Owner	Pose
Logan	The weather isn't far from turning now. The bitter cold of winter has passed away, and cool breezes coupled with warm nights are on the distant horizon. None of it means all that much to Logan, having not felt the cold - real cold, anyway - in more years than he can remember. But it's nice to watch it all change, to see the world moving forward. To remember that despite all their problems big and small, it all rolls on ahead. He's wearing a denim jacket lined with lambs wool, the collar popped up. He's forsaken cigars, instead throwing flat and smooth stones out across the lake. They skip, occasionally tripping up on floating chunks of ice that haven't quite melted away to nothing yet. In his other hand he holds a metal flask, clearly filled with something 'nourishing'. "Of all the money that e'er I had," he sings under his breath, confident in his solitude either rightly or wrongfully, "I spent it in good comp'nee ... "
Jean Grey	Jean, on occasion, has been known to fly around in the cold void of space... or to caress the surface of a burning star. Nonetheless, her far more mortal attire reflects the uncertainy of when winter is finally going to throw in the towel. A few warm days, and then warnings of a winter storm... and then they'll probably swing right back. Which is all a fancy way to say she wears a big comfy dark green sweater over some heavy tights, and a little pom wool cap to keep warm as she enjoys a walk on the property. It's one of the biggest perks of the school, of living in this area in general, as, despite any cosmic odysseys, she has for most of her life: having nature right in your back yard. Whether it's Logan's singing voice or the splish-splash of stones across the water that tips her off, she turns to make a little detour on her walking path. There's no sneaking up on Logan, but she still makes a little surprising game of her arrival, as one of those stones skips, skips, skips... and then pauses, before making a rather odd U-turn before coming bouncing back toward the shore. "Uh oh! That one's out of control!" she declares, aghast and concerned!
Logan	"Hey, Red," Logan says, tilting his head down to look at the rocky shore and making a rather pitiful attempt at masking the grin that parts his weathered features for a moment, "Sorry about that. Weren't a bag of drownin' cats you heard by the way, just my singin' voice." Another stone in his hand, he turns it around a moment before squinting one eye shut and leveling it out to his side. Then, with a snap-flick of his elbow, he sends it skipping out to intercept the stone under Jean's control. Aiming to strike it and send them both sinking down into the inky black. "Nightcap?" he asks, waving the flask in her direction after taking a swig of it himself, "Nothin' fancy. People keep buyin' me Glenlivet and I just put it in the closet and buy Fireball from the Bella Vino. Cinammon, though. Can't say no to that."
Jean Grey	"Oh, it wasn't as bad as all of that, really," Jean offers reasuringly. For her, a smile is never anything to hide, and she's as bright and sunny in visage as she ever is. "Though I wouldn't give up the ninja-hunting business for the big lights on Broadway just yet, if I were you. Ooh, nice shot." It's definitely a little more impressive when he does it the old fashioned way, compared to her Jedi Mind Tricks! With Jean's stone sunk, she watches the ripples that echo out from its last known position a little mournfully, and then turns back, her eyes flicking to the flask as Logan gives it that sloshing jiggle. Her immediate instinct is a Headmistress-like 'I shouldn't,' but something restrains THAT impulse, and instead, she gives a somewhat more mischievious reply. "Sure, why not. Could use a little warm-me-up." Said by someone who assuredly has the background to know that's not how any of that works, physiologically. She reaches for the flask, takes a sip... And THIS is supposd to be the star-eater? It burns. She coughs. "Ooh, wow. You should keep one of the fancy bottles around as back up, for the odd chance you might have to impress a wandering lady." Still, she takes one more sip, managing a little better, before handing it back.
Logan	"Jus' somethin' I like to do sometimes," Logan says of the singing with a shrug, "Don't remember where I heard the song, but it's always stuck with me in spite a' everythin'." He stops trying to hide the grin once she takes a sip, letting her hang onto the flash for now. He ceases tossing stones, letting the couple remaining in his hands fall to the shore with a clatter. His chin juts out as he looks off over the lake, eyes tracking something on the distant shoreline even if it's not readily visible to less enhanced senses. "Why d'you think I'm keepin' it all squirreled away? Waitin' for that wanderin' lady." He reaches to take the flask when she finally offers it back, tucking it in his coat pocket. "Missed seein' you, y'know?" he offers out of the blue, the cold wind rustling his typically-implacable hair, "I mean, when we ain't out fightin' for our lives or teachin' the little sprogs what's what."
