xp_logs | Jean & Garrison: Meet The Xaviers

Jean and Garrison get diverted due to car troubles and spend the night in a rather eccentric small town.

24 straight hours in a car. All for Everton Giles Warmouth. He had been a trusted member of the Mutant Underground, until he'd decided Magneto Was Right and started steering a couple of mutants towards the Brotherhood. Only to discover that the Brotherhood had weaponized them and got them killed in mercenary deals in Africa. He'd called into his handlers, crying and apologizing, only to discover that the Brotherhood had discovered that too. With a target on his head, they agreed to get him out. Unfortunately, Warmouth was terrified of flying and teleportation, which had left them sticking him on a train to St. Louis. Kane and Jean had flown out to meet his train, and bundled him in a car to drive him to a safe house in Las Vegas that Snow Valley had given them. Warmouth would never be trusted again, but they couldn't let the Brotherhood execute him as a lesson. At the location, X-Force had promised he'd be thoroughly wrung for all the information he could give them before being quietly resettled somewhere else under a new name and identity.

Which is how they found themselves saying goodbye to a pretty young woman with the iridescent scales of a snake and a hulking grey skinned man after dropping him off at a place called 'The X-Ranch' according to the sign; a quiet day spa according to its website. They waved as they got into the car and headed away.

"OK, I have to say it. I think Snow Valley just had us drop that guy off at a brothel."

Jean smirked, slipping her sunglasses on. "Oh, absolutely," she said, checking her phone for any updates from the mansion.

"If it wasn't I was prepared to be surprised. Especially for something with Ranch in the title."

"To be fair, I think every third business we've driven by in the last hour has had 'ranch' in the title." Kane said, pulling back out onto the highway. "OK, so they don't want us using Harry Reid International to get back. Scott got a convenient stealth friendly airport option for a pick up?"

"For all we know they could all be brothels," Jean mused, scanning the screen to find an answer to this question. She frowned.

"The Blackbird's under maintenance and I'd ask Clarice but she's tied up at work. Looks like we might be driving home."

"Oh, a two day drive. Just what I needed." Kane sighed. "I guess we aren't dropping off this rental in Vegas. I had dreams of shrimp cocktails and Celine Dion shows before a flight."

"The best you might get at this point is a stop at Red Lobster and a Celine Dion playlist," Jean mused.

"I haven't slept at a shady hotel since my last Mutant Underground trip. Must be a prerequisite."

"I've done 24 hours. I can do another 24, but I'm going to need some sleep after." Kane sighed, settling back in his seat. "Music is on you. I could use something upbeat."

Jean glanced up from her phone. "Just because we can do 24 hours, doesn't mean we should. If we find a nice hotel, I suggest we stop," she said. She scrolled through her music.

"I consider it reparations for the amount of times Everton thought of touching my ass."

Pressing play, the beginning chords of Chumbawumba's 'Tubthumping' filled the car.

"Based on that last comment, when we stop, you owe me a whiskey drink, a vodka drink, a cider drink, and a lager drink." He said, already getting set for a long haul. "So, tell me something, Doc Grey, girl as pretty as you, you get anyone in cinema history, who is your first date?"

"Indiana Jones, before the crystal skull movie," Jean said without skipping a beat. "Always had a thing for Harrison Ford." She glanced over with a smirk.

"You?"

"Good choice. Karen Allen was very close to the top choice for me. But I'm going with Carrie Ann Moss. I love me some Matrix."

"Skin tight leather ass kicking superheroine?" Jean nodded with a thoughtful hmm of agreement. "Can't go wrong there."

Tilting her head, she was silent for a moment. "Is this list only cinema or does television count?"

"We have two days in this car ahead of us. Baseball cards count at this point."

"Athletes were not on my list but I did enjoy the Tenth Doctor," Jean said, laughing.

She paused. "No wait...Rick O'Connell from the Mummy was second," she added, then squinted. "I'm sensing a small theme of tall, dark haired men with a thirst for adventure. And occasionally treasure hunting."

"I knew I should have taken archaeology instead of criminology and psychology. I chose to try and be Batman instead." Kane grinned, already falling into the rhythm of the drive.

Jean fell silent, not really knowing what to say because of what it implied. She glanced down to her phone, idly scrolling through her Twitter feed, but not really reading anything.

Finally, she started to speak,when a loud thud was heard, and smoke started spewing from the hood of the car. The smell of burnt something filled the cabin.

"Oh boy..." Kane was able to get the car over to the side of the road before the engine died. He got out and popped the hood, waving away the black smoke. "OK... well, I don't think it is on fire."

Climbing out after him, Jean hovered beside him. "Then what's making the smoke?" she said. She could fly the Blackbird and patch up a person, but her mechanical knowledge was relegated to fixing flats and changing the oil, both of which she hadn't done in quite some time.

"Whatever burnt out." He leaned over the engine, waving away the smoke, but it was pretty clear that whatever was wrong with the engine was beyond his limited mechanical knowledge. He stepped back and called into the rental company. After waiting on hold for ten minutes and tapping his foot, he finally got through and explained the situation. There were long pauses before Kane finally hung up.

"So, bad news and more bad news. There's a multi-car pileup about twenty miles up so most of the tow trucks in the area are going to be tied up there for the next few hours. When one gets free, it will tow it to the closest affiliated shop that they have. A town called Baker's Mark about five miles up. If they can't fix it quickly, they'll arrange a new rental, but it won't be ready before tomorrow morning at the earliest. Guy said there's a motel in the area. The company will pick up the cost."

