Jean and Garrison: Snow Problems
Feb. 12th, 2022 12:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logs Jean and Garrison have a talk at Harry's and go on an excursion.
Harry's Hideaway had been around so long one might have been inclined to think the rest of the countryside had sprung up around it.
It smelled of beer and billiards chalk and greasy bar food. There were regulars that came in every night, to the point where if they weren't there something was wrong. While their seats didn't have name tags, hang around long enough and you'd know who was whose.
"Harry said you were here," she said. She had worn a black duster pea coat with boots that quietly echoed across the wooden bar floor.
Kane looked up from his pint. "Hey Doc.I thought I'd drop in... let Harry know I'm not dead. He seemed pretty nonplussed to be honest."
"You still owe him money. You're not allowed to die until you pay your tab." Briar said as she walked past, passing along a drink for Jean next to Kane's at the bar.
Giving Briar a nod of thanks, Jean sat down beside Garrison. "I've always suspected Harry might be immortal anyway," she said. She looked down at her drink: a rum and coke, the bubbles fizzing and popping as they made their way up to the top of the glass. Somehow he always knew what they wanted to drink.
For a moment she sat in silence. Thoughts and emotions swirled around her mind.
"I read what you wrote," she said finally. "It's a lot."
Kane's eyes drifted back to his drink. "Well, kind of a lot happened. I felt people deserved to know the whole story... well, the parts of the story they needed to know."
"That's not entirely what I meant," Jean said, then took a sip of her drink, watching a bead of condensation trail down the glass as she sat it back down on the coaster.
"I'm sorry for what you went through."
"I appreciate that. Unfortunately, not a lot of options, eh?" His eyes flickered to the game on the television over the bar for a moment and then drifted back down to the glass. "You want to hear something stupid? While all this shit was happening, the thing I wished for most - that didn't involve Adrienne, obviously - was to be right here. Sipping a pint. Watching a game. Like, I don't know... like normal."
Jean ran her finger along the rim of her glass as the roar of the crowd erupted from the TV at the result of a winning point.
"Wanting normalcy, comfort, and love is not a bad thing. Especially more so during hard times."
She took a sip of her drink, glancing over.
"I don't think that's stupid, At least you're out," she said with a slight smile. "I hid in my suite for a few weeks after."
"You know the only reason I bounced back quickly? I've been through worse. I'll trade you." Garrison said. "What we went through was garbage. No one deserves that. ever. And whatever we need to get through it is justified."
His hand shook a touch as he took a drink. "But we're all out. And what we do is about making sure no one else has to go through it."
Jean's attention lingered on his hand for a moment before looking back to the game. "I feel like taking a walk. Want to go?" she said.
"Not what I was expecting but sure." Kane took a sip. "Lead the way."
Leaving a $100 on the counter to cover both their tabs (for the night, hopefully), Jean stood up. "See you later, Briar," she said, giving her a wave.
The snow crunched under Jean's feet and her breath misted in the air as they left the bar and started walking down the road. The moon shone brightly overhead, making the snow glisten. Most of the trees were bare from the winter chill but the conifers that weren't were laden with white. Old, hand-built fences mixed with rock walls lined the streets that were a mixture of residential and rural.
"Did you and Victoria ever get to spend a lot of time outside in the snow as kids?"
"I'm from Toronto. If I didn't spend time in the snow, it meant not going outside for five months of the year." Kane said. "We lived in Parkside, so we'd go across the street into High Park and spend the day running around there in the winter."
Jean smiled. "My sister and I did too. Before the move to Europe," she said. They turned down an almost hidden street masked behind a wall of trees. At this hour no one was really out and about except people coming home from places they had been. There was hardly any wind, and the only sound that came was their voices, their footsteps, and the occasional breath. Down the street was pure farmland. With the crops not growing for the winter and the animals huddled in barns for warmth, the countryside beyond the fences was almost like sand dunes of white snow.
It was hard to tell what lay at the end of the street, as they seemed to climb a slight hill.
"There was a place we'd always used to go when it got cold enough. A few years ago I found a similar place here. Figured I'd show it to you."
"Taking me to a cow paddock in the middle of the night certainly doesn't have a sinister vibe to it at all..." He muttered.
