Summary: There's more than one reason why J.J. calls him X. Set in 2001.
AN: Lyrics taken from the song "Kick, Push" by Lupe Fiasco
Disclaimer: The only characters I use are from the movie. I don't own any of them, etc., etc., etc.
Kick, Push, Coast
So come roll with me – Just a rebel, looking for a place to be…
It would have been your typical, peaceful Monday morning. It was 8:30 a.m. Waves crashed up against the shore in the wake of a fresh sunrise. The sky was a pale blue. Seagulls circled above the water, but weren't up to making much noise yet. Some yards back, several towers of super-high-priced, peach-painted condos overlooked prime beach-front property, catching the early light and shimmering – just perfectly.
It would have been your typical, peaceful Monday morning…if not for the 30 people who'd invaded the beach a short time ago. Soon, pairs of Vans and bare feet squished footprints into the pristine sand. Dark board shorts and carelessly ripped tank tops and wife beaters stood in contrast to the bright day.
And the noise – loud music and raucous laughter banished the meditative quiet that had existed before. Lawn chairs sprawled casually, and where necessary, fence posts and sand were passable seating. The party was in full swing, only interrupted by various people looking over their shoulders toward the condos and the city. A hum of excitement filled the air. Everyone was waiting…
"We're back!"
The voice was greeted by a cheer reverberating from the crowd. J.J. laughed in response.
"Yeah. Like yall'd be cheering if we'd come back without the food."
She and the girl who'd accompanied her were laden down with bags. Several of the men rushed over to help them bring the food to the beach, and the hungry pack fell upon it as soon as the bags touched the ground. J.J. pushed through them, rescuing one bag from their clutches before they could snatch it.
Scowling at the nearest partiers, she brushed her blond braids back from her face, briefly mopping her brow with the hem of her t-shirt. Laughter was heard again, and she turned, discerning one deep laugh in particular.
"Oh – you got jokes? Bet you wouldn't be laughing if one of these fools had got your tacos."
Her remark was directed to one Xander Cage, extreme sports enthusiast and self-proclaimed extraordinaire. He sat back on the fence, resting calmly amidst the frenzy J.J. had narrowly avoided. Her annoyance did nothing to deter his laughter.
"C'mon, J. We're just excited. I know you are too."
J.J. merely rolled her eyes and shrugged, trudging through the sand to where he sat. She stuck her arm through the hoops of the bag and prepared to hoist herself up, but before she could, Xander reached out, latched onto her hips, lifted her in the air, and plunked her unceremoniously down beside him.
She gasped, surprised enough to have lost her breath. As she recovered, Xander quipped,
"You're welcome," and then grunted, "food!" doing his best impression of a caveman and thrusting out his hand for a taco.
"You're a nut," J.J. scowled, but it was immediately replaced with a smile as she dug into the bag.
"Let's see," she said to herself, scanning the writing out the outside of the foil-wrapped bundle, "Barbacoa, extra chile…"
"That's mine," Xander said eagerly, pulling it from her.
Immediately, J.J. was on the offensive, snatching it back and raising an eyebrow.
"No it isn't," she replied.
His expression could have rivaled a basset-hound.
"But I love chile," he nearly wined.
J.J. shook her head.
"You sure do. You love it until 20 minutes later when you've got wicked heartburn. I refuse to miss this 'cause I'm at the store buying you Tums!"
Xander grumbled under his breath, but willingly accepted the "chile-less" taco. Apparently it agreed with him. He downed it in two bites and immediately dove into the bag for another.
A natural silence fell over the group as they ate, so everyone heard the loud grind of machinery headed their way. All eyes immediately turned toward the condos, specifically the large plot of land between the condos and the beach. When the two bulldozers finally appeared, a loud cheer sounded from the group. Food was forgotten as the excited people ran to stand with Xander and J.J. by the fence.
Other construction crew members soon arrived. They were quite perplexed to see that they had an audience at a run-of-the-mill groundbreaking. Nonetheless, they had a job to do. The crew cleared the grounds, and one of the bulldozers roared to life again, driving up onto the plot of land.
Xander and his crew waited, holding their breath. Unconsciously, he reached out for J.J. She grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
They watched, and waited, eyes following the bulldozer's blade as it rose into the air, then plunged into the ground below, scooping up a full shovel of grass and dirt.
At that, the group broke into celebration, laughter, and applause. J.J. retained her hold on Xander's hand, jumping up and down in glee.
He was surrounded by ecstatic friends and fans, but through it all, Xander was strangely silent. He face was bathed in a serene calm, a bit of a smile gracing his strong mouth.
