[Paul, Cecilia] I love a challenge...

[x-vega.livejournal.com]

A rather shellshocked Cecilia finds herself at Paul's door, but isn't sure what she's looking for.  He invites her in, she saves him from the irresistible lure of an evening arguing with one of his exes and he calms her down.


Cecilia wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been walking - she was dimly aware of a faint aching in her legs, but she was attributing it to the pavement she'd had to flatten herself against for cover when the fighting broke out. It was hot, and hard, and her jeans could only do so much. Stupid forcefield didn't seem to have thought 'duck and cover' was cause to make itself useful. However long she'd been walking, though, she'd stopped now, and blinked slightly when she realized her feet had brought her to somebody's slightly-ajar door. With a faint tilt of her head, she listened for a moment to try and figure out whose room it was, before she gave up and lifted a slightly trembly hand to knock on the frame.

"Anton, I'm telling you.  Those things are tacky.  No."  Paul finished toasting a sheet of nori and reached for the bowl of rice.  He was making sushi while talking on the phone by way of the earphone and mic accessory.  "A nautical themed wedding?  I'm calling your mother to ask if you were dropped on your head as an infant."  When the knock came, he put the bowl down.  "I've got company, Anton.  We'll discuss your appalling lack of taste - aside from the groom - later.  Yes, you too."  He opened the door as he was ending the call.

Cecilia mustered up a smile when Paul answered, though it did very little to change the fact that she was shaking like a leaf and looked approximately like death warmed over.  "Apparently, I wanted to see you," she mused in a remarkably steady voice, as both arms returned to their previous place curled around herself. "Is it okay if I come in for a couple minutes?"

Paul threw the phone and earphone onto the desk and nodded.  "Come on in, chere," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward the couch.  "How about a drink?" 

"A drink might be good," Cecilia replied, trying not to cozy up against Paul's side - much - as she let herself be lead. "Nothing alcoholic, though. I don't think that would be a very good idea. Otherwise, surprise me."

Paul poured two cups of green tea from the pot that had been brewing on the back of the stove and brought one over to Cecilia.  "There you go.  Here."  He pulled a folded shawl - knit in a geometric pattern of brilliantly coloured hand-spun wool - from the back of one of the chairs and put it on the couch beside her.  "Tuck yourself in if you're cold, you're shaking."  He was unperturbed by her condition, it seemed. 

"Thank you. I'm not.. cold, exactly, but wrapping up would probably be good, too," Cecilia said after a moment, carefully holding the offered cup of tea between her knees just long enough to draw the shawl around her shoulders. Then, the tea was cradled in her hands again, and she tried to stop her hands from shaking so she wouldn't spill. That wouldn't be very nice, spilling tea all over Paul's stuff. "Worst art exhibit I've ever attended."

"So I hear."  Paul returned to the kitchen, where he could work and still speak to her, as it was open to the main room.  "I've just got to finish this up before the avocado goes unpleasant on me," he explained.  "You're fine, though?  No bumps on the head or anything?"  He deftly arranged rice and vegetables and rolled it all snugly in the seaweed sheet.  Delphine, sensing a lap nearby, leapt over the far arm of the couch and padded over to greet Cecilia.

"No bumps on the head," Cecilia confirmed, looking down at her tea. Stop shaking, stop shaking, stop shaking. "Just a couple little scrapes here and there. Otherwise, physically, I'm right as rain." She blinked at a light bump against her elbow and looked up to find Delphine peering up at her expectantly, and with a little smile, freed one hand to reach over and offer her a pair of fingers to sniff at. "This must be Delphine."

"That's my girl," Paul said, smiling fondly at the cat, who pushed her head under Cecilia's hand, seeking pets.  Paul put the few remaining dishes in the dishwasher while he spoke.  "Or, rather, I'm her person.  I'm not to proud to admit to being owned."

Not one to disappoint, Cecilia went about her duty to give the cat the attention she wanted. That's right.. now she remembered. She liked cats because they were soothing. No wonder her hands were calming down. "Well, you both have excellent taste," she smiled, casting a look back towards the kitchen.

"Thank you," Paul said, over the sound of the water as he washed his hands.  "She picked me, I think."  He brought his own tea over and sat in the chair where he could face Cecilia, watching her pet Delphine.  "Feeling any better?"

