Note: Translated from French >
The hanger bay was buzzing with more activity than it had seen in a long time. The Blackbird, and both mini jets, were primed and ready to go. Hank and Rachel flitted back and forth between the three transports, checking and rechecking base output levels, synchronizing telemeter frequencies, testing the newly encoded genetic scanners and generally hovering like mother hens over their chicks the first time out of the nest box. On the far side of the hanger Ororo, Warren and Scott were hunched over a wide table engaged in fine tuning the details of the mission. The ruckus emanating from the corridor announced the arrival of Bobby, Jubilee, Paige and Rahne.
Jean Paul dropped the last case of emergency supplies at the foot of the mini jet's ramp then turned away from the commotion, strolling towards the enormous opening of the newly expanded hanger bay to be alone with his thoughts. He sighed contentedly at the landscape before him. The sky stretching out across the rolling hillsides was a clear, crystal blue, perfect for flying. The sun had yet to reach it's zenith in the sky. It would still be early morning when he reached the Oregon coast.
It'll be foggy, he thought to himself. He'd be crossing four time zones repeatedly today. He was glad to be going, though, he detested the reasons why. The X-men always seemed to find the most spectacular missions; saving the world from maniacal madmen, rescuing beautiful, alien damsels in distress on alien worlds, hopping through dimensions and defeating dark lords like it was child's play. But the most heinous, most vile missions always seemed to find them too. This was sizing up to be one of latter.
"Beau jour, non?" Remy strolled silently up from behind, admiring the pastoral scene before them. He took a long drag of his cigarette, enjoying what he could of it before he had to board the jet. He exhaled a cloud of smoke as a soft breeze caught it, whisking it away. Jean Paul glanced back at the Cajun, with his usual, sharply annoyed expression. He wrinkled his nose as he caught the fetid scent.
"That is a disgusting habit. Why not give it up already?">
"Because, it annoys you."> Remy replied with a small smirk and a sly sideward glance.
"I'm flattered." > Jean Paul twisted his lips into a sarcastic little grin. " Asshole."> Even the insults sounded eloquent coming from Jean Paul.
Remy chuckled. Their playful banter masked his fears, and Jean Paul's trepidation. He actually enjoyed Jean Paul's caustic humor and found his company quite refreshing. Everyone else still found him irritating at best; rude, pretentious and obnoxious at worst. That was most likely why they got along so well. And when they spoke French it irritated everyone that much more. Even the most mundane of their conversations sounded like scathing invectives when accompanied by his smirk and Jean Paul's sneer. It was actually quite an amusing pastime.
They stood in comfortable silence, the peaceful scenery providing temporary solace from the big bad world. Remy took a last drag from his cigarette, slightly charged the butt and flicked it over the edge. The small 'pop' of it's demise barely audible.
Jean Paul focused far off in the distance, "How bad do you think it will be?"> his tone turning uncharacteristically somber.
Remy slowly turned to look at him. His thoughts were churning in a different direction altogether; toward himself, his reaction, his fears. Then, he felt a sudden twinge of guilt. Am I really that shallow? He closed his eyes, remorseful, trying to focus on Jean Paul's all too poignant query.
"There were no bodies in the pictures. If that's what you mean."> Remy knew that Jean Paul had seen death many times during his tenure with Alpha Flight. His sudden mood swing seemed out of character.
Another pensive few minutes passed between them. From over their shoulders, boisterous laughter heralded the arrival of Logan and Kurt to the hanger. They were amused about something. Rogue and Kitty weren't far behind, their light banter echoing just as clearly in the voluminous space as Kurt and Logan's guffaws. They'd be leaving on the mission soon.
Jean Paul dipped his head, eyes closed. "I have a problem with children."> He let go a small sigh, letting the weight of the disturbing thought travel with it. Remy was confused. He had never seen his friend so morose.
"No kidding." > A humorless chuckle accompanied the statement. After all, he was the least liked teacher the school had ever seen.
Jean Paul's face momentarily twisted into a scowl emphasized by a small jerk of his head. He took a deep breath. Then another, quelling the brief flush of anger.
"No, I mean dead children. I don't handle that so well."> Remy did not know. And it had been a long time since Jean Paul thought of his little Joanne, his precious little girl. The look of her tiny face as she labored for breath. The sound of his shattering heart as she fell silent and still in his arms.
Remy watched the painful emotions play across Jean Paul's face, felt his struggle for control of them.
Way to go, idiot. He did not know the child that haunted the man's memories so, but he empathized on levels unknown to everyone except himself. He would correct his insensitivity the only way he knew how.
"Who can? No one should have to."> Remy's words were warm and soothing, their kindness and heartfelt sympathy wrapping around Jean Paul like a quilt on a cold winter's night. Remy placed a supportive arm across Jean Paul's shoulders. The tension in the shorter man melted away as his head relaxed to Remy's shoulder of its own accord, his grief fading back into memory.
They regarded each other warmly for a long moment. Both knowing they just exposed their soft underbellies, but satisfied that the other could be trusted with the secret knowledge.