Jean slowly nodded, absorbing the information. "Well there's that at least. So are you up for walking five miles in hopes there's a motel at some point or waiting for a tow for a few hours?"

"I can do five easy. After all-" He looked around to the scrub desert that surrounded the highway. "This isn't exactly the most interesting place to hang around."

The sun had already started to set, washing a brilliant orange light over the sand. Jean smirked. "Speak for yourself. This is everything I ever dreamed of. Vast empty dunes of nothingness? I'm practically riveted," she mused, grabbing her backpack and pulling it over her shoulders. Being an X-Man meant planning for emergencies, so she had enough clothing for a couple of days and a rudimentary first aid kit.

"If you'd rather wait for the tow, I'm fine with that too." Kane said, spreading his hands wide.

Jean laughed. "I'm kidding. Yes, I'd rather walk," she said, gently whacking him in the arm as she walked past. She paused a moment to adjust her backpack straps while staring out over the horizon. "We can picture looking for the Lost City of Hamunaptra," She pointed, half tempted to take them both on a flight. But she didn't want to risk any potential civilians being freaked out.

"What do you say, Mr. O'Connell?"

"See, the problem is that I'm more like the brother." He joked, waving her to take the lead as he followed behind her. "I like the Evie reference. Did you want to be a librarian before a doctor?"

"No, I wanted to be a space princess," Jean mused with a smirk. "When I was a kid I was obsessed with space. I loved Princess Leia, and I had glow in the dark stars all over my ceiling. My parents would buy me books about planets and asteroids and astronauts. But mainly I just wanted to go on adventures there and meet aliens." She shrugged.

"And then the thing with Annie happened and...I grew up a lot. Decided to come back down to Earth and help the people here."

"Fair enough. That was... the car accident, right? You told me about it, but... well, broad strokes." He shrugged. "You want to talk about it?"

Jean listened to the crunch of sand under her shoes on the asphalt as they walked. "It's not a conversational favorite but if you have questions I don't mind answering them."

"I don't need to. I'm happy to keep it to dumb movies if you're okay with it." Garrison said, thinking that he could make the next town in minutes but it would involve carrying Jean. "When I was a kid, I loved this film called 'Johnny Dangerously'. Michael Keaton. A gangster spoof."

Jean smirked. "Oh really? Was this before or after he did Batman?" she said.

"Long before. When I was a kid we had this movie channel... Superchoice. I guess it was cheap because they played it a lot. Weird Al was on the soundtrack."

"You had me at Weird Al. I'll have to add it to my watch list," Jean grinned. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead and she wiped it away. The sun was not terribly forgiving in the desert, even in Spring.

"I have more spare time now that I'm unemployed."

"You left the Claremont?" Kane said, legitimately shocked. He knew about her leave of absence but to make it permanent.

Jean paused, not realizing this was news to him. She then nodded. "I left a while ago. The place had already started to rot from the inside, even before the Purifiers showed up. It was when I was really low. And even when I got better it still made sense to stay gone. Reprioritize."

"Fair enough. Sorry, I think it happened when I was... out, you know." He made a vague gesture with his hands.

"It's okay," Jean said, looping her fingers in the belt loops as they walked. "It's not like I advertised it even when you got back."

She kicked a pebble further down the road, casting an eye toward the small hill that gently rose up to obscure the rest of the way.

"Are you back with the FBI?"

"Yes, finally. Fred decided to medical leave me instead of reporting me dead, so I had to follow a few regs and a long ass review period before I got medically cleared for full duty."

Jean was silent a moment or two, then glanced over. "How do you feel about that?"

Kane shrugged. "It's a hell of a lot easier than the last time I was declared dead. That was a mess to clear up... sorry, other world incident." He said. "Look, you know, if I piggyback you or something, I can get us into town in less than ten minutes. I can hit thirty-five miles an hour on a run."

Jean arched a brow at the 'other world incident' and started to speak when he quickly changed topics. "You mean you don't like baking like a lobster in the sun?" she mused.

"What if someone sees?"

"Desert. I can go a few blocks that way and kick up some sand." He said with a quick boyish grin.

Catching his eye, Jean shook her head, grinning back. "Alright," she relented.

"But if we encounter any roadrunners or coyotes, we've probably run too far."

"I have it on high authority that Acme is a multi-level marketing scheme." They walked away from the highway for a few minutes, getting largely out of sight before swinging her up onto his back. The strength behind his contact with her was a reminder just how different powers could make someone. Once she was securely settled, he gave a brief stretch and started to run.

And how. Her hair was blowing back as he left a plume of dust rising behind him and the wind whipping past her. It was like going down a steep hill on a bike and just letting it go as fast as you could.

Jean let out a laugh of exuberance as she held her arms out. It was different from flying, but an equal feeling of being carefree.

"Top of the world, doc?" Kane said with a grin, tossing the comment back to her.

Glancing down, Jean laughed again. "What gave it away?" she mused, closing her eyes.

"How do you not do this all the time?"

"When I commute like this, I get too many stares." He joked. "Actually, it's part of the whole super-physical package. You learn to slow down, rein things in, don't go all out so you don't seem to be so different."

"Sounds familiar," Jean said sympathetically. "At least I can hide in the clouds when I fly. But it's really hard to just do things normally. Telekinesis makes it easy to multitask."

"Lots of mine make things easier... or fun. But absolutely behind closed doors most of the time." Kane was starting to slow a bit, already seeing the collection of buildings the map charitably referred to as a town coming up.

"And that was...an hour without a sex joke. Must be a record," Jean smirked. "Hope this is the right place. It certainly looks creepy enough."

