Breakfast at Jean's

May 09, 2015:

Logan makes breakfast for Jean while a situation develops in Japan.

Jean Grey's Office

Jean Grey's office has a comfortable feel, lived in, the office of a person who actually does work and doesn't merely sit at a desk for show. Nonetheless, it is lushly appointed, by any measure, as a sign of her status and her taste for fine things.

The shelf-lined walls brim with books of every type, spine after leather-bound spine. Despite the definite diversity, psychology, education and medicine seem to be the strongest subjects. Her rosewood desk almost spans the width of the room, separating her from anyone in the check-upholstered guest chairs. She sits on supple, dark red leather, the chair a bit overlarge to allow her the pleasure of lounging. She usually keeps the blinds open, in sunlight or storm, and will open the window when weather permits. A large, antique lamp sits on one corner of the desk, a Tiffany's piece with coloured glass, art deco vintage and a gift from Jean's mother.

A large blotter, trimmed in green, takes up much of her desk. She has the required calendar, pen-marked in black and red, appointments, revisions and notations scrawled everywhere in her looping, ornate script. Multiple teacups, one almost always full, along with a portable, self-brewing pot, to save her a trip down to the kitchen, and an array of teas to her taste stacked alongside. She has the usual cup of pens, rulers, paperclips and the like, and the in/out trays every academic can't do without. There's almost always a stack of homework, waiting to be graded, not to mention other administrative matters.

Jean's office reflects her responsibility, her dedication and her importance to Xavier's academy. If Jean is, as some say, the school's heart, then this office is one of its chambers from which her lifeblood flows out to the people to whom she has dedicated so much of her life.


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Some X-Men were social creatures. They bonded, they hung out, they opened up, shared their feelings, their lives, their experiences. And then there were the ones like Logan. He'd been around, but practically invisible of late. There was a rumour floating around with the students that he got hurt pretty badly on one of his walkabouts. Something about a stop sign being shoved through his chest, but since most of them had learned that he had an adamantium skeleton, few believed it could be true. Besides, even with his healing factor, could he really survive something like that?

So when Logan wandered into Jean's open doorway, it was still incredibly early. The sun hadn't even come up yet, and his arrival may have come as a surprise. But before he could even begin, something attached to his belt chirped. It looked like a phone, though there was this odd grey on darker grey eagle pattern. Picking it up, Logan says, "yeah?" There's a pause, "ETA?" he seems to nod to whomever he's speaking to, "do you?" he asks, another pause. "Understood, let me know if that changes." And then the phone conversation ends. He puts the phone back where it was.

The odd thing is that during that whole conversation, he was carrying a tray of food. It looked like he'd made a full English breakfast, with bacon, eggs, just the way she likes them, grilled tomatoes, fried mushrooms, sourdough toast, ham, sausage, baked beans, and a glass of orange juice, extra pulp. "Morning Jean." He knew she was up and that she was here. He could tell by scent.

There were times Jean slept like the dead and no one could wake her. And there were times that she was awake and no one could do anything to get her to sleep. These were one of those times. The night was spent really, helping the cleaning staff with their duties, dolling out conversations that mattered to her even though she tried to pretend it didn't. Laughing, listening to words from the men and women who sought advice and giving -some- advice that had to do with what she's learned from cooking over the years.

If Logan could smell her scent now? It'd probably be laced with the smells of lime, cherry, and some obscure cleaning solution that most of the cleaning companies employed by Xaviers would bring. The high powered industrial stuff could even get mutant slime from the carpets.

But there? In her office, she was reading a file, glasses tugged down upon her nose, lips pursed and puckered as she rocked back and forth within her chair, her gaze lifted as Logan approaches with… is… is that sausage?

But it was the conversation that grabbed her, not the food within his hand. Perhaps this was something more interesting other than the fact that…

… "Did you cook that?" She asks, as soon as his conversation was over. "That looks delicious. Good morning Logan." The file was soon dropped, her hand reaching out to gesture towards the chair opposite her.

