Disclaimer: Surprise, surprise... Marvel still owns the
X-men and I still own Susana. There is
NO continuity here; it's a completely alternate universe. I just wanted to use the characters. Mockery of Jono's wardrobe is inspired by
GenX #71 and Uncanny X-men #395. He
just doesn't seem to get it.
Notes:
sound
*thought*
} telepathic conversation {
Setting: Washington, the next morning (Monday
the 27th for anyone keeping track.)
Susana flicked a damp strand of hair from her
eyes, then tugged a standard Institute tank top over her head and left the
bedroom. She padded silently across the
entryway's black and white marble floor and into the living room, where Hank
was sitting on a couch, drinking coffee and reading the paper. "Mornin', Hank. Where'd ya get the coffee?"
"Hmm? Oh, good morning, Susana. The
coffee was provided by the hotel's private dining service. I left the menu by the telephone, if you'd
like something for yourself. I doubted
you would appreciate being awakened so early. I was obviously mistaken." He smiled sheepishly as he gestured to the menu tucked under the phone.
"Hey, no worries. I'm surprised I woke up this early. I guess it must've been the
traffic." She picked up the menu,
then crossed to the window and pushed the heavy drapes back. " We're facing Pennsylvania Avenue,
right? Which way is the White
House?"
"I believe it's up the street and to the
left." Hank folded the section of
the paper he'd just finished and picked up the next section.
Susana left the window and sat in a chair,
where she contemplated the menu. She
stood and shuffled to the phone, where she was quickly connected to the room
service number. After ordering a plate
of croissants and a pot of herbal tea, she hung up and sat back down to wait,
then leaned across the table and tapped a page of newsprint. "Can I steal that section?" At Hank's nod, she dragged the paper across
the table and they both read in companionable silence. When she heard the light knock on the door,
she hopped up to get her breakfast. After tipping the bellboy(A/N: WTF should I call the room service
server? I'm sure bellboy is non-PC and
the wrong term besides...but it will have to suffice), she carried the tray
through the living room and into the dining room, where she sat and began
munching happily on a croissant while reading her paper. There was a scuffling sound coming from the
other bedroom, on the opposite side of the dining room, and she craned her neck
to see what was going on. As she
watched, Jean stumbled into the doorway, tugging at the laces of one of her
tennis shoes.
"Morning, Jean...want a
croissant?" She hoisted the plate
up and waved it temptingly. Jean
stared, mesmerized, then shook her head.
"I can't. Do you have any idea how many calories are in one of those?"
"Yes, I do...now, witness as I
miraculously...Don't Care! C'mon, Jean...you wear what, a size 2? Carpe crustulorum!" She shook the plate again and spoke in a high falsetto. "Jean, I am the croissant....I am a
good breakfast...There is strawberry jam to go on me." Susana laughed as Jean grabbed the pastry,
tore it into bites, and spread jam on each piece.
"Carpe crustulorum,
hmm?" She popped a bite into her
mouth and raised an eyebrow at Susana before continuing the conversation
telepathically. }Dare I ask why you
know how to say 'Seize the Pastry' in Latin?{
"I read Dean Koontz. So, what's the plan for today?" She blinked innocently and prayed that Jean
wouldn't pursue the topic. *Somehow I
doubt Scott and the professor would appreciate knowing that I have the time to
read, but not to practice more in the danger room or teach a third section of
Spanish.*
Jean took another bite of croissant and went
along with the not-so-subtle change of subject. }Well, we don't have anything planned, really. The hearing is on Thursday, so you need to
call your senator friend before then. Maybe she'd agree to meet us for lunch tomorrow?{
"I'm pretty sure she'll meet us whenever
we ask her to. Aside from my dad's help
with her campaign, she's also a really nice lady...makes time for her
constituents and all that." She
waved a hand expansively, then poured herself a cup of tea from the pot. "I'll call her as soon as I get done
with my tea." She turned to the
doorway, and dissolved into laughter at the sight that greeted her. Jono was leaning against the doorframe,
wearing an ancient, sleeves-cut-off band t-shirt and a pair of black silk
boxers. } Jono, what the hell is
up with your boxers?{
He looked puzzled. Glancing down, he didn't see that there was anything wrong with
them- everything that needed to be covered, was....wasn't it? }What d'you mean?{
}They're, like...Logan-length!{ *God, I'm glad I didn't have any tea in my
mouth when he came in...hey kids, gather round, let's see what happens when
peppermint tea shoots out of Susana's nose!* She snorted indelicately at the thought.
}Logan-length? Dare I ask?{
}Seems to me you just did...what I mean is,
they're the right length for him. He's
5'3". You, however, are
5'9"...and a lot of that 6 inch difference is leg.{
}Yeah, well...wait a second. Why were you checking Logan out?{ He eyed her suspiciously as she considered
how to answer.
}Spandex, darling...and don't act like you're
all pure and innocent as the driven snow. I happen to know you check out Jean, and Jubilee, and...{ She scowled as he cut her tirade short.
}Ok, you got me there...truce?{ He held up both hands in a gesture of
surrender, then crinkled at her.