"That wasn't even a sex joke. People freak when you lift your car one handed to work on."

Jean paused.

"...Oh," she said easily, then added with amusement. "Nevermind."

Nodding toward the town. "We should probably look for a motel."

"OK, you know what I meant. Now you're the one being dirty." Kane said. "We should go to the garage first. If they have a rental available, we can be back on the road in a half hour. If not... well, then we get to experience the best of Baker's Mark."

Jean merely grinned innocently when he called her out, then nodded. "Fingers crossed this town doesn't look as inconveniently small as it seems. Perhaps that tumbleweed has directions?" she mumbled at the aforementioned tumbleweed blowing by.

"Hey, at least this place has a roadhouse so we're not stuck with McDonalds and a six pack if we're stuck." He took out his phone, looked around for a minute and pointed. "There we go. Big Earl's Auto. That's promising and not like a rural group that plans to eat us and sew our skins into replacement seat covers."

"See, now you just jinxed it. I'm going to let you fight Big Earl," Jean mused with another grin as she adjusted her backpack, scanning the little town. None of the buildings were new. They were settled and worn, with sun-bleached, cracked paint on window sills framing dusty windows. There was only one main street, with a low hanging traffic light and a tiny gas station that only had two places to fill up gas. A few cars ambled by, enough to show signs of life, but it wasn't exactly bustling.

It took a few minutes for them to walk to the garage, past the small grocery store and the even smaller post office. The sun continued to blaze unforgivably overhead

"Hello?" Jean called as they walked into the garage. The smell of grease and rubber hung in the air, and the radio played some modern pop music, which felt not quite right given how out of time the entire town seemed.

"Yeah, gimmie a sec!" A certainly not male voice with a drawl called out. After a couple of minutes, a woman about Jean's age emerged from the back, wiping her hands on a rag. "What can I do for you folks?"

"We had a rental die on us. The company said you might have a spare we could take while you collect and fix the one on the highway."

"Oh right, you're the Xaviers. Man, you got here quick. I talked to Paulie and he's not getting to your car for another couple of hours." She shook her head. "Don't have a rental right now. Got off the phone about twenty minutes ago. Holly is going to bring it by tomorrow morning. Best we can do unless you car just has a blown sparkplug or something."

"Figures." Kane sighed. "So in the morning?"

"Come by around eight. Should be able to get you two on the road fast."

"Thanks for all your help to get our car fixed. Can you tell us where the nearest motel is?" Jean said.

"There's the motel on the corner, but it's, well... It's a clown motel."

"We can do that."

Jean arched an eyebrow. "A CLOWN mot--"

She was cut off as an older woman in her 60s or 70s came in. Her cheeks were flush with the heat, and she wore a flower dress that would have been out of style anywhere else but fit right in there.

"Big Earl's got out again," she muttered.

The woman who had been helping them let out a sigh. "I don't have time to chase after him, ma. Paulie and I have got a bunch of cars to do."

"Who's Big Earl?" Jean said curiously.

"A horse," the older woman said. "He's a smart dumbass. Likes to open the horse gate and go running. If we don't get him after too long we may not find him for days. If that."

Jean glanced at Garrison, then back to the two women. "We could help."

"We can?" He said, looking at her. Based on her response, he shrugged. "I guess we can. Let's get Big Earl."

The older woman peered at them curiously. "That's awful kind of you but this area is pretty big and I'm guessin' you're not from around here."

Jean smiled. "That's okay ma'am. Garrison has experience with horses. He's a Canadian Mountie, after all. We'd be happy to do what we can."

At that, the older woman let out a sigh of relief. "We'd be ever so grateful. My knees just ain't like they used to be. I can show you where he got out on a map."

"Since you're helpin' us out...we can see about taking some of the cost from your bill dependin' on what it is," the woman added.

"Why do you keep volunteering me for things? I mean, without asking?" Kane said with a sigh. "I'll get him but ask first."

Jean smiled. "Because it helps people. C'mon, it'll be fun. You think I'd make you do this alone? No, I'm helping," she said, then turned to the older woman.

"What's your name?"

"Mabel," the older woman replied.

Jean extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mabel, I'm Jean. This is Garrison. Now, can you please show us where you last saw him?"

"He was down on the back forty." She met the blank stares. "Two doors north of the motel is the ranch. Area close in is scrub, so he's properly hoofing it towards the grazing pastures on the other side of the hill."

"Alright, I guess we have a hike ahead. Any issues us leaving our stuff here? I don't want to lug it further than I have to."

"Put it in the corner. I'll talk to Julie at the hotel and arrange a room for you while you're out."

They followed the road around and set off down a dirt track heading up the hills that had been described. "Because of course I'm chasing a horse down in rural... I don't even know what state this still is."

Jean laughed. "Nevada. I'd take this over fighting terrorists any day," she mused, then glanced around.

"Besides, we're far enough now...I could probably get away with an aerial pursuit."

"Go for it, but don't TK the horse when you find it. If he has a bad reaction, he could hurt himself."

"You can come if you want," Jean said. "I could use another set of eyes."

"Of course I'm coming along. How much time have you spent around a spooked horse? You might have signed me up for this, but I now have a responsibility to get that creature home safe."

Jean just stared at him. "Right," she said. "Shall we then?"

"We shall." He said, motioning towards the field. People tended to forget that Kane was an officer in the RCMP - Royal Canadian Mounted Police. He was as comfortable on a horse as he was in a car. It also meant he took the care of horses and other animals as a duty. They liked to joke about his care of Daisy, the Moose, but Kane was deadly serious about doing everything necessary to take care of them.

