Unspoken: Just a Little Patience... Gone

Just a Little Patience...Gone
by Shana

Rating: PG (some language)

Summary: Meeting Candy per her request in a cafe, Scott gets to confront his best friend's issues, and some of his own.

Timeline: After "Fault Lines"

Notes: Candy needed a fair part before anything happened to her.... *g*

Date: October 7, 2001

The frown she was getting was bordering on infamous. Tapping on the side of her cappuccino cup, Candace Southern sighed at the impassive red lenses across from her and waved away the waitress approaching the table.

The waitress almost seemed grateful.

"So, talk to me before I get really brave and demand you to show me how narrowed your eyes are at me."

Scott Summers growled at the usually prissy blonde and shook his head. His day had been nasty enough, what with the death/near death of Logan and Rogue's apparent new love of a dark, empty and locked room. Hmm, maybe he should be a bit happier to not be there right now... "You made me meet you at a cafe, Candy, not the mansion. Clearly, something's eating you. Care to share?"

She nearly laughed at his response. If he were any more tense his head might explode. "Christ, Summers, maybe we should have met at a bar. I'm wondering about Warren."

About to respond shortly, his attention was diverted by the live musician on the little stage belting out Guns 'n' Roses' "Patience."

Oh, just wonderful timing. Slinking lowering in his chair, glancing at the door, Scott nearly bolted for freedom.

"Well?"

Damn. No escape on the horizon. His frown deepened as he leaned back in the chair. Leave it to a rich little thing to hit a fresh weak spot without trying. "You want him back... again?"

"Eh," she snorted and sipped at her cafe latte. Her relationship with Warren was immensely hard to explain. Fun, but hard to explain, even to his best friend. "'Again' is such a messy term. I'm back, French men bore me, and I got used to the wings... but I've heard things."

"Like, say, about a red headed houseguest?"

Candy nodded, enjoying the relative solitude of the tucked away table. "For a start. She's like you guys, and from what else I hear, not entirely adjusted."

Behind the ruby quartz, his stare darkened. His own fault in Jean Grey's reactions were blessedly clear to him, a wart of guilt to keep him ugly in his own eyes. But then again, his anger over the disruption she created was unignorable. "Warren took her in like a foundling, yeah, how quaint. You have NO idea how much has changed, do you?"

"Oh please. Warren apologised on the phone for turning down a dinner offer last night. The last time he apologised, it was a snowy day in hell and I was being driven to the hospital for a bad reaction to sashimi. Something big is up. Who is she?"

"Just... a woman," he lied. Yeah, right, Summers, tell yourself that enough and one day it'll sink in. "She was brought to us, and since life is hardly," he paused, letting emphasis sink in, "'norm,' we knew there'd be waves, but--"

Candy arched a well manicured eyebrow. "Tsunami?"

He sighed and slumped in the chair. Oh, for the memory of a few months ago to be his current reality. "God damned tsunami. Think they're together?"

"Sex?" She pursed a lip and recalled the phone call she had made to the penthouse. Warren had been closed-mouthed, edgy, even tired sounding. That wasn't him, or the personality she fostered when she was around. Hell, what woman would want anything but the smiling, arrogant version around? "I doubt it. If that wasn't frustration-- and maybe I should blame you for it too-- I'll sell my Farragamo collection."

His stare snapped up from his half-hearted study of the coffee swirling in his cup. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, great, so that IS it. Jesus. So the girl on the phone was right, you're stag again too, and you want the runaway. How bad do you want this new one? Enough to be miserable for a good long while?"

"Candance..."

"Oh, just stop now." She scoffed and pushed her chair away. Standing up and putting out her hand for the shaking, she pulled it back when the custom tailored Oakleys regarded her open offering like a coiled snake. Leave it to Scott Summers to make her feel even more alien than him and his damned secret mutant school. Pulling a ten from her purse and dropping it to the table with a distasteful glare aimed his way, she mustered the last of courtesy. "Been real fun, Summers, but I think I'll talk to a tree over you. When you get your head fixed on straight and want some good girl advice, dig up my cell number at the mansion's rolodex."

Watching the independently wealthy-- //how is it you get surrounded by so much of the good life and can't just plunge in, idiot?//-- heiress make her way out the cafe door with an irritated step, he bit his lip, glanced at the lipstick stained coffee cup on the table and mentally kicked himself.

