xp_logs | Hank, Maddie, Tuesday Night (Reply)

Madelyn is working desperately on coordinating as much as she can of the mission at hand against Mistra, and Hank comes up to help as best he can, by bringing her food and giving her a few minute's distraction. They talk about Jubilee, and Amanda, and are cautiously optimistic about the former, at least.

Hank tapped on the door to Maddie's suite, balancing the tray on one hand. She had to have been incredibly busy, doing her liasing thing with the Mistra stuff, as far as he knew she hadn't even peeked out of her suite today... so he'd brought hot tea, sandwiches, and the rest of the banana bread. Because she was like him and sometimes forgot silly unimportant things like food. "Madelyn?" he called softly. "Have you fallen asleep on your keyboard?"

"Hmm?" Madelyn had not, in fact, fallen asleep - she was deeply involved in going through the list of taskforce members going on this mission, looking for any obvious issues with teaming them with MacInnis' people. "Door's open, Hank," she replied absently, scrolling down. She was on the couch, laptop on her lap and her feet on the coffee table, papers spread over every surface around her.

Hank opened the door and slid himself and the tray around it, closing it again behind him. "I brought tea. And food. Since I suspected you hadn't gotten around to dinner. Or possibly lunch, either, if you're anything like me that way." He smiled at her, wafting steam at her enticingly. "Can you spare a few minutes to refuel?"

She looked up at him, blinking over the top of her glasses. "Dinner?" she asked, confused, and then checked the clock at the top of her laptop's screen. "Nine-thirty? When did... never mind." With a grateful smile she set aside her laptop and took her sock-clad feet off the table, looking at the mess with a bit of a daunted expression. "Ah. Give me a sec?"

"Of course." He smiled. "You tidy, I'll pour." He set the tray down on a small table that hadn't been snowed under yet, and did so. "Would you prefer to keep your mind on the business at hand, or to be distracted for a little while? I can go either way. I'm very flexible conversationally."

"Distraction works. I've been going over this stuff so long my brain's about to start dribbling out my ears," Madelyn said with a wry grin, getting up and collecting pieces of paper from the couch and then the coffee table, gathering them into a loose stack. She was dressed casually in her favourite old faded jeans and a black t-shirt with 'FBI' across the chest in big yellow letters, her hair a mass of loose curls. "And I'd appreciate company that doesn't beep at me - my email's been running insane since last night."

"Company and distraction I can do. I even have, I think, a little portion of good news." He smiled, setting the tray on the cleared coffee-table and solemnly handing her her cup and saucer. And keeping the mournful sighs over how pretty she looked all rumpled strictly internal. "Jubilee and I have talked a couple of times, and I think productively. I don't know if you've been keeping up with the journals..."

A faintly guilty looked crossed Madelyn's face. "Um, no, not really. I've been so busy..." The tea was good, really good, and her stomach growled abruptly, as if reminded food was a good thing. "And it's good, that she's been talking to you. She doesn't open up much."

"She and I bonded a little when I was... unwell," Hank said, hearing the rumble and nudging the plateful of sandwiches closer to her. "I... think it gave me a certain insight, actually. She was very sympathetic and understanding when I got confused, and... well. I remember being both frightened and angry when things confused me, then. Especially people. It made me feel very much the way Jubilee sometimes behaves. So I gave her a book I located in the library. A very trite, rather antiquated tome entitled 'Miss Kitty Makes Friends'." He smiled ruefully. "It's a book on manners and playing nicely with others. I thought it might help. She seemed appreciative."

It was possibly a bad thing Madelyn had a mouthful of sandwich then, because she nearly choked at the mention of the book. Swallowing carefully, she took another sip of tea to wash the sandwich down. "Oo-kay," she said, considering it. "You know, that's actually a pretty good idea. There's so much we assume she knows, and then something happens..." Another guilty look, this one stronger. "Including me. I can't believe I didn't think of that - you're a genius, Hank."

"Hey, I've known her for years, and I didn't think of it either until I found myself in the same situation." He reached over to pat her hand gently. "She covers for it - and very well, too. Which is another thing that we talked about. I promised to explain anything that confused her, if I could, and I do hope she takes me up on it." He sighed. "She immediately put what I told her into practice, and posted a journal entry asking why not everyone was overflowing with unadulterated glee at Jean's return... not in those words, mind you. She said that she was happy that Jean was back, but that other people weren't reacting the way she'd expected, and she wanted to know why. Complex emotional responses seem to be one of the major areas where she gets confused. The response wasn't quite all that I'd hoped for, for her first 'I'm going to admit that I don't get this and ask someone to explain it to me' attempt."

"Don't tell me - everyone jumped on her and told her she was being insensitive again?" Madelyn sighed a little. "Poor kid - she tries so hard. How'd she take it?"

"Not a whole lot of jumping... Scott didn't take it well, though, for reasons obvious to you and me but not necessarily to her... but not a resoundingly positive response either. And one or two suggestions that she should keep this sort of thing private, rather than making the question general. She was pretty upset." He sipped his own tea. "I went and talked to her about it, though... I told her I was proud of her for making the effort, and reassured her that she didn't do anything wrong - she was confused, and she asked for an explanation. That's a good thing. I also gave her a hug. I think she felt a bit better about it afterwards." He smiled. "She told me she wasn't going to give up the tactic, anyway."

"That's a relief." Madelyn finished the sandwich and reached for a piece of banana bread. "It's strange, you know? The journals were created to foster communication and yet most of the time they're used to tell people to shut up." Then her attention was caught by the goodness that was the banana bread. "Wow, did Lorna make this? It's very good."

