(re)introducing... Jean Grey!
Mar. 12th, 2005 12:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsalso known as "Return of Crazydeadwoman"...
Around lunch time a taxi pulls up with a rather confused and frightened occupant.
Jane's eyes widened as the taxi turned up the drive towards what had to be one of the largest houses she had ever seen. When people said the word 'mansion', she normally would have thought of something smaller than this. And this was a school?
As the taxi came to a stop, Jean smiled at the cabbie and handed him the money he asked for with a small wince. God, everything in this country cost too much. If Thomas hadn't been willing to foot part of the plane costs she never would have come. Whatever he said, she didn't need help, not really, and certainly not at these prices.
She took her little duffle out of the trunk and nodded her thanks to the man, before steeling herself and walking up the front steps. This place was so intimidating. And Large. The large thing was still hitting her. Reaching out she pressed the doorbell, wondering what sort of reception this place would have, and what they could really do for her anyway.
Jay was heading down the stairs, whistling some song he'd heard on the radio recently, heading for the music room, where he'd left some sheet music he'd been playing earlier. The sound of the doorbell surprised him, but he figured that it was probably one of the kitchen people for Lorna. Not seeing anyone else around in the hallway, he went to the door to open it.
He reckoned that if he were playing for the other team, he'd be a drooling, hormonally-crazy mess. The apprehensive-looking redhead was beautiful. "Um, hi. Er, welcome to Xavier's Institute. Can Ah help ya?"
Jane tucked a loose strane of hair behind her ear and manged a worried looking smile for the boy with the... wings? "Um, hello. I'm Jane. Jane Smith. I'm looking for Professor Xavier. I think he's expecting me...?"
A little old to be a new student, Jay thought, but maybe a new teacher? Or if not, it probably wouldn't take long to rope her into teaching. He made a note to put ten bucks down on her joining the staff within a month, once Kitty opened the books. "Oh, hi. Mah name's Jay Guthrie. C'mon in. Lemme get that for you." He picked up her duffle bag and stepped aside so she could come in. "Ah'll take ya to 'im."
Jane would have been very worried if she could hear the thoughts going through Jay's mind. Right now more than anything she wanted Xavier to fix her so she could just go home. Staying at the Institute was not a part of her long range plans. "Nice to meet you," she said, taking comfort in the small nicities. They were the same, even if this place was strange. "And thank you. Are you..." She was managing fairly well not to stare at Jay, mainly by staring at everything else. "Are you a student here?"
Jay recalled that he wore the same wide-eyed look when he'd first arrived. She also didn't seem too keen on staying long, which Jay could certainly understand. Maybe he should rethink that bet. But might as well make her stay as nice as possible, so he indulged her with the small-talk. "Yeah. Just got here in September. Got a brother and sister who've been here for a while. S'nice enough."
A whole family...? "And you're all... mutants?" The last word came out almos hushed, as though Jane was uncomfortable saying it - which she was. Jane was not a mutant. Thomas might think that that was the problem, but Jane had been much happier with the idea that she was just possessed. But with the offer to pay for part of the plane ticket, and the threat that he'd leave her, too, if she didn't go, Jane had been unable to get out of the trip.
Jay couldnt help but smirk at that. "Ah still have a whole mess of younger brothers and sisters back home, but we don't know iffn they're mutants yet. My bet is they are, but Ah don't know nuthin' 'bout genetics and all that fancy stuff." Turning a corner, he saw Scott leaving one of the classrooms. "That's Mr. Summers," he said over his shoulder to Jane. "He's one of the teachers here."
"Nice to meet you," she managed faintly. Something about the man seemed familiar, although it would have been hard to say what, given she couldn't see his eyes through thoes sunglasses. It was also diffcult to say because of the headache that had just started to build up. She bit her lip, eyebrows furrowing. Now would not be a good time for another one of her little 'fits'.
Scott, who'd heard the doorbell, had assumed more or less the same thing as Jay, that it was one of the contractors or someone else delivering supplies for the kitchen. The person Jay was leading down the hall didn't appear to be a contractor, though. As Scott approached, the red-headed woman turned to look at him.
And everything.
Stopped.
Her lips were moving, saying something he didn't hear, couldn't decipher, and Scott stared at her blankly. Lost in green eyes. Part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him that this was a shapeshifter, or a trick, or he'd finally and truly snapped and was hallucinating.
As the pause went on, the pressuer in her mind began to build and build, all of it focused around this man who, glasses or no, Jane could tell was staring at her. Her confusion was escallating exponentially, and it was quickly becoming apparent that the voices in her head were, once again, not just hers. ...shapeshifter, or a trick, or... He was so familiar and she couldn't block the voices out couldn't keep his voice out why would she keep his voice out he was... "Scott?"
Her mind was on FIRE as a rush of memories poured in, swamping over her. He was Scott. She was Jean. NONE OF THIS MADE SENSE. Clutching her temples, she fought back the scream that was trying to rip out of her throat.
"Um, do you two know each o . . ." Jay began to ask, before he saw the woman grab her head in pain. He headed back to her, arms out to place them on her shoulders. "Ms. Smith? Are ya okay? Mr. Summers, what's goin' on?"
The corner of his mind that had been dark and empty and silent since the day he'd stood in the cockpit of the Blackbird and watched the woman he loved pit her mind and her will against a towering wall of water was suddenly filled again. Filled to overflowing with light, with presence, with her, and Scott stumbled back, a cry catching in his throat as the all-too-familiar pain returned, growing exponentially, into something overwhelming.
The pain echoing down the revived link had all of her attention, and Jean couldn't have heard what Jay said if he had been screaming in her ear. The physical contact, on the other hand...
The scream ripped free of her throat as her telekenesis slamned on, shoving EVERYTHING as far away from her as it would go. The desks in the classroom Scott had come from slamned against the far wall as Scott himself was sent tumbling through the doorway and Jay was shoved away from her and down the hallway. Even the floor was shoved at, lifting Jean off the ground as she curled into a little ball, still screaming.
Jay barely had time to curse before he was launched down the hall, feeling as if a huge hand had punch him in the gut. He was spared landing at the end of the hallway by an open door to one of the classrooms; he slammed against that, his head almost smashing through the glass, and fell to the ground.
Scott hit the floor a little less hard than Jay, but between the impact and the screaming in his mind, he wound up just as unconscious. Fire chased him down into the blackness, the fire he'd been chasing in his dreams for months.
Jean's mind couldn't handle it. Between the inrush of memories and the uncontroled burst of power she lost consciousness seconds later, dropping to the floor as her power shut down.
The three of them were found there less than a minute later by the people who had come running when the screaming started.
(Next two logs posted now because of massive time zone differences and probability that mun will be unconsicous along with Jean, allbeit for different reasons.)