Logan set the tray down in front of her, letting her deal with the napkin and the utensils. Although he did know how to make a swan, lobster, turkey, rabbit, and other things out of a napkin, today he had settled for a simple rose, which of course went with the napkin, as it was burgundy in colour. "Yeah, might of overcooked the bacon though. I couldn't remember, do you like it crispy?" Logan was a weird one when it came to bacon. He liked his almost undercooked. He liked the taste of bacon, and when you overcook it, it loses all the taste.

He takes the offered seat, and rests his elbow on the table. "I thought you might like a home cooked meal." Glancing at the file folder, "isn't it a bit early fer that? You should be in that nice comfy bed o' yours." Logan's always been a bit of an odd one in that regard. Maybe it's the healing factor, but he never slept for long unless he was injured. When healthy, he was the first one up, and usually the last one to head to bed.

But then a different phone, one in his back pocket, began to ring. This one had another symbol on it, one Jean probably didn't recognise, and Logan spoke in Japanese. If she used her powers to read his mind, she'd learn that there was something going on near Korsakov. Something about a monster, and a guy named Shiro is asking if Logan can get there in the next 32 hours. "Sorry about that darlin', how're the eggs?"

The napkin was the first thing she grabbed, a gentle smile appearing upon her lips as she twirls it with her fingers, leaning a little to the left to place it into an empty, small vase that was placed for decoration. One of the college girls made it for her, to show off her glass making techniques. A gift she readily accepted, of course! And then there was the utensils, all drawn and separated neatly as she takes a fork and knife to cut through the eggs. Weird of course, but it was soon mixed and mingled as she draws her eyes up towards Logan. "Bacon is bacon. I like it any way it's cooked."

Truth, it was spoken right then and there.

"But you mean a home cooked meal that I didn't do myself." She points out, separating the food in even portions so that he could join her in the meal if he chooses. Though, she shakes her head, this time using her fingers to take a slice of bacon to take a quick bite. "It's never too early for work. I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd clean everything out before Monday for a fresh start."

She grows silent then as another conversation happens right in front of her. She didn't want to pry, but some of these things couldn't be helped. And he would know that she was prying too, by the way she squints and furrows her brow. As soon as he hangs up, she draws back just enough to retain her comfortable stature.

"Didn't try them yet. But two things. Did you really get impaled by a stop sign and… who is that man you were speaking to?"

Logan didn't bring a set of utensils for himself, and while he has no problem with eating with his hands, he decided to wait on that, curious to see how she'd respond to the predicament. Nodding his head as she mentions cleaning, "that explains the smell," and he taps his nose, "like a bloodhound." He knows that she's been cleaning, probably even knows which products she used, and even has a good idea of when she last showered. Sometimes it's a blessing, but other times it's a curse. He's still trying to get the stink from Corvinus out of his nose.

"No," he answers back to her question. Yeah, he's a man with details, "and that was a friend of mine in Japan. Seems they picked up something about a giant green monster heading their way. But S.H.I.E.L.D. are already on it. I might head out to join 'em. I've never fought Godzilla before. I'm kinda hoping it is Godzilla, but it's probably more like that thing from the Broderick film." Wow, Logan knows pop culture? He may not be as much of a dinosaur as he claims to be.

And leaning back in the chair, he adds, "I had a stop sign shoved into my chest, just under my rib cage. Didn't go all the way through. My bones stopped it. Hurt like hell." He even lifts up his shirt to show where it's still healing. But considering bone stopped it, and how recently it was, it's almost entirely healed. There's just a round circle of discoloured flesh where the pole of the sign went into him.

Jean squints a little, a smile curling her lips as she stares right at his nose. "That's… a bit weird." She confesses, but it was no more weird than what goes on around the school, before hours and after. She dives into the eggs which were cooked to perfection, the little joy of it spreading across her features, taking her time to savour the taste as she draws out a decent sized scoop to carefully turn and twist the handle of the fork for him to take. "Try it." She murmurs.

Though the mention of S.H.I.E.L.D. has her cringing, the need to ask further gives birth to a new line of questioning. She swallows her food down first, taking up the glass of orange juice to drink, a sip here and there, which was offered towards Logan to share. "I think Mothra would be an interesting beast to fight. Judging from the movies, it's highly intelligent." She smirks a little, then clears her throat. "Do you trust S.H.I.E.L.D., though?"

