TM 168 -- PARTY!
OOC*-- Takes place after Jean wakes up at Wanda's house, but before the two women talk.
Jean woke up, groggy, in the dark room, checked her messages -- miraculously, nothing else had exploded, though it turned out she hadn't slept very long. Having gotten electronic communications out of the way, she decided that there was one more call she needed to make. Lying back on the bed, she closed her eyes and covered her forehead. Zooming in on the brain pattern of one person who might be anywhere in the world wasn't easy, but she took a guess at a few locations, and she found him in Washington, DC, among a tight cluster of other psyches, and she wasn't sure at first, but. . .
Tony?
The answer came back instantly. Jeannie-with-the-bright-red-hair! I was wondering when I would hear from you. Does this mean we have one of those psi-bonds?
No, Jean snapped.
. . .all the guys. . .
No.
. . .say the best thing about dating a telepath. . .
We do not have a psi-bond! And we're not dating.
All right, all right. And Jean noticed, again, his knack for knowing exactly how far was too far to push her. Do you think they have any more of those little stuffed mushroom things?
What?
Not you. I wonder if Jarvis could learn how to make those.
Stark! I'm talking to you. Focus!
Sorry. Never have been so great at the telepathy thing. My God, what does Tucker Carlson have on his head?
Are you at a party? Jean demanded.
No, he answered, then bending to the obvious, Yes. But I promise I'm not having any fun. Want to see?
And he was clearly more adept at telepathic cooperation than he pretended, because Jean was easily able to slip in behind his eyes, so to speak, and see what he was seeing. There were a lot of men in dark suits, beside older women with short hair and garish dresses. See? Tony continued. They're all Republicans. It's torturously boring. I was thinking of faking a heart attack just to escape, but I was afraid that might set Cheney off. Like chain reaction vomiting.
An ocean and half a continent away, Jean rubbed her temples. There are so many things wrong with what you just said. . .
Don't mention it, Tony answered, lifting a glass of what turned out to be Tom Collins mix, without the alcohol. So what brings you to be eavesdropping on this gala event?
Have you had sex with Paris Hilton? Because Cap seems to think you have?
Jean could feel Tony choking on the drink, but it was entirely worth it.
Dammit, Jeannie, now Orrin Hatch is looking at us. Tony waved and started to wipe his shirt front with a cocktail napkin. He had better not come over here. He thinks I'm the only other sober person at the party, and do you know how much I don't want to talk about the Utah Mormon Heroes right now? He thinks their paychecks should be adjusted to account for the fact that they're expected to tithe.
So, in other words, you have had sex with Paris Hilton.
You believe that because Steve said so? I would bet you my good right arm he doesn't know who Paris Hilton is. That is, I don't think he knows there is a person with that name. He just thinks it's some kind of generic term for a certain type of loose young woman. . .
. . .that you like to have sex with.
Tony let out a heavy sigh and -- well, they definitely weren't psi-bonded, and there was something blocking her from most of his thoughts (SHIELD anti-surveillance tech, no doubt); still, Jean had gone deep enough into his mind that she couldn't avoid his feeling of being overwhelmingly tired. What do you want, Jean? Do you want me to tell you you're my girlfriend?
Of course not. I don't even -- She stopped before she could say 'like you.' It was harder to say to a man, it turned out, once you had looked at the world out of his eyes. I don't even care about that. I just -- I wanted to tell you we got here all right. It seemed like things went okay with Steve and Wanda.
Seemed? Tony was suddenly all business, and Jean couldn't avoid feeling his relief at that. Weren't you there with them?
I was sleeping. I was exhausted from twenty-seven hours on commercial transportation because you wouldn't lend us a damn jet. And Steve's not going to make a run for it. He has too much honor.
And Wanda?
I haven't talked to her yet. I don't know any better than I did yesterday whether this whole amnesia thing is an act.
Tony's hand tightened around his glass. But you have the means to find out.
No. No, Tony. I did not make this trip so that I could psychically spy on the Scarlet Witch. You have to know that something like that could set her off. Even if it wasn't wrong. Which it is. Wrong.
She expected an immediate protest, but instead he stood silently, lifted his glass and turned it around, watching how it caught the light from the host's elegant crystal chandelier. If he was thinking anything, he shielded it well, then sent the next thought her way. I don't know what that means anymore.
And I, Jean answered, am not a Phoenix anymore. Before -- well, before, I probably could have taken her on. Hank McCoy even said, when that whole -- thing happened. Last time. When Wanda altered reality. He said maybe I wasn't part of it because Phoenix was the one thing that could have defeated her. But. I'm not that anymore. That isn't me.
I was just asking, Tony answered evenly.
Well, don't ask. . .Hey, is that Arnold Schwarzenegger?
Now you're changing the. . .oh, dammit, it is the Governator and he's headed this way. Utah's one thing, but do you know how many tax dollars California --?