Around dinner time Jean wakes up in the medlab with Hank watching over her. This reunion goes much better.
Jean was alive. Jean. Alive. Not dead, but in fact, alive.
Hank was having some trouble with this. His poor brain had not, it seemed, been bent enough out of shape lately, now his friends were rising from the dead.
Sitting beside her, he deliberately tried to calm himself, letting his mind fall into a light meditative state. The last thing she'd need, when she woke, was him getting all flustered at her. She'd been quite distraught before she lost consciousness. As happy as he was... and as confused, he tried to overlay his thoughts with calm and order. And to occupy himself with the quizzes he'd brought down to mark while he waited. If anything was going to distract him from the shock of it all, these should do it.
She went from being dead to the world to fully aware in less than the time it took to blink her eyes open, but she wasn't upset anymore. The surroundings were so intimately familiar to her that being upset by them would have been impossible. Besides, being unstable in the medical wing was anathema - it was her job to remain as cool and calm as possible for whoever happened to be down here for whatever reason. The fact that this time she was the patient had not fully percolated in by the time she was sitting up and swinging her legs off the bed.
When she spotted the familiar fuzzy blue face sitting next to her, Jean couldn't help but grin. "Hank," she said. "Hello. When did you come back from your latest tour? How have you been?"
Hank looked up and blinked. "Jean, you get back into that bed this instant," he said, quite automatically. She was almost as bad as he was at being a patient, and staying properly in bed. Then what she said registered, and he frowned. Tour? He'd been gone when she died, and... she had to be aware that time had passed, didn't she?
"Come on now, Hank..." she wheedled, grinning. Although the fact that something was wrong was starting to sink in, and the quite whispers in the back of her mind were not helping. ...as bad as he was at being a patient... "Why..." she started. "Why was I sleeping in here, Hank? What's going on?" ...gone when she died...
He reached out, nudging her gently back onto the bed, and pulled out his handy-dandy little light-shiny-thing. (He'd never gotten over thining of it that way.) He looked into her eyes in a professional way, double-checking for signs of concussion or... something. "What's the last thing you remember clearly?" he asked, tightening his shields as much as he could. "So I know where to start."
Sitting back on the bed Jean breathed in and then froze as her memories caught up with her. Scott... the link... Jean, she was Jean... screaming and her powers and she couldn't shut them off! She opened her mouth to answer Hank, but nothing came out. The rush of memories had swamped over her the way the water had and she hadn't been able to stop and now she couldn't breathe. Something inside her, something quite and rational, told her that she couldn't breathe in because she had yet to breathe out and with a sob she collapsed back onto the bed, trying not to hyperventilate.
"Oh, Jean... shhh..." He gathered her up in his arms, resting her head against his shoulder, rubbing her back firmly to encourage her breathing to get back into rhythm. "It's all right, you're safe now... it's a little puzzling that you are, but you are, and we're happy about it..."
Slowly Jean's breath returned to normal and she untensed a little, head pillowing on the familiar wide shoulder. As she calmed, though, her thoughts began to focus and Hank's mind was unavoidably close. Foremost on his mind was his confusion and his joy at seeing her and his worry, but beyond that was... She pulled back suddenly, trying to find her calm center and instead simply finding more noise. "Hank," she said, voice choked. "Hank... my shields. I... They're gone. I can hear... noise...." Her hands were clasped overher ears, futilely trying to shut it all out. "So many voices..."
Hank nodded, making more soothing noises. "Do you wantme to get you an inhibitor?" he asked gently. "Just for now?"
"God, yes," she breathed. "I can't shut it off..."
He'd made sure there was one in the room, just in case, and he fastened it around her wrist quickly, turning it on. "There," he said gently, as she relaxed slowly. "That better?" And now that she couldn't sense him, he was free to worry. Her shields were gone? She'd spent so long building them up, and now... just gone? That was so many shades of not good...
Silence was golden. She reveled in it, briefly, before opening her eyes again and looking at Hank. Right. Not that she could hear herself think, it was time to do so. "Much better, yes. Thank you." She looked around the room, taking in the small changes that had taken place while she'd been gone. It was still the same medical bay she had ruled over, but little things called out that someone else was in charge here, someone else had been taking care of things.
"Can you tell me now what the last thing is that you remember?" Hank asked gently, taking her hand and holding it reassuringly. "As you can see, there have been some changes..."
She smiled at him, squeezing his hand. "Do you want the last thing I remember from before or after the screaming fit up in the main hall?" The smile turned wry. "I'm sorry to have worried you, Hank. I remember everything fine. It's 2006 and I've been living in Vancouver, of all places." Of course, he was going to want more than that. She sighed. "You know about what happened on the mission to Alkalai, I assume. Getting the kids out, the damn, the jet..." She broke off, fighting down memories of rushing water and a voice that was screaming, I died. I DIED. I DIED! Taking a deep breath she went on. "I have no idea how I got to Vancouver, really. I woke up in a hospital there with no memory of anything. Once I had physically recovered there was no real reason to stay in the hospital - I couldn't remember and well..." She shrugged. "Head wounds and amnesia. You don't have to be a neurosurgeon to know that we don't know enough about the brain, and we can't just heal amnesia. So they released me, although I had frequent visits to check my progress. Thank God for national healthcare."
"Good." Hank smiled, and gathered her up for another hug. "And may I say, my dear, how absolutely delighted I am that you're all right? I missed you horribly." She was ALIVE. Really and truly. And the amnesia... well, that didn't surprise him much. The miracle that was she'd survived at all.
Jean wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. "And you have no idea how glad I am to be home." She could not, in truth, say that she had missed him. She hadn't. She hadn't known there was a him to miss. Some part of her still didn't quite believe that all that had happened had, well, happened. But it had, and she had survived, somehow. And now she was home, and could get her life back. Her smile widened into a grin. "So," she said, pulling back. "How are you surviving with the kids? Marie? Bobby? How are they all? And how on earth are you dealing with being head doc around here? How are you doing your research?"
"There have been a lot of changes around here," he said softly. "Marie is... by an odd coincidence... living up in Canada now. And we now have a three-doctor staff, so I'm getting some research done on the side, now and then...."
"Marie's gone to Canada? How... odd. What on earth does Logan think of that? And three doctors? What an... embarrassment of riches." Her smile faded slightly. Of course, they would have had to get more help with her... gone. It wasn't really being... replaced, really. She had been... gone.
"And now four. At this rate, we might start getting time off." Hank grinned. "We have more students, now, and... well, it's been a busy year. I hope you're all caught up on your sleep."
