Tessa and Jean-Paul
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ax_mainTessa and Jean-Paul hold another meeting of their dinner club. Jean-Paul admits to having made a decision about his sports career.
It was Jean-Paul's turn to cook, and he was ruling over the kitchen like a lifelong tyrant. Tessa had been warned that she was utterly and completely banished until he was finished, but she was more than welcome to set up the picnic in their usual spot.
Though unconvinced her friend actually possessed the discretion to bar her from the kitchen area, Tessa elected to respect Jean-Paul's wishes, and left him to create undisturbed. She occupied her time with setting up their dining area, beneath the towering boughs of the tree where they'd first met. The days were growing cooler, and soon their opportunities for outings on the grounds such as this one would disappear, until spring came again. It was only reasonable to make the most of such pleasant evenings as remained.
She'd set out a quilt for them to sit upon, secured at the corners with four sizable, round-sided stones to keep it stationary. Their plates and cutlery had been set with a minute attention to detail, and there was a small centerpiece of wildflowers in-between. Now all that remained was to wait, and the cyberpath passed the time exploring some of the more esoteric functions of her cellular phone.
Jean-Paul finally flitted over, their traditional picnic hamper in-hand. He appeared satisfied with himself as he settled at her side.
"I hope you're not counting calories. This is not going to be light fare."
The cyberpath arched an eyebrow. "I always count calories," she told him. "I track all of the most significant variables which affect my body--and, by extension, my efficiency. However, increasing the intensity of my fitness regimen over the rest of the week should address any excess indulgence on my part tonight." She gestured toward the place she had set for him across from her. "Please."
"As if you'll need it. With all the extra energy everyone here burns through just being a mutant, I don't think Weight Watchers is needed at all."
Determined that they were going to do this with all due honor to the food, Jean-Paul plated the appetizer first: poutine. The fries were cut thick, almost wedges, and still warm enough that the mix of duck gravy and fresh cheese curds was at a satisfying melt.
"Dig in," he advised. "Once it gets cold, it's just a loss."
"Understood," she said, helping herself to a modest portion before cutting into one of the sectioned potatoes. "Delicious," she judged, once the first bite had gone down. "If somewhat outside my experience."
"Poutine is the national snack of Canada," Jean-Paul assured her. "Anyone who tries to sell you on anything else does not have your best interests at heart." He'd polished off his portion within a couple of minutes, taking obvious enjoyment in it. "It doesn't hurt that it's a calorie bomb either."
"I shall defer to your greater understanding of the regional foodstuffs of choice, where North America is concerned. My expertise lies in another hemisphere entirely." Still, she sat forward, with perhaps just a bare hint of eagerness; Tessa was new to this kind of luxury, but she had found it very much to her liking, so far. "What is next?"
The flash of anticipation on Tessa's face was immensely satisfying, and it fed into Jean-Paul's showmanship. He quickly wiped down the plates with a handful of paper towels, then took out the next round of Tupperware. Excellent, still warm.
"So now we go from lowbrow to highbrow." He dished out precise portions of meat, fragrant mashed potatoes, and greens. "Stuffed saddle of rabbit, lemon mashed potatoes, and sauteed dandelion greens with bacon. Not specifically Canadian, but it's often on the menu at Raymonde's bistro."
Though her face retained most of its usual, stoic cast, there was little mistaking the unabashed interest that lit Tessa's eyes. "I am tempted to admonish you for putting too much effort into a single meal for a friendly acquaintance," she said. "But I cannot quite bring myself to do so. And so I will simply note that you have outdone yourself once again, Jean-Paul. Bon apétit." She sampled the greens first, and her neutral mask melted for a few moments in sheer pleasure.
"Says the woman who cooked me five dishes at once." Jean-Paul cut into his rabbit, smiling in satisfaction as much as anticipation.
"Multitasking is a simple thing, given my capabilities," she returned, following his lead to sample the meat portion of the entree. "And nothing I prepared was nearly so elaborate." She smiled as the rabbit practically melted in her mouth--a genuine smile, rather than the brief, flickering expressions she more often displayed. "Or so flavorful," she added.
Jean-Paul swallowed his mouthful. "I'd definitely debate with you on flavorful," he protested. "I'm not showing off here. I'm just matching you."
One dark brow rose. "You will debate with me? I know you are mostly fearless, Jean-Paul, but some things should give even you pause." She sampled the mashed potatoes then, eyes narrowing to slits as enjoyment fairly radiated from her normally-composed posture. "And I will concede readily that I am outmatched. My abilities allow me to mechanically reproduce recipes I have encountered, but I lack the necessary foundation to improve upon them. In contrast, I suspect even your foster-father would be impressed with this meal."
