Challenge #00023: About a Girl
Scott and Sara’s father have a conversation about Sara, Todd, Jean, Duncan and life beyond being a mutant. Bonus if Sara herself makes an appearance.
Sam found him staring at nothing, leaning on a balcony rail and looking teen-serious, aka constipated. “You’re looking flabblegabbed. Sara happen to you?”
“Uh. Yes. Sir. Mr Adrien.”
“You can call me ‘Sam’ if it suits your fancy.” He joined the teen at leaning on the balcony rail. “Deep thoughts?”
“How the– How does she do it? One minute I’m mister sane and sensible, and the next I’m arguing her case and she has this… smile…” His fingers mimed a Cheshire grin.
That was his girl. “Sara has spent her life in the company of some very manipulative people. To her credit, she only uses those powers for others’ good.”
“Wait. So the Toad being here regularly is a good thing?”
Sam gave him a side-eye. “Given Sara’s description of Mr Tolenski,” he took care to emphasise the boy’s real name, “I’d say he was one good samaritan away from complete redemption.”
“But– he’s a thief. A punk.”
“A kid who had both his parents die in an unfortunate event, was pushed about from pillar to post in the foster system before winding up in the thrall of a really bad alleged carer…?”
Scott, who had exactly the same story, glared. “I get it. His story is my story too. The only difference is he–”
“–was not found by the Professor. Did not have what you gained. His story could still have been your story.”
“…there but for the grace of God…”
“Or, at the very least, the Professor and his pet experiment.”
“So Sara is playing Professor for Todd?”
Sam nodded, more at Scott getting the name right than in agreement. “I’d say more… good samaritan. Helping because she sees the potential future for Todd. A future you’ve already gained.”
Scott shivered. “I dunno if she *can*…”
“How long did it take you to overcome your own bad experiences?”
“It took me… oh God… Two *years* to quit hoarding food in my room. I still keep a can of spam and a packet or three of tic-tacs for good luck.”
“And Mr Tolenski is showing remarkable progress in comparison. He’d much rather spend time with Sara than -say- lift anyone’s wallets.”
Scott checked his pockets. “Yeah. Guess.”
Such little faith. “At least extend him the courtesy of knowing where he is by virtue of having been there?”
“That’s a very Sara way of saying it.”
“I’m proud to say I taught her everything I know.” _And that may be your last warning._
“Hrmph…” Scott looked out into nothing for some time. Finally saying, “Why do women always wind up with the jerks?”
“Speaking as a married jerk,” Sam began with a hint of amusement, “I’d have to say I have no idea. Nobody’s a jerk inside their own head. Therefore jerkdom has to be bestowed by others. And, I do believe, everyone’s a jerk to *someone*. My best guess is, the lady doesn’t see the jerkdom. Only that which can be redeemed with differing amounts of effort.”
“Mmmrrrh…”
“But then I’m no expert. My own lady of choice chose to pull against progress rather than push towards it. And I became a jerk by leaving her to do it.”
“I thought jerkdom was bestowed by others?”
“I did indeed say so. But does it make me more or less a jerk to recognize that I’ve done horrible things via bad choices?”
“I’d say not recognizing it is the jerkitude.”
Companionable silence for a moment.
“What’s her name?” asked Sam.
“Who?”
“The lady you have your eye on who happens to be with the jerk.”
Sigh. “Jean.”
“Ah, yes. The famous Jean Grey. Jacquelline…” sigh. His heart still hurt at her name. At the thought of the potential rift between them. “…admires her accomplishments.”
“I admire more.”
“Hmm?” A young man in that state did not need much in the way of encouragement.
“I love the way she sings along with the radio. I love the way she hip-dances when she cooks. I love watching her eat. It’s so… graceful. I love the way she combs her hair, the thousand little things she does. I love her strength, her power… the way she can take a picture of just anything and turn it into beauty and… I just wish she’d see me 'that way’. Instead of some goofy brother or something.”
“Would you win her, if you could?”
“Uh. Jean’s a woman, not a tchotchke at the fun fair? I’d much rather win the honour of having her decide to stay with me.”
“Noble way of putting it.”
“Yeah. Noble. It’s kinda like being the 'nice guy’ only with less of the creeperdom. And more invisible for it.”
“Her choices are hers. You respect her enough to let them remain so. You can’t love every part of her and exclude the one part where she acts independently of you.”
“Even when she chooses to go out with Duncan Matthews.” The way he said that name with a sneer told the rest of the story.
“I’ve heard about him, too. Though less glowingly from everyone else except Jean and Jacquelline.”
“He thinks he can get away with it because he’s a football star…”
“And society will let him maintain that illusion until such time as he stops being so. And like all illusions, it will soon leave disharmony in its wake.”
“Not soon enough for me…”
“Amen to that thought, gentlemen,” said Sara, scaring them both out of their skins. “Alas, such things can not be made to happen.”
“And don’t start working on it, my little Machiavelle,” teased Sam.
“Also, it’s dinnertime. Coming down?”
“Of course.”
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