Distracted from her dark thoughts, Jean grinned back. "More students? Charles really can't keep from collecting them, can he? Well, here I am, ready and willing to help. Sleep I have had, in plenty." After all, the nights she had woken up screaming hadn't been terribly frequent, and now she was home and could get whatever help she had needed. Hell, probably all she had needed was to remember, and now she did.
"We'll give you a couple of days to settle in again, and then I'll be happy to add you to the roster." Hank smiled. "Although you'll have a lot of new case-histories to get acquainted with first. We have strange metaboli galore, an assortment of potentially dangerous powers, and even some cybernetic limbs."
"Sounds like some lovely light bed time reading," she joked. "And nothing really new, in the long run. Although, you said... Some cybernetic limbs? As in, a plurality? Hank, how many new case studies are we talking about here?"
"Er..." Hank tried to think. "The files are bigger than a breadbox? Seriously, I think we're looking at... hm... twenty five to thirty new people, at least, maybe more?"
Jean's eyebrows shot up. "Oh-kaaaay..." she said slowly. "This sounds like more than just Charles' regular lost-child collection."
"Well... what with one thing and another... " Hank grinned ruefully. "They're not all students, though, we have several new members of staff as well."
Jean blinked, then nodded. "How about I just read the files and see what is to be seen. Maybe I can put together some sort of coherent story for what all I've missed. In the meantime, what say we give me a clean bill and I head out to get some food and catch fourty or so on the doctor's orders?"
"How about the doctor goes with you to get you some food and watch you while you eat?" Hank remembered, and grinned ruefully. "Anyway, you wouldn't be able to find the food without help. We... er... had a little intruder problem. They destroyed the kitchen quite a lot."
Half way off the bed, Jean froze, then dropped back down. "The kids are ok?" she asked quickly. "No one down here under observation? I won't have you leaving somebody who needs watching just to keep an eye on me."
"Actually, we sent them off with no more than a few cuts and bruises on our side." He indicated the stitched cut now half-hidden by fur, on his shoulder. "It was a rousing triumph. We were all terribly proud of ourselves."
Jean gave the wound a quick examination, nodding. "I'm glad to hear it," she said. "And whoever your new doctors are, they do neat work. Very tidy."
"That was Maddie... Madelyn Bartlett. Normal human, ex-FBI, and as clever as she is beautiful." Hank grinned. There was no way he'd have been able to hide his interest in Maddie from Jean, even if she still had her shields.
"Oh ho?" Jean's smile turned into a grin. "I sense a story. Come, feed me and tell me all about her. I reserve the right as one of your oldest friends to make sure she's good enough for you, then tease you mercilessly."
"You are not to breathe a WORD. I don't know if she has the slightest interest yet." Hank blushed, hard, thankful that it didn't show. "You must restrict teasing to behind closed doors. And... she's wonderful. Clever, forthright, tough.... and very beautiful, too, which is also nice."
"Hank, I'm apauled that you think I would do any such thing. Of course I shall only tease you in the strictest of confidence." She hopped off the bed and gestured towards the door. "'...Also nice', indeed," she added with a snort.
He chuckled. "Jean, given her incisive wit, her brilliant mind, her compassionate nature and her delightful sense of humour, what she actually looks like is decidedly a secondary consideration." He grinned impishly at her. "Although I have always liked red hair," he added teasingly.
"Sounds perfect for you," she said, laughing along. "And you do have years of experience putting up with my red headed temper, so you're all set."
"I like her temper. I've always liked 'em feisty." He grinned at her. "And being trapped in the Medlab with not one, not two, but THREE lovely redheads - Moira is here too - well, I really do think I can bear it. I'm very stoic when it comes to being surrounded by beautiful women."
"Moira's here?" Jean's eyes lit up. "How on earth did Charles pull that off? I'd have sworn she'd never leave her research on Muir. And yes, dear," she added. "You're a dear to put up with the trials of it all. You suffer in silence, I'm sure."
"Actually, I suffer with gratuitous flattery. And Moira is not only here, she's going to have a baby. And she's engaged. I like this one a lot more than the old one." Hank shook his head. "He's a mostly-ex-mercenary. Good fellow, though. He loves her, and treats her well."
"A baby? That's wonderful!" Jean stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking at Hank. "Ok, so we've officially proved that I have missed everything. I'd say 'start at the beginning', but who knows when it would end. So... start with the most interesting thing. The most interesting thing after the other pretty red head with an M.D."
Hank thought about it. The most interesting GOOD thing, it should be, he thought. Hm. What had it been... "Alison's here, and she adopted a little boy, who is possibly the cutest being in the world." He smiled. He'd told her about Alison years ago... first the dating, then the friendship. "She's teaching music, obviously."
"Alison Blaire is teaching here?" Jean blinked. She remembered when the other woman had come, and she had been quite sure she wasn't going to stay long - just until some mess in the recording industry blew over. "Huh. Didn't expect that. Next you'll be telling me that that Canadian fellow, Jean-Paul Beaubier is here."
"Well, he was. He went away again recently." Hank grinned. "And Miles... Alison's little boy... is utterly adorable. And green."
Jean nodded. Green she could handle. Green was practically normal around here. "Right. Food. I need food to handle all this. I would like to meet this Miles, because anyone you think is adorable is probably too cute for their own good, but first, feed me, Hank, or I shall perish."
Hank laughed, and offered her his arm. "To the food, then. There will be venison, I suspect."
"Any particular reason for this suspicion, or is it just idyl guessing?"
"It's been there ever since we lost the kitchen, I see no reason why it would stop being there now." Hank grinned. "We've been having a deer problem, of late. A couple of the feral-type students have been resolving that and our food-shortage at the same time."
"Ah," Jean nodded. "A commendable use of resources and undoubtedly an excellent training exercise, huh? Reminds me of when we were kids - everything became training exercises."
"Oh, yes indeed." Hank grinned. "Although they went out to do it all by themselves, without having to be told. I don't recall being quite that enthusiastic... but then, we weren't short of food at the time."
"And food is definitely a deciding influence with most feral mutations," Jan agreed, nodding.
"Food is a deciding influence in people in general." He grinned. "And speaking of which... shall we?"
"Yes, let's."
Later in the evening Madelyn comes by Jean's new suite to drop off some files for her to look over.
It was ridiculous to be nervous, but that was what Madelyn was, clutching a batch of student medical files to her chest as she hesitated outside the room that had been assigned to Jean Grey. _The_ Jean Grey. The same Jean Grey she'd heard Moira and Hank talk about with almost reverent tones, her brilliance, her dedication, her courage...
Okay, maybe being nervous wasn't so ridiculous after all.
Summoning up her nerve, Madelyn rapped on the door, briskly. "Um, Jean? It's Madelyn. I've got some more files for you - Hank said you'd be ready for more by now..." Great, now she sounded like Hank's lackey.