"He'd probably be more impressed with the meal than he is with me, anyway. We haven't spoken since I left." Well, save for the text Jean-Paul had sent to let him know he'd arrived safely. And that didn't count, really.
Tessa frowned, though she continued to eat; it wouldn't do to allow such a refined meal to go cold. "That is not well, Jean-Paul. You should, I think, at least give him an opportunity to understand. And it is not as though you lack for options, if you think your speed is not sufficient; Clarice or Illyana, I'm sure, would be more than happy to transport you there. And immediately back again, if events do not unfold to your liking."
"Ugh, no. I don't need witnesses." Jean-Paul finished cleaning his plate, then looked back to the hamper. The topic of his homelife, such as it were, was apparently off the table. "Dessert?"
She inclined her head in the affirmative. "You are my friend, so I will not press you. I ask only that you consider it." The cyberpath straightened slightly. "All that aside, I am very interested to see what you have prepared as a follow-up."
Jean-Paul all but dove for the hamper again, obviously more than pleased leave the current topic where it was. "This is as close as I come to baking," he said by way of explanation. "I'm pretty sure it's all dark magic, but at least when it comes to clafoutis, it's pretty hard to mess up."
He unveiled a thin, flat pastry that resembled, more than anything else, the offspring of a fruit tart and a berry pancake: a golden brown disk, crispy at the edge, and smelling sweetly of the cherries baked into it.
"I have observed you have a marked tendency toward excessive criticism, where your own abilities are concerned," she said, holding out her plate in obvious invitation. "That being the case, I seem to have no other choice than to enjoy your baking much more overtly than I might otherwise be inclined. It is not a concession I would afford to many."
"I'm honored." Jean-Paul cut her a generous slice of fragrant dessert, then refilled her water glass. "And now that we've taken the edge off, how's your life going?"
"None of my particular complaints seem worth mentioning," she admitted. "I am acclimating as well as I anticipated. Interestingly, an acquaintance of mine recently arrived at the school, as well. I am attempting to assist him with the adjustment" Her expression grew wry. "It is a position I never imagined I would occupy. But I will do the best I can."
Tessa slid her fork into the side of her portion of the clafoutis, asking, "And you?"
"All right, I guess?" Jean-Paul helped himself to a slice of dessert, considering. "My love life is still way more complicated than I ever expected it to be here. I've got two not-boyfriends now." He took a bite. "This acquaintance of yours... is that the new kid who was asking Billy to find him a gun?"
Her brow furrowed. "All the romantic entanglements I have observed thus far seem to be complicated," she said. "But the scenario you describe seems an order of magnitude more so. I wish you all good fortune navigating those relationships, and will be available should my input be desirable."
She gave a wave at the other question that might have indicated anything, really. "Trowa is accustomed to a very different mode of life. It will take some time for him to adapt. And there are certain measures that, while practical to the point of being obvious in his previous life, are unnecessary here. Still, it is normal to fall back on the familiar when one's situation changes so radically."
"I'm wondering what my new criteria for 'normal' is when the idea of a student wanting a gun is one of the less dangerous options around here," Jean-Paul mused. He took a bite of clafoutis, savoring the sweetness. "But I think Xavier's right to ask you to help this Trowa guy. You're good at reaching out to people. You're not someone to sink back into the familiar."
Tessa blinked, surprised despite herself both by the compliment and the flash of pleasure it gave her to be so regarded. "I had never considered it a particular skill," she told him honestly. "I tend to view my actions in terms of necessity and what is practically achievable. But I thank you, nevertheless. I am pleased to be so regarded."
"You do it all yourself," Jean-Paul assured her. "I'm glad you decided to pester me that day."
"As am I," she said, after another bite of the sumptuous dessert Jean-Paul had prepared. "I have found our relationship extremely rewarding, thus far, and trust it will continue to be so. Though the broadening of your social horizons may limit our opportunities for interludes such as this one."
"You mean my dating life?" Jean-Paul laughed at that. "I'll need to take a break from it now and then, non?"
"Your sister is also now present on campus full-time," Tessa pointed out. "And you have other acquaintances. I suspect your time will soon be in very high demand."
"More than you think," Jean-Paul confessed. "I had a good talk with Tommy at the party. I've decided I'm going to grow a pair and throw my hat into the ring when it comes time for the winter sports season to start. I'll be as careful as I can, but I'm not going to put my life on hold just because I'm a mutant."