Go, Jean sighed.
And she broke the link.
Jean woke up, groggy, in the dark room, checked her messages -- miraculously, nothing else had exploded, though it turned out she hadn't slept very long. Having gotten electronic communications out of the way, she decided that there was one more call she needed to make. Lying back on the bed, she closed her eyes and covered her forehead. Zooming in on the brain pattern of one person who might be anywhere in the world wasn't easy, but she took a guess at a few locations, and she found him in Washington, DC, among a tight cluster of other psyches, and she wasn't sure at first, but. . .
Tony?
The answer came back instantly. Jeannie-with-the-bright-red-hair! I was wondering when I would hear from you. Does this mean we have one of those psi-bonds?
No, Jean snapped.
. . .all the guys. . .
No.
. . .say the best thing about dating a telepath. . .
We do not have a psi-bond! And we're not dating.
All right, all right. And Jean noticed, again, his knack for knowing exactly how far was too far to push her. Do you think they have any more of those little stuffed mushroom things?
What?
Not you. I wonder if Jarvis could learn how to make those.
Stark! I'm talking to you. Focus!
Sorry. Never have been so great at the telepathy thing. My God, what does Tucker Carlson have on his head?
Are you at a party? Jean demanded.
No, he answered, then bending to the obvious, Yes. But I promise I'm not having any fun. Want to see?
And he was clearly more adept at telepathic cooperation than he pretended, because Jean was easily able to slip in behind his eyes, so to speak, and see what he was seeing. There were a lot of men in dark suits, beside older women with short hair and garish dresses. See? Tony continued. They're all Republicans. It's torturously boring. I was thinking of faking a heart attack just to escape, but I was afraid that might set Cheney off. Like chain reaction vomiting.
An ocean and half a continent away, Jean rubbed her temples. There are so many things wrong with what you just said. . .
Don't mention it, Tony answered, lifting a glass of what turned out to be Tom Collins mix, without the alcohol. So what brings you to be eavesdropping on this gala event?
Have you had sex with Paris Hilton? Because Cap seems to think you have?
Jean could feel Tony choking on the drink, but it was entirely worth it.
Dammit, Jeannie, now Orrin Hatch is looking at us. Tony waved and started to wipe his shirt front with a cocktail napkin. He had better not come over here. He thinks I'm the only other sober person at the party, and do you know how much I don't want to talk about the Utah Mormon Heroes right now? He thinks their paychecks should be adjusted to account for the fact that they're expected to tithe.
So, in other words, you have had sex with Paris Hilton.
You believe that because Steve said so? I would bet you my good right arm he doesn't know who Paris Hilton is. That is, I don't think he knows there is a person with that name. He just thinks it's some kind of generic term for a certain type of loose young woman. . .
. . .that you like to have sex with.
Tony let out a heavy sigh and -- well, they definitely weren't psi-bonded, and there was something blocking her from most of his thoughts (SHIELD anti-surveillance tech, no doubt); still, Jean had gone deep enough into his mind that she couldn't avoid his feeling of being overwhelmingly tired. What do you want, Jean? Do you want me to tell you you're my girlfriend?
Of course not. I don't even -- She stopped before she could say 'like you.' It was harder to say to a man, it turned out, once you had looked at the world out of his eyes. I don't even care about that. I just -- I wanted to tell you we got here all right. It seemed like things went okay with Steve and Wanda.
Seemed? Tony was suddenly all business, and Jean couldn't avoid feeling his relief at that. Weren't you there with them?
I was sleeping. I was exhausted from twenty-seven hours on commercial transportation because you wouldn't lend us a damn jet. And Steve's not going to make a run for it. He has too much honor.
And Wanda?
I haven't talked to her yet. I don't know any better than I did yesterday whether this whole amnesia thing is an act.
Tony's hand tightened around his glass. But you have the means to find out.
No. No, Tony. I did not make this trip so that I could psychically spy on the Scarlet Witch. You have to know that something like that could set her off. Even if it wasn't wrong. Which it is. Wrong.
She expected an immediate protest, but instead he stood silently, lifted his glass and turned it around, watching how it caught the light from the host's elegant crystal chandelier. If he was thinking anything, he shielded it well, then sent the next thought her way. I don't know what that means anymore.
And I, Jean answered, am not a Phoenix anymore. Before -- well, before, I probably could have taken her on. Hank McCoy even said, when that whole -- thing happened. Last time. When Wanda altered reality. He said maybe I wasn't part of it because Phoenix was the one thing that could have defeated her. But. I'm not that anymore. That isn't me.
I was just asking, Tony answered evenly.
Well, don't ask. . .Hey, is that Arnold Schwarzenegger?
Now you're changing the. . .oh, dammit, it is the Governator and he's headed this way. Utah's one thing, but do you know how many tax dollars California --?
Go, Jean sighed.
And she broke the link.