"Gasp. Oh no, you've discovered my evil plan," Jean said with a smirk. "Just wait and see."
At the top of the hill was a clear view of almost the rest of the county with lights twinkling in the distance. Near the bottom was a frozen lake, complete with a skate rental stand and a couple of vendor stands that normally sold food and hot drinks. Given the hour, however, everything was shuttered.
"That orange light, way over there?" Jean pointed east of the lake. "That's the mansion."
"It is. It's as distant and obscured as your plan here, Doc."
Jean paused for a moment. "I was thinking about ice skating," she said finally.
"Or we can walk back if you're not up for it." Her plan didn't seem to be working as well as she hoped. It probably wasn't a good time.
"You want to break into a skate shop and trespass on their ice? Doc Grey, this is a new look for you. Are you hiding new tattoos and some kind of saucy band shirt under there that you haven't told me about?" He joked, although it was a light jab, closer to what their old banter had been.
"Sadly no," Jean said with a light smirk. She pulled a set of keys out of her pocket and gave them a jingle. "Mr. Roberts, the skate shop owner, is one of my patients. He let me borrow these. Figured you could use an excuse to get out of your head.``
"You couldn't have at least lied to me about a tattoo? Spoilsport." He said, blowing out a plume of frosty air. "I've been using beer to get out of my head, but I'm happy to strap on some skates."
"I haven't been in awhile so there might be a learning curve," Jean admitted as she made her way down the hill toward the skate rental stand. "And I wouldn't lie about tattoos. Band shirts, however..."
"Don't worry. I'll teach you. So did you have skating lessons as a kid. Figure skating?"
Jean laughed. "If you count your sister trying to drag you out on the ice when you were five as 'lessons,' then yes."
"Good. No bad habits." He said as she opened up the skate shop. He tapped the black hockey skates. "I'd suggest these. You want the ankle support and not to be lured in by the awful sin that is the toe pick."
"Toe pick?" Jean asked curiously, taking the skates he suggested as she waited for him to select his own.
"It's a figure skate feature designed to make young women not play hockey." He said, grabbing a pair of skates his size and quickly swapping out his shoes.
"I know all of those words separately, but not together. What does that mean?" Jean said as she sat on one of the benches and changed into the skates. Pulling herself to her feet, she brought her hands out to balance herself as she tried to adjust to the balance of the blade on the banks of the lake.
"Here. It's easy. Spread out your feet. Think of your body as a platform." He said, moving easily in his skates backwards so he was facing her. "You stabilize on two rails."
Jean squinted at him skeptically. "Platforms and rails. O--okay," she said, furrowing her brow as she brought one foot out a little further and tried not to wobble like a newborn colt. "Like this?"
"If you want to fall on your lovely ass. Here, take my hand." He threaded his fingers in hers and started to skate backwards. "Get used to the flow of ice under your feet."
Jean teetered a little, trying not to clutch Garrison's hand too tightly as she followed. "Easy for you to say," she said with a laugh. "I do not remember this being so difficult. And yet you seem to be part Wayne Gretzky."
"I've met Wayne a few times. I'm absolutely not him." Kane said with a smile. "Use your TK to stabilize yourself, Doc."
"But that would be..." Jean wobbled again, but steadied herself and let out a relieved laugh. "...cheating, Mr. Kane. I am going to learn this without powers, thank you. I like a challenge."
She drew in a breath. "Okay...let go...and uh...skate back a couple yards? I'll try to skate to you."
"Jean, I can hit a baseball two kilometers. Don't run away from your powers." Kane said, although he pushed back as she asked.
Jean stopped still on the ice once he let go. "I'm not," she assured him with a soft smile. Holding out her hand, a small phoenix sprang to life from her palm, unfurling its wings as if waking from a nap. It flew around in a couple of lazy circles around her before coming back to roost on her hand and disappearing in tendrils of smoke.
"I think of it as a training exercise. If somehow I didn't have my powers...what would I have left but myself? Telekinesis can help but it doesn't take away the fear. Only I can do that. At some point I'd need to drop it to skate on my own. Why not earlier?"
She smirked. "Besides, much easier to do with you than trying to escape from a giant snow monster or something."
