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*
The afternoon was long and hard, and highly irritating. But she knew that the people who were employed here were doing their jobs. Besides, it counted towards her grade right? With school back into swing, the only activities she's had were just wheeling herself around like a power ranger gone mad. The therapist was a pusher; she didn't hollar at Jean, but gently chided her as she took her breaks. One foot in front of the other, keep yourself upright. Don't cheat with your TK. Keep your head up and you could do it.
Each of the bars were gripped as she passes herself along, her red hair wet with sweat, her shirt stained with it also. And all around her? Kids of all ages separated into their groups, a few of them doing jumping jacks while others jump around with their ropes. Some are playing basketball like good ol' boys would and a few others are playing kickball.
In which a ball was kicked in Jean's direction, in which she freaks out with hands thrown up and shaken towards the flying object which sends it sailing into a different direction, and her flat upon her face.
"WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING!" The nurse cries out.
*
Noemi Noronha had been over on some of the other balancing equipment, suspending herself carefully and deliberately between two rings as she hoisted herself upwards. It was a slow movement but she was aiming for form and stretching rather than speed, at this point. She'd been doing well and -
POOMP
The kicked ball, ricocheting off of Jean's recuperating form, flies forwards and strikes Noemi right square in the chest. The force it impacts starts her swinging backwards, although before this penduluming operation can get completely absurd, she dismounts - or would like to call it a dismount. She lets go, does a handstand that lasts exactly .4 seconds on the mat, and then flops down with another loud WHACK on her back.
She sits up right away. "Ah! Jean?" she calls out, pushing herself up and hastening over, even if there's already a nurse there. "Is she alright?!" said nurse is asked. Somehow, Noemi sounds guilty about this.
*
Logan arrives to check up on Jean. The two of them had recently healed a rift between them, which meant that, as usual, Logan hovered around, playing mother hen and making sure Jean didn't get herself in over her head. Mostly because she was totally unafraid to do such that and wouldn't call for help even if she was drowning. Stubborn girl.
He arrives just in time to see her flat on her face, but thankfully moving, with the other girl running towards her. He doesn't rush in because the doctors and everything are right there, but he can't help but be concerned.
*
It was rather comical, a few of the kindergardeners laughed while they snatched up the ball to play keep away from the other crew. The nurse grips Jean's shoulder, tugging her upright at a slight bend that -hurts-, readjusting her so that she could lift her up and carefully place her within the chair that was on standby.
"I'm alright.." Jean fusses with the nurse, playing slaphands for a brief moment before she turns her hands to the armrests to fix herself properly. "I think we're done for today."
There wasn't any chance for her to pretty much reject this notion, the lady was already packing up and ready to leave whilst Jean wiggles her toes within her shoes to let out a little sigh. While she could cheat.. she just.. doesn't. "No really! I'm fine Noemi. Are -you- alright? You kind of .. you know, taken a hard one to the chest. That didn't seem like it felt good."
She could tell Logan was near, for with that, she turns to offer up a little wave, though saddened that there wasn't any food in his hands.
*
"Oh it just sounded awful because I'm basically a kickball myself," Noemi says, waving a hand to dismiss the concern. "It startled me more than anything. - You're sure you're alright?" A glance to the nurse, a glance towards — oh! She straightens up at the presence of Logan, if only fractionally.
And THEN she turns her baleful gaze on the kindergarten cohort. "And WHAT'S so funny?" she says, projecting a firm disapproval transcending physical mutation at all of them.
*
Logan is certainly not in particular one to be straightening up around. God knows his posture was terrible. "You okay, darlin'?" he says, moving over to makessure he can help Jean up to her feet. He disregards the children because children generally weren't worth much regard. He wasn't good with kids, which is why he never met any of his until they were grown. Well, maybe that wasn't why, but it probably helped.
"Jean's purty tough," he says, "Aches gettin' any better?" he asks, nodding to her legs.