"Okay, get ready," Jean said before the two of them lifted off the ground into the sky. They could see the desert, and town in the distance punctuated with a few patches of grass and trees. The town wasn't very big, just a blip on the map. The desert stretched on, as far as they could see. The sun was low, casting shadows against the dunes.

"See anything?"

"Over there. I think he's grazing to the left." Kane pointed, seeing the shadows move.

Jean squinted. "How do you even see that---" she said, then shook her head. "Alright, we'll go slow and land behind those rocks so we don't startle him. Hopefully he doesn't expect humans to drop from the sky."

"Just drop me down. As long as we're slow, we'll be fine." Kane said and braced as his feet touched ground. He paused as Jean came down and then finally came obliquely towards Big Earl. "Alright buddy, nothing to bolt on." He said, as the big stallion munched on the shrub.

The horse seemed content as its tail flicked away a couple of flies.

Jean kept her distance behind Garrison. She had ridden horses in her time but no, never tried to catch one.

As Garrison drew closer, Big Earl stopped, looking up at the newcomer with a wary eye.

"Oh, you are a flight risk, aren't you?" Kane grinned. "Red, just stay on standby." He got closer, his hands up. Big Earl shuffled his hooves a couple of times, but eventually Kane was able to put his hands on his neck and flank. "Yeah, you're not a bad horse. You're just bored." He said, stroking him.

Big Earl seemed to almost agree with the statement, letting out a small snort as he went back to munching on the shrub.

Jean smirked. "Am I interrupting the bro moment?"

"I know training on horses is pretty silly now. But my school was serious. Every RCMP officer needed to be able to ride. It made you responsible for a life that wasn't yours." Kane reached out and stroked Big Earl's nose. "You learn empathy. You learn to care about someone with no connection to you. I think if every cop did that, we wouldn't have the broken law enforcement system we do." At the end, the horse turned towards him, nuzzling close.

Studying the two of them, Jean was silent for a moment in contemplation. "Can't argue with that," she said, then shook her head.

"And I don't think it's silly to know how to ride. Never know when something might come in handy. Plus I have a soft spot for animals."

"Well, we better get Earl home." Kane swung himself on to his back easily. While he wasn't saddled, he had his lead on, which was enough to Kane. "You want to walk back or get a ride?" He trotted Big Earl over next to her and held out his hand.

Jean smiled. "Don't have to twist my arm," she mused, taking his hand to pull herself up behind him.

"You know, when we dropped Warmouth off this was not how I pictured the day ending."

"I was planning free drinks and shrimp cocktails in front of a slot machine while we waited for our flight. Although-" With a deft twist, he put Big Earl in motion. The stallion was a surprisingly smooth riding, and Kane had them moving over the scrub quickly. "I don't mind this. I haven't been on a horse in too long."

"How long ago has it been?" Jean said.

"Four-five years. Not really sure." He said, making his way back towards the garage, the horse responding to light touches despite the lack of a saddle. "So much to do these last few years. Just one crisis to the next, it seems."

"It would be nice to have a quiet year," Jean said wistfully as she watched the desert roll by. It had been a long time since she'd ridden as well, longer than him. She was used to her mode of transportation not being alive.

"I guess it's good to take the calm when we get it." She smiled.

"Who knows? Maybe the bar will have slot machines? We are in Nevada."

"We're far enough out, I'll be happy if they have health regulations." He said wryly, navigating his way back into town.

"I don't think it'd be profitable if their patrons die from food poisoning," Jean said.

"Surely there's some semblance of care."

"Welcome to the Badlands, Doc Grey. If you order the crab salad, you won't survive the experience." He joked, finally hitting pavement. Big Earl took a couple of steps sideways, not liking it under his hooves. "It's ok, big fella. I'm going to get you home." He patted his neck.

"Ordering anything from the ocean miles from the desert sounds like a bad idea, health regulations or not," Jean replied. Scanning the area, she pointed at a large sign hung between two poles in the distance that read "Open Sky Ranch."

"Looks like their homestead might be that way."

"That's where we go. You okay there, Doc? No saddle is tough for even experienced riders."

"I'm...managing. We're close, I can make it," Jean said reasonably, adjusting a little as the road ahead seemed to go very slowly, but the end was in sight. That was all that mattered.

"Sidesaddle makes it easier. I promise. Just hang on to me."

"Noted. I'll remember that the next time we need to capture a horse," Jean said with a smirk, lacing her arms around Garrison's stomach as Big Earl continued his trot. They soon passed under the ranch sign.

"I wonder how he got out in the first place?"

"My guess is a badly latched gate. Horses are smart and... well, ornery. I guess he just got bored, nosed it open and went wide." The horse was responsive to Kane's touch and they ended up at the end of the pasture. Kane jumped down and helped Jean down before opening the gate and nudging Big Earl through.

Jean stretched, letting Garrison take care of getting Big Earl back home. She smiled. "Looks like you made a friend."

"Oh, he is a friend to everyone. They don't get him." Kane stroked the horse's cheek. "He's just bored, not bad."

"So how do you remedy that?" Jean said, leaning against a post.

"Hopefully they don't stick him in a field to stud, which I think is the plan." He gave the big gray's nose a nuzzle before walking away. "But it's not our business. Let's... I don't know. Dinner?"

"Sounds good. And you're right. We've only been around these people for a couple of hours. I mean, he's enough to them that they name a shop after him. Or vice versa," Jean said as she strolled down the road.

"I say we drop off the luggage, then treat ourselves."