"You say that now, but later, when you're blaming me for ass bruises, you will have regret." Kane said. "Alright, Dummy lessons. Centre your weight on your left foot, and push off and back on your right. Then bring the right foot forward, rebalance your weight, and push off with your left. The skate is wider than you think and the rigid boot will help keep you up."
Listening intently, Jean nodded. "Okay...." she said, carefully mirroring what he said. A flare of unease at having nothing to grab onto came up but she tried to shove it back down as she slowly shuffled her way toward him.
"I am not feeling very Elsa."
"I started ice skating at three. It takes time." Kane said, moving easily backwards on his skates, staying a few paces in front of her. "Concentrate on a smooth transition, and let the blade do the work."
Jean laughed. "Three? Oh. Now I picture little Garrison scooting around in tiny baby skates," she said, drawing in a deep breath and then falling silent as she tried to keep her attention on the feeling of the ice under the blades.
"Okay...okay. This is...not so bad."
"It's a natural motion once you get used to it. When you want to turn, angle towards the way you want to go and lean into it."
Nodding, Jean let herself get used to gliding along the surface, but as she went to turn she turned a little too hard to the left and felt the skates slip out from underneath her.
"Ahh--!"
"Ass bruises." Kane said as she hit the ice hard on her rear. "I should point out, learning to skate means falling a lot."
Jean laid on the ice looking up at the stars. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," she said, sitting up with a groan. "Are you going to help me up?"
"I was holding out for you to ask me to rub it better." He joked, although she noticed the joke never reached his eyes, more reflexive. He held out his hand for her.
"When has that ever sounded like me?" Jean said with a light smile. Taking his hand, she got to her feet and tried to steady herself. Her attention flickered toward him
"How are you holding up?" she said quietly.
"Badly. Epicly so." He said, the same shuttering she'd seen keen and on display. "But here I am."
Jean looked down. The quiet rustle of wind against bare trees and the occasional inhale and mist of breath filled the silence. "I think that's all we can do sometimes," she said. She started to put her hand on his arm but wasn't sure if he was up for it. "And even if you're not 'here,' that's okay. No one expects you to be completely unscathed."
"I hope so. Otherwise, they are in for a surprise." He kept trying to joke. "Come on Doc. Let's see us get you around the ice at least once on your own."
Harry's Hideaway had been around so long one might have been inclined to think the rest of the countryside had sprung up around it.
It smelled of beer and billiards chalk and greasy bar food. There were regulars that came in every night, to the point where if they weren't there something was wrong. While their seats didn't have name tags, hang around long enough and you'd know who was whose.
"Harry said you were here," she said. She had worn a black duster pea coat with boots that quietly echoed across the wooden bar floor.
Kane looked up from his pint. "Hey Doc.I thought I'd drop in... let Harry know I'm not dead. He seemed pretty nonplussed to be honest."
"You still owe him money. You're not allowed to die until you pay your tab." Briar said as she walked past, passing along a drink for Jean next to Kane's at the bar.
Giving Briar a nod of thanks, Jean sat down beside Garrison. "I've always suspected Harry might be immortal anyway," she said. She looked down at her drink: a rum and coke, the bubbles fizzing and popping as they made their way up to the top of the glass. Somehow he always knew what they wanted to drink.
For a moment she sat in silence. Thoughts and emotions swirled around her mind.
"I read what you wrote," she said finally. "It's a lot."
Kane's eyes drifted back to his drink. "Well, kind of a lot happened. I felt people deserved to know the whole story... well, the parts of the story they needed to know."
"That's not entirely what I meant," Jean said, then took a sip of her drink, watching a bead of condensation trail down the glass as she sat it back down on the coaster.
"I'm sorry for what you went through."
"I appreciate that. Unfortunately, not a lot of options, eh?" His eyes flickered to the game on the television over the bar for a moment and then drifted back down to the glass. "You want to hear something stupid? While all this shit was happening, the thing I wished for most - that didn't involve Adrienne, obviously - was to be right here. Sipping a pint. Watching a game. Like, I don't know... like normal."
Jean ran her finger along the rim of her glass as the roar of the crowd erupted from the TV at the result of a winning point.
"Wanting normalcy, comfort, and love is not a bad thing. Especially more so during hard times."
She took a sip of her drink, glancing over.