*
"No you're not!" Jean blurts out, breaking out into a little laugh that sees her hand drawing up to cover her lips. "Yeah, I'm alright. Thankfully I fell on the mats or else I'd be done for." Jean leans forward to release the brake upon her chair, wheeling herself back so that the nurse can begin to collect the bars and mats. At least to give room for the play that was going on along the gym, for she was already scowling at the children, yet none of them seem to have an effect compared to Noemi.
'Sorry Ms. Noemi!'
'Eeeeeeee!'
The children clear the area, going back to their rough housing and fun, all the while Jean shakes her head as she looks up and smiles towards Logan. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Really. I mean I -am- hungry.." Hint hint! Though, food will come soon enough, though now .. "Yeah. My legs are getting a little better. I've been using crutches but I've been told to not overdo it. Especially if I'm going to be out for a long time."
*
"Sure I am," Noemi says sunnily. "I'm made of rubber and I'm full of hot air." These are both extremely technically true, the best KIND of true. She sidles over, squatting to help fold up the mat as she mutters something to herself about The Children, half rueful and half fond.
"You can really wear yourself out if you push yourself while you're still getting ready. Are you going to get lunch?" Her eyes cut up towards Logan. "Do you mind if I tag along? I don't think I'm going to get much more stretching done with these little terrors hurling missiles around."
*
Logan shrugs, "Sure, kid, come along. Lunch is on me. It ain't gonna be nothin' fancy, though. Sammiches an' some o' them fried potato things," he says. He reaches into his pocket, drawing out a cigar and lighting it cause it's the damned sixties and you can still smoke in hospitals.
"Watch out, ya little rugrats," he says, maneuvering around the kids as best he can as he tries to lead the two young ladies out to lunch.
*
*
*
There was really no need to actually get dressed to go to Shakey's. It was one of those dive bars fanagled with a kitchen and one of the best cooks that Shakey's could hire. Meat filled the grill with a delicious aroma; one of the secret combination of spices that Shakey claims to have made a long time ago a hit with the locals.
And if you were outside? You'd barely miss the place. It was like a hidden treasure deep down in Westchester. And the three enter with a ring of the bell, yet automatically Shakey knows the deal. He must be a telepath.
At least it was a running rumor.
The man knew what you'd want as soon as you enter the place, and if not, he'd know better either way. For as soon as Jean wheels ahead to pick out a circular table, a tray full of bbq pork shoulder was tossed upon it with three glasses of soda, and a bourbon for Logan just in case. Along with the check. Quickest service in the east.
"That was fast." Freaky fast, Jean comments, then grabs at least a slice of bread to begin to pile on the meat. "So, classes are beginning to be a lot easier now that I found my groove. I figure by winter I'd be ready to attend college. What are you doing to do with yourself, Noemi?"
*
SOON! Noemi did change out of her gym clothing, but this was a quick operation for her. Now she's in a casual dress with buttons that match her eyes. And meat has been presented to her, fragrant and rich.
Noemi picks a bit out with a fork, layering it on a slice of the bread. "Well, I don't really know," she says, "other than chemistry, I suppose. I haven't been thinking a great deal about it; the idea of going to ESU or something is positively spooky!" Despite terrifying mutant powers, &c. "What about you? Any subject luring you in?" This more to Jean than Logan; Logan seems to her to have already gotten his schooling over and done with.
*
Logan is well past schooling, that's for sure, although he didn't really attend much. He was homeschooled the little bit that he was and probably not much past what they'd call sixth grade nowadays. But he'd managed all right on his own, even if he couldn't tell algebra from hieroglyphics.
He digs into the food shamelessly, getting a sip of the bourbon along the way and sitting back as he alternates between puffs of his stogie, letting the girls talk about their futures while he stuffs his face.
*
Jean's plate was filled with food. She didn't waste any time digging in for she meant it when she said that she was hungry. "I know what you mean. I do feel sorry for the people who can't rightly just go out into the world without persecution. It's sad." She frowns at this, then pops a healthy heaping of meat into her mouth, then chews quietly.
