laugh, taking a sip of her cocktail.

"You don't know what you're missing with this one."

"No, it was Moses doing the biting. Pain, that guy." Kevin took an olive from his martini and chewed it with relish. "And I've drank all the drinks, Red. All of them. Sometimes in a row. But, you're deflecting. Seriously, nothing you want for your birthday? Nothing you're hoping for?"

Jean was silent a few moments, thoughtful.

"The new clinic...it's all I've been thinking about. Something happened a few months ago, in one of the student's minds...a psychic...disturbance. Opened me up to feeling a lot of negative emotions. I suppose I want to find a way to bring balance to that. So I can feel like I made a difference. That I made people happy."

"I remember when people used to want stuff for their birthday." Kevin leaned back, a wry smile on his face. "I can't promise anything, Red, But I'll help where I can."

Jean smiled. "Thanks, I really appreciate it," she said, taking another sip of her cocktail.

"If you really want to get me something tangible though...I'm a big fan of tea and Indiana Jones. Do with it what you will."

"Snakes named Earl Grey? I know a guy..."

Jean squinted, then smirked. "Not that, anything but that," she said, then put her hand to her heart dramatically.

"Snakes? Why did it have to be snakes?"

"Because the Ark is a bit too expensive for me."

"Not sure if I want something that will melt people's faces off as my coffee table anyway," Jean said with a laugh.

"Not that it wouldn't look awfully pretty. A fedora, maybe?"

"I can. Although, do you have a decent long coat right now?"

Jean nodded. "I've got a green one that I've had for a few years. It's my favorite one," she said. She studied him. "I'm happy with something small, though."

"In my experience, most women who say that are lying." He said but ducked his head. "Let me at least get you a proper hat."

Cocking her head to the side, Jean looked intrigued. "You're awfully brave saying that around a telepath AND a telekinetic..." she said, tossing a napkin at him.

"Sure. I really don't need anything but I get the feeling you'd insist."

"I'm pretty sure the last place you want to be after a drink is my mind, Jean. You'd risk enjoying it too much." He said, as their mains arrived. "And I would. I'm old enough to at least be able to demand prerogative with a straight face."

Jean quirked a brow. "You're awfully self-assured. Might want to see to that," she said, picking up a fork.

"What do you mean by demanding prerogative?"

"The day you want to see it, let me know. I just don't know how well it will fit into your world views. And by my prerogative, I mean my... what, privilege as an old white guy who still thinks that pretty women deserve a present of some kind."

"Just pretty women?" she said, taking a bite of her meal.

"And I'm okay with the mental looksee. I'd rather keep stay on the surface." The mind was sacred. Even if she joked about it, it was just a joke.

"I'm old. All women are pretty. You just need to look at them the right way to see it."

"Good answer," Jean said with a smirk.

"So what are you up to other than hitting on me?"

"You ask like that isn't a full time job." His smile turned a little dark. "You don't want to know. Lots of things to expand and optimize our network. It sometimes is a bit unpleasant."

"You're right. I don't want to know," she said, dabbing her lips with her napkin. "Surely there are other things you do than that. Hobbies? Like crochet or beekeeping."

"Ah, you think there's depth here. I'm a deeply boring man. I read books. I watch football. Dom helps me set up my television, so I watch the first five minutes of a lot of gay porn because she thinks it's funny. I drink at places where I look like the youngest person there and am the oldest."

Jean shook her head. "Another thing you're right on. That's very boring and needs to be fixed. World's full of all sorts of things to experience."

"That's the problem. I've done most of them. So I'm left with the New York Jets and 'Two By Two'."

"And when did you last do that?" Jean said. "Things change all the time. We have this thing called 'the Internet' now."

"You miss the point. I like this. Age gives you the perspective of the new. And it is usually the same thing, done again."

Jean held up her hands. "Alright, alright. I know when I'm kicking a dead horse. Enjoy your learned perspective," she said, grabbing a bit of bread.

"This is the woman whose best present idea is a hat?"

"Did I say it was the best present? No, but it's damn cool. And if I said something outlandish like an emerald necklace you'd probably get it for me. Lavishness isn't for me."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning to steal. But if you're uncomfortable, I can back off."

Jean shook her head. "Nah, it's fine. It just...reminds me of Warren. I don't like the idea that I could be bought. Even if I'm not. Makes it sound like I could be disposed of." Like I was. she thought idly. But Warren usually thought of his women as disposable, so there was no real stretch there. It was just his nature.

"I apologize. I never meant you to feel that way. It's more..." Kevin paused. "In my day, it wasn't about buying a woman. It was showing what you thought about her."

Jean nodded in understanding. "Life's a little different now. Or maybe it's just me. I guess I tend to gravitate toward a certain type of person. The strong personality type. Unfortunately it hasn't turned out so well so far."

"That's fair. I don't want you to feel obligated. But, there are some steaks coming." He said. "I don't want to be a certain type of person. But I do think I can buy you a steak."

Quirking a brow, Jean looked down at her chicken, then back up with a laugh. "How big do you think my stomach is?" she said, then shook her head.

"I'm kidding. It's a nice gesture."

"When I was a kid, this was what you did before asking someone to marry you." Kevin took a sip from his drink and mentioned for a wine list. "It's hard figuring out how to make things special for someone without offending them."

It was Jean's turn to nearly choke on her drink, and she laughed. "Wow. So what did you do on someone's birthday then back in the day?"

"With single lady friends? Wasn't something that happened much." He said. "Most of my generation got married just after high school or once they got out of the service. So you did birthdays as dinner parties with couples. When you went out with a young single woman, it was pretty much a date by default."

Jean smiled. "Times have changed then, haven't they?" she said, resting her chin in her hand.

"Sometimes I think of what life might've been life in the 60s...Being a woman and a doctor would've been almost unheard of, or at least very rare. Not sure if I would've liked living back then."

"Uncommon but not rare. Especially by the 60s. Lots of ladies who served ended upgrading, going back to school." He rubbed his temple for a moment. "You right now, no. But you were raised in a different environment. A different set of expectations. It was far from being a better time, but it wasn't bleak either. We had fun. Most lived good lives."

Jean smiled. "I'm sure you did. But to go from now, to back then, having lived the life I live now...It'd certainly be a change."

"That is putting it lightly." Kevin agreed.