Lame, real lame. Blame someone who just had questions. Who wanted to get another side of the story. Someone who had no actual role in the mess at home. Hey why not ostracise the rest of New York while you're at it?

"Candy!" Jumping up and moving past tables of curious onlookers, Scott skidded to a stop on the sidewalk as he caught her flagging down a taxi. "Candy, look, I'm sorry, that was rude."

Her gaze remained fixed on the street, her fingers still hailing her escape from the pointless meeting. "Yes, yes, it was."

He held out his own hands helplessly. "Look, what was your actual reason for calling me here?... I mean, you and I never really got along, but that's no reason--"

"No," she corrected, adjusting her jacket to sit higher on her shoulders. Her look wasn't unfriendly, but in her eyes was just the slightest hint of anger. Well restrained, old anger. "You never liked me. I'm a Normal, and your best friend is too good for one of those. Heh. Listen to yourself, Summers, you're a wreck. You've got an ex now back at that damn school, and you're telling me to be careful about some redhead that Warren's got a claim to? Oh, piss off. I came to you because he's your friend and would clear this up for me, but after this charade, I'll just talk to him myself."

Scott backed up and mentally kicked himself again. Clearing his throat, trying for some semblance of pride-- whatever was left anymore-- he took a deep breath and let it spill out from him like a flood. "It's not my fault. One day she-- the new woman-- just shows up at our door under the watchful eye of some... rough ass, and within two seconds, I swear to God, the world turns upside down. Then the redhead-- her name is Jean, by the way-- locks eyes with me for a damned split second and it's like--"

She sighed. "Serendipity?"

He nodded. "Yeah. We share a look and the next thing I know, there's one engagement shot to shit, Marie's playing in the water with Big an' Growly and we freak out an already screwed up woman even more. Jean's hiding at Warren's cause he's the lesser dick. He reached out to her when I wanted to, so yeah, maybe I should give up now. Fuck! They weren't lying and had every right to be doing what they damned well please. I was the ass."

"Not really."

"To her, yes. To my best friend? Definitely. What about you though? Shouldn't you be mad about Warren cheating?"

"No," she shrugged, looking sidelong at the surrendered slump of Scott's shoulders. "Not really." A laugh escaped her lips as she dropped her hand, letting it dangle by her thigh. "But he does know I don't go for redheads."

Scott opened his mouth, let the response sink in fully, then promptly closed his mouth. Forcing away visual images of what really could transpire-- yeah, just what he needed, envy over an open-minded girlfriend-- he shuffled his feet and tried to ignore the knot of tension making the coffee in his stomach unsettle. "So, who'd you call?"

"Huh?"

"At the mansion. To find out what was going on, and to leave that message for me."

"Oh," Candace shrugged. "Jubilee answered the phone. She told me everything in detail, some of it I'd like to forget, even if I could understand it. Then she asked me if I wanted to get in on a bet."

"She didn't really, did she?"

"Oh yes she did. I said no, and that Wall Street was a safer way to invest money. She then called you guys ' love-sickened goofballs.'"

The shuffle of his feet said it all. He wanted to agree, but couldn't let himself verbalise that sentiment.

"So, anyways," Candy continued, "I'll just talk to Warren myself. He's supposed to be in Brooklyn later tonight doing routine inventory on his warehouses, so I'll just be at the right place at the right time."

"Canda-Candy?"

"Hmm?"

"Were you serious, what you said?"

She arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile curling up her cheek. "About not liking redheads? Yeah. Brunette, longer the better. God, I love long hair on women."

Scott openly stammered. "That's not what I meant, but thanks for the great image."

She laughed. Typical male. "Then what?"

"About me..."

"Oh," she shrugged, "yeah, you're a wreck, Summers. Go take a breather from the chaos and figure out what you need. Women are women, and if we see something we want, even if we can't get it, we sure as hell don't forget about it."

"Hmm." Shoving his hands in pants pockets and nodding slowly, he relented the point. He was just SO tired of all the melodrama. Something had to give somewhere, and might just be his heart if he wasn't careful. "Maybe you're right."

Candy turned to face him fully. "So what are you going do?"

His expression gained a dram of determination. Finally he could close a few chapters on his recently screwed up life, pick up the pieces of a shattered fantasy existence. "I'm talking to Rogue one last time, and moving on in my life, wherever the god damn thing takes me."

~*~

Beer and Pretzels by Victoria P.

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Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.