"I got the horse. You take the lead for the rest." Kane grinned. "I'm following your lead, Jean."

Jean returned the grin, walking backwards as they walked to get a look at him. "Oh? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"He's safe. As for you..." He gave her a wink and then shook his head. "Not safe."

"Exactly. If I'm so not safe...then putting me in charge of anything sounds a little risky. So therefore, it's the perfect plan," Jean said, spreading her arms open wide with another grin.

"We are on vacation, after all. Well, sort of."

"We got a horse back safe. That ain't nothing." Kane grinned. "Let's find out what the roadhouse has for dinner, eh?"

"We still have to get our stuff and check into the motel. But I could definitely go for a big meal afterward," Jean said. She wondered if that was how cowboys felt back in the day.

A few minutes later they found their way back at the mechanic shop.

"He's home," Jean said, picking up her backpack to sling back on her shoulders.

Mabel put her hands to her chest. "Oh thank you both!"

"Our pleasure. What about the car?" Kane said.

"I'm sorry, but it's got a solid twenty hours involved. But we're covering your motel and dinner. This is on us." Mabel pointed to the roadhouse. "It's not the most sophisticated, but the food is good."

Jean blinked, then smiled warmly. "Wow, thanks. We really appreciate it," she said. Turning to Garrison, she nodded toward the exit.

"Shall we?" she said.

"I'm ahead of you." He hoisted up both of their bags easily, slinging them over his shoulder.

"I called ahead. Curtis has your room already set up." They nodded and headed out. Just like they had said, the clown hotel came into focus very quickly.

"This looks like a nightmare."

Jean slowly nodded. "Yep," she said, then pointed to the cemetery right next to it.

"Not to mention the view. Ten bucks this place is either haunted by a demonic clown, a ghost, or both."

"You never think of clowns of the old west. Did they always lose shoot-outs because their guns just fired a flag that said bang?" Kane mused as they were led to their room and the door opened.

"We heard about Big Earl, so we decided to upgrade you to the Honeymoon Suite. Enjoy!" Curtis said, waving towards the room dominated by a heart shaped bed, red satin sheets, and two walls covered in clown dolls staring down at the bed. Kane paused and looked over at Jean.

"This is where the prophecies say the Antichrist is conceived."

Jean stared at what they had been given with a mixture of bemusement and horror. "I knew I should have packed holy water," she said, trying not to look at the clowns.

"I should probably correct them too. See if we can get two rooms."

"Our cover identity is as the Xaviers; a happy couple from upstate. I'll... set fire to the dolls before taking the floor? I mean, setting fire to the dolls is a given."

"Right...I think the sun has gotten to my head," Jean said, then squinted. "But how do we know the clowns won't come back even after they're on fire?"

"I mean, I'm sure with my powers, I can handle a flaming clown doll. But my wife?" He nudged her. "You're on your own."

"Gee, thanks dear," Jean mused with a smirk. "You are not the man I married."

Carefully venturing into the room, Jean started opening up some of the doors. "This one's a bathroom, with a heart shaped hot tub. And this one is---perfect."

She motioned to what appeared to be a closet. "We can store them in here."

"There we go." Kane said, taking armfuls and stuffing them in. "I can take sharing heart shaped things if it comes to it. I can accept the consequences of too much tequila involved in decisions. But with clowns looking on, just fucking no."

"The fact that you can touch them is impressive," Jean said, joining in to help put them in the closet, albeit telekinetically. "If you turn into a clown due to a curse though, I am calling in the rest of the X-Men as back up."

"I think I'm still protected from that by basic coolness and the fact that I've never inappropriately touched a child." He said, finishing the job quickly and locking them in before tossing his suitcase on the chair next to the loveseat that was likely his bed that night.

"Have you not seen The Conjuring movies?" Jean said with a grin, then, as an afterthought, grabbed one of the four chairs that made up the small dining table and stuck it underneath the closet door knob.

"You can have the bed if you want. After all, you're the one that snagged Big Earl. I can take the couch."

"I only need to sleep an hour a night. Take the bed, Red." Kane said, shaking his head as he checked for anything he needed.

"Done. We should eat. I'm starving. But I desperately need a shower first. Give me about 20 minutes?" Jean said.

"Sounds good. I'll... uh, watch the clown door. If they escape, I'll give you some warning before I flee."

"It's so nice to know that chivalry isn't dead," Jean said with amusement, grabbing some clothes and a toiletry bag from her suitcase.

"Back in a flash."

True to her word, about 20 minutes later she emerged from the bathroom in a striped t-shirt, black capris, as well as fresh hair and a touch of makeup.

"Ready? Or do you need to go in too? I left some hot water."

"Nah. Weird part about my powers. I don't actually sweat." He shrugged. "But I need a drink and some food. I'm ready to carry you there in my arms to make that happen."

Jean laughed. "Alright, Superman. Let's go," she said, grabbing her purse and motioning for him to go before her so she could lock their door using an old fashioned key attached to a fuzzy heart keyring.

By now it was dark, and despite a few lamp posts and the garish neon sign for the Clown Motel (complete with giant clown), the stars twinkled endlessly above them. The roadhouse lay a couple of blocks up ahead. As it was the only one in town, and the only thing open late except for the tiny bar on the outskirts, it was hopping.

"So this is where everyone went," Jean said quietly to Garrison as they opened their door and made their way inside. A few people glanced up from their meals but went back to talking. The restaurant itself was decorated with peeling black and white linoleum floors, off white walls, and a variety of tin signs with kitchy sayings on them. There were a mixture of booths lined with red pleather patched with duct tape and 50s style tables and chairs. A jukebox sat in the corner playing Waylon Jennings.