Jean Grey	"Well all sing in the shower from time to time, or in the car with the radio blasting." No judgment from Jean! "And whatever that was, I'd take it any day of the week, over hearing the freshman screaming that dumb alphabet song again..." There's a pause, and a brief look of horror. Wait, is she no longer down with what the kids are doing? Is Jean getting OLD?! This aside, she trades in the bright smile for a slightly more narrowed, suspicious look: "Oh, so bring them back to the shack first, huh?" Of course, any actual displeasure in it is a put-on for comedic effect, and the grin cracks in a moment later. "Hmm, but now that I know about it..." She draws out that pause, until it's almost a tease. "... we oughta bust in and throw ourselves a party on your stash. Before the students do the same thing, anyway." The last remark softens her look a little, although after a brief and more considered pause, she breaks back in with something lighthearted again. "Missed seeing me? When I'm not lost in pocket climate in the middle of Antarctica, or in the vast depths of space, I'm usually right about..." She turns around, finds the mansion in the distance, and points. "...there, most of the day." For effect, she glances back and forth twice more, and pauses for effect. "Too long a commute?"
Logan	"You know all you gotta do is whistle an' I'll come runnin'. Throw a party an' I'll be there with the hooch. Don't gotta tell me twice." Logan's grin flitters slightly when Jean speaks, nodding his head in response to the list of wild and distinctly X-Men adventures that the Headmistress has gotten herself into in recent months. He snorts a laugh, shoulders rolling a little. "Well, you got me there," he admits, "I s'pose I figured you'd be busy. Tellin' some misbehavin' brat what's what, or writin' another research paper. Y'know, I tried to read one of 'em, once? Almost understood it. That's a feather for yer little knitted cap there." There's a touch of trepidation in the way he reaches out to gently sock her in the upper arm with the calloused knuckle of a balled-up fist. "But y'know what I mean. Shootin' the shit. Don't get much opportunity for it."
Jean Grey	"Oh, I was thinking of busting in there with the gals and drinking it all before you got back," Jean explains, as if this was perfectly obvious. "But I SUPPOSE we could let you in on the fun, what with it being... your secret stash and all that." After that she gives a bit of a shrug, turning her attention out over the water. "Well, you're not really wrong. Running a live-in school, there's pretty much always something going on, whether classes are happening or not." The bit about indecipherable academic material merits a slightly more arch look. "I'm not one-hundred precent sure if that's a complaint or a compliment. I enjoy it, though. That kind of thing... living up to the Professor isn't always easy. Or, I guess it's a challenge. But it feels good, when I can present some new work, feels like I'm not just up there for me, but for the whole school." The indellible mark of the first class, of being a student long before she was any of those other things. From this brief reverie of thought, the sock in her arm pulls her back, laughing a bit, glancing down. "I know what you mean. So... don't be a stranger? Come on by and shoot the shit. I promise I won't kick you out of my office to do budget spreadsheets." She glances up and down the shore. "Not that it isn't nice down here and all, but it's a -little- harder to make an excuse that I'm still doing my job if I spend the days sitting on the dock, dangling my toes in the water, you know?" Jean lets a couple seconds pass. "Till summer at least. Then the kids are off class at least, and it's swim season. Always nice to come down for a dip."
Logan	"Yer right,' Logan admits, looking out at the water as the overcast clouds drift away to let the moonlight dance on the ripples that still remain from the skipping stones, "I mean, part a' why I moved back into the Big House is 'cause I wanted to be around. Didn't want to be feelin' sorry for myself out in a shack. Had ya right there, an' all I'm doin' is findin' places to be by myself again." The Canuck lets out a deep sigh, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he lets the chill and that same light of the moon wash over his face. "Ahh, I dunno. Maybe that's how it oughta go. Never been nothin' but trouble before." His hands are plunged back into the pockets of his coat, shoulders hunching up as he does do. "Or maybe I say damn it all an' ask what you think a' that little roller-skater diner in town? Y'know the one Rogue used to bus for?"
