Scott and Tessa, 25/10/13
Oct. 25th, 2013 06:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainScott and Tessa play risk, then go for a walk by the lake. Also, there may be some mushiness.
She was kicking his ass. Again.
Not literally, though Scott had no doubt that she could. Figuratively, though, Tessa was destroying him in a game of RISK.
He wondered when he'd learn to stop playing her.
Tessa appeared to be dividing her time between studying the map and the tablet computer in her lap. The game had unfolded more or less as she had predicted, certainly within an acceptable margin of error, and though it was still certainly possible that Scott might manage to achieve a surprise victory, it was also quite unlikely.
Not that winning was the point, exactly, at least not as far as she was concerned. For the cyberpath, this was a pleasant pretext for spending time with a friend that happened to double as a(n admittedly primitive) gauge of his strategic ability. Had their relative strengths on the board been reversed, she would have enjoyed the exercise just as much.
"I currently project total victory in twenty-six turns," she reported. "I suspect, however, that you would prefer to play the game out to its conclusion."
"You suspect correctly," Scott murmured. He began plucking his armies for the next turn from their container. As he counted them out, he mused, "You know, the problem with this game is it removes the human element."
"Quite so," Tessa agreed, retrieving her own pieces for the coming turn while watching to make certain Scott did not succumb to his occasional impulse to achieve victory without regard for the rules. "It is so abstracted from reality that it is difficult to achieve any sense of triumph in victory. Comparable to an overly cumbersome version of checkers."
"And yet here you are." He flashed her something between a smirk and a smile and began to deploy his troops. And maybe one or two extra. "Cumbersome checkers or no."
"The company is agreeable," the cyberpath said by way of explanation, electing not to call attention to her opponent's incidental breach of the rules. "And without proper teams of actual people to lead in competition, I suppose this is the nearest available approximation."
"Yeah," Scott agreed, deadpan, "the headmasters weren't too fond of my battle dome idea."
"It may be too soon to begin pitting the students against each other, even as a training exercise." Tessa's tone implied that she did not necessarily agree with that line of thinking, but was prepared to go along with it for the present. "Even if such training would serve an eminently practical purpose."
He grew more serious as he finished his turn. "We need to train like that. That's what will happen, eventually. We'll have to fight our own."
"It has already happened," she observed. "Whether of their own volition or not, mutant adversaries will inevitably arise. It is only practical to expand our practical training to include such unfortunate contingencies."
"Normally when I say shit like that, people tell me I'm paranoid." His smirk returned, albeit muted. Scott turned in three cards, and began counting out his additional forces. "But if you're saying it, too....well, it's at least something of a sign that I'm not completely crazy."
Tessa, to all appearances, was wrapped up in studying the board. "Not completely crazy, certainly," she noted wryly. "These are times of extraordinary change. Human civilization is called upon to respond to an unprecedented transformation within a small segment of its populace. A variety of responses is inevitable. Equally inevitable is the emergence of violent extremes of behavior as they, and we, attempt to evaluate which methods of interaction function in a desirable way, and which do not."
"I won't be surprised if it gets ugly," Scott agreed. "I'd be more shocked if it didn't."
"The weight of history seems to favor such an assumption," she said, shifting a few pieces on the board--though not, it appeared, in accordance with either an obviously hostile or defensive strategy. "Responses can be expected to run the gamut, and our dilemma is to prepare for them all, to protect ourselves from some and most advantageously capitalize upon others."
He looked up and attempted to meet her eyes through red stone. "I have a list. Of stuff we should do, things that we need. But I think you're envisioning something even more encompassing."
"I have certain ideas which might in time prove useful," she acknowledged demurely. "However, I suspect that future events will increasingly place me in an advisory role, first and foremost, and an active one only occasionally. It will likely fall to others to ensure we are prepared for whatever we may be obliged to do."
It wasn't the first time she'd said something like that, but this time Scott wasn't going to let it pass by. "Why?"
"I must objectively weigh all options before me," she said. "From that vantage, it seems increasingly probable to me that I would be a more effective asset to the Institute if I had no direct or obvious affiliation with it."