"I don't think that's stupid, At least you're out," she said with a slight smile. "I hid in my suite for a few weeks after."
"You know the only reason I bounced back quickly? I've been through worse. I'll trade you." Garrison said. "What we went through was garbage. No one deserves that. ever. And whatever we need to get through it is justified."
His hand shook a touch as he took a drink. "But we're all out. And what we do is about making sure no one else has to go through it."
Jean's attention lingered on his hand for a moment before looking back to the game. "I feel like taking a walk. Want to go?" she said.
"Not what I was expecting but sure." Kane took a sip. "Lead the way."
Leaving a $100 on the counter to cover both their tabs (for the night, hopefully), Jean stood up. "See you later, Briar," she said, giving her a wave.
The snow crunched under Jean's feet and her breath misted in the air as they left the bar and started walking down the road. The moon shone brightly overhead, making the snow glisten. Most of the trees were bare from the winter chill but the conifers that weren't were laden with white. Old, hand-built fences mixed with rock walls lined the streets that were a mixture of residential and rural.
"Did you and Victoria ever get to spend a lot of time outside in the snow as kids?"
"I'm from Toronto. If I didn't spend time in the snow, it meant not going outside for five months of the year." Kane said. "We lived in Parkside, so we'd go across the street into High Park and spend the day running around there in the winter."
Jean smiled. "My sister and I did too. Before the move to Europe," she said. They turned down an almost hidden street masked behind a wall of trees. At this hour no one was really out and about except people coming home from places they had been. There was hardly any wind, and the only sound that came was their voices, their footsteps, and the occasional breath. Down the street was pure farmland. With the crops not growing for the winter and the animals huddled in barns for warmth, the countryside beyond the fences was almost like sand dunes of white snow.
It was hard to tell what lay at the end of the street, as they seemed to climb a slight hill.
"There was a place we'd always used to go when it got cold enough. A few years ago I found a similar place here. Figured I'd show it to you."
"Taking me to a cow paddock in the middle of the night certainly doesn't have a sinister vibe to it at all..." He muttered.
"Gasp. Oh no, you've discovered my evil plan," Jean said with a smirk. "Just wait and see."
At the top of the hill was a clear view of almost the rest of the county with lights twinkling in the distance. Near the bottom was a frozen lake, complete with a skate rental stand and a couple of vendor stands that normally sold food and hot drinks. Given the hour, however, everything was shuttered.
"That orange light, way over there?" Jean pointed east of the lake. "That's the mansion."
"It is. It's as distant and obscured as your plan here, Doc."
Jean paused for a moment. "I was thinking about ice skating," she said finally.
"Or we can walk back if you're not up for it." Her plan didn't seem to be working as well as she hoped. It probably wasn't a good time.
"You want to break into a skate shop and trespass on their ice? Doc Grey, this is a new look for you. Are you hiding new tattoos and some kind of saucy band shirt under there that you haven't told me about?" He joked, although it was a light jab, closer to what their old banter had been.
"Sadly no," Jean said with a light smirk. She pulled a set of keys out of her pocket and gave them a jingle. "Mr. Roberts, the skate shop owner, is one of my patients. He let me borrow these. Figured you could use an excuse to get out of your head.``
"You couldn't have at least lied to me about a tattoo? Spoilsport." He said, blowing out a plume of frosty air. "I've been using beer to get out of my head, but I'm happy to strap on some skates."
"I haven't been in awhile so there might be a learning curve," Jean admitted as she made her way down the hill toward the skate rental stand. "And I wouldn't lie about tattoos. Band shirts, however..."
"Don't worry. I'll teach you. So did you have skating lessons as a kid. Figure skating?"
Jean laughed. "If you count your sister trying to drag you out on the ice when you were five as 'lessons,' then yes."
"Good. No bad habits." He said as she opened up the skate shop. He tapped the black hockey skates. "I'd suggest these. You want the ankle support and not to be lured in by the awful sin that is the toe pick."
"Toe pick?" Jean asked curiously, taking the skates he suggested as she waited for him to select his own.
"It's a figure skate feature designed to make young women not play hockey." He said, grabbing a pair of skates his size and quickly swapping out his shoes.
