Scott, Paige and some questions

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Paige unknowingly goes to Scott for a little bit of comfort and decides it's a great idea to not really say anything much at all. We never said she wasn't crazy. Scott doesn’t want to bring up Jono. He also thinks she doubts him. Needless to say, things do not go well... Get ready to shout, “Paige/Scott! Shut the hell up!” Then they don’t kill each other and Scott gives Paige a little hope.


Scott rubbed at his forehead, willing his head to clear. Between the fatigue and pain and the worry, though, it stubbornly refused to do so. He turned his attention back to the computer screen in front of him and concentrated hard. Needed a mission report, he told himself obstinately. Putting it all down in writing was the only way he was going to be able to exorcise it even a little...

Paige had paced past Scott’s door several times before she finally got the nerve to stand in front of it, shoulders squared. She had no idea what she was doing here; she had nothing to say to Scott. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had plenty of things to say to Scott, she just wouldn’t be saying them. The door was open a crack, just enough to let her know that someone was indeed there and so she knocked, pushing it open further still.

Scott looked up. "Come in," he called out hoarsely, and tried and failed to muster a smile as he saw it was Paige. "Hey," he said as she came in, lingering at the door. "Just... doing the mission report."

“Already?” she asked, slipping into the room and closing the door behind her. “You couldn’t have got some sleep first?” Crossing the room, Paige balanced herself on the arm of one of his chairs, swaying just slightly.

"I prefer to document disasters as soon as possible," Scott said, his mouth twisting a little. "Makes it a little easier to live with it when I don't have the details bouncing around in my head trying to assemble themselves into an objective assessment of what went wrong." He eyed her for a moment, measuringly, but decided he wouldn't be the one to bring up Jono. Not tonight, at least.

Paige chuckled a little, nodding. If she noticed the calculating stare, she ignored it. “How overly wordy of you Mister Summers. But I understand. I above all people, minus other insomniacs, understand.”

Scott sighed, reaching out to save what he'd written so far. "I will get some sleep," he said heavily. "In a while. I did after all have a building dropped on my head this afternoon, so a nap might be in order."

“I think you more than deserve a nap, sir,” Paige replied, pleased with his admittance that needed some sleep. Just because she didn’t take care of herself didn’t mean she didn’t expect everyone else not to. It was one of her faults; Paige never listened very well to her own advice. “I can... I can go down and make you some tea if it would help.” This talk was distracting and she liked it. It was so much easier to forget about your own problems when you were worrying about someone else.

"I don't think I'll need the tea, when I finally go looking for someplace horizontal," Scott said with a strained chuckle. "It's more a question of staying alert enough to get what needs to be done finished before I crash." He leaned back in the chair, watching her. "I half-expected you to say something to me about not having been ordered to the jet this afternoon."

Oh, great job. She had been doing such a good job of the forgetting, too. “I can’t say I was pleased but I’m supposed to trust your judgment. So that’s what I’m doing. Trying to do,” Paige replied with a shrug, letting her gaze slip to just over his shoulder. After this she would make tea for herself, since Scott obviously didn’t need it, and go down to the icebox that was the med labs. Possibly with a winter jacket. Paige needed to eat more and she didn’t think she’d be starting soon.

"Too soon," Scott muttered, his eyes unfocusing spontaneously. He rubbed at his temples, grimacing. "I shouldn't have had Shinobi there..." Swallowing, he looked back at her. "Will you go down and sit with him for a bit tonight? I'm worried... when he wakes up again, he could use someone to talk to whom he doesn't feel he needs to apologize to for 'failing'."

“That’s where I’m headed.” Crossing her arms, Paige darted her look back to his face, keeping herself neutral. He didn’t need her opinions right now, nor her worries or her faults. Funny thing was, no one ever did.

Having had a building dropped on his head, Scott could have been forgiven for being a little slow on the uptake, but Paige's 'I have things to say, but I'm BEING GOOD!' expression was unmistakable. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Paige... restraint is not always a good thing. I count on you to be straight with me."