It takes her a moment to answer, but once she was ready, she takes a sip of her soda and shrugs. "Psychology." It was simple enough, and it seemed like the right way to go. She did truly want to help people. "Maybe go to Columbia with Scarlett, unless another place is willing to take me." She smiles then, and looks to Logan and Noemi both. "Hypothetical, to you both actually, now that I have a sounding board." She takes another bite of her food, chewing and swallowing quickly with a slight struggle.
"Say that.. there is someone that's in need of help. And they're just a regular person. Not mutant, not anything. Would you two help?"
*
Noemi is picking at her food, but she usually does that. Hasn't seemed to hurt her any. As she raises up the open-faced sandwich, she considers Jean's question, unable to give her reflexive answer without being rude. Oh no!
"Well, of course I would," Noemi says. Then she goes back on it immediately. "I mean it depends on what kind of help they needed. There's being a good Samaritan and then there's trying to do something when you really ought to be finding them the proper kind of help they need. What kind of help do you mean?"
*
Logan snorts, "Does Scarlett actually go to school, or does she just sit outside and taunt the other kids through the window about how she's free and learnin' everythin' she needs from the birds an' shit?" he teases.
Jean's other question makes him sit forward a little bit, "Course. Well, long as they ain't an asshole. I don't help assholes. But good folk? Yeah, sure, why not? Ain't no reason t'be prejudiced," he says.
*
Jean is quiet now, bobbing her head, taking in a little bit of her soda with a few sips. Both of their answers were good, something that she hoped to hear, but it was a little bit more complicated than that. "A kid." She states quietly. "I mean, rightfully someone should go to the police, but I can't really help but wonder if that was tried already. And it really shouldn't be a thought for anyone to say, 'Hey. He's not special. He's not a mutant so I'm going to turn the other cheek.'"
She shakes her head slightly. "I mean, he's been beaten bad. When I saw him last, he told Bobby what was going on in his home and at school. And.. what if we do call the police? And nothing happens. Or someone lies. Or maybe the kid is lying. I don't know. But there's just too much at risk to not at least -look- into this."
*
Noemi looks vaguely and faintly scandalized at Logan's A-word, but she has no doubt heard it often enough to not be heavily affected. As she takes another bite and washes it down with a sip of cola, she says, "Well, I mean, I don't know if that's a problem /for/ us, but it can't hurt to look around if you think it might be a misunderstanding… if nothing else we'd save the police from wasting time if it's nothing, and if it isn't, well…"
*
Logan considers, "Doesn't seem like the kind of thing to overlook. I know you can tell the difference if someone's lyin' or tellin' the truth. An' so can I," he says to Jean, looking over at Noemi, "I ain't got much patience for kids, but I even got less for people that think beatin' 'em is a good way to make their lives easier," he says. "If that's what's goin' on, they're gonna be the ones with the problem, real fast," he says.
*
Jean was used to Logan's swearing. There were times she swears herself. In her head. A lot. Especially when she stubs her toe or gets her wheel stuck on something gross. But she listens to both of them, it was something that she was clearly bothered by and couldn't.. well didn't want to drag her feet on. "I didn't hear the story for myself.." She tells Logan. "..but I could feel him. And it wasn't right.." She nods towards Logan, and then smiles a little sad smile towads Noemi.
"It would be selfish to just wish this all away and that I've never met the kid but I think we need to do something. At least.. check and watch?" She was looking to both of them for permission to act. To do something. "Look around, like you say, Noemi. Some.. kind of way.. I don't know. We've lied to people before…"
*
"Can you say more about this child? Do you know their address or anything? Maybe we could just ask the schools, or… something," Noemi says, seeming to run out of ideas past that. She looks to Logan, who is in this field also probably wiser than she.
This field being 'spying on children.' Some things just take some doing.