So maybe trying to understand all the changes and the new people who had come and gone while she'd been... away... in half a day simply by pouring through medical records was absurd, but it was easier (a part of her said, 'not as frightening') than going out and trying to take it all in at once. But the knock on the door brought the promise of real people to interact with, and the name called out offered opportunity. Madelyn - the newest doctor, who Hank had described in such glowing terms. Jean grinned and moved over to open the door.
"Hello," she said, smiling. "Come in, come in. Madelyn Bartlett, right? It's wonderful to meet you. Your notes on Mr..." She glanced at the file she was reading, checking the name again, "Mr. Starsmore are fascinating."
"That's right," Madelyn said, relaxing a little at the friendliness of the greeting and the professional compliment, but still feeling rather like someone with an older sister who was better at everything. Obscurely wishing her hair hadn't darkened to _quite_ so red over the winter, she mustered up a smile. "Jono's... a challenging case. Most of the work is Hank's - I was just stepping in while he was incapacitated." She tilted her head at the spread of files over the coffee table. "We're not overwhelming you, are we?"
Jean waved Madelyn to a chair. "Can I get you anything? I am in love with this idea of giving everyone an in suite kitchen. Whoever came up with it has my undying gratitude. I have coffee, tea, juice and some cookies I liberated from Hank. As for overwhelming..." She shrugged. "I've been gone for two years. It's to be expected. Why was Hank incapacitated?" It had always been the case that the
only way to keep up at Xavier's was to catch everything and that seemed not to have changed, at least.
"Ah, coffee would be great, thanks. I don't think I've had my requisite six cups before lunch," Madelyn joked, taking a seat and laying the files she was carrying on the coffee table. "As for Hank... the effects of a spectacularly bad kissing choice - he fell victim to a rather ambitious wanna-be super-villain and quuite literally lost his mind. Her powers were re-writing his DNA, destroying his mind." Madelyn frowned, not liking to remember the state he'd been in by the end. "But all fixed now," she went on, forcing the cheerful tone a bit, but not wanting to dwell on her part in the whole drama.
The coffee machine turned on, Jean returned and dropped back into her chair. "That is... definitely a bad choice on his part," she said. "And I'm glad he's back and good as ever." She smiled slightly. "We shall have to insure he makes better choices in the future, won't we? Can't let him go wandering around and kissing every super villain who wanders across his path." Jean had promised to not tease Hank in front of Madelyn, or let on that she knew he was interested in her, but she was not above a little judicious investigation of her own. Even with the inhibitor on she could see how the woman reacted.
Madelyn blushed faintly. "He was just... lonely," she said, for some reason regretting the words she'd used. Hank wasn't to blame, as foolish as he'd been to be so fooled. "It's hard, for him sometimes. I wish..." Cutting herself off, she changed the subject. "Still, it'll be great to have another pair of hands in the lab. Spread the load, give us more time to work on our own projects without being swamped with physicals and periodic invasions..."
That was promising, Jean decided, having seen the slight blush. She happily let the subject shift. "Of course," she agreed. "I'm surprised Hank and Moira have had the patience for all the patients so far. I know they both prefer research to G.P.ing, and I was always happy to be the school 'nurse' while Hank did his research. How about you? Hank mentioned you're ex-F.B.I., but what's your pet 'project'?"
"I came her with the idea of trying to formulate some sort of standard emergency procedure for mutants that are injured, or at least as standard as you can get with the variety in mutations..." Madelyn shifted a little uncomfortably, sure the idea sounded rather stupid to Jean. "My focus has shifted a bit, lately, though. More the FBI side of things than the medicine. I've been trying to establish links between the team and the Bureau, trying to help the X-Men get some legitimacy after Stryker's attempts to make them outlaws." Unconsciously she wasn't including Jean as an X-Man - something about the woman's fragile state made that difficult.
"Hmm," Jean said, thinking it over. "Yes, I can see how that would be difficult - particularly given most E.M.S. response crews would be unwilling or at least hesitant to help a known mutant." The reference to Stryker overrode anything else she might have noticed from what the other woman said, and the idea that Jean might not be an X-Man anymore never even occurred to her. "Legitimacy... has always been one of our biggest problems," she agreed. "Counter balanced with the recognition that comes from it. Many things we do would be much more difficult with the eyes of the world on us."
"The eyes of the world are already on us - that's what happens when you invite CNN to do a special." Madelyn's tone was wry. "Not that it was advertised the X-Men operated from her, but several of the team gave interviews, and you have to admit, they _are_ very distinctive. What protection you had in secrecy is gone - better to try and show the government you're on the same side."
Jean's eyebrows rose in surprise. "CNN...?" she asked, faintly. "I... hadn't heard that." Pursing her lips, she considered the ramifications of such an event. "You're right, of course. I've always been in favor of having the government look favorably on us. It just... so rarely happens." Her fingers itched to be on the pulse again, to judge the temperature in Washington, but she held back. She was 'dead'. Dead women did not call their friends.
"It's been happening more often than it used to," Madelyn said with a brief smile at the thought of the work that had been going on with the Mistra taskforce. X-Men, government and MacInnis's people all working together to run the bastards to ground. "Charles is working on maintaining a co-operative relationship with the President. He's secured pardons for a number of the residents, including John after his thankfully short career as one of Magneto's Brotherhood."
Jean smiled. "I saw that John's file had been updated since I left. I'm glad he came back. He's a little prick, and loves to rub it in people's noses, but he's a good kid, for all of that."
"He's busy with college, by all accounts - we don't see a lot of him. Keeping out of trouble, though." Madelyn smiled. "It must be strange, finding everyone's moved on while you've been... away."
"You have no idea." It was Jean's turn to be wry.
"No, I suppose I don't." There was a certain amount of sympathy in Madelyn's voice as she considered Jean. So much, all at once. "Well, any help I can be..." She grinned. "Between Alison and I, we've probably got most of the mansion gossip ocvered."
"I think that may have been the biggest shock so far," Jean mused. "Finding that Alison Blair had hung around, had actually joined the staff. Well, I'm sure there will be something more surprising yet..."
"How about the fact she's a team leader now?" Madelyn said, unable to resist the opportunity. Too bad she wasn't drinking anything.
Jean's eyes did widen comically, though, her mouth falling open. "Alison Blair... an X-Man? Team leader...?" She stared at Madelyn, not blinking. "Good God..."
-Ping- went the timer on the percolator and, without blinking, Jean held out her hand, willing the coffee pot to cross the room. Nothing happened. The persistence of the lack of anything to happen was what finally got her to look over, catching sight of the inhibitor on her wrist. "Ah... right," she said, quietly. Standing she smiled at Madelyn. "I'll just... go get the coffee."