Once Logan lifts up his shirt, she stands a little, leaning forward to press hands to the desk to peer towards the 'wound'. It was almost gone, but evidence was still there that it had happened, which makes her quietly wonder how in the world did /that/ rumour start to circulate around the school. Maybe Logan was recruiting from within. Good deal. He had the makings of a leader in his own rugged ways.

"Christ. Ever try ducking, bub?" Little jokes.

The mouthful is eagerly accepted, and Logan tastes it from her offered fork. "Mmm, it's good." High praise indeed. Logan doesn't like to toot his own horn, and he doesn't praise others too often either. But that stops when she cringes at the mention of S.H.I.E.L.D. He'll share her orange juice as well, curious what might be coming. He can read body language, and hers is screaming at him.

"I don't trust groups. I trust people. And there are some good ones in S.H.I.E.L.D., we go back a ways." Yeah, secret organisation. But then, Logan's never been much one for keeping that kind of thing secret from his friends. "I didn't know you were into Kaiju movies. We should go see them sometime. There's a place in the city that runs marathons of them."

As for the rumour, with that many telepaths in the mansion, plus he might have used some of the school's medical supplies, at least to clean up the blood, well, it's easy to see how that kind of thing might spread. Knocking his head, "well, at the time I was jumping off of a school bus. He used it as a poleaxe."

Jean lets out a little laugh as he takes the eggs from her fork, then returns to eating her own portions, keeping her gaze planted upon the plate as she gives a slight bob of her head. "Understood. But with a large group such as S.H.I.E.L.D., its often times hard for an individual of said group to not take on the mannerisms of the corporation as a whole." Beans. They were tasted, but left in their spot. She wasn't a real fan of beans. But they were delicious.

"They were a thing in the family. Godzilla, where there's a guy in a nicely made dinosaur suit bashing up cities made of Lego and paper…" She laughs a little, then settles back into her chair, listening to the story of the bus and.. pole arm. "And.. knowing you, everyone who was on the bus was safe, or… there was possibly no one on the bus at all…" She surmises, jokingly of course. "But I do wonder if this has anything to do with the Smooth epidemic that's spreading around our communities. You've…" She didn't know how to say it, without being accusing. "You've been absent as of late. And I'd like to think that you watch enough news and keep up with us to know what's going on, right?"

Part of Logan wonders if he should tell Jean he used to be a full member, and is now a contract agent, which basically means he comes and goes as he pleases, but got removed from the mailing list. Logan went to a lot of work on those beans, adding some spices, some bacon fat for taste, and a few other tricks.

"Oh no, this ain't got anything to do with the Smooth. This was personal." And the way Logan says that, it suggests he had a history with the guy who shoved the stop sign into him. "I lost him… but I'll catch up with him sooner or later. I owe him." And the way he says that would suggest he'd like to slice and dice the man into the tiniest of portions.

"I do, but… you knew I was a globe trotter when you met me. I got things to do, people to see. We'll have to do this again, but, I should be going. Gotta get to Japan."

Blarg. Beans were creamy and weird. But Jean doesn't let him know that. She continued to work upon the food that was there, shovelling food into her mouth which looked almost like a show of politeness by the way she dabs her lips occasionally with the spare napkin that wasn't made into a rose. Her eyes lift briefly as he mentions it being personal, the fork soon set aside as she reaches for a piece of bacon to offer towards Logan in a show of generosity.

Words could bring out certain emotions within a person, anyone knows that. So it wasn't surprising to see that she narrowed her eyes briefly at the mention of a debt, but then lightens as she settles back within her chair in order to push herself to a stand. "You have my help if you need it, Logan. And even though it may not need to be said, but you take care of yourself out there. Okay?" She rounds the desk to approach the door, leaning against it to close it after he leaves. "Just call me, and I'll be there. And next time, I'll cook for you instead." Hopefully, he could fill her in upon this Japan business. She'd love to at least see the sights for a little while.

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