'No direct or obvious affiliation with' the school. Direct affiliation, like being there. Or an obvious one, like being a student. Sure, it was remotely possible that he was reading too far into it, but Scott felt his stomach tighten just a little. "I seriously hope you aren't suggesting that you're considering leaving."
Tessa's eyes flickered from the board to Scott's impenetrable ruby-quartz gaze and back quickly. "I am not merely suggesting it. I have considered the proposition at length and in great detail, including it's ramifications for the school as well as myself. Logically, there is much to be gained from such a move. Our cause, beyond merely safeguarding the school, could gain much through the action of an outside operative with my capabilities. And the risk to the students would be minimized."
"So you've made the unilateral decision that this is something you're actually going to do." His voice wasn't angry, it wasn't even raised. If anything, it was rigidly controlled.
Never let them see you bleed.
Sitting back in her chair, the cyberpath calmly folded one leg over the other and, this time, she met his eye--or as near as she could come, given the difficulties presented by Scott's unique eyewear. "If you have an objection that is not rooted in attachment rather than reason, I would be more than willing to hear it. I do not propose this course of action because I wish to, or because I think my happiness will be enhanced by doing so. But it is strategically sound. And I will by no means be unavailable to you, or to any of my other friends, simply because of my altered living arrangements."
Scott leaned back too, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered her from across the board. Even her abbreviated way, she'd made good points. There was a great deal of intel to gather outside, people to influence - Tessa could do both of those things. And if she were to actually sever ties with the school while doing those things, it would be safer. Of that Scott had no doubt.
On the other hand, that wasn't the be-all end-all of it. "This school is a stockpile of TNT. Who do you propose advises it in your absence?"
"There are a number of cooler heads that might prevail," said Tessa. "The Professor and Headmaster Lensherr are not likely to allow anything precipitous to occur. You, Philip, Lydia, Arthur, Betsy; I could go on. My advice, while occasionally useful, is certainly not indispensable. And I will still be available to you as a resource, should you require me. I simply will no longer be immediately at hand--though I never will be so far away that I will be unable to respond quickly to an emergency."
"All very able people," Scott agreed. Though he occasionally disagreed with any number of them. "But they don't think like you. Some of them...they don't understand what might be necessary."
"And your ties would hardly be cut if you are on-call."
"Some of them, certainly," she conceded, "but not all of them." Tessa gave his second observation due consideration--a process requiring barely the time required to draw another breath, then, "Not precisely on-call--at least, not in any conspicuous or traceable way. But available. I will make the arrangements necessary to ensure that should you require me, you can feel at liberty to do so without jeopardizing the security of the school. To outside observers, it will be easily dismissed as happenstance."
He smirked, attempting to hide his uncertainty behind snark. "There is no such thing as coincidence."
"You and I know that," she agreed, nodding. "But others seem willing to take it on faith. Particularly overworked employees of both government and sinister faceless bio-engineering syndicates. And I can virtually guarantee that the coincidence will seem slender, indeed."
"It's not the bureaucrats and lackeys we need to be concerned with. But their bosses, the ones with the actual agenda...I wouldn't trust them overlooking it. If it was me, and I wanted to knock down a nest of people, I'd track all of their communications, and I'd make sure I knew who they went to." Scott realized not everyone would be so thorough. And Tessa was probably right, that the chances where slim, but they weren't zero, either.
One corner of Tessa's mouth edged upward slightly, but there was no warmth in her expression, and her eyes were deathly cold. "Granted. But they are few. And they are limited by their human faculties. I perceive trends in data on a level most minds would find incomprehensible. In a direct contest between us, Scott Summers, you would do well to wager on me. I've been out-thinking," and destroying, "my would-be adversaries since puberty. I'm not about to begin making foolish mistakes now."
"I"m not saying you will." And Scott wasn't. Tessa was one of, if not the, most competent people he knew. "I'm discussing your decision. Is that not allowed, since you're - " walking out "- leaving?"