Around lunch time a taxi pulls up with a rather confused and frightened occupant.
Jane's eyes widened as the taxi turned up the drive towards what had to be one of the largest houses she had ever seen. When people said the word 'mansion', she normally would have thought of something smaller than this. And this was a school?
As the taxi came to a stop, Jean smiled at the cabbie and handed him the money he asked for with a small wince. God, everything in this country cost too much. If Thomas hadn't been willing to foot part of the plane costs she never would have come. Whatever he said, she didn't need help, not really, and certainly not at these prices.
She took her little duffle out of the trunk and nodded her thanks to the man, before steeling herself and walking up the front steps. This place was so intimidating. And Large. The large thing was still hitting her. Reaching out she pressed the doorbell, wondering what sort of reception this place would have, and what they could really do for her anyway.
Jay was heading down the stairs, whistling some song he'd heard on the radio recently, heading for the music room, where he'd left some sheet music he'd been playing earlier. The sound of the doorbell surprised him, but he figured that it was probably one of the kitchen people for Lorna. Not seeing anyone else around in the hallway, he went to the door to open it.
He reckoned that if he were playing for the other team, he'd be a drooling, hormonally-crazy mess. The apprehensive-looking redhead was beautiful. "Um, hi. Er, welcome to Xavier's Institute. Can Ah help ya?"
Jane tucked a loose strane of hair behind her ear and manged a worried looking smile for the boy with the... wings? "Um, hello. I'm Jane. Jane Smith. I'm looking for Professor Xavier. I think he's expecting me...?"
A little old to be a new student, Jay thought, but maybe a new teacher? Or if not, it probably wouldn't take long to rope her into teaching. He made a note to put ten bucks down on her joining the staff within a month, once Kitty opened the books. "Oh, hi. Mah name's Jay Guthrie. C'mon in. Lemme get that for you." He picked up her duffle bag and stepped aside so she could come in. "Ah'll take ya to 'im."
Jane would have been very worried if she could hear the thoughts going through Jay's mind. Right now more than anything she wanted Xavier to fix her so she could just go home. Staying at the Institute was not a part of her long range plans. "Nice to meet you," she said, taking comfort in the small nicities. They were the same, even if this place was strange. "And thank you. Are you..." She was managing fairly well not to stare at Jay, mainly by staring at everything else. "Are you a student here?"
Jay recalled that he wore the same wide-eyed look when he'd first arrived. She also didn't seem too keen on staying long, which Jay could certainly understand. Maybe he should rethink that bet. But might as well make her stay as nice as possible, so he indulged her with the small-talk. "Yeah. Just got here in September. Got a brother and sister who've been here for a while. S'nice enough."
A whole family...? "And you're all... mutants?" The last word came out almos hushed, as though Jane was uncomfortable saying it - which she was. Jane was not a mutant. Thomas might think that that was the problem, but Jane had been much happier with the idea that she was just possessed. But with the offer to pay for part of the plane ticket, and the threat that he'd leave her, too, if she didn't go, Jane had been unable to get out of the trip.
Jay couldnt help but smirk at that. "Ah still have a whole mess of younger brothers and sisters back home, but we don't know iffn they're mutants yet. My bet is they are, but Ah don't know nuthin' 'bout genetics and all that fancy stuff." Turning a corner, he saw Scott leaving one of the classrooms. "That's Mr. Summers," he said over his shoulder to Jane. "He's one of the teachers here."
"Nice to meet you," she managed faintly. Something about the man seemed familiar, although it would have been hard to say what, given she couldn't see his eyes through thoes sunglasses. It was also diffcult to say because of the headache that had just started to build up. She bit her lip, eyebrows furrowing. Now would not be a good time for another one of her little 'fits'.
Scott, who'd heard the doorbell, had assumed more or less the same thing as Jay, that it was one of the contractors or someone else delivering supplies for the kitchen. The person Jay was leading down the hall didn't appear to be a contractor, though. As Scott approached, the red-headed woman turned to look at him.
And everything.
Stopped.
Her lips were moving, saying something he didn't hear, couldn't decipher, and Scott stared at her blankly. Lost in green eyes. Part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him that this was a shapeshifter, or a trick, or he'd finally and truly snapped and was hallucinating.
As the pause went on, the pressuer in her mind began to build and build, all of it focused around this man who, glasses or no, Jane could tell was staring at her. Her confusion was escallating exponentially, and it was quickly becoming apparent that the voices in her head were, once again, not just hers. ...shapeshifter, or a trick, or... He was so familiar and she couldn't block the voices out couldn't keep his voice out why would she keep his voice out he was... "Scott?"
Her mind was on FIRE as a rush of memories poured in, swamping over her. He was Scott. She was Jean. NONE OF THIS MADE SENSE. Clutching her temples, she fought back the scream that was trying to rip out of her throat.
"Um, do you two know each o . . ." Jay began to ask, before he saw the woman grab her head in pain. He headed back to her, arms out to place them on her shoulders. "Ms. Smith? Are ya okay? Mr. Summers, what's goin' on?"
The corner of his mind that had been dark and empty and silent since the day he'd stood in the cockpit of the Blackbird and watched the woman he loved pit her mind and her will against a towering wall of water was suddenly filled again. Filled to overflowing with light, with presence, with her, and Scott stumbled back, a cry catching in his throat as the all-too-familiar pain returned, growing exponentially, into something overwhelming.
The pain echoing down the revived link had all of her attention, and Jean couldn't have heard what Jay said if he had been screaming in her ear. The physical contact, on the other hand...
The scream ripped free of her throat as her telekenesis slamned on, shoving EVERYTHING as far away from her as it would go. The desks in the classroom Scott had come from slamned against the far wall as Scott himself was sent tumbling through the doorway and Jay was shoved away from her and down the hallway. Even the floor was shoved at, lifting Jean off the ground as she curled into a little ball, still screaming.
Jay barely had time to curse before he was launched down the hall, feeling as if a huge hand had punch him in the gut. He was spared landing at the end of the hallway by an open door to one of the classrooms; he slammed against that, his head almost smashing through the glass, and fell to the ground.
Scott hit the floor a little less hard than Jay, but between the impact and the screaming in his mind, he wound up just as unconscious. Fire chased him down into the blackness, the fire he'd been chasing in his dreams for months.
Jean's mind couldn't handle it. Between the inrush of memories and the uncontroled burst of power she lost consciousness seconds later, dropping to the floor as her power shut down.
The three of them were found there less than a minute later by the people who had come running when the screaming started.
(Next two logs posted now because of massive time zone differences and probability that mun will be unconsicous along with Jean, allbeit for different reasons.)
Around dinner time Jean wakes up in the medlab with Hank watching over her. This reunion goes much better.
