xp_logs | [John, Paul] One fine day...

Paul needs to go find more obscure groceries, John decides to play native guide. He's not nearly as much of a goof as he could be. It's cute. Apologies to anyone disturbed by the Siamese plastered to the window of Paul's room doing her best "abandoned waif" imitation. She doesn't keep the noise up after the car pulls out, she knows it's a lost cause then.

"No, you can't come." Paul detached Delphine from his pant leg and carried her to the windowseat. "Papa doesn't know whether or not the stores around here are reasonable enough to let you in and I am not leaving you in the car in this heat." He sat her down in the cat-bed by the window and tried to ignore her mournful expression. Her parting wail made him wince but he closed the door anyway and walked away from the sound of her abandoned sobbing.

He meandered toward the garage, checking over his shopping list to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. Organic grapes to make up for leaving Delphine behind. That was a good idea. Paul had no idea where he was going but he'd found that simply asking likely looking people along the way was fairly expedient.

John had been waiting for the chance to introduce himself in person to the newcomer, if only to explain he wasn't as obnoxious as he'd said he was on the journals, really. So when he saw Paul leave his room, what was obviously a shopping list in his hands, John had first sprinted to his room to change into something more appropriate (snug-fitting jeans and one of his less-ratty t-shirts that was actually clean) and then to the garage - Paul would need a native guide, after all.

He slowed to a walk as he reached the garage itself, taking a few deep breaths to ease the panting - man, he was getting seriously out of shape here. Feigning nonchalance with a definite lack of success, he strolled into the garage, to see Paul waiting somewhat expectantly. "Um, hi. I'm John. Need some help?" His voice cracked on the last word, and he winced internally. Way to look like an idiot in front of the famous hunky gay sportstar, Allerdyce.

Paul had opened the garage doors and was leaning against Vega (so it was a little silly to name his car after the nickname they'd given him in Quebec, but he liked it and no one else ever used it), running his fingers through his hair and musing about what direction he was going to drive, since he really didn't have one in mind when he'd left his room. The boy who came into the garage after him was a little flushed and out of breath, a slightly rumpled and unkempt dark-haired boy. Allerdyce, right. He'd read the boy's profile over carefully after his comments in the journals.

"Just deciding which way to go when I head out into the unknown," Paul said blithely. He knew the look he was getting, the anxious-to-impress but trying to hide it expression, and he was gracious enough to pretend that he didn't notice. Looking down briefly, he realized that he'd forgotten to put shoes on. There was a spare pair of sandals in the back, he'd find them when he needed them. "I take it you know your way around the area? You wouldn't know where I could get organic seaweed, would you? Preferably hijiki and nori, but we'd settle for dulse even at the moment."

"I know my way well enough," John said with a shrug that was calculated to show just how _not_ excited he was at the prospect of showing Paul around town. "And I'm not sure about the seaweed, but Lorna seems to manage to get hold of all that gourmet stuff in town, so there's probably somewhere we can find it." A little thrill went through him at the possessive personal pronoun. Heh. We.

He hadn't been looking for company but Paul couldn't bring himself to say no. The boy's past was a little too familiar and on some level, sympathy for his younger self kept him from pushing John away. Besides, it wasn't like Delphine was coming along this time. The front seat was free. He was resigned to it now. "Sure." He gestured to the empty seat as he slid behind the wheel. "Let's go. Delphine's in a mood and I'll be lucky if she hasn't chewed up something important by the time we're back. She usually picks something like my notes, something I can't just replace."

"Nice wheels," John said as he slid into the passenger seat, unable to restrain himself from briefly stroking the leather upholstery as he did. "Delphine's your cat, right? The one you talked about in your journal?"

"Yes, that's Delphine." Paul started the car, put on his sunglasses, and pulled out of the garage, headed down the driveway. "You're sitting in her seat," he said with a small smile.

"I am? Shit, she's not the sort to get all territorial and attack me on the stairs or anything, is she?" John asked, more concerned with offending the owner than the pet. It wouldn't do to have to explain how he'd accidentally barbequed Paul's precious.

"I don't think it'll be a problem. People smelling like her is just fine with her. She assumed she owns most of the world anyway. I keep hoping she's grown out of biting people." Paul scowled briefly and shook his head. "It amazes me how many grown men can't take a little cat-bite now and then, though." He turned the car onto the winding road toward town and accelerated until he was comfortably over the speed limit, settling into the familiar cradle of the driver's seat with a contented expression.

John's grin widened as the car accelerated. This was indeed one sweet piece of machinery. Like the owner - he was surprised to find he was actually enjoying Paul's company for the conversation, not just the scenery. 'Too much sitting around on your own, John-boy,' he told himself. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you to Xavier's? Last I read, you were doing work with that Canadian group, Alpha Flight?" He blushed imperceptibly, ears reddening just a little as he realised he'd pretty much confessed to reading about Paul in the various magazines and gossip pages.

"No, I don't mind you asking. Better that than reading someone else's theories on it," Paul said dryly. "I came here for something of a break." He tipped his sunglasses down briefly to cast John a mock-stern look over the rims. "And no laughing at that. I know what this place is like. It'll still be a break."

John raised his eyebrow skeptically. "Must be one hell of a life if coming here is a break," he said with a brief grin. "They tell you about the evil clones and the demon dimensions?"

"All in a day's madness." Paul waved his hand negligently. "I'll start to worry when the elder Gods and motherships show up." He looked over at John with a mischevious grin, gauging whether or not the boy believed him.

"Elder..." John looked at Paul, ignoring the way that grin made his insides roll over, to see if he was serious. "You're kidding me, right?"

Paul shrugged, almost laughing, and then relented. From John's profile it was obvious that he wasn't exactly sheltered, though at the moment he was behaving a little puppyishly. "Not really. But I've been in the business since I was twenty, so there's been a lot to see. Some things, you just hope they're one-time occurrances."

"Man, and I thought I'd seen it all with that English girl being a witch. 'Cause all right, evil clones, meglomaniacs, shapeshifters, killer robots... those I can handle. Magic and Elder gods and demons? That just fucks with the world view, man." John shook his head. "I kind of like knowing the rules - least that way I know what I'm breaking."

Paul did laugh then, amused by the cynicism. "Rules, like the truth, are pretty illusory. They're all a matter of perspective. Just grab what you know and do your best with it. Can't do anything else." He slowed as they approached an urbanized area and the traffic thickened. "Experience has proven that I may be a little paranoid at times but it doesn't mean the universe isn't out to get me. Now. Which way to where Lorna likes to shop?"