They both shook with silent chuckles. They knew, with full awareness, the rumors their intimate gesture would generate. Most likely from Rogue who was, in all probability, staring holes in the back of their heads at this very moment.
"Dis is gonna be good fo', what, t'ree, four months of laughs?" Remy smiled.
"At least." Jean Paul agreed.
They broke their embrace with a laugh and turned around only to find the eyes of the entire team on them. The bay would have been dead silent if not for the faint mechanical sounds of the warming jet engines and the hanger's exhaust system. Most of their teammates had the discretion to avert their eyes just as the two turned around. Rogue, Jubilee and Paige, though, were frozen mid stare. Jubilee's jaw actually hung open. Wide open.
"Guess it gonna be a bit longer den a few months, eh?" Remy noted, his humor rapidly drying in his throat.
"You think?" the sarcasm returning to Jean Paul's voice with a vengence.
"Jean Paul..." Scott waved him over to his makeshift conference table.
"Saved by the boy scout."> Remy crooned the words sugary sweet.
"Bastard."> Jean Paul mumbling under his breath as he walked away. He was just thankful Remy didn't blow him a kiss to complete his taunt.
Jean Paul joined Scott just as Ororo and Warren were turning to gather their teams. Warren tried to steal Paige away from Jubilee, but neither was having any of it. He went as far as to stand between them, scooting Jubilee away from Paige, in the direction of her own team. Parting the two was beginning to resemble surgery lately; sort of like separating Siamese twins attached at the hip. Remy lent a hand by rounding up the boisterous Asian girl with a quick tug on the lapel of her oversized yellow trenchcoat. Thankfully, her inhuman thirst for gossip overrode her need to aimlessly run at the mouth. She seized the opportunity to press Remy for 'all the details' on his new found relationship with Jean Paul, following him aboard the mini jet with a vague wave in Paige's direction. Remy just rolled his eyes as he boarded, stabbing an index finger to his temple, hoping Warren realized what he just did for him.
Emma, Jono and Tessa entered the hanger deep in silent, mental conversation, with Danielle tagging along as fourth wheel. Hank caught up to them from across the hanger, a backpack draped over his shoulder and a small GPS unit in the other which he offered to Tessa. She took the devise and began programming it without once glancing at its keypad.
They joined Scott and Jean Paul.
"Dani, are you sure you're OK with this? I mean you know how these kids can get." Scott's concern was clearly evident by the tone. Dani smirked, flipping one unruly braid behind her, hand planted on her hip.
"Please, Scott. You won't be gone that long. I'll be fine."
"Well, just in case, Charles will be here as well as Cecilia and..."
"I'm more than capable of babysitting for a few hours while you're gone." Dani hardened the words, a bit perturbed at Scott's fatherly concern. What am I? Thirteen? Does he really have so little faith in my ability to manage the school in his absence?
"We chose you for a reason, my dear," Emma broke in with a confident smile, "I'm counting on you to continue the assimilation of our newest students while we are gone. I left their files on my desk, along with a schedule of activities for the next three days. I have need of your unique abilities to access their powers in the Danger Room. And provide a full report." Emma's expression lacked the usual superiority she always seems to radiate when giving orders to her employees. Dani had to take inventory of what her senses were telling her. The look, the tone, the almost warm regard, addressing her almost as an equal?
Emma trusts me? Dani resisted the smile that threatened to curl her lips. Just in case Emma was playing some new kind of game where she ended up humiliated in the end.
"I'd be glad to, Emma." Dani returned the blond's confident smile, then turned it to Scott adding sarcasm with a tilt of her head and a leer.
Tessa handed the GPS unit to Scott, who perused its programming, as Hank offered the backpack to Jean Paul.
"There are two scanners. One for measuring elevated neurochemical bio signatures and the other for residual transdimensional displacements." Hank explained. Jean Paul quirked an eyebrow at McCoy, his eyes narrowing to slits. Hank just shook his head with a rustling of his ample mane. "One traces telepathic signatures, the other teleporters. Just press the big red button, the scanners will do the rest." Jean Paul quirked both eyebrows at McCoy, a sneer creeping across his lips. Hank returned the sneered mockingly. The effect of his fuzzy blue muzzle retracting around his sizable canines looked much more disturbing than the withering looks Jean Paul had mastered. "And the GPS is locked onto the coordinates of the derelict ship. Daedelus wasn't too positive about them so we broadened the search area and included the shoreline with calculations accounting for tides and weather conditions over the last six weeks." Hank instructed.
"Don't tell me. Just press the big red button marked 'idiot' and the thing will work." Jean Paul snapped back.
"OK. That's enough.' Scott was really feeling more like a referee on the school playground these past few weeks. After this mission was resolved, he was granting shore leave. His team had been cooped up with the kids for too long. "The GPS outlines your flight plan but it will probably be superceded by our findings on site. Just keep your com open." Scott slapped the GPS into Jean Paul's hand and looked to Emma, her face again unreadable, though her thoughts were still churning. "Are we ready?" he asked with a knowing glance.
"Let's get this over with." Emma turned with a dramatic flair of her cape to board the Blackbird.