Then, "— Wait, you've never met them…? How did you hear about this?"
*
Logan isn't particularly concerned about the how. Jean had powers that did interesting things, he knew, sometimes things outside of her direct control. "Simplest thing is findin' 'em, playin' cop, askin' a few questions an' seeing if we like the answers. I dunno about what we do. I can put the fear o' god into 'em, that's fer damn sure, or maybe…I dunno, maybe ya can mind-voodoo folks not to do that kinda crap?" he says. "My only worry is that I might lose my temper…" he says.
Logan took his share of beatings as a child. He isn't likely to be sympathetic.
*
Jean just shakes her head. "Nothing. The one time I actually got close I had to hold off a ton of people so that Bobby could actually talk to him." She rubs her cheek, she really didn't think about calling the school to ask for an address, though she was sure that they wouldn't readily give out that information. "I've never met the parents, I've met the boy. His name is Jackson Palmer. He's a cute little kid. Dark hair and eyes. I know for a fact he's going to be a lady-killer when he grows up." Jean looks at her food, taking up a piece of meat, then flops it on to Logan's plate to add a bit of levity.
But to answer Noemi's question, she lifts her fingers to tap the side of her temple. "In the park, me and Moira were having lunch, and I could hear him just.. cry. Not outwardly but.. it was.." She swallows, not wanting to relive that. "I sort of pushed for it. I think he needs us. I think everyone needs us.."
She nods towards Logan, his suggestion was a good one. In fact, "I think we should do that. Play cop. I mean, obviously -I- can't.." And then, there was that look. One that goes from Noemi to Logan..
Uh oh..
*
Noemi doesn't really flush but she looks like she WOULD be doing it a little when Jean, after describing this innocent childe in peril, looks to her after referring to playing cop. She points the bread crust at herself and half-squeaks, "What - me? But I'm not—"
A legal law enforcement agent? Intimidating? Tall??
*
Logan shrugs, "I mean, I can play a cop, easy enough. Maybe even bring you two along as witnesses, say you heard some things. THey don't have to know who you are. Or I could say yer specialists, counselors who can talk to the boy while I deal with the parents," he says. "Long as you ain't too afraid to leave me alone with the papa. I promise I won't break his teeth unless you gimme th"
*
the say-so, Jeannie."
*
Jean lets out a little laugh, then begins to pile more food upon her plate. Shakey makes his rounds with the customers, even returning to fill Jean's glass and Logan's bourbon. "I think you can do anything, Noemi." Jean's encouraging words sounded meaningful enough, because it really was meant in the honest since. Even though it was somewhat a bad idea for them to go in alone.. well..
"See? Logan will be there." She nods towards Logan, then takes a bite of her food, lifting a fork into the air. "Aff we neef fo do ish to.." She swallows hard. "..follow the kid home and go from there. We'll be just like spies. Right?" She nods towards Logan. "I trust you. You don't need me to say anything."
*
Noemi's cheeks puff out for a moment. "Well," she says, "if you're sure. I suppose I could pretend I'm from his school or child welfare, or something like that." With this she picks up her soda and drains it, /emphatically/.
*
Logan grins, "I don't my share o' spywork over the years. It ain't always easy, but you'd be surprise how willin' people are to believe total bullshit if you tell it with enough enthusiasm," he says. "Jean, I think I have a friend you should meet if you're going to keep having these…hunches," he says. "She might be in a better position to help and have the kind of ties we lack," he says.
*
"I'm sure. Very sure. You got the look for it." The innocent, won't hurt a fly look! Jean was quiet then, chewing upon her food as she gives a slight nod to Logan. "That's.. this all feels strange. Like, like we're going to be doing some real good here." She smiles slightly. "I'd like to meet this friend of yours." Well, it was settled. They have a mission, no matter how bad and inexperienced they were. "I guess we should free up our calendars for the next few days. Well.. not school. We can't skimp on that.."
*