Jean was alive. Jean. Alive. Not dead, but in fact, alive.
Hank was having some trouble with this. His poor brain had not, it seemed, been bent enough out of shape lately, now his friends were rising from the dead.
Sitting beside her, he deliberately tried to calm himself, letting his mind fall into a light meditative state. The last thing she'd need, when she woke, was him getting all flustered at her. She'd been quite distraught before she lost consciousness. As happy as he was... and as confused, he tried to overlay his thoughts with calm and order. And to occupy himself with the quizzes he'd brought down to mark while he waited. If anything was going to distract him from the shock of it all, these should do it.
She went from being dead to the world to fully aware in less than the time it took to blink her eyes open, but she wasn't upset anymore. The surroundings were so intimately familiar to her that being upset by them would have been impossible. Besides, being unstable in the medical wing was anathema - it was her job to remain as cool and calm as possible for whoever happened to be down here for whatever reason. The fact that this time she was the patient had not fully percolated in by the time she was sitting up and swinging her legs off the bed.
When she spotted the familiar fuzzy blue face sitting next to her, Jean couldn't help but grin. "Hank," she said. "Hello. When did you come back from your latest tour? How have you been?"
Hank looked up and blinked. "Jean, you get back into that bed this instant," he said, quite automatically. She was almost as bad as he was at being a patient, and staying properly in bed. Then what she said registered, and he frowned. Tour? He'd been gone when she died, and... she had to be aware that time had passed, didn't she?
"Come on now, Hank..." she wheedled, grinning. Although the fact that something was wrong was starting to sink in, and the quite whispers in the back of her mind were not helping. ...as bad as he was at being a patient... "Why..." she started. "Why was I sleeping in here, Hank? What's going on?" ...gone when she died...
He reached out, nudging her gently back onto the bed, and pulled out his handy-dandy little light-shiny-thing. (He'd never gotten over thining of it that way.) He looked into her eyes in a professional way, double-checking for signs of concussion or... something. "What's the last thing you remember clearly?" he asked, tightening his shields as much as he could. "So I know where to start."
Sitting back on the bed Jean breathed in and then froze as her memories caught up with her. Scott... the link... Jean, she was Jean... screaming and her powers and she couldn't shut them off! She opened her mouth to answer Hank, but nothing came out. The rush of memories had swamped over her the way the water had and she hadn't been able to stop and now she couldn't breathe. Something inside her, something quite and rational, told her that she couldn't breathe in because she had yet to breathe out and with a sob she collapsed back onto the bed, trying not to hyperventilate.
"Oh, Jean... shhh..." He gathered her up in his arms, resting her head against his shoulder, rubbing her back firmly to encourage her breathing to get back into rhythm. "It's all right, you're safe now... it's a little puzzling that you are, but you are, and we're happy about it..."
Slowly Jean's breath returned to normal and she untensed a little, head pillowing on the familiar wide shoulder. As she calmed, though, her thoughts began to focus and Hank's mind was unavoidably close. Foremost on his mind was his confusion and his joy at seeing her and his worry, but beyond that was... She pulled back suddenly, trying to find her calm center and instead simply finding more noise. "Hank," she said, voice choked. "Hank... my shields. I... They're gone. I can hear... noise...." Her hands were clasped overher ears, futilely trying to shut it all out. "So many voices..."
Hank nodded, making more soothing noises. "Do you wantme to get you an inhibitor?" he asked gently. "Just for now?"
"God, yes," she breathed. "I can't shut it off..."
He'd made sure there was one in the room, just in case, and he fastened it around her wrist quickly, turning it on. "There," he said gently, as she relaxed slowly. "That better?" And now that she couldn't sense him, he was free to worry. Her shields were gone? She'd spent so long building them up, and now... just gone? That was so many shades of not good...
Silence was golden. She reveled in it, briefly, before opening her eyes again and looking at Hank. Right. Not that she could hear herself think, it was time to do so. "Much better, yes. Thank you." She looked around the room, taking in the small changes that had taken place while she'd been gone. It was still the same medical bay she had ruled over, but little things called out that someone else was in charge here, someone else had been taking care of things.
"Can you tell me now what the last thing is that you remember?" Hank asked gently, taking her hand and holding it reassuringly. "As you can see, there have been some changes..."
She smiled at him, squeezing his hand. "Do you want the last thing I remember from before or after the screaming fit up in the main hall?" The smile turned wry. "I'm sorry to have worried you, Hank. I remember everything fine. It's 2006 and I've been living in Vancouver, of all places." Of course, he was going to want more than that. She sighed. "You know about what happened on the mission to Alkalai, I assume. Getting the kids out, the damn, the jet..." She broke off, fighting down memories of rushing water and a voice that was screaming, I died. I DIED. I DIED! Taking a deep breath she went on. "I have no idea how I got to Vancouver, really. I woke up in a hospital there with no memory of anything. Once I had physically recovered there was no real reason to stay in the hospital - I couldn't remember and well..." She shrugged. "Head wounds and amnesia. You don't have to be a neurosurgeon to know that we don't know enough about the brain, and we can't just heal amnesia. So they released me, although I had frequent visits to check my progress. Thank God for national healthcare."
"Good." Hank smiled, and gathered her up for another hug. "And may I say, my dear, how absolutely delighted I am that you're all right? I missed you horribly." She was ALIVE. Really and truly. And the amnesia... well, that didn't surprise him much. The miracle that was she'd survived at all.
Jean wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. "And you have no idea how glad I am to be home." She could not, in truth, say that she had missed him. She hadn't. She hadn't known there was a him to miss. Some part of her still didn't quite believe that all that had happened had, well, happened. But it had, and she had survived, somehow. And now she was home, and could get her life back. Her smile widened into a grin. "So," she said, pulling back. "How are you surviving with the kids? Marie? Bobby? How are they all? And how on earth are you dealing with being head doc around here? How are you doing your research?"
"There have been a lot of changes around here," he said softly. "Marie is... by an odd coincidence... living up in Canada now. And we now have a three-doctor staff, so I'm getting some research done on the side, now and then...."
"Marie's gone to Canada? How... odd. What on earth does Logan think of that? And three doctors? What an... embarrassment of riches." Her smile faded slightly. Of course, they would have had to get more help with her... gone. It wasn't really being... replaced, really. She had been... gone.
"And now four. At this rate, we might start getting time off." Hank grinned. "We have more students, now, and... well, it's been a busy year. I hope you're all caught up on your sleep."
Distracted from her dark thoughts, Jean grinned back. "More students? Charles really can't keep from collecting them, can he? Well, here I am, ready and willing to help. Sleep I have had, in plenty." After all, the nights she had woken up screaming hadn't been terribly frequent, and now she was home and could get whatever help she had needed. Hell, probably all she had needed was to remember, and now she did.