As they waited at the 'wait to be seated' sign, a younger woman wearing a t-shirt advertising the restaurant, as well as black pants and waist cut apron strolled up. "Sit anywhere y'like," she said.

"Fantastic. We can grab a seat... over... that one that isn't wet." Kane said, and escourted her to the table. Other than the oddity of the place itself, it was a clean and tight establishment.

As Jean took a seat, she studied the crowd. There were a variety of people there, from older couples, to families, to the lone wolf tending to a bottle of beer at the bar. Just regular people on a regular night.

The waitress, Kim, placed two menus in front of them. "You must be the Xaviers. Heard what you did today for Mabel, Beth, and Big Earl. Awful kind of you two," she said.

"Pretty much all her. She used to work for a rodeo before she married me." Kane said, jerking a thumb at Jean with a grin. "Get a mad bull in here, she'll make it dance."

Jean swatted at him with her napkin. "Oh stop it, honey. He's a kidder, this one. Besides, he's just being modest. He's the star of the show."

Kim let out a chuckle. "Well, dinner's on the house. Whatever you want."

"I appreciate the thought but that isn't fair. I'll take a rack of ribs, the striploin, a t-bone rare and two cheeseburgers. And I'll pay."

Kim started to write the order down, then glanced up. "Uh...how many to go boxes do you want with that?" she said.

"Is there a bunch of salad? If not, we'll be good. If so... we'll be good."

"Your choice of sides," Kim said, pointing to the big headline at the top of one of the pages. Her cool, casual exterior was a bit thrown off by the amount of items for the order.

"Seriously, we'll pay. It's no trouble," Jean said.

"I'll take one of each." Garrison said.

"One of each---each side?" Kim said curiously.

"Two of any of the ones you think are best." He was tempted to wink but frankly. he was just tired. Kim seemed like a nice kid who didn't need his bullshit.

"Oh...honey, did you forget to tell our waitress you wanted to sign up for the The Old 96er Challenge instead of all that?" Jean said, pointing to the page on the menu that was devoted entirely to the challenge.

Kim glanced immediately to Garrison, looking somewhat relieved but also a little excited.

"Really? It's been awhile since we've had someone want to do that."

"I- uh. I- I wait...." Kane paused and looked to Jean, "You okay if I do this?"

Jean shrugged. "Why not? You get a plaque, a t-shirt, AND your picture on the wall," she said with a smile.

"I guess my wife agrees. Bring me 'The Old 96er challenge.'" Kane said with a grin.

Kim's eyes lit up. "Barry! We gotta The Old 96er! Get the grill ready.This...might take awhile," she said. She turned to leave but Jean held up a finger.

"Um sorry.. Can I just...get a club sandwich and some fries too? With water?" Jean said.

Kim quickly nodded, then wrote Jean's order down. "Uh...comin' right up." Stuffing her note pad in her apron, she practically sprinted toward the back.

Jean rested her chin in her hands. "Should we tell them you could probably finish off two of those without breaking a---well, without issue?"

"No. Because other than waving the mutant flag in the air... why not. I'm happy to be part of, well, things."

"At least make it look like it's an effort. I started to see poor Kim's face turning white when she heard all that food," Jean said with a smile, leaning back as Johnny Cash started playing on the jukebox. "She thinks you're a competitive bodybuilder.'"

"I like that. No one else does..." Kane grinned as she left. "Folsom Prison Blues. My favourite."

"People try to find the easiest explanation for offbeat things. I find most people rarely think mutant unless you do something blatantly obvious, or, well, look like one," Jean said thoughtfully. "They're almost always in their own head. The universe is only as big as the world around them. Do anything to challenge that and....they get scared."

"I guarantee there's a couple of good ol' boys in the valley that order something similar on a semi-regular basis. One of the nice things about America is that conspicuous overconsumption is utterly unremarkable. For example, all the food that I had originally ordered-" He paused for a moment. "-would have worked out to at least twenty ounces of meat less than this '96-ounce prime aged-beef steak' here." He paused again. "I hope it comes with a baked potato."

Jean laughed, then studied the menu. "Hmm. Looks like you're in luck," she said, then leaned in a little closer to read. "Plus three dinner rolls and half a pecan pie."

She glanced up with a wry smile. "Please tell me you'll wear the shirt back to the mansion."

"I will-"

"Who is the motherfucker who ordered the 96er?" A massive bearded chef stalked out from the kitchen. "Is it you? Do you want to shit on me?"

"I just... I ordered a steak. Is that-"

"You called me out. If you don't finish, I'll kill you." The man said.

"Uh, Jeannie... help?"

Jean smiled warmly at the chef, glancing down at his nametag. "Bob...Is it Bob, right? No one wants to shit on you. We just got finished helping Mabel out with Big Earl and it worked up such an appetite. Trust me, he'll finish and we'll rave all about your cooking, alright?" she said.

"No murdering needed."

"The only people who order that are trying to show me up. All of them." Bob fumed. "You better eat the whole thing. If you don't-" He pointed his cleaver at Kane. "You will be insulting me. You don't want to insult me." He turned and stormed back into the kitchen.

Kane rubbed his eyes. "So, when Bob kills me, you will claim to the mansion that I died fighting Magneto or something."

Jean gave Garrison a nod as she watched Bob go. "Sure," she said, then leaned in, whispering.

"I thought you said you ate 4,000 calories a day? Shouldn't this be a piece of cake?"

