Subtlety At Its Best

Brief Title:
Jean and Logan talk about Seth, and then about other things in the subtlest of ways.

Jean Grey, Logan

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
07/11/12 13:17

Kitchen - Xavier Mansion

Jean and Logan talk about Seth, and then about other things in the subtlest of ways.

Social or Plot:


-----==[ Kitchen - Xavier Mansion ]==-----------------------------------------
A lovely mixture of old and new. A large wooden butcher's block fills the center of this room; a few stools sit beside it, allowing it to function as a breakfast nook. A massive, stainless steel Sub-Zero refrigerator is crammed full of food and set off to the side of the sink and counters. A cornucopia of brass and iron cooking utensils hang from hooks set over the counters and the butcher's block. A great stove with eight burners and two ovens is set into one wall, and any kind of kitchen appliance or utensil you can imagine is either out on the counter awaiting use or hidden away within a drawer or cabinet. The rear wall is actually one giant picture window, looking out over the back of the estate. During the day, this room is filled with the light from the window.

Word travels fast in a mansion filled with teenage mutants, especially if one particular red-head eavesdrops telepathically into the conversation. Finding a way outside of her office, even steps bring her to the kitchen half an hour afterward. A white blouse and charcoal gray pencil skirt give her a sense of professionalism, high-heels clicking against what ever tasteful flooring adorns the foundation. The psychic trail leaves her to believe Logan is already inside, and her smile widens to prove this to be true, as she stands at the doorway waiting for him to look at her. Her expression is placid with 'I know what you did. Thank you,' when he does.

With a spoon in hand and a half-empty bucket of cole slaw on the table before him, Logan is clearly in forage mode as he's already demolished a good portion of that container in the short time he's been in here. But then Jean enters and he looks up, the spoon lowering faintly as his blue eyes find hers. He sees her expression with a smirk of his own and then answers her silent words with a subtle shrug of his own as if to say, 'Hey, whatever.' He waves a hand towards the stool opposite him at that island in the kitchen as he finally lifts his voice. "Busy or got time ta slum it a bit with the likes of us peons?"

A soft chuckle rises from her stomach but it does not release. The stool offer is accepted, and Jean enters the kitchen with a quizzical look given to the bucket of coleslaw as she inches closer. There are no questions, though, and her posterior finds the stool gracefully. "Always with this particular peon," Jean answers jokingly. A drawer to a cabinet nearby opens and a utensil floats out with telekinetic will power, hands grabbing it as she dips it in the bucket. "I figure you already know Scott will not be pleased."

"Mebbe," Logan pushes the container towards her, letting her have as she will. He straightens up in his seat upon the stool and looks across the way, then shifts his eyes back towards her. His voice lifts in that steady rumble of his, "The kid gave me the impression he's the sort that sorta mentally kicks himself over and over when he does somethin' stupid. And besides," He leans forward upon the counter, elbows resting there lightly. "He kinda blows up if ya scare him too much. So there's that." He smirks and looks aside again, letting his thoughts drift. Thoughts that she can at times catch a hint off, just the faint touches of attraction that he's long gotten in the habit of stifling, the memories of that conversation with Seth, a vague restlessness that seems to always hover at the edges of his psyche.

The utensil lifts from the bucket a bit easier when he pushes it towards her, and on it is a decent size portion of slaw. Jean deposits it onto her palate, chews, and then swallows with a 'Hmm'. She listens to Logan talk about the new student and places the spoon down against the table, wiping strands of crimson behind her ears. "He's a wonderful student, if not a bit traumatized," she says, continuing, "But we can work him out of that." His thoughts brush against her mental shielding roughly, embracing the small zephyrs a moment before strengthening her resolve. "You're a good man, Logan. This merely strengthens my point that you should become a full-time instructor for the school."

"Yeah, nah." Logan brushes off that offer as easily as he does the occasional ninja. He keeps his eyes past her for a moment, then brings his attention fully back upon her. He cants his head to the side slightly, "Value my freedom too much n'all that." He waves a rough and calloused hand to the side, "Don't mind doin' a lil of this and a lil of that when it's needed, but my place is out there doin' what I can." A small shrug is given, "Though this whole school marm thing fits you." For a moment there's a wry flicker as she can perhaps catch a hint of his thoughts, just imagery and it'd be considered flattering for her in some circles. Though it's, of course, quickly quashed. "The whole authority thing suits ya."