"We'll give you a couple of days to settle in again, and then I'll be happy to add you to the roster." Hank smiled. "Although you'll have a lot of new case-histories to get acquainted with first. We have strange metaboli galore, an assortment of potentially dangerous powers, and even some cybernetic limbs."
"Sounds like some lovely light bed time reading," she joked. "And nothing really new, in the long run. Although, you said... Some cybernetic limbs? As in, a plurality? Hank, how many new case studies are we talking about here?"
"Er..." Hank tried to think. "The files are bigger than a breadbox? Seriously, I think we're looking at... hm... twenty five to thirty new people, at least, maybe more?"
Jean's eyebrows shot up. "Oh-kaaaay..." she said slowly. "This sounds like more than just Charles' regular lost-child collection."
"Well... what with one thing and another... " Hank grinned ruefully. "They're not all students, though, we have several new members of staff as well."
Jean blinked, then nodded. "How about I just read the files and see what is to be seen. Maybe I can put together some sort of coherent story for what all I've missed. In the meantime, what say we give me a clean bill and I head out to get some food and catch fourty or so on the doctor's orders?"
"How about the doctor goes with you to get you some food and watch you while you eat?" Hank remembered, and grinned ruefully. "Anyway, you wouldn't be able to find the food without help. We... er... had a little intruder problem. They destroyed the kitchen quite a lot."
Half way off the bed, Jean froze, then dropped back down. "The kids are ok?" she asked quickly. "No one down here under observation? I won't have you leaving somebody who needs watching just to keep an eye on me."
"Actually, we sent them off with no more than a few cuts and bruises on our side." He indicated the stitched cut now half-hidden by fur, on his shoulder. "It was a rousing triumph. We were all terribly proud of ourselves."
Jean gave the wound a quick examination, nodding. "I'm glad to hear it," she said. "And whoever your new doctors are, they do neat work. Very tidy."
"That was Maddie... Madelyn Bartlett. Normal human, ex-FBI, and as clever as she is beautiful." Hank grinned. There was no way he'd have been able to hide his interest in Maddie from Jean, even if she still had her shields.
"Oh ho?" Jean's smile turned into a grin. "I sense a story. Come, feed me and tell me all about her. I reserve the right as one of your oldest friends to make sure she's good enough for you, then tease you mercilessly."
"You are not to breathe a WORD. I don't know if she has the slightest interest yet." Hank blushed, hard, thankful that it didn't show. "You must restrict teasing to behind closed doors. And... she's wonderful. Clever, forthright, tough.... and very beautiful, too, which is also nice."
"Hank, I'm apauled that you think I would do any such thing. Of course I shall only tease you in the strictest of confidence." She hopped off the bed and gestured towards the door. "'...Also nice', indeed," she added with a snort.
He chuckled. "Jean, given her incisive wit, her brilliant mind, her compassionate nature and her delightful sense of humour, what she actually looks like is decidedly a secondary consideration." He grinned impishly at her. "Although I have always liked red hair," he added teasingly.
"Sounds perfect for you," she said, laughing along. "And you do have years of experience putting up with my red headed temper, so you're all set."
"I like her temper. I've always liked 'em feisty." He grinned at her. "And being trapped in the Medlab with not one, not two, but THREE lovely redheads - Moira is here too - well, I really do think I can bear it. I'm very stoic when it comes to being surrounded by beautiful women."
"Moira's here?" Jean's eyes lit up. "How on earth did Charles pull that off? I'd have sworn she'd never leave her research on Muir. And yes, dear," she added. "You're a dear to put up with the trials of it all. You suffer in silence, I'm sure."
"Actually, I suffer with gratuitous flattery. And Moira is not only here, she's going to have a baby. And she's engaged. I like this one a lot more than the old one." Hank shook his head. "He's a mostly-ex-mercenary. Good fellow, though. He loves her, and treats her well."
"A baby? That's wonderful!" Jean stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking at Hank. "Ok, so we've officially proved that I have missed everything. I'd say 'start at the beginning', but who knows when it would end. So... start with the most interesting thing. The most interesting thing after the other pretty red head with an M.D."
Hank thought about it. The most interesting GOOD thing, it should be, he thought. Hm. What had it been... "Alison's here, and she adopted a little boy, who is possibly the cutest being in the world." He smiled. He'd told her about Alison years ago... first the dating, then the friendship. "She's teaching music, obviously."
"Alison Blaire is teaching here?" Jean blinked. She remembered when the other woman had come, and she had been quite sure she wasn't going to stay long - just until some mess in the recording industry blew over. "Huh. Didn't expect that. Next you'll be telling me that that Canadian fellow, Jean-Paul Beaubier is here."
"Well, he was. He went away again recently." Hank grinned. "And Miles... Alison's little boy... is utterly adorable. And green."
Jean nodded. Green she could handle. Green was practically normal around here. "Right. Food. I need food to handle all this. I would like to meet this Miles, because anyone you think is adorable is probably too cute for their own good, but first, feed me, Hank, or I shall perish."
Hank laughed, and offered her his arm. "To the food, then. There will be venison, I suspect."
"Any particular reason for this suspicion, or is it just idyl guessing?"
"It's been there ever since we lost the kitchen, I see no reason why it would stop being there now." Hank grinned. "We've been having a deer problem, of late. A couple of the feral-type students have been resolving that and our food-shortage at the same time."
"Ah," Jean nodded. "A commendable use of resources and undoubtedly an excellent training exercise, huh? Reminds me of when we were kids - everything became training exercises."
"Oh, yes indeed." Hank grinned. "Although they went out to do it all by themselves, without having to be told. I don't recall being quite that enthusiastic... but then, we weren't short of food at the time."
"And food is definitely a deciding influence with most feral mutations," Jan agreed, nodding.
"Food is a deciding influence in people in general." He grinned. "And speaking of which... shall we?"
"Yes, let's."
Later in the evening Madelyn comes by Jean's new suite to drop off some files for her to look over.
It was ridiculous to be nervous, but that was what Madelyn was, clutching a batch of student medical files to her chest as she hesitated outside the room that had been assigned to Jean Grey. _The_ Jean Grey. The same Jean Grey she'd heard Moira and Hank talk about with almost reverent tones, her brilliance, her dedication, her courage...
Okay, maybe being nervous wasn't so ridiculous after all.
Summoning up her nerve, Madelyn rapped on the door, briskly. "Um, Jean? It's Madelyn. I've got some more files for you - Hank said you'd be ready for more by now..." Great, now she sounded like Hank's lackey.