"I think I'll live," she replied, her smile wobbling for a moment before she forced it steady again and returned her gaze to the kitty. "It's an improvement."

"Good to hear."  Paul tucked one foot up under him and made himself comfortable in the chair, leaning back in it lazily.  He sipped at his tea and watched Delphine make cute with Cecilia, rolling belly up and wriggling against her, purring gently.  His demeanor was calm and slightly expectant.  If she didn't want to talk, and on that count he was indifferent, he'd turn the television on and check out the Olympic medal counts.

Cecilia seemed to find Delphine all manner of endearing, grinning down at the cat and taking the hint to pet her belly. She did want to talk, kind of.. the trick would just be stopping. If she couldn't, she'd be here for quite a while, probably blubbering like a fool for much of it, and that was not an image she wanted to leave Paul (or anybody else) with. "Thank you. For the tea, and the company. I'll get out of your hair once I remember how to get to my room from here, I promise."

"I didn't have any plans."  It was the truth, or he wouldn't have said it.  "Aside from trying to save Anton from making another appalling mistake.  However, that was mostly to amuse me, and not exactly a social engagement.  I really don't give a damn if he wants to have a Village People wedding, but arguing with him is an old habit.  You're saving him from having to listen to me read Modern Bride to him over the phone."

"Now I'm really sorry. That sounds horribly entertaining. For you, if not him." Cecilia offered Paul a grin before having a quick sip of her tea, counting on it and the company to chase the rest of her lingering shakiness away. At least for the moment. "Possibly also for anyone else lucky enough to overhear, but I would never, ever suggest we go find a speaker phone.."

Paul laughed and shook his head.  "Actually, it just makes me cranky, but I never learn.  He doesn't listen and I won't shut up.  Which is why he's marrying someone who doesn't argue with him."  This last was said with no regret whatsoever and Paul shrugged, then ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back.

Cecilia made a noise of understanding, nodding and nestling cozily back against the sofa. "See, I find that flawed logic. If I was ever going to even entertain the idea, I certainly wouldn't want to settle down with somebody who didn't challenge me."

Paul grinned at her, all mischevious little boy for a moment.  "I'm pretty challenging," he admitted.  "But I agree.  I hate to be bored and I hate feeling like I'm the only one thinking."

"I'm also the wrong gender for you," Cecilia pointed out, mirroring the mischevious grin. "And I'll have you know that I'm very pouty over this fact, especially since we seem to get along so well. I mean, you don't seem bothered by my near-nervous breakdown, here. Big points for you, sir."

Paul sighed deeply, feigning sorrow.  "Some of the best men I know are women, it's sad but true."  Then he smiled at Cecilia.  "No, I'm not bothered.  You're upset, but you're okay.  And if you need to talk to someone about it, you will.  If that happens to be me for some reason, you'll let me know."

"I'm just not entirely sure what to say," Cecilia admitted, making a face as she looked back down to the cat purring up a storm in her lap. "I know talking would help, but I'm drawing a big fat blank, in the words department. Does that make any sense at all?"

"Some things are too big to put polite words around," Paul said, looking down into his tea.

"I can't even think of any impolite ones," Cecilia sighed, with a faintly frustrated scowl aimed into her own cup of tea. "Not relevant ones, anyway."

"Not even some good curse words?" Paul asked, smiling a little. 

Cecilia paused for a moment, considering this. "I don't really curse very much.. though I think a nice, general 'son of a bitch' aimed at the situation in general is a start, maybe?"

"That's a good start.  Sometimes swearing at it makes it a little less surreal," Paul said.  "Definitely a convoluted situation that one today.  Many layers of ugly to it."

"Many layers of ugly, surreal, and Tom Clancy," Cecilia agreed, shuddering. "I don't read Clancy for a reason, and now I'm stuck in it."

"It's a trade-off.  There's many benefits to being part of something like Xavier's.  And there's also drawbacks."  Paul sipped at his tea before continuing.  "You get used to it, after a time.  If you want to, that is.  I'm sure that the group here has the resources to find you another placement."

Cecilia snorted, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, right, like where? Muir? I'd feel even more like a fish out of water than I already do if I wasn't in New York."