"Shut up," Jean replies, shaking her head with a smile. She decides to get another bite of slaw with the utensil (which will remain nameless), saying, "I'm still not understanding how Charles was able to do everything without any help. To be honest, I'm a little jealous of him." Her elbows find the counter-top to the island and an open palm collects Jean's chin. "--what do you mean by 'doing what you can'?" Jean adds, a slight curiosity peaking through her shielding.

"Ehn, Chuck had help, from all of us. Just like you got all of us helping you. Though he did have this sort of way of making it all seem effortless." Logan smirks and hops off the stool, turning around and starting to walk across the distance towards the refrigerator and yanking its door open. From within she'll hear his voice, faintly reverberating off the interior of the fridge and muffled by the steady droner of the cooler. "And you know me, I'm out there doing my thing." He straightens up, having claimed a beer from inside and twists the cap off with a turn of his wrist. "The less ya know the better, darlin'." And as he says this she might get some faint images from what was done with the Mutant Growth Hormone pushers that were recently taken down, flickers of disturbing images with those children locked into the devices that extracted from them. He quickly shifts his thoughts away, knowing she can get the surface flickers. He waves his hand, the bottle gesturing slightly. "Anyways. Every school needs its janitor ta clean up the messy bits." He smirks a bit, but there's no humor in the smile.

"Effortless is probably an understatement." Memories from the past flood through Jean's mind scape, reminding her of her time as a student. Bobby, Warren, Hank, and Scott filter through her mind, until Logan's movement catches her attention and shifts awareness back to reality. With his body halfway encased in fridge, Jean gives him a look from head to toe, admiration peaking and a sensation she should not feel slowly rising. "You sound like one of those rappers the kids listen to. 'Doing your thing'?" she repeats, her telepathy sprawling for attention and collecting the images of the children. Jean straightens after that, an index finger going to the temple of her head to steady concentration. "I--" Hesitation. Control! "I guess so. How has that side of your life been? Seems like you've been around more often than not."

"Of late," Logan then remembers his manners and tilts the bottle in Jean's direction, as if offering it to her. He awaits her answer before he either takes a sip of it himself or gives it on over. "Got stuck in the city when all hell broke loose, literally. Then had ta finish tracking down a few people. Got that settled, though Cyke's prolly gonna follow up with the Avengers some." Logan waves a hand to the side then, gesturing as if brushing away his own words as trivial. "In any case, all of it kinda put me in the mindset that mebbe I should be around homebase for a week or so, just in case."

Jean declines the second offer, shaking a free index finger and thumb. Her position shifts just slightly, her 'controlling' fingers still against the temples of her head and her chin back in its palm. Eyes close for a couple of seconds in somewhat of a dreary display. "As you should be," she says, a bit awkwardly in her current position. "I miss seeing you." Her heart beats faster than usual, continuing, "We all do."

Over the lip of the beer, Logan studies her for a time and she'll get the sense that he's more aware of her in that bare moment. Yet Logan is a man who knows how to order his thoughts, having lived a good portion of his life amongst telepaths. His gaze will rest on her for a time, then his nostrils flare faintly. He takes a breath and then turns to look aside. One eye scrunches up as he murmurs in that rumbling tone of his, "Well, sometimes..." Logan looks back at her and tilts a small smile, just a ghost of one. "S'good ta be seen." It's a bare moment, just some silence between them. A moment that lingers, then is broken as he sets the bottle down upon the island with a resonant glassy clink. He lifts his chin and gestures towards the doorway. "In any case, I should head out. Got some things to do." A lie, or at least they're not things he /must/ do, but she can sense that faint prevarication there in those words.

Hands lay flat against the island as a sense of control is met, and Jean looks up to Logan with a small tilt to her head. She notices the difference in his demeanor, and a strange feeling of 'knowing' creeps up the spine of her back. A nod goes to his comment and then she looks away from him, similarly to what he does to her. It is a few seconds of silence that the clink from his bottle interests her and she turns back to face him. "Of course you do," Jean replies with a faint grin, lifting herself from the stool and onto heels. "Thank you again, Logan... for Seth." For everything. She can't find the courage to say the latter.

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