So maybe trying to understand all the changes and the new people who had come and gone while she'd been... away... in half a day simply by pouring through medical records was absurd, but it was easier (a part of her said, 'not as frightening') than going out and trying to take it all in at once. But the knock on the door brought the promise of real people to interact with, and the name called out offered opportunity. Madelyn - the newest doctor, who Hank had described in such glowing terms. Jean grinned and moved over to open the door.
"Hello," she said, smiling. "Come in, come in. Madelyn Bartlett, right? It's wonderful to meet you. Your notes on Mr..." She glanced at the file she was reading, checking the name again, "Mr. Starsmore are fascinating."
"That's right," Madelyn said, relaxing a little at the friendliness of the greeting and the professional compliment, but still feeling rather like someone with an older sister who was better at everything. Obscurely wishing her hair hadn't darkened to _quite_ so red over the winter, she mustered up a smile. "Jono's... a challenging case. Most of the work is Hank's - I was just stepping in while he was incapacitated." She tilted her head at the spread of files over the coffee table. "We're not overwhelming you, are we?"
Jean waved Madelyn to a chair. "Can I get you anything? I am in love with this idea of giving everyone an in suite kitchen. Whoever came up with it has my undying gratitude. I have coffee, tea, juice and some cookies I liberated from Hank. As for overwhelming..." She shrugged. "I've been gone for two years. It's to be expected. Why was Hank incapacitated?" It had always been the case that the
only way to keep up at Xavier's was to catch everything and that seemed not to have changed, at least.
"Ah, coffee would be great, thanks. I don't think I've had my requisite six cups before lunch," Madelyn joked, taking a seat and laying the files she was carrying on the coffee table. "As for Hank... the effects of a spectacularly bad kissing choice - he fell victim to a rather ambitious wanna-be super-villain and quuite literally lost his mind. Her powers were re-writing his DNA, destroying his mind." Madelyn frowned, not liking to remember the state he'd been in by the end. "But all fixed now," she went on, forcing the cheerful tone a bit, but not wanting to dwell on her part in the whole drama.
The coffee machine turned on, Jean returned and dropped back into her chair. "That is... definitely a bad choice on his part," she said. "And I'm glad he's back and good as ever." She smiled slightly. "We shall have to insure he makes better choices in the future, won't we? Can't let him go wandering around and kissing every super villain who wanders across his path." Jean had promised to not tease Hank in front of Madelyn, or let on that she knew he was interested in her, but she was not above a little judicious investigation of her own. Even with the inhibitor on she could see how the woman reacted.
Madelyn blushed faintly. "He was just... lonely," she said, for some reason regretting the words she'd used. Hank wasn't to blame, as foolish as he'd been to be so fooled. "It's hard, for him sometimes. I wish..." Cutting herself off, she changed the subject. "Still, it'll be great to have another pair of hands in the lab. Spread the load, give us more time to work on our own projects without being swamped with physicals and periodic invasions..."
That was promising, Jean decided, having seen the slight blush. She happily let the subject shift. "Of course," she agreed. "I'm surprised Hank and Moira have had the patience for all the patients so far. I know they both prefer research to G.P.ing, and I was always happy to be the school 'nurse' while Hank did his research. How about you? Hank mentioned you're ex-F.B.I., but what's your pet 'project'?"
"I came her with the idea of trying to formulate some sort of standard emergency procedure for mutants that are injured, or at least as standard as you can get with the variety in mutations..." Madelyn shifted a little uncomfortably, sure the idea sounded rather stupid to Jean. "My focus has shifted a bit, lately, though. More the FBI side of things than the medicine. I've been trying to establish links between the team and the Bureau, trying to help the X-Men get some legitimacy after Stryker's attempts to make them outlaws." Unconsciously she wasn't including Jean as an X-Man - something about the woman's fragile state made that difficult.
"Hmm," Jean said, thinking it over. "Yes, I can see how that would be difficult - particularly given most E.M.S. response crews would be unwilling or at least hesitant to help a known mutant." The reference to Stryker overrode anything else she might have noticed from what the other woman said, and the idea that Jean might not be an X-Man anymore never even occurred to her. "Legitimacy... has always been one of our biggest problems," she agreed. "Counter balanced with the recognition that comes from it. Many things we do would be much more difficult with the eyes of the world on us."
"The eyes of the world are already on us - that's what happens when you invite CNN to do a special." Madelyn's tone was wry. "Not that it was advertised the X-Men operated from her, but several of the team gave interviews, and you have to admit, they _are_ very distinctive. What protection you had in secrecy is gone - better to try and show the government you're on the same side."
Jean's eyebrows rose in surprise. "CNN...?" she asked, faintly. "I... hadn't heard that." Pursing her lips, she considered the ramifications of such an event. "You're right, of course. I've always been in favor of having the government look favorably on us. It just... so rarely happens." Her fingers itched to be on the pulse again, to judge the temperature in Washington, but she held back. She was 'dead'. Dead women did not call their friends.
"It's been happening more often than it used to," Madelyn said with a brief smile at the thought of the work that had been going on with the Mistra taskforce. X-Men, government and MacInnis's people all working together to run the bastards to ground. "Charles is working on maintaining a co-operative relationship with the President. He's secured pardons for a number of the residents, including John after his thankfully short career as one of Magneto's Brotherhood."
Jean smiled. "I saw that John's file had been updated since I left. I'm glad he came back. He's a little prick, and loves to rub it in people's noses, but he's a good kid, for all of that."
"He's busy with college, by all accounts - we don't see a lot of him. Keeping out of trouble, though." Madelyn smiled. "It must be strange, finding everyone's moved on while you've been... away."
"You have no idea." It was Jean's turn to be wry.
"No, I suppose I don't." There was a certain amount of sympathy in Madelyn's voice as she considered Jean. So much, all at once. "Well, any help I can be..." She grinned. "Between Alison and I, we've probably got most of the mansion gossip ocvered."
"I think that may have been the biggest shock so far," Jean mused. "Finding that Alison Blair had hung around, had actually joined the staff. Well, I'm sure there will be something more surprising yet..."
"How about the fact she's a team leader now?" Madelyn said, unable to resist the opportunity. Too bad she wasn't drinking anything.
Jean's eyes did widen comically, though, her mouth falling open. "Alison Blair... an X-Man? Team leader...?" She stared at Madelyn, not blinking. "Good God..."
-Ping- went the timer on the percolator and, without blinking, Jean held out her hand, willing the coffee pot to cross the room. Nothing happened. The persistence of the lack of anything to happen was what finally got her to look over, catching sight of the inhibitor on her wrist. "Ah... right," she said, quietly. Standing she smiled at Madelyn. "I'll just... go get the coffee."
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Date: 2005-03-12 04:32 pm (UTC)Tell me I'm not the only one who's tried that when the remote is slightly out of reach. Nice work all around.