Jean Grey	"Family's loud and messy, and ours is about as big and crazy as they come. But it's got the advantage of always being there, y'know? Doesn't care how long it's been." Despite that push, Jean's tone is ultimately warm and understanding. "So, you do what's comfortable, at whatever pace is comfortable. But I, for one, could certainly use the occasional distraction from the daily monotony of being a serious grown-up with a big, fancy job. Can't put that all on Anna-Marie, either. She's got her own proper job now." This seems to dovetail slightly with where Logan's wandering thoughts have led him, albeit with a somewhat abrupt kind of turn. "I know it, sure. Nice little place. Cute uniforms, too." Mhm. Ultimately, her initial answer is a little more literal, suggesting two lines of conversation that have angled just past each other. But Jean is, if anyhting in the whole world, far from oblivious to what people really mean. So she turns a little, to look him dead-on, putting one hand on a slightly cocked hip. "Do you mean," and she does the kindness of spelling it out for him, "'Would you like to grab something together there, sometime?'" There's a forewardness now, but it's also lightly chastizing, for effort of having to do that part for him. After a moment, that fades, but she's left sounding exasperated, instead. "All of you make this so damn hard, you know?" Who's he getting lumped in with?! "Of course I'd enjoy it. You know that perfectly well. But it's - it starts to feel a little unfair. /Family/ waits, and doesn't care how long its been," she repeats, echoes. "But that's... harder for two people, you know?"
Logan	"Jeanie, I've been waitin' years," Logan says, a faint grin still on his face though it's more sheepish than anything else, "An' forgive me if I'm not askin' right. Never really been good at the whole courtin' thing. More likely to get thrown in some mess an' come out on the other side wonderin' what the hell happened." His hands still in his pockets, he digs the toe of his boot into the sand and twists it about. No real goal, just the sort of idle manuevre that comes with not being sure of what to say next. Or at least how to say it. His thoughts are readable, even if the the metal in his skull obfuscates them some. "I get it. I do. An' I'm gonna do myself a favor an' be upfront with you - you got the right of it. Guess the way I see it is I've got a lot a life left in me. More than a man ought to have. If I gotta wait for you, I will."
Jean Grey	"Who told you to wait?!" Despite the exasperation, or maybe, exactly because it's that... she's not angry. It's a sense of frustration that she doesn't quite know how to grapple with. "Agh." Jean pushes her hands up her face, under the cap and back through her hair before lacing her fingers at the back of her neck as she tilts her gaze skyward. When she collects her thoughts, looks at him again, there's one more a sense of mild annoyance, disbelief and lack of understanding, particularly as he finds more words to elaborate. "I can't imagine where you'd ever have gotten the impression, that I'm so... fancy, or whatever it is, that requires elaborate courting ettiquette. I grew up an hour's drive from here. And not toward the city!" An important distinction, round these parts. "So that just feels like another damn excuse." When she's vented this, Jean pulls her hands back around, across her face and down, like she was washing up. "What am I supposed to do with that? 'Ok, well, then wait around, I'll get back to you eventually'? Even if that's nothing to you, it's still - it makes me cruel, doesn'it it? It's not the right way to treat a person. And it's not fair to put me there, to remind me that whatever I do, you'll always be there, pining." Those physical gestures having ceremonially cleansed whatever outburst, Jean centers a bit, standing straighter. "It's a lot to put on me. And I just don't know. Going out on a cute little date? Honestly? It sounds great. It also sounds weird going somewhere I used to meet my -current- girlfriend. Should I ask her along? Have her wear her uniform?" Pause. "Don't answer that." She shakes her head again, takes a first step back. "I gotta... Thanks for the drink."
Logan	"Doesn't makes you cruel, makes you a real person," Logan answers, another roll of his shoulders, "An' way I see it, it's easy to forget about reality all wrapped up in here with special powers and globe-trottin' jaunts to dinosaur land. Sometimes shit don't line up an' all you can do is feel bad about it. Ain't cruel. Ain't evil. You just take that scar an' see what's next." He lifts a hand, waving slightly with a rueful look still on his face. "Shouldn't a put you in that spot. Or kept you there, neither. But yeah ... it was a nice talk." He reaches down to pick up another smooth, flat stone. He looks at it in his hand for a moment before he tucks it in his pocket, walking off in the opposite direction.