Tuesday afternoon, Jamie and Marie-Ange
Oct. 26th, 2004 08:39 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsFollowing this e-mail conversation, Marie-Ange stops by Jamie's room for a chocolate fix, and they talk a little bit about the X-Men and make a deal.
If Marie-Ange hadn't been moving at a strictly paced determined-to-be-calm-about-this walk, she'd have come into Jamie's room skidding to a halt. Skidding wasn't calm, nor was running frantically for the chocolate.
Even if her fingers were twitching. She was going to blame the massive case of "What in the hell did I just do?" she was having.
"And what do you mean you were thinking about it?" She said, by way of greeting. "You are supposed to be the person talking me out of this!"
Jamie snickered at her twitching fingers and stacked an assortment of chocolate desserts on his desk. "There, all yours." Then he shrugged. "I blame Asgard too, actually. I want to take care of the long term, but the short term needs to be taken care of too, and with my powers I can do both, and . . . since I can, I think that means I should." He grinned lopsidedly. "Preview of my conversation with Kitty, I guess."
"I had a conversation with Doug all planned out, at least a little." Marie-Ange said while trying to figure out which piece of chocolate demanded consumption most. And it came down to the peanut butter fudge, damn Doug and his Reese's obsession and contagious addicting-her-to-peanut-butter. "Okay, not planned out at all actually, but it was not supposed to go the way it did."
Jamie raised an eyebrow and took another piece of peanut butter fudge, because Doug wasn't the only one who liked the peanut butter. "How was it supposed to go?"
"I am not sure. But it was not supposed to be said in the infirmary without thinking about it and blurting it out and ..." A poor pitiful piece of fudge died a violent death at this, as Marie-Ange had lost the ability to be coherant and took it out on the candy.
"Sometimes you get a little ahead of your planning," Jamie said wryly. "What did Doug think about it?"
"I am not sure. He is a little caught up in being convinced in the part where he died. I have not been much help, since I have mentioned it a few times." Marie-Ange said, between bites. "Mr. Summers is making him do workouts and we are not sure what else because Doug was stupid. Probably very early morning running like he did to Shinobi."
"Serves him right," Jamie opined around a piece of fudge. "It's a nice run in the morning, though." He grinned. "Did I ever tell you, Mr. Summers offered to teach me to fly, once?"
"Doug is not a morning person. I am not a morning person. This is going to go badly, I know it." Marie-Ange sighed. "To fly... the jet? Really? Oh my..."
"I know. You guys are lazy--I used to have half my chores done by the time Doug gets up." Jamie shrugged. "It was after the thing with Mr. Wisdom's old bosses, and I borrowed his motorcycle--I don't think he was really serious about the jet part, but I wanna see if I can lean on him to maybe get lessons in a Cessna, if I can ever catch him on a low-stress day."
Marie-Ange snorted quietly. "Insomnia. I am also usually up several hours after you are blissfully snoring." She paused, expecting a indignant face, and not giving Jamie the chance. "Yes, you do snore. And talk in your sleep about not wanting to sing for the dwarf queen."
"Not wanting to . . ." Jamie blinked. "Oh, I remember that dream. That was a weird dream, I need to stop with the peanut-butter-and-potato-chip sandwiches before bed." He grinned. "You like blaming stuff on your mutation, don't you? Big ol' excuse, if you ask me."
"Ssshhhh." Marie-Ange put a finger to her lips and shushsed. "If you tell everyone, I will not be able to get away with being up at 3am or sleeping until noon." She grinned. "I have no excuses for Doug. He is just a night owl."
"Hey, you don't tell anybody I'm halfway through the library, I don't tell anybody you don't need to sleep in. Deal?" Jamie offered a Hershey/fudge/white-chocolate-drizzle treat to seal it. "And Doug's a computer geek, it's required or something."
Marie-Ange knocked her overly-chocolate-treat against Jamie's gently in a sort of toast, and grinned. "I will not let anyone know you are not really slacking if you do not tell anyone I secretly am."
If Marie-Ange hadn't been moving at a strictly paced determined-to-be-calm-about-this walk, she'd have come into Jamie's room skidding to a halt. Skidding wasn't calm, nor was running frantically for the chocolate.
Even if her fingers were twitching. She was going to blame the massive case of "What in the hell did I just do?" she was having.
"And what do you mean you were thinking about it?" She said, by way of greeting. "You are supposed to be the person talking me out of this!"
Jamie snickered at her twitching fingers and stacked an assortment of chocolate desserts on his desk. "There, all yours." Then he shrugged. "I blame Asgard too, actually. I want to take care of the long term, but the short term needs to be taken care of too, and with my powers I can do both, and . . . since I can, I think that means I should." He grinned lopsidedly. "Preview of my conversation with Kitty, I guess."
"I had a conversation with Doug all planned out, at least a little." Marie-Ange said while trying to figure out which piece of chocolate demanded consumption most. And it came down to the peanut butter fudge, damn Doug and his Reese's obsession and contagious addicting-her-to-peanut-butter. "Okay, not planned out at all actually, but it was not supposed to go the way it did."
Jamie raised an eyebrow and took another piece of peanut butter fudge, because Doug wasn't the only one who liked the peanut butter. "How was it supposed to go?"
"I am not sure. But it was not supposed to be said in the infirmary without thinking about it and blurting it out and ..." A poor pitiful piece of fudge died a violent death at this, as Marie-Ange had lost the ability to be coherant and took it out on the candy.
"Sometimes you get a little ahead of your planning," Jamie said wryly. "What did Doug think about it?"
"I am not sure. He is a little caught up in being convinced in the part where he died. I have not been much help, since I have mentioned it a few times." Marie-Ange said, between bites. "Mr. Summers is making him do workouts and we are not sure what else because Doug was stupid. Probably very early morning running like he did to Shinobi."
"Serves him right," Jamie opined around a piece of fudge. "It's a nice run in the morning, though." He grinned. "Did I ever tell you, Mr. Summers offered to teach me to fly, once?"
"Doug is not a morning person. I am not a morning person. This is going to go badly, I know it." Marie-Ange sighed. "To fly... the jet? Really? Oh my..."
"I know. You guys are lazy--I used to have half my chores done by the time Doug gets up." Jamie shrugged. "It was after the thing with Mr. Wisdom's old bosses, and I borrowed his motorcycle--I don't think he was really serious about the jet part, but I wanna see if I can lean on him to maybe get lessons in a Cessna, if I can ever catch him on a low-stress day."
Marie-Ange snorted quietly. "Insomnia. I am also usually up several hours after you are blissfully snoring." She paused, expecting a indignant face, and not giving Jamie the chance. "Yes, you do snore. And talk in your sleep about not wanting to sing for the dwarf queen."
"Not wanting to . . ." Jamie blinked. "Oh, I remember that dream. That was a weird dream, I need to stop with the peanut-butter-and-potato-chip sandwiches before bed." He grinned. "You like blaming stuff on your mutation, don't you? Big ol' excuse, if you ask me."
"Ssshhhh." Marie-Ange put a finger to her lips and shushsed. "If you tell everyone, I will not be able to get away with being up at 3am or sleeping until noon." She grinned. "I have no excuses for Doug. He is just a night owl."
"Hey, you don't tell anybody I'm halfway through the library, I don't tell anybody you don't need to sleep in. Deal?" Jamie offered a Hershey/fudge/white-chocolate-drizzle treat to seal it. "And Doug's a computer geek, it's required or something."
Marie-Ange knocked her overly-chocolate-treat against Jamie's gently in a sort of toast, and grinned. "I will not let anyone know you are not really slacking if you do not tell anyone I secretly am."
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