In the midst of the happy uproar, he held onto J.J.'s hand, pulling her firmly toward him and hugging her around the waist. When she looked up at him, they both broke out into full grins.
"Okay, okay! Everybody settle down!" J.J. laughed from her place on top of the counter. Looking out over the group gathered at Xander's loft, she reached into her back pocket. As she pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, everyone got quiet, watching her curiously.
His body carelessly straddled the arm of a nearby sofa, but Xander's face looked slightly nervous at the sight of the paper.
"J," he said cautiously, "that had better not be what I think it is…"
At his words, she just laughed, unfolding the paper.
"Now I know we're all still a little bummed about the cops running us off the beach…"
Everyone booed accordingly as she concluded, "but the party ain't gonna stop!"
The group roared their approval, then turned their attention to the paper she held.
This," J.J. said with exaggerated ceremony, "is the product of 3 shots each of Tequila and Goldslauger. I was okay, but X was plastered."
She paused while everyone laughed, and those nearest to Xander playfully punched him in the back and shoulders. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"Anyway," she continued, " You know X gets a little sentimental when he's drunk, and he demanded that I take down this list for him."
She smoothed out the paper, drawing out the suspense as Xander prepared for the humiliation. She cleared her throat and began to read.
"Ten things I want to do before I die…" she proclaimed, and everyone gave a preemptory cheer.
"Number one: get skateboarding legalized everywhere!"
Everyone cheered again.
"Number two - climb Mount Everest! Number three – go snowboarding during an avalanche!"
She paused then, and everyone waited expectantly.
"And this one – which we'll be checking off today," she paused again, pulling a red marker out of her pocket and removing the cap, "Number four – build a skate park in the middle of the suburbs!"
That one got a standing ovation, with everyone hooting and clapping as J.J. crossed it off of the list. Once the noise dimmed, J.J. stooped down to grab her drink. She lifted it into the air, and everyone followed suit.
"To X!"
The sentiment was echoed wholeheartedly as everyone drank to the man of the hour. He ducked his head, looking immensely bashful, but he was smiling.
"J, get up. I want to cross something else off the list."
J. J. looked up, bleary-eyed. She scratched her forehead, trying to wake up. She'd crashed with Xander in the aftermath of the party, and it was apparently the next day. She groaned, rasping,
"What time is it?"
"Six."
"Six what?" she queried angrily. She already knew the answer, though.
"I made breakfast," he countered, reaching behind him to a tray on the dresser. He set a surprisingly well-made sausage omelet on J.J's lap once she rose to a sitting position. When she was settled, he handed her an orange juice.
"Eat up," he commanded, sitting down to latch up his boots.
J.J. laughed, noting that he was in his motocross gear, then waxed serious.
"You sober enough to try this now?"
"Yep," he answered, looking her straight in the eye.
She nodded.
"Okay."
J.J. had started to loll off to sleep again when the van finally came to a stop. When she opened her eyes, she was not at all surprised to see the dirt-packed hills of the track. As it was such an ungodly hour, the race/practice way was deserted. Xander would have plenty of room.
In the time it took for her to unbelt and climb out of the front, he was already out and unhooking his bike. As he wheeled it around the side of the van, J reached back into the cab to get his helmet.
Side-by-side, they walked down a hill, across the lawn, through the gates, and down into the valley that held the racetrack.
"You got the list?" Xander asked.
J.J. nodded mutely, keeping her thoughts to herself, then headed to the bleachers to watch. As he wheeled his bike to the start of the track, she unfolded the paper.
"Number 7," she read to herself, "Land a Superman Seatgrab Barrel Roll."
She sighed, her hand straying to her pocket and the gift she'd meant to give Xander yesterday. It was a good thing she'd waited. He'd probably need a pick-me-up after what he was about to try. Xander had been working on the trick for a couple of years now, but for some reason, it just hadn't clicked.
The Superman Seatgrab Barrel Roll: it seemed to be the only trick Xander [i]couldn't[/i] do. Separately, the tricks were simple enough. You got some good air and let go of one of the handle bars, lifting your bottom half off the seat, extending your legs out and back (like you were flying), then grabbing the seat with your free hand. The barrel roll was basically just a back flip you did while sitting on the bike.
With enough height, you could do either trick with no problem, but both? Unless the laws of gravity no longer applied, a biker just fell too fast to essentially let go of his bike, get back on (mid-air, mind you), and then flip. Unless you could get an inhuman amount of air…well –
"Shit!" Xander yelled, and J.J. was jerked from her thoughts in time to see him go crashing to the ground.
"X!" she screamed, running down from the bleachers and onto the track.