"I see," she said, expression unchanged, save for a very slight arching of one brow. Then Tessa shrugged. "If this is the decision you have reached, then I am confident you have weighed all the relevant factors and potential outcomes with appropriate diligence. Still, I will observe your return to the public eye with extreme care, if largely for my own peace of mind." She offered a reserved smile. "Good luck."
"Merci. I think I'll be needing it." Jean-Paul sighed. "Well, we'll see how it goes, hmm?"
"That we shall. And will adjust our expectations accordingly." She took another thoughtful bite of the dessert he had so expertly prepared. "I am pleased you have found a confidant you trust. I have offered my services in a similar role to some of the other students, but they seem generally mistrustful of my abilities." And possibly her motives, but that was only prudent.
"Somehow, I don't think you're planning to out me," Jean-Paul said. "And that's the only thing I'd be worried about. The rest of my life's been pretty well examined."
"Revealing your genetic status would lead to sub-optimal outcomes at this time," she agreed, with a trace of wry humor. "Do you anticipate Jeanne-Marie being subject to similar scrutiny? I do not think her temperament would be readily compatible with that sort of attention." This time, Tessa's voice contained only seriousness. And perhaps some concern.
"She'll be here. I'm not planning on dragging her into the spotlight with me."
"That seems wise," Tessa nodded. "Though I imagine she might on occasion wish to cheer you on in person, rather than on camera." Perhaps one of the image-inducers could be adapted. Or perhaps she was being excessively cautious. Nevertheless, the cyberpath preferred to eliminate unnecessary risk factors whenever possible.
"That's a conversation she and I will need to have." Jean-Paul put his empty plate down. "It feels good to have made the decision, though. I've got one direction to work toward."
"I find the feeling of being without a sense of purpose extremely disconcerting, as well," she agreed, finishing her own pastry much more slowly. "Though I did not doubt you would find yours, once you had weighed the options available to your satisfaction. I am happy for you."
"Chrisse..." Jean-Paul snorted softly and stretched out on the blanket. "I don't know what I'd be doing right now if I'd decided it was too dangerous. Climbing the walls, probably. Or trying to kick over a tree."
"In such a contest, my sympathies would rest most squarely with the tree," she told him. Humor was new to her, at least as a quality she experienced and exhibited in herself, and Tessa's developing sense of it definitely leaned toward the dry. "Though I would despair at the inevitable consequences for your foot. Ultimately, I am pleased it did not come to that."
It was Jean-Paul's turn to cook, and he was ruling over the kitchen like a lifelong tyrant. Tessa had been warned that she was utterly and completely banished until he was finished, but she was more than welcome to set up the picnic in their usual spot.
Though unconvinced her friend actually possessed the discretion to bar her from the kitchen area, Tessa elected to respect Jean-Paul's wishes, and left him to create undisturbed. She occupied her time with setting up their dining area, beneath the towering boughs of the tree where they'd first met. The days were growing cooler, and soon their opportunities for outings on the grounds such as this one would disappear, until spring came again. It was only reasonable to make the most of such pleasant evenings as remained.
She'd set out a quilt for them to sit upon, secured at the corners with four sizable, round-sided stones to keep it stationary. Their plates and cutlery had been set with a minute attention to detail, and there was a small centerpiece of wildflowers in-between. Now all that remained was to wait, and the cyberpath passed the time exploring some of the more esoteric functions of her cellular phone.
Jean-Paul finally flitted over, their traditional picnic hamper in-hand. He appeared satisfied with himself as he settled at her side.
"I hope you're not counting calories. This is not going to be light fare."
The cyberpath arched an eyebrow. "I always count calories," she told him. "I track all of the most significant variables which affect my body--and, by extension, my efficiency. However, increasing the intensity of my fitness regimen over the rest of the week should address any excess indulgence on my part tonight." She gestured toward the place she had set for him across from her. "Please."
"As if you'll need it. With all the extra energy everyone here burns through just being a mutant, I don't think Weight Watchers is needed at all."
Determined that they were going to do this with all due honor to the food, Jean-Paul plated the appetizer first: poutine. The fries were cut thick, almost wedges, and still warm enough that the mix of duck gravy and fresh cheese curds was at a satisfying melt.
"Dig in," he advised. "Once it gets cold, it's just a loss."
"Understood," she said, helping herself to a modest portion before cutting into one of the sectioned potatoes. "Delicious," she judged, once the first bite had gone down. "If somewhat outside my experience."
"Poutine is the national snack of Canada," Jean-Paul assured her. "Anyone who tries to sell you on anything else does not have your best interests at heart." He'd polished off his portion within a couple of minutes, taking obvious enjoyment in it. "It doesn't hurt that it's a calorie bomb either."