Paul nodded, smiling a little.  "Well, if you're a New Yorker, you won't be happy without something to complain about anyway," he teased lightly.  "You'll never run out if you stay here, I guarantee it."

"I suppose you have a point," Cecilia agreed wryly, bowing her head. "I'll just need to do.. something, to make sure I don't go completely insane in the process. No idea what, though."

"Do what you like to do," Paul said simply.  "Whatever it is.  Go for a run, knit a blanket, go spend some time with someone sane.  Don't make an issue of it.  It is what it is.  This is life, and even if you didn't know it was going on, it has been all this time."

"You are disturbingly well-adjusted," Cecilia stated, pointing towards Paul with a little smile. "And very good at the whole sense-making thing. You sure my feminine wiles aren't enough to sway you?" She wiggles her eyebrows, to show she's only kidding.

Paul laughed at her.  "No offense, but no.  I make a far better friend, anyway."

"I suppose getting to see those abs without any additional strings attached does have its benefits," Cecilia grinned, winking as she brought her tea up for a sip. "No offense taken, honey."

"I'm glad /someone/ around here appreciates me," Paul said, with a small pout. 

"You are such a damned cat," Cecilia chuckles, giving Paul an amused look. "You're a very easy man to appreciate, and I don't just mean in an eye-candy sort of way. You're a nice, solid anchor to reality. This place needs more've those."

"I keep pretending they hired me for my looks, but I think they hired me more for the fact that I'm used to all of this..."  He rolled his eyes.  "Let's be honest, they hired me for my age and experience."

Cecilia smiled wryly, inclining her head. "Take heart, dear. They recognize talent when they see it. They keep both of us around, after all, don't they?"

"Yes, you can't fault them for their taste."  Paul winked at her.  "Hungry yet?"

"Starving, actually," Cecilia replied, sounding faintly surprised. How had she not noticed that? "What time is it, anyway?"

"Dinner time, chere."  Paul said, getting to his feet.  "Do you want to eat in or go out?"

"Oh-ho-ho. Are you offering to take me out and enjoy your company some more?" Cecilia cracked a smile, lightly ruffling Delphine's ears. "Because that sounds nice. I.. think Moira might be a little too distracted to notice company, even if I offered it, tonight."

"Please," Paul said blithely.  "You tell me I'm pretty.  Let me take you out to dinner and you can tell me some more.  And I suppose we can talk about you a little too, if we must."

"You're very, very pretty," Cecilia nodded, giving the feline an apologetic look as she shifted to rise to her feet. "And far too good to me, really. I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship, even if it's one lacking in mental images to try and scar the students with. Woe is us."

"Never fear," Paul said dryly.  "We're creative people.  We'll come up with something.  I'll let you pick the restaurant on the grounds that the person with the most daily trauma should get to choose."

Cecilia pouted, setting her cup of tea down so she could draw the shawl off and begin refolding it. "You're asking the woman with no social life where to go to eat out? Only places I know of are out near NYU, and that's.. a bit of a drive, amongst other things. Bound to involve further trauma."

"I've got a list on the desk of recommendations from a friend in the area."  Paul pulled his shirt off and wandered off to get a different one on.  "Take your pick."

"Far too good to me," Cecilia repeated, beaming at Paul's bare back as she laid the refolded shawl on the back of the sofa and crossed her way towards his desk. "I think I feel like something easy. Subs and iced tea, or something like that."

"Look under delis, then.  There's a couple to choose from."  Casual, that was easy.  He pulled out a tailored, thin silk shirt that buttoned up the front, one of his favourites. 

Nodding, Cecilia scooped the list up off of Paul's desk and scanned it curiously, leaning against the back of his empty chair. Still a little light-headed, but it was going away. "I should make you give me a copy of this thing.. I'm still getting used to Westchester."

"We'll photocopy it on the way out, then."  Paul pocketed his cellphone and keys.  "Ready to go?"

Cecilia looked down at herself, eyeing the state of her jeans, before she shrugged and flashed a grin. "Yeah, I think I'm good," she agreed, keeping the list in-hand as she moved to join him. "Nice shirt."

"I think I'm going to keep you," Paul told her.  Delphine darted out before the door closed and made a beeline for Nathan and Moira's rooms.