"I know all of those words separately, but not together. What does that mean?" Jean said as she sat on one of the benches and changed into the skates. Pulling herself to her feet, she brought her hands out to balance herself as she tried to adjust to the balance of the blade on the banks of the lake.
"Here. It's easy. Spread out your feet. Think of your body as a platform." He said, moving easily in his skates backwards so he was facing her. "You stabilize on two rails."
Jean squinted at him skeptically. "Platforms and rails. O--okay," she said, furrowing her brow as she brought one foot out a little further and tried not to wobble like a newborn colt. "Like this?"
"If you want to fall on your lovely ass. Here, take my hand." He threaded his fingers in hers and started to skate backwards. "Get used to the flow of ice under your feet."
Jean teetered a little, trying not to clutch Garrison's hand too tightly as she followed. "Easy for you to say," she said with a laugh. "I do not remember this being so difficult. And yet you seem to be part Wayne Gretzky."
"I've met Wayne a few times. I'm absolutely not him." Kane said with a smile. "Use your TK to stabilize yourself, Doc."
"But that would be..." Jean wobbled again, but steadied herself and let out a relieved laugh. "...cheating, Mr. Kane. I am going to learn this without powers, thank you. I like a challenge."
She drew in a breath. "Okay...let go...and uh...skate back a couple yards? I'll try to skate to you."
"Jean, I can hit a baseball two kilometers. Don't run away from your powers." Kane said, although he pushed back as she asked.
Jean stopped still on the ice once he let go. "I'm not," she assured him with a soft smile. Holding out her hand, a small phoenix sprang to life from her palm, unfurling its wings as if waking from a nap. It flew around in a couple of lazy circles around her before coming back to roost on her hand and disappearing in tendrils of smoke.
"I think of it as a training exercise. If somehow I didn't have my powers...what would I have left but myself? Telekinesis can help but it doesn't take away the fear. Only I can do that. At some point I'd need to drop it to skate on my own. Why not earlier?"
She smirked. "Besides, much easier to do with you than trying to escape from a giant snow monster or something."
"You say that now, but later, when you're blaming me for ass bruises, you will have regret." Kane said. "Alright, Dummy lessons. Centre your weight on your left foot, and push off and back on your right. Then bring the right foot forward, rebalance your weight, and push off with your left. The skate is wider than you think and the rigid boot will help keep you up."
Listening intently, Jean nodded. "Okay...." she said, carefully mirroring what he said. A flare of unease at having nothing to grab onto came up but she tried to shove it back down as she slowly shuffled her way toward him.
"I am not feeling very Elsa."
"I started ice skating at three. It takes time." Kane said, moving easily backwards on his skates, staying a few paces in front of her. "Concentrate on a smooth transition, and let the blade do the work."
Jean laughed. "Three? Oh. Now I picture little Garrison scooting around in tiny baby skates," she said, drawing in a deep breath and then falling silent as she tried to keep her attention on the feeling of the ice under the blades.
"Okay...okay. This is...not so bad."
"It's a natural motion once you get used to it. When you want to turn, angle towards the way you want to go and lean into it."
Nodding, Jean let herself get used to gliding along the surface, but as she went to turn she turned a little too hard to the left and felt the skates slip out from underneath her.
"Ahh--!"
"Ass bruises." Kane said as she hit the ice hard on her rear. "I should point out, learning to skate means falling a lot."
Jean laid on the ice looking up at the stars. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," she said, sitting up with a groan. "Are you going to help me up?"
"I was holding out for you to ask me to rub it better." He joked, although she noticed the joke never reached his eyes, more reflexive. He held out his hand for her.
"When has that ever sounded like me?" Jean said with a light smile. Taking his hand, she got to her feet and tried to steady herself. Her attention flickered toward him
"How are you holding up?" she said quietly.
"Badly. Epicly so." He said, the same shuttering she'd seen keen and on display. "But here I am."
Jean looked down. The quiet rustle of wind against bare trees and the occasional inhale and mist of breath filled the silence. "I think that's all we can do sometimes," she said. She started to put her hand on his arm but wasn't sure if he was up for it. "And even if you're not 'here,' that's okay. No one expects you to be completely unscathed."
"I hope so. Otherwise, they are in for a surprise." He kept trying to joke. "Come on Doc. Let's see us get you around the ice at least once on your own."