"I shall defer to your greater understanding of the regional foodstuffs of choice, where North America is concerned. My expertise lies in another hemisphere entirely." Still, she sat forward, with perhaps just a bare hint of eagerness; Tessa was new to this kind of luxury, but she had found it very much to her liking, so far. "What is next?"
The flash of anticipation on Tessa's face was immensely satisfying, and it fed into Jean-Paul's showmanship. He quickly wiped down the plates with a handful of paper towels, then took out the next round of Tupperware. Excellent, still warm.
"So now we go from lowbrow to highbrow." He dished out precise portions of meat, fragrant mashed potatoes, and greens. "Stuffed saddle of rabbit, lemon mashed potatoes, and sauteed dandelion greens with bacon. Not specifically Canadian, but it's often on the menu at Raymonde's bistro."
Though her face retained most of its usual, stoic cast, there was little mistaking the unabashed interest that lit Tessa's eyes. "I am tempted to admonish you for putting too much effort into a single meal for a friendly acquaintance," she said. "But I cannot quite bring myself to do so. And so I will simply note that you have outdone yourself once again, Jean-Paul. Bon apétit." She sampled the greens first, and her neutral mask melted for a few moments in sheer pleasure.
"Says the woman who cooked me five dishes at once." Jean-Paul cut into his rabbit, smiling in satisfaction as much as anticipation.
"Multitasking is a simple thing, given my capabilities," she returned, following his lead to sample the meat portion of the entree. "And nothing I prepared was nearly so elaborate." She smiled as the rabbit practically melted in her mouth--a genuine smile, rather than the brief, flickering expressions she more often displayed. "Or so flavorful," she added.
Jean-Paul swallowed his mouthful. "I'd definitely debate with you on flavorful," he protested. "I'm not showing off here. I'm just matching you."
One dark brow rose. "You will debate with me? I know you are mostly fearless, Jean-Paul, but some things should give even you pause." She sampled the mashed potatoes then, eyes narrowing to slits as enjoyment fairly radiated from her normally-composed posture. "And I will concede readily that I am outmatched. My abilities allow me to mechanically reproduce recipes I have encountered, but I lack the necessary foundation to improve upon them. In contrast, I suspect even your foster-father would be impressed with this meal."
"He'd probably be more impressed with the meal than he is with me, anyway. We haven't spoken since I left." Well, save for the text Jean-Paul had sent to let him know he'd arrived safely. And that didn't count, really.
Tessa frowned, though she continued to eat; it wouldn't do to allow such a refined meal to go cold. "That is not well, Jean-Paul. You should, I think, at least give him an opportunity to understand. And it is not as though you lack for options, if you think your speed is not sufficient; Clarice or Illyana, I'm sure, would be more than happy to transport you there. And immediately back again, if events do not unfold to your liking."
"Ugh, no. I don't need witnesses." Jean-Paul finished cleaning his plate, then looked back to the hamper. The topic of his homelife, such as it were, was apparently off the table. "Dessert?"
She inclined her head in the affirmative. "You are my friend, so I will not press you. I ask only that you consider it." The cyberpath straightened slightly. "All that aside, I am very interested to see what you have prepared as a follow-up."
Jean-Paul all but dove for the hamper again, obviously more than pleased leave the current topic where it was. "This is as close as I come to baking," he said by way of explanation. "I'm pretty sure it's all dark magic, but at least when it comes to clafoutis, it's pretty hard to mess up."
He unveiled a thin, flat pastry that resembled, more than anything else, the offspring of a fruit tart and a berry pancake: a golden brown disk, crispy at the edge, and smelling sweetly of the cherries baked into it.
"I have observed you have a marked tendency toward excessive criticism, where your own abilities are concerned," she said, holding out her plate in obvious invitation. "That being the case, I seem to have no other choice than to enjoy your baking much more overtly than I might otherwise be inclined. It is not a concession I would afford to many."
"I'm honored." Jean-Paul cut her a generous slice of fragrant dessert, then refilled her water glass. "And now that we've taken the edge off, how's your life going?"
"None of my particular complaints seem worth mentioning," she admitted. "I am acclimating as well as I anticipated. Interestingly, an acquaintance of mine recently arrived at the school, as well. I am attempting to assist him with the adjustment" Her expression grew wry. "It is a position I never imagined I would occupy. But I will do the best I can."
Tessa slid her fork into the side of her portion of the clafoutis, asking, "And you?"