"Actually, I did." Hank preened. "The recipe is my mother's, but I baked it. It's very low-fat and all-natural - no processed sugar, and so on - so I thought Lorna would like it. But I saved some for my other friends." He leaned back, sipping his tea. "I'm hoping that once it gets through to the student body in general that she really doesn't understand these things, instead of being deliberately insensitive or dense about them, that they'll be less inclined to yell at her." He sighed. "She's.... the best description I can come up with for the problem is that she's very young for her age, in some ways. I think so, anyway, I may be wrong."

"I don't think you are - the same thing's occurred to me. She's so old in some ways, had to be, to survive on the streets, but in others..." Madelyn looked contemplative. "Yes, that makes sense. The lack of emotional development, the tendency towards anger... And she hasn't endeared herself to the student body in the past - it's going to be a long tough road for her." Reaching over to pat Hank's arm gently, Madelyn smiled. "I'm glad she's got another friend to help her. I'm not always exactly available lately. And you seem to be able to reach her, much better than I can, sometimes."

"I told her she could always come to either of us, if she wanted something explained, and that we wouldn't laugh or get mad." He smiled at her, covering the hand on his arm with his, just for a moment. "And I'm glad we finally have some common ground... and I wish it hadn't taken me feeling very confused and angry, and her understanding completely, to realize that that was how she felt too."

"Sometimes we need the figurative kick in the ass to tell us what we need to know - and at least we _do_ know now. Forewarned is forearmed and all that." Her glance flickered despite herself to the stack of paperwork. Did they have enough warning on what they were going into? It seemed too easy still. "And I'm glad you told her she could ask me - no doubt there's some things you'd prefer not to have to explain, like the niceties of putting out." She chuckled a little. "Although we've already had that conversation."

"Given the nature of her issues with Amanda, I'm going to assume that she knows that bit." Hank grinned a little. "And yes, I would rather not have to give her The Talk, although of course I would if it were required. Speaking of Amanda... she spoke up in defense of Jubilee's post. And said that I'd made good points in the response in which I tried to explain the matter a bit. Given that I don't think she's any fonder of me than she is of Jubilee, I was rather surprised... and pleased."

"Amanda's another of those very young and very old kids," Madelyn said wryly. "And Lord knows we've butted heads enough on occasion. She's made it pretty clear she doesn't like doctors, or cops, or doctors who used to be cops. But she does have a certain fairness - if she recognises she's wrong, she generally admits it. Sometimes a little more readily than she'll admit she's right."

Hank nodded. "I was impressed... although she and Jubilee haven't always gotten along, she didn't stand by and let Jubilee be criticized for admitting her ignorance and asking for help." He nudged the plate of sandwiches towards her again, since she hadn't eaten nearly a meal's worth yet. "I wish I could make up for my mistakes with Amanda... I'm just glad that Jubilee didn't take my well-intentioned interference the same way." He smiled ruefully. "I poke my nose in a lot, I admit. I blame it on the medical training - I see problem, I wish to fix. And sometimes I'd be better off leaving well enough alone."

"And I think this is one of those cases where you might have to accept that's exactly what you have to do," Madelyn said, rolling her eyes slightly as she picked up another sandwich. "Amanda's got plenty of people looking out for her, Hank, people she listens to. You keep pushing, you'll only push her further away. And make her resent you even more. And I rather suspect her standing up for Jubilee was her way of letting people know that sometimes she's in the same place." She grinned at him a trifle affectionately. "You can't solve all the problems in the world, Hank. Sometimes you have to leave some for others to play with."

"I know. And I promised Amanda that I'd stay out of her life. But Jubilee doesn't have the same resources that Amanda does, and I'm glad she didn't mind me trying to help." He smiled. "She's such a sweet kid, sometimes... and then she turns around and throws a temper-tantrum that would do a three-year-old proud. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was some sort of teenager or something." He winked at Madelyn. "I like them, but I am SO glad I never have to go through that stage again."

"You and me both," Madelyn chuckled. "God... zits, raging mood swings, trying to figure just what the hell boys want without your father locking you in a chastity belt. And that's on a good day. Still, we both made it through relatively unscathed - maybe us two old fogies can impart some wisdom on Jubilee?"

"We can positively drown her in it. Or, at the least, we can try to reassure her that she doesn't have to hide her problems." Hank nodded. "And you should try adolescence from the boy's side." He grinned reminiscently. "I recall twelve to fifteen being the most agonizingly, scathingly embarrassing period of my entire life. Squeaking voice, awkward growth-spurts, the Mystery of Girls, body-parts acting independently, zits, sweating.... I could go on, but it might bring on a flashback."

"However did we both survive to become the brilliant, well-adjusted, amazing people we are today?" Madelyn asked rhetorically with a laugh. "God, the pair of us working on her... Jubilee will either love us to death of flee for the hills."

"Sheer determination and force of will, I expect." Hank grinned. "Which Jubilee also has in spades, so see? We all have something in common already. And if she flees for the hills, at least we stand a chance of luring her back with candy before the other teachers find out. Some of the others don't go for the sugar, as strange as I know that seems."

"They don't? How terrible!" Madelyn widened her eyes in mock-horror. "Born without a sweet tooth, what an awful thing!" The effort of maintaining the serious face was too much, given she was running short of sleep, and she collapsed into giggles.

Hank giggled too. "I know. It's a tragic, heartbreaking disability. I weep for them, I truly do." He sighed, putting his hand over his heart. "But they don't really know what it is that they've lost, and for that we can all be grateful... it means there's more for the rest of us!"