}If you'll go change. I'd like to drink this before it gets
completely cold,{ she gestured at her teacup, }and that's not gonna happen with
you standin' there lookin' ridiculous.{
}Alright, alright...I'm going now.{ He pushed himself away from the doorframe
and ambled back to the master bedroom to shower and change. As he went, he considered how odd his
fiancee's priorities were sometimes. *She's got no
problem with the wraps and
the fact that there's a damn furnace inside me, but I wear too-short boxers
once and the gel has a coronary...women.*
Jean had watched the entire exchange with
interest, and as Jono walked out of earshot, she began to shake with suppressed
mirth. "It was really not very
nice of you not to tell him you were sharing the conversation with me."
"It was on a bit of a delay...nothing
was getting through if I thought it would upset him for you to know." She smiled at Jean's expression. "Don't worry, he didn't say anything
bad about you."
"I hope not...I'm amazed I managed not
to laugh when you were talking about Logan." She snickered, and Susana decided it was a good thing she hadn't
made any taunting remarks about Bobby or Kurt's musculature or build. Jean wouldn't talk about Logan because she
didn't want to add to the tense rivalry he and Scott shared...but she'd have no
such qualms about spilling all regarding the younger X-men.
Susana finished her cup of tea, then poured
herself a second cup. After she
finished that, she stood. "Ok, I'm gonna go call the Senator's office
now...when I return, my fiancée will be wearing normal clothes and won't scare
me." She grinned and pretended to
wave a magic wand, then bounced across the living room into her bedroom. Jono was standing with his back to the
door. He'd just gotten out of the
shower, and was holding a towel around his waist as he decided what to
wear. Susana smirked evilly, then
bumped the door closed with as little noise as possible. She crept along the far wall of the room,
ducking to keep from being visible in the mirror in front of Jono. She bit the tip of her tongue to keep from
laughing as she snuck up behind him. Grabbing the edge of the towel, she yanked with all her strength, then
grinned as he whirled around. She held
the towel up. "I like this much
better than those boxers. Of course, I
like your present state even more..." she purred and glanced up at him
through her lashes, then turned and began digging through a dresser
drawer. "Coulda sworn I left my
Palm in here...Jono?" Her tone was
astonishingly calm, considering that he'd just picked her up from behind and
was carrying her towards the still-unmade bed.
}Yes, luv?{
"Think ya could put me down? Like, now, if possible? If you want to play, you should ask."
}Alright.{ He nodded amenably and lowered her back down to the floor beside the
bed. }Susana, I want to play. Can we?{
She looked up at him solemnly, then scrunched
her face up in a doubtful expression. "Jean and Hank are, like, right in there. I dunno about the wisdom of play right
now....but how about this. I call the
senator, like I said I would, then we can go out and be touristy for a
bit...and when we get back, we'll have the place to ourselves. Hopefully."
Jono tipped his head back and shot a
frustrated glare at the ceiling, then looked down at her and shook his head
disbelievingly. }What did I do to
deserve such an impossible woman? Ow! That was my shin, gel! No
more of that.{
"I'm not impossible." Her brows drew together in an implacable
frown, and she pursed her lips in annoyance. Crossing her arms across her chest, she glared defiantly at him.
}No, you're not usually. But even you have to admit...you bloody idle
at difficult sometimes. Oh, come here,
will you.{ He pulled her from the edge
of the bed until they were standing toe-to-toe. }I'm sorry I called you impossible. Now, call the senator- your Palm, by the way, is in the same
drawer of the other dresser- and we'll go be tourists.{ He grabbed her hand, removed the towel from
her grip, and spun her around to face the appropriate dresser, then gave her a
light smack on the butt, }for momentum, luv.{
"Mierda. I'm affianced to someone who thinks smacking
my ass is justifiable through application of the laws of physics. Por qué me, Señor?" She opened the drawer and pulled out a small
handheld organizer, then popped the stylus out of its slot and pressed it to
the screen. Jono wandered into the
living room to give her some privacy for her call.
He was sitting on the couch and reading the
paper when Susana bounded triumphantly into the living room. "Ok, ya'll, we're going for lunch at
the Capital Grille. It's supposed to be
some big lobbyist lunch place." She plopped down beside Jono on the couch and looked at Hank and Jean
inquiringly. "What are you two
gonna do today?"
Hank looked up from the heavy book on his
lap. "I thought I might go to the
National Museum of Health and Medicine. The new exhibit is supposedly quite fascinating."
Susana nodded. "Sounds cool. Jean? What are you planning on
doing today?"
"I'm going antiquing...Scott and I need
more furniture for the boathouse...there's so much empty space in there!"
Incredulous, Susana looked across the table
at Jono. "Tell me she's not
complaining about having lots of space."
}Sorry, gel...but she is.{ He mentally chuckled at Susana's pained
expression.
"Jean, if you don't want that space,
we'd be more than happy to take it off your hands. I would kill for extra space at the mansion. I'm just really glad I have my apartment...otherwise
I'd never have enough space for all my stuff." She stood and tugged her tank top down, then walked around to the
back of Jono's chair and began poking his shoulders with her index
fingers. "Shall we,
m'dear?" He nodded, and after a
quick stop to get his wallet, her purse, and an image inducer "just in
case"; they were off to tour the city.
Translations:
Mierda - well, it's profane, and the same as Merde
in French. Go to
http://world.altavista.com/ to find out.
Por qué me, Señor? - Why me, Lord?