"All right, I guess?" Jean-Paul helped himself to a slice of dessert, considering. "My love life is still way more complicated than I ever expected it to be here. I've got two not-boyfriends now." He took a bite. "This acquaintance of yours... is that the new kid who was asking Billy to find him a gun?"
Her brow furrowed. "All the romantic entanglements I have observed thus far seem to be complicated," she said. "But the scenario you describe seems an order of magnitude more so. I wish you all good fortune navigating those relationships, and will be available should my input be desirable."
She gave a wave at the other question that might have indicated anything, really. "Trowa is accustomed to a very different mode of life. It will take some time for him to adapt. And there are certain measures that, while practical to the point of being obvious in his previous life, are unnecessary here. Still, it is normal to fall back on the familiar when one's situation changes so radically."
"I'm wondering what my new criteria for 'normal' is when the idea of a student wanting a gun is one of the less dangerous options around here," Jean-Paul mused. He took a bite of clafoutis, savoring the sweetness. "But I think Xavier's right to ask you to help this Trowa guy. You're good at reaching out to people. You're not someone to sink back into the familiar."
Tessa blinked, surprised despite herself both by the compliment and the flash of pleasure it gave her to be so regarded. "I had never considered it a particular skill," she told him honestly. "I tend to view my actions in terms of necessity and what is practically achievable. But I thank you, nevertheless. I am pleased to be so regarded."
"You do it all yourself," Jean-Paul assured her. "I'm glad you decided to pester me that day."
"As am I," she said, after another bite of the sumptuous dessert Jean-Paul had prepared. "I have found our relationship extremely rewarding, thus far, and trust it will continue to be so. Though the broadening of your social horizons may limit our opportunities for interludes such as this one."
"You mean my dating life?" Jean-Paul laughed at that. "I'll need to take a break from it now and then, non?"
"Your sister is also now present on campus full-time," Tessa pointed out. "And you have other acquaintances. I suspect your time will soon be in very high demand."
"More than you think," Jean-Paul confessed. "I had a good talk with Tommy at the party. I've decided I'm going to grow a pair and throw my hat into the ring when it comes time for the winter sports season to start. I'll be as careful as I can, but I'm not going to put my life on hold just because I'm a mutant."
"I see," she said, expression unchanged, save for a very slight arching of one brow. Then Tessa shrugged. "If this is the decision you have reached, then I am confident you have weighed all the relevant factors and potential outcomes with appropriate diligence. Still, I will observe your return to the public eye with extreme care, if largely for my own peace of mind." She offered a reserved smile. "Good luck."
"Merci. I think I'll be needing it." Jean-Paul sighed. "Well, we'll see how it goes, hmm?"
"That we shall. And will adjust our expectations accordingly." She took another thoughtful bite of the dessert he had so expertly prepared. "I am pleased you have found a confidant you trust. I have offered my services in a similar role to some of the other students, but they seem generally mistrustful of my abilities." And possibly her motives, but that was only prudent.
"Somehow, I don't think you're planning to out me," Jean-Paul said. "And that's the only thing I'd be worried about. The rest of my life's been pretty well examined."
"Revealing your genetic status would lead to sub-optimal outcomes at this time," she agreed, with a trace of wry humor. "Do you anticipate Jeanne-Marie being subject to similar scrutiny? I do not think her temperament would be readily compatible with that sort of attention." This time, Tessa's voice contained only seriousness. And perhaps some concern.
"She'll be here. I'm not planning on dragging her into the spotlight with me."
"That seems wise," Tessa nodded. "Though I imagine she might on occasion wish to cheer you on in person, rather than on camera." Perhaps one of the image-inducers could be adapted. Or perhaps she was being excessively cautious. Nevertheless, the cyberpath preferred to eliminate unnecessary risk factors whenever possible.
"That's a conversation she and I will need to have." Jean-Paul put his empty plate down. "It feels good to have made the decision, though. I've got one direction to work toward."
"I find the feeling of being without a sense of purpose extremely disconcerting, as well," she agreed, finishing her own pastry much more slowly. "Though I did not doubt you would find yours, once you had weighed the options available to your satisfaction. I am happy for you."
"Chrisse..." Jean-Paul snorted softly and stretched out on the blanket. "I don't know what I'd be doing right now if I'd decided it was too dangerous. Climbing the walls, probably. Or trying to kick over a tree."
"In such a contest, my sympathies would rest most squarely with the tree," she told him. Humor was new to her, at least as a quality she experienced and exhibited in herself, and Tessa's developing sense of it definitely leaned toward the dry. "Though I would despair at the inevitable consequences for your foot. Ultimately, I am pleased it did not come to that."
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Date: 2017-10-02 12:50 pm (UTC)