Dismissing his words with a wave of the hand, Paige suddenly found the surface of his desk very interesting. “I don’t know why I’m here. Thanks for letting me delay you from your nap a bit,” she replied, folding her hands in her lap once they had settled. “Perhaps when you’re feeling up to it we can discuss when it’s not too soon, though. Gives this visit a sense of purpose.”

Scott leaned forward, resting his head against his hand for a moment. "How much time have you spent training with the team?" he asked finally, after a long silence.

“Is this a trick question?” Paige asked, regarding him carefully but without an ounce of sarcasm. It was more than made up for with a heavy dose of confusion. “Because if whatever I answer with is going to get me a lecture about how I need respect or something, could you just give me the lecture?” She wondered briefly for a moment why now she felt like this man wasn’t her friend any longer. She didn’t like it.

Scott shook his head, then wished he hadn't. It hurt. "It's got nothing to do with respect," he said tiredly. "It's practicality. You haven't trained with the rest of the team. As good as you are, Paige, you don't have the experience." He eyed her for a moment, wondering if he should leave it there, but he wasn't getting any sense that she was really hearing him. "On top of that, there's what we were facing."

“Don’t take this the wrong way, sir, but it’s rather difficult for me to get experience if I’m here,” she said quietly, suddenly wishing she were anywhere but in this room. She didn’t want him to be angry and this conversation just seemed to be causing him pain. Defeated was a horrible feeling, one she couldn’t get out of her system, but Paige could at least ignore it if she was too busy paying attention to something else. “But, I trust your judgment, sir. What you say goes. I can deal with doing exactly what I’ve been doing with the added bonus of a catsuit if you deem it necessary,” she continued, smiling a little.

Scott stared at her for a long moment. "How much have you heard about what happened?" he asked finally.

Paige resisted sighing and gave him a little grin instead. “As much as I’m supposed to know and no more?”

"You'll have access to the mission report when it's done," Scott said, no heat in his voice, just weariness. "With the exception of Shinobi, most of us were doing fairly well. Under normal circumstances, we should have been coming back with the objective achieved and good feelings all around."

“Except for the part where you got a building dropped on your head and the person who did the dropping. Not that I know anything about it and will have to wait for the mission report like everyone else,” she replied, amazed by her ability to tease in a time like this. “You don’t have to explain yourself, sir. You didn’t think I was ready. The only persons fault that is is mine.”

Scott was having trouble following. "It's your fault because you didn't turn eighteen until... well, I guess you haven't turned eighteen yet technically..." He stopped, grimacing. No babbling, Summers. "How is it your fault? You couldn't start team training until you were of age. Your eighteenth birthday wasn't going to come six months early just because..." Okay, he really had no clue what the hell he was saying. "I understand the tendency to blame yourself," he finally said, a bit dazedly. "But I'm not really getting it in this case."

Paige shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Just know I’m not blaming you. You seem to have this complex with thinking everyone loathes you.” Standing up, Paige brushed down her jeans and offered him a little smile. She’d been there after all, but she’d never tell. “I’m going downstairs. You should get some sleep.”

Scott's mind was working as she got up - not as quickly as it should be, but enough to supply him with a possible option as to how to address this. Which did not include sending her to Charles to have a long discussion about the expectations one places upon themselves. "When the mission report is up, I want you to read it," he said quietly. "I want an assessment of where you think we went wrong, based on those books on tactics I had you reading." He mustered a very faint smile. "And no, this isn't just you who's going to be doing this. Fairly standard to have any team members who weren't there evaluate those who were."

“How silly of you to think I’d wonder,” she shot back, smiling broadly as they both knew that’s exactly what she would have done. “Consider it done.” Paige made her way to the door and paused, fingers resting lightly on the trim. “Sir? After... after Doctor Grey. It was all right, wasn’t it? Not at first, but it was?” She slid her gaze over to him, regarding him from the corner of her eye, suddenly looking her size.

Scott watched her for a long moment, wishing he could say something reassuring. "After a while," he said, his voice very low. "After a while, there are... moments. Then hours. Then whole stretches of days at a time."

Paige nodded back, hurriedly, knowing she’d said something she really shouldn’t have. “That’s- Thank you. Have a good sleep,” she said quickly, and stepped out, closing the door with a nearly silent click.