When she reached him, he was in a heap on the ground, but the moving and groaning was sufficient proof he wasn't dead.
She dropped to his side, helping him to turn over onto his back. His helmet-clad head landed awkwardly in her lap and he groaned again. Gingerly, she reached down for his goggles, pulling them back to rest on the crown of the helmet. He looked at her blearily.
"Ouch."
"I'll bet," J.J. answered softly with a humorless laugh. Her hand dropped down to rub his shoulder, and she asked him if he could stand. When he answered the affirmative, she helped him to his feet. Taking it upon herself to wheel the bicycle, the two walked slowly back to the truck.
By the time they reached it, his walk was a bit more sure, but he didn't object when J.J. held out her hand for his keys. After divesting of his jersey and the various pads on his chest, shoulders and arms, Xander plopped into the passenger's seat with a soft groan.
Sensing his desire for silence, J.J. drove the first few miles without speaking. Then suddenly, X spoke.
"Can we turn into that shopping center over there?"
J.J. nodded, confused, but did as he asked, driving into the nondescript strip mall. She parked where he directed, making sure the van was locked securely before following Xander to wherever it was he was going.
After a few seconds, she knew. The word "tattoos" flashed brightly in neon green tubing.
She shook her head and smiled. Well, if it would make him feel better…
By the time she walked into the store, Xander was already sitting down with an artist making a simple sketch of what he wanted. J.J. spotted a nearby chair, but her curiosity got the better of her and she ventured over to see what Xander had cooked up.
Soon, the man was seated facedown in a massage chair, the corded muscles of his next bared for the needle.
J.J. started to look over the artist's shoulder, until Xander gave her a sound reproof.
"I want it to be a surprise," he said, his voice muffled. "If you're bored, you should get a tattoo while you wait."
J.J. laughed.
"No thanks. You can't top the tiger," she laughed, gesturing to the feline paws gracing her chest.
J.J. intermittently spent the next few hours looking through books of sample drawings and dozing off in one of the semi-comfortable chairs in the waiting area. Eventually, she was awakened by the sound of Xander calling her name. She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head at his obvious glee.
He was sitting when she got to the back of the shop, handing his credit card to the artist. Quickly, he motioned her over. When she came closer, he directed her around to look at the tattoo.
It was a series of three X's, black on red, standing in stark relief to the caramel skin of his neck. J.J. shook her head in disbelief, vainly attempting to stifle a laugh as her hand skimmed the small box in her pocket.
"What?" Xander asked, worried.
J.J. quickly stopped.
"Nothing, X. It looks really good."
She paused.
"But I though that the Superman Seatgrab Barrel Roll was only two tricks."
"It technically breaks down into three. And two X's wouldn't have looked right," he answered.
J.J. nodded, lips pursed, and followed him out of the store.
Once they got back to the loft, J.J. went inside to help Xander put some Neosporin on the back of his neck.
"You want to put a bandage on it?" she asked, although she knew he'd want to put the new ink on immediate display.
He shook his head.
"You want to tell me why you were laughing earlier?" he asked, his voice strangely tense.
"I didn't realize you'd noticed that. I wasn't laughing at you. I promise."
He wasn't convinced, so she came around the stool to look him in the face.
"I meant to give you this last night," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small velvet-covered box. "It's kind of funny that I forgot, especially with the new tat."
His brow furrowed quizzically, and he smirked.
"You proposing to me, J?"
She sighed, rolling her eyes as he snickered.
"No!"
She abruptly handed him the box, crossing her arms in mock anger. When he opened it, his eyes grew wide. Cradled in a bed of velvet was a ring molded into a sterling silver "X."
"Wow."
"I'm glad you like it," she smiled, continuing, "and it's not just for your name. I found that list a while ago and I got to thinking."
She jumped onto the next stool, swiveling sideways to look at him.
"You've done so many amazing things and you're gonna do a lot more. I know that right now you feel like you've failed, but I promise you, it won't be long before you're crossing everything off of that list."
She almost fell off the stool when he wrapped his arms around her, nearly crushing her to his chest. Her free hand came up to pat him on the back of the head, carefully avoiding grazing the tattoo.
"I'm just glad to be along for the ride," she smiled, voice muffled.
Once Xander let her go, he promptly grabbed the ring and slid it onto his finger. Holding it up so J.J. could see, he told her,
"The only way this comes off is if I'm dead."
J.J. smiled, brushing her hair back from her face.
"And that better not be anytime soon," she responded.
Xander nodded, and then pursed his lips, apparently in deep thought.
When J.J. raised an eyebrow in question, he replied,
"At least not until after I land that trick."
The End
