A chance meeting at CoffeeQuake.


There was, of course, coffee in the mansion. Hell, there was coffee in her and Scott's suite. But there was a lack of drinks with silly names and too much caffeine. "Can I get a double non-fat caramel machiatto with half a shot of raspberry," Jean smiled at the girl behind the counter, then added, "and a danish?" It had been about a year since the CoffeeQuake's remodeling had finished, and there was a tad too much brushed steel for Jean's taste, but they still did good coffee.

"You know, I've always pegged you for the skinny latte, no sugar type." John took a step forward next to Jean, giving her a quick smile. "Guess I was wrong." He ordered himself a tripple shot cafe mocha and two sugared donuts before footing the bill. "Before you say anything, I've always been a sucker for the sweet stuff," he said, turning to face her as they reached the bar at the end of the counter to wait for their drinks. He let out a bit of a grin as he looked at her. "It's been a while. Mrs. Scott."

"It has at that," Jean said, smiling back. "Good to see you, John. Thank you for not destroying my shoes when you found out I was back." At his puzzled look she added, "I ended up getting a fair number of assorted shocked reactions when I first came home."

He arched his head back a little. "Ah. Well -- with regards to destroying shoes, I'm completely house trained. Good manners and all that." He nodded once for emphasis before letting out a bit of a smirk. "So are you gonna feed me with the details?" John picked their drinks up, deposited it on the tray and purposefully led the way out, bypassing the non-smoking section of the cafe.

She sighed as he set the tray down on one of the tables in the smoking section. "Insert doctorly and teacherly lecture on smoking in regards to your health here." But she pulled out a chair and sat down without hesitation. "And have you forgotten where you've moved back to? There are far too many details to lay out, you're going to have to actually ask questions."

John clicked his tongue at that, slipped a cigarette between his lips and proceeded to light it. He offered her a stick.

"I'll pass, thanks." Jean picked up her coffee, leaning back in the chair. "Or I could do the questioning, if you like." There was a hint of evil to her smile. "How'd school go? What were you majoring in? Did you like your teachers?"

He quirked both eyebrows at her. "I'll pass. Thanks." He chuckled briefly. "Just let me attempt to give a shit, aight?" John cleared his throat once and pursed his lips in thought. "OK. Got it." He took a quick puff before returning his gaze to her. "How's school like? What are you working on these days? Do you like your students?" He winked at her just then. "Just so you know, I'm still in college. I haven't finished." He turned his palm up and motioned for her to speak.

She gave him a thumb's up and grinned. "Excellent facsimile of an interested former student. You've learned well while you've been away. Things at the school are much as they always are - hectic and crazy with a side order of normality. I do like the new kids, yes, although I'm not thrilled about teaching science this term. But it's going all right. As for what I'm working on... well, you might be interested in this one. I was asked to consult on a committee the Olympic officials formed to look into matters of mutation disqualification. It won't come to fruition for a couple of years, if then, but they're talking about allowing competitors with non-physical-enhancement mutations."

That certainly got his attention. "So -- by passing off as one of them, you're qualified to participate. Wow. That's...that's just great." He stubbed his cigarette out.

Jean rolled her eyes. "No, I said non-physical-enhancement, not non-physical. Under the structure they're looking at now, Miles could compete, if he wanted to, where Kyle couldn't, despite Kyle's being a less obvious mutation. It's a matter of athletic fairness." She shrugged. "And, more importantly, it's a step. The fact that they're even considering putting something like this into effect is incredible."

"Yeah, well, it sure as hell isn't total acceptance though, is it? Whether or not they're allowing some kid with two horns to participate in the olympics, it's not that incredible when he's just running a two hundred metre race." He rested an elbow on the table. "Mutant olympics. Mutant sports. Mutants versus mutants. Now that would be something." He shrugged. "We might be a long way from all of that but still, I'm not going to be impressed over being given a chance to fit in. We're just not like them."

"Because 'separate but equal' has worked so well in the past." Jean shook her head. "Really, if there were enough interest it wouldn't be that hard to set up a mutants league for sports but, honestly, half the people who'd end up watching would be wanting to see what the 'freaks' do, and so many mutants would be incredibly upset by the obvious parallel with the Special Olympics. The idea that we can't compete with the rest of the world." Breaking off a piece of her danish she popped it into her mouth. "Besides," she added after a second, "given that right now our theoretical two-horned friend can't compete, you can bet he'd think it was pretty incredible if he could."

John let out a derisive snort. "We're freaks no matter where we are and what we do," he said before taking a quick sip of his drink. "But okay, maybe you're right. It's a small step to being acknowledged and that's better than nothing. Still -- it's going to take a hell of a lot of guts for any mutant to want to participate. Especially if they're anything like the two-horned kid."

"That it is," Jean acknowledged. "I'm just doing what I can to see that they get the chance, and I say take the victories where we find them."

"Well -- good luck with that." John made good work of burning the sugar on his donut for the added crispy effect before biting into it. "Mind telling me what happened at Alkali Lake? How you survived?" He was curious.

Jean blinked. Well, that was straightforward. "I... I don't know how much you know, what you would have seen from the helicopter, or heard when you got home the first time, but... Well, when I w-went under," the hesitation was almost unnoticeable, almost, "I passed out. Power overloaded. I was convinced I'd never wake up again, but while I was exhausted, it seems my powers weren't. It was a completely subconscious reaction that got me on top of the water. Unfortunately, either while getting up where I could breathe or while being washed down stream, I took at least one serious head injury. I'm told I washed ashore and a trapper found me, took me into town. I woke up in a hospital in Vancouver several months later with absolutely no idea who I was. And no control over my powers, although since I didn't know I had any powers, that wasn't an issue for almost another year."

"How'd you get back to Xavier's?"

Jean shrugged, and glanced away. "Well, the powers didn't stay dormant forever, clearly. A handful of telekinetic fits, pounding headaches and some very strange dreams and eventually a friend convinced me to get help. Pointed me to the Professor as someone who might be able to help, and so I ended up back home. Traumatic global amnesia seemingly doesn't hold up that well when confronted with a deep-seated psi-link."

John cracked out a smile. "See? Now that's exactly why I prefer to let others do the talking. Aside from getting kicked out of the house for not paying rent, nothing much has happened. I could be the poster child for mutant normalcy."

"Now there's an image, John my boy." Jean took a drink of her coffee before smiling back. "Besides, now you're back at the madhouse, it's a whole new ball game."

He took in a deep breath just then. "Can't say that I'm looking forward to getting involved in any of the drama that is Xavier-ville but -- it's good to be back."