"That man is entirely too many sandwiches short of a picnic. I think he might kill me if I don't eat it or if I do eat it." Kane said. "If the baked potato is poisoned, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I could try reading his mind to find out but I'm a little worried he might know I'm in there somehow," Jean murmured with a smirk. "I get the sense he's meat cleaver kind of killer, rather than poison. If he tries anything I'll fend him off."

"You know, I expect more support from my not-wife in general." Kane groused, but picked up his fork and tapped the steak knife against it as Kim eventually came back with both their meals. Jean's only needed a plate. Kane's was a succession of plates, including a platter with a massive steak filling up all the space. "I'm going in. You better finish yours." He said, diving into the steak with methodical precision.

Jean gasped. "I just offered to fight a guy for you. If you want assassination you need to call someone else, " she mused, plucking a fry from her plate to dip in a mound of ketchup. She nodded to the steak.

"How is it?"

"Surprisingly good. I know there's all the telepathic ethics and all this, but more and more, I'm convinced this lunacy is an act for the tourists and the staff are laughing it up in the kitchen. Any hints or surface thoughts you can sense to verify it?" Kane said between bites.

"Don't need to," Jean said, glancing toward the double swinging doors to the kitchen that the waitresses came in and out of. "Watch how they react when they leave the room with the food. They aren't afraid, or annoyed. They're light and happy. It isn't an act. To be honest I suspect he takes pride in his work and doesn't want people talking down on it."

"So he's just lightly threatening to kill me?" Kane said. "I mean, that's a heck of a routine if someone takes you seriously."

Jean shrugged. "We're in the middle of nowhere Nevada. Not much to do. Seems like it'd be very easy to become obsessed with something if that's all you have. Besides...if he really wanted to try to kill you I suspect he'd be in jail already for the time he bumped off Ted and Lorraine from Milwaukee."

"Or his brother is the local sheriff. Or judge. This is the Southwest, Doc. Like Einstein said, it's all relativity."

Jean took a bite of her sandwich. "Is it? Or is it living in X-Men land that makes you think everything is the danger zone?" she said, glancing back over to him.

"I read his mind. He's fine. Just a little neurotic."

"Lady, I'm an FBI agent. I'm far more neurotic than just the X-Men ever get to." The steak was disappearing at an alarming rate. Even the baked potato, like it was a palate cleanser between every ten ounces or so of beef. "Can I get another drink here?" He said to the waitress.

"Me as well," Jean chimed in, then rested her chin in her hand.

"I hadn't been thinking of you to compare with him. Why did you?"

"I occasionally think I'm funny. Fortunately, I'm regularly brought back down to Earth regarding that." He said wryly.

Jean smirked. "I think you're funny," she took a drink, her smirk turning into a grin. "Occasionally."

"Fair enough. I mean, as long as a bit lands occasionally, it keeps the worst of the dark thoughts and the shakes away." The steak was disappearing at a rapid rate and behind him, the servers were already starting to whisper.

"The what now?" Jean said, arching an eyebrow at the word 'shakes.'

"It's a joke, Jean. Geez, did they ban self-deprecating at the Grey household?" He teased back at her.

"The ones who know what's good for them do," Jean mused. "Especially around a doctor."

She glanced over at the crowd, then back at Garrison. "Seems you're amassing an audience."

"I'm about to finish this and this whole-" He paused for a second. "There's a ceremony involved, I swear."

"Don't forget the t-shirt and the little trophy," Jean added helpfully, then added loudly so the crowd could hear. "Wow, honey, that's amazing. You really must've been hungry."

"Inspired by your support, babe." He said, leaning back. The servers came around, marveling at the almost pristine beef bone that was all that remained. They parted as a bellow of laughter exploded behind them and Bob walked out in his stained cook's white.

"Son of a bitch. First time in ages that the threats didn't make some fat bastard chicken out halfway through the Ol'96er." Bob said, walking up to the table and picking up the bone to examine like a relic before setting it back down. "Kim, dig up one of the trophies and a couple of t-shirts from the storeroom. Eating the Ol '96er means that your meal is free. But Mabel said your bill is on her so... you know what? I don't care. I'll figure it out with her later. As for you two - good to meet you and don't tell anyone that Bob the Cook isn't a crazy man who makes insane threats. It's actually good for business with folks passing through."

"Your secret's safe with us," Jean said with a smile. "Wouldn't want to give away trade secrets."

He gave them a wave as he went back into the kitchen and the waitress returned with a couple of t-shirts and a small cheap trophy with a faux-gold steak on it. They took a quick polaroid of Garrison for their Wall of Flame, cheering as he doffed his shirt (mostly for the view) and pulled the t-shirt on, proudly proclaiming he 'Beat The Meat' at Crazy' Bobs.

During the fanfare Jean kept a bemused, bright grin. Tugging her purse over her shoulder, she pushed open the door as they walked back out of the restaurant. "Great job, dear. That'll look marvelous on the mantle back home," she said, nodding to the trophy.

"Are you kidding? This t-shirt is going to make me the most popular guy at the mansion." He said, smoothing it down over his sculpted muscles. "But yeah, let's get some sleep and get out of this place."

"God, yes please," Jean said, stifling a yawn. "It's been a long day. Especially with you ending it by Beating the Meat."

"You got to watch it." Kane joked but kept them back up into their honeymoon suite. He waved her towards the heart shaped bed. "I'll take the couch."

"Thanks," Jean said, setting her purse in a nearby chair. "I don't think I snore. At least, no one's said anything before."

