2013.03.29 - Tea Clarity

Scott's been known to be broody, but over the past few months now he's taken a turn for the worse. Wherever he goes the news is always on and he seems as though he's there-but never really there. Not just distant-distracted and withdrawn. True to form, he's sitting in the lounge, one leg of his brown trousers brought over the other, wearing a black turtleneck sweater. He props his head by leaning on the side of the chair and cupping the side of his face in splayed fingers.

And Jean has always been Jean. Intelligent, compassionate - even bordering towards the fiercely passionate about a fair few things - and spending most of her waking moments doing *something*. Whether it be teaching, working in her lab, or going on missions with the X-Men, the red-haired psychic was a whirl of activity.

What was less known was that even she enjoyed a bit of downtime. And that downtime often involved tea and television.

The tea in question was Twining's Lady Grey - a package of which was purchased for her as a joke by one of the other X-Men - and she secretely grew a fondness for. The scent of it probably precludes her, Jean Grey stepping into the lounge with a purpose. She was dressed conservatively and professionally at the moment - fitted ladies suit jacket and skirt, both black - white blouse and stockings worn beneath. Her shoes had probably been heels at one point, and not the fuzzy slippers they were now. Eyes turned down at the iPad she was holding, she moves to linger near a table near Scott's brooding position, not quite looking up at the man as she moves. But she does mention, "Hey, Scott. Long night?"

Whether the tea or her presence is noticed before she speaks would not be clear unless she broaches his mind. When she does, however, Scott turns to her as if coming out of a trance. His face splits in a smile and a slow nod. "Hi, Jean," he says flatly. "Yeah, bit of a long night. Although they all seem to be lately." His hand grasps the television remote and he reaches over, turning halfway to slide the remote across the table toward her. "How are you?" The three words could mean any number of things-how is school, how are things with the X-men, or how is life? "You can have it," he says, obviously meaning the remote, "The thing is on a loop this late anyhow."

When he does look at her, Jean lifts her eyes to look towards him, favoring Scott with a wide smile. One hand held the cup of tea that she brings to her lips when he slides the remote over, the other held her tablet. So there were no hands left to pick up the remote. Or were there? The remote lifts up as if a ghost were in the room, a long sip of her tea happening then, her eyes flicking from Scott, to the television. "Thanks," she says then, her eyes returning to Scott. "Were you hoping to see something on the news?" she asks, looking directly towards his hidden gaze, if he was looking to her.

But she wasn't ignoring the question. "Every time you've asked that, I'm never sure if you want to really hear the answer," she says, that smile of hers touching her lips. "But things are going well. How are they going with you?" she asks, canting her head a touch to one side. "Are you getting the things you need to get done, done?"

Scott smiles a bit as the remote pops up into the air. For a split second his mind is warmed with how nice it is to be in a mansion where the use of powers is not frowned upon, but encouraged and celebrated. Though after Genosha things have gotten more sympathetic to their kind, the small move by Miss Grey is a reminder of how things are very different outside the mansion. He shakes his head, "No, really, I just had it on to have it on." He's watched the entire loop 3 times now.

Jean can't be sure, but she'll definitely get the feeling he's returning the gaze. "Jean, I wouldn't ask you if I didn't truly want to know." As she turns the question on him, he stays quiet for a moment. "I'm beginning to sense that the fissure within the team is beginning to grow. As far as things needing to get done, yes. That's the cathartic part. That's the part that I enjoy." Sensing the conversation turning darker at his gloominess, Scott abruptly changes the subject. "I haven't asked you yet how your classes are going this semester. Have you enjoyed teaching?"

Jean takes another sip of her tea as she accepts his answer with kinda a sideways bob of her head, one of the buttons on the remote depressing as she aims it at the television. Another few moments, and the television was switched to the latest reality tournament show, where young people with stars in their eyes sing tunes and/or dance in hope of drawing stardom. The teenager on there right now was going into a rather adoring (and Jean might say they were trying to hard) rendition of 'Lean on Me'. But that was background noise now - the remote slides back towards Scott - to sit itself down beside him in open invitation to change it back if he wants, Jean twisting so that her back is to the pool table, her brow furrowing as she sets the tablet aside, and cradles the tea in both hands.