"It doesn't matter. Even if you did, our solution would be to share the bed, and then at some point the curtain divider would fall and we'd end up making excuses for sex. So, I'll stay here and sing a little Rob Base before bed."

"Yes I'm sure we'd absolutely do that," she said with a smirk. "Who is Bob Base?"

"Rob Base EZ-Rock?" Kane said, incredulous. "It takes two to make a thing go right."

Jean laughed, her eyes lighting up. "Oh! I never knew who sang that, so I learned something new today."

"Well, you get ready for bed, while I get ready to rock right now."

The response to that was Jean throwing a pillow at him, followed by a laugh. "By rocking I do hope you mean taking a shower. Between the walking in the sun and Big Earl you're a little dusty," she said with a grin.

"I do need a shower. But...' He peeled off his shirt on the way in. "Ladies love me, girls adore me, I mean even the ones who never saw me." He tossed her a wink before closing the door.

Jean was silent for a moment, then coughed, regaining her composure. "So humble too."

"In the shower!" He called, before actually getting in and cleaning up. Five minutes later he was back out in a towet to collect some underwear to sleep in.

Jean eyed the boxers. "You didn't bring actual pajamas to sleep in? Oh no, there will be more clothing than just underwear, thanks."

"It was in the checked in lugguge we never got. Look that way." He said, switching and sliding into the sheets on the floor.

"I have my luggage. Wait, you didn't get---" she paused, catching glimpse of him in his boxers before glancing back at the wall. "Yours?"

"Carry-on. The rest is somewhere over Chicago." He pulled a blanket over himself. "So, here's the deal. No matter what happens, we don't find a way to sleep together in the heart shaped bed if sex isn't expected to be involved. Otherwise, we're every movie meme in history."

Jean smirked. "Exactly. Wouldn't want that."

"We've have some terrible device like a curtain or a roll of fabric. And it would fail. Didn't you watch these movies?"

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Jean folded her arms and rested her head on them with a laugh. "Of course I did. I'm just enjoying you explaining it in detail. But unlike most rom coms, the leads don't have superpowers. Which would be a very fun subgenre."

"Can you imagine how many tropes telepathy would utterly destroy?" Kane said with a light laugh, shifting to get comfortable on the floor.

"Oh, quite a few. They'd just have to get creative," Jean smirked. "Telepathy meet cute. Using super strength on a first date."

"The telekinetic meets the klutzy guy and tries to hide keeping him from tripping over everything."

Jean grinned. "I'd watch that one," she said. She tilted her head. "The pyrokinetic and the ice manipulator trying to make it work."

"All Ferals Go To Heaven." Kane joked as he shrugged further into his blankets.

"Lady and the--" Jean turned her head as she heard movement from the closet.

"What was that?"

"I am not dealing with zombie clowns. I am not dealing with zombie clowns." Kane repeated to himself, pulling the pillow over his head.

Jean made a face, floating up out of the bed. "Technically they'd be demonic possessed clown dolls..." she muttered unhelpfully. Hovering toward the closet, she paused in front of it, letting out a sigh.

"You open the door, I telekinetically keep them in?"

"I hate this place. I said I hated this place when we got here." Kane groused, tossing off the sheets and walking over to the door. "Alright, One, two-" He pulled the door open.

The sounds of skittering seemed to stop. Jean frowned deeply, staring into the mountain of clown dolls.

"No. No going silent. If you're going to try to kill us, do it already," she said, putting her hand on her hips. But she received no response.

Everything was silent until Kane decided he'd had enough and kicked the pile. A rat exploded out of the pile of dolls, scurrying directly over Jean's feet.

Being an X-Man taught Jean not to scream reflexively, but it did give her a big jolt as the rat floated up off the ground, flailing wildly.

Jean swatted Garrison. "What-in-the-hell?"

"It's a rat! We're in a rat trap! Of course it's a rat!"

"Did you have to kick the demonic dolls? No! What if it was a demon doll?"

"What, you wanted to wait for the demon doll to do something in his own time?" Kane said, watching the rat float. "Do you maybe want to get rid of Mickey here?"

"Gladly," Jean said. Crossing the room, the rat floated behind her like some weird version of Fantasia. She opened the French balcony doors, stepping out onto the view of the graveyard. After checking to make sure no one was around, she floated the rat as far as she could, then let it go scurring amongst the gravestones.

"I cannot wait until morning," she said as she turned around to go back into the room.

"For what? We don't have a car if we want to get out of here now." Kane said, holding the door for her.

Jean shook her head with a laugh. "I was being figurative," she said. The door to the closet closed and a large couch slid up in front of it.

"Hopefully now that the giant rat has found a home elsewhere we can get some sleep."

"Doing better than us, eh?" Kane closed the door and turned, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is a rom-com trope too, you know."

"Which part?" Jean smirked. "Me telekinetically flinging a rat out a window?"

"A middle of the night crisis with us both in our sleepwear." He said with a laugh. It was too absurd to do anything else.

Jean squinted, then immediately let out a giggle. "Oh my God, you're right," she said, dropping down onto the bed to sit.

"I mean, if you think about it, it's pretty much been the entire day..."

"I told you. Second I saw the heart-shaped bed, the universe was setting up awkwardness." Kane headed back to his nest on the floor. "So, before a Three Pence None The Richer song starts playing slowly in the background, I'm going to get some sleep. You should too. Tomorrow, we'll spend our last day as Mister and Missus Xavier and get the hell home. Deal?"

Jean propped her head up with her hand, peering down at him with a smirk. "Deal," she mused.

The lamp light turned off as Jean crawled under the covers.

"Night dear."