"Fissures in the team?" she asks, her tone laced with concern. "What do you mean, Scott?" she asks. The dark tilt to his tone changes her smile to a frown, and while he asks about her classes - she lets silence hang in the air a beat too long, before taking a sip of her drink again. "I have," she replies, sounding almost careful, as she draws her touch along the rim of her mug. "I don't quite like holding children that don't want to be there against their will for an hour or two, but I'm enjoying... showing them some amazing things about the world they wouldn't have seen otherwise," she says, with a wink. "Your turn. Do you have any classes this semester?"

"Yeah," Scott replies, answering her final question first. "I'm teaching the middle school and high school civics courses, as well as a physics class, and an automotive class. It keeps me pretty busy." Scott chuckles as a genuine smile comes across his face. "To be honest, I don't really leave here much unless it's on business."

Slowly the smiles slides back over his teeth and he grimaces. "I'm not sure how much you were filled in by the Professor, or through the files, but things for the X-men have gotten tenuous since Mureybet and the Arctic. I'm getting some blowback from folks like Domino. Kurt asked her to talk to me about a month ago, rather than come to my face. Tonight when he wanted to talk, we were cut off." Scott sighs, and doesn't bother to touch the remote. "I'm growing frustrated, Jean. When we were kids, we stood up and fought for mutant rights. Back when it was about 10 times more difficult. Now, as a group of teens came and saved the team, we're getting people who are worried that the kids are being put in harm's way. Perhaps I'm blinded here, but I find the protectionism irritating. What do you think?"

Every word that the man says, is given due attention by Jean Grey, her lips pursing as she nods her head slowly. "We have people who come from all walks of life - and we're expected to work together like clockwork?" she says, a little smile dancing up the corners of her lips. "...I don't think that's going to happen. We just have to remember that we're all working for the same thing in the end." There was a moment further, and she says, "But I'm not sure I understand you when you say Kurt asked her to talk to you; do you mean that he is bypassing you?" she says.

The last thing said cannot help but draw a nostalgic little smile from her. "Back before we knew how the world worked - that's part of the problems of growing up," she says then, lifting her chin. "I think that we were in just as much danger as they are, if not more. And the Professor trusted us back then - why can't we trust them, and support them when we see they need it?" she asks.

Scott shakes his head, "Not bypassing, really. He's just afraid to talk to me about it. Part of me thinks it's cowardice and I don't deal well with that sort of thing." He sighs, and for one of the few times that not many people around these walls get to see, Scott lets his guard down a little bit. "I guess I'm just wondering if the people I trained have weaker wills than we did after the Professor's training. I'm afraid I have trained a soft group." He lifts a finger and a wry grin comes across his face, "I know what you're going to say, but I don't think you'd tell me even if you did agree."

That little smile of hers grows when he lifts his finger. "I thought ~I~ was supposed to be the psychic one. You can't be telling me what I think now," she says then, cradling her cooling mug with both hands again. "I think that you're being too hard on yourself, as you always have, from the time you were in high school," she says, giving her head a little shake. "Holding yourself to such a high standard - but really, Scott. Cowardice? From Kurt?" says Jean, tilting her head just a bit to one side. "You've seen with your own eyes what sort of dangers he, and the rest of us, have put ourselves into."

"I've known you long enough to predict what you're thinking, at least some of the time." Scott mischievous grin grows for a moment before he nods soberly. He doesn't touch the bit about holding himself to high standards. "Maybe you're right. Perhaps I'm just bristling because I'm being critiqued. I probably owe it to him to hear him out and give him the benefit of the doubt."

"I think you do. If nothing else, you owe it to him because you want to stay friends with him, right?" says Jean, lifting up her hand to kinda make a magnimonious gesture. "Even if he and I have become a bunch of softies," she says, with a little laugh. "Would it be okay if I talk with him about it as well? God knows we have enough trouble on our hands, without everyone sniping at each other," she says then, glancing back to him. "We should all start training together again sometime. Like we used to when we were kids."

When Jean mentions the training, there's a pit of something in Scott's stomach that yelps up at him, but he puts it back downward. "Yeah, training would be both beneficial and fun." Scott sighs, "You can talk to him if you wish, but I'd rather you wouldn't. My entire problem with this whole thing is the lack of clarity that comes when people aren't forthcoming. I'd prefer he come talk to me about it face to face. Pretty soon the only people not talking will be the people who actually should be." Scott smiles faintly, 'Thank you, Jean. This conversation has helped me sort out a few things in my head. You've been a big help, like always."