"If it were not allowed, I would not have entertained our conversation this far," she told him. "I value your insight, and you should not consider my failure to concur with your assessment a dismissal. But I am capable of taking care of myself. And removing the risk I present from the school is worth the enhanced personal danger."
He knew she could take care of herself. Believed it like he believed in few things, really. Scott was more concerned for the people who crossed her than he was for Tessa herself. She could be ruthless, even too ruthless, when she decided she should be.
"So you're going." He focused his eyes on the board where they were three-quarters of their way through the game. It was easier than looking at her. "Guess I'll never beat you then."
It was easier to say than what he wanted to.
"One day, I suspect you will," said Tessa. Then, she did something she rarely did: she reached across the board to place her hand over Scott's. "But yes. I am going. Do not think it a final good-bye; you will see me again. It eases my mind considerably to know that I leave the Institute and the other students in capable hands. And should you require me for any purpose, you need only contact me."
"Not my hands." Or at least Scott hoped not. He swallowed. "I'm not ready."
Tessa gave the back of his hand a squeeze before withdrawing hers again. "Perhaps not just yet," she conceded. "But sooner than you may think. You already have everything you require to succeed; you only need to harness it." She smiled faintly. "And if you ever appear to be on the verge of making any grievous misstep, rest assured I will never be too far away to correct you. Firmly, if necessary."
Scott smirked, but it was a little sad. "I'm sure you will."
"Do not take that as an invitation for deliberate error," she told him sternly. Tessa watched Scott for a moment, then glanced down at the stylized world map. "I find my enthusiasm for the game somewhat diminished. I believe I will concede." The cyberpath rose, and stepped away from her chair. "You may leave the board and pieces in place; I will put them away later. For now, I would prefer a walk around the grounds. Will you join me?"
He'd been about to offer to put the pieces away when she'd invited him to go with her, and he looked up at her (a function of him still being seated) in slight surprise. "You want me to come? Uh...yeah, sure. I guess."
Scott stood, and pushed in his chair before tucking his hands into his pockets. "When?" When was she leaving? When should he try to be ready?
Fuck. He wasn't going to say it out loud, but he was going to miss her.
Nodding, Tessa folded her hands behind her back and set out upon the most direct route between her current position and the outdoors. "Immediately following Halloween," she informed him. "I decided I could permit myself one last student gathering without seriously impeding my productivity.
"And I will miss you, too." It might never be obvious--or even faintly apparent--but her own attachments, the ones she'd made despite herself in her time at the Xavier Institute, would endure long after she had ceased to walk its halls as a student.
"I'm sure you'll fill the void." He was nothing all that special, after all. "So you're going to the Halloween party, then?"
"I am," the cyberpath nodded. "And you? I know that such gatherings are not typically your preferred method of spending your free time, but the Halloween party has taken on the weight of tradition. Or so I am given to understand."
"Haven't decided yet." Scott generally wasn't into the big, party-type gatherings. Usually he only went when someone had specifically asked him to, and even then it was a toss-up. He already knew, though, that if Lydia wanted him to go, he'd end up there. It was just a question of whether or not she cared and how long he'd pretend to hold out. "And I'm not entirely sure that one year can make something a tradition."
"I did not suggest that it was properly considered tradition," she suggested mildly. "Only that it appeared to carry that significance. Youth can create venerability in a variety of events that are repeated regularly over time."
He really should've known better than to argue semantics with Tessa. So he changed the subject to something that was probably a little more important anyway. "You gonna tell them?"
"Affirmative," Tessa said. "Those for whom I feel a greater personal affection, I intend to inform in person. For the rest, I believe electronic means will be sufficient."
He considered asking who she had told already, but then thought better of it. He didn't want to know where he ranked. Scott figured he was just lucky she'd even thought to tell him in person. Instead, he figured, he just wouldn't mention it to anyone. Not until she'd informed everyone by "electronic means."
"You have a plan? For after you leave?"
She smiled at the question, a far fuller one than she typically offered. Of course she had a plan. And it was equally certain that Scott was perfectly aware of that fact already, and was engaged in attempting to uncover further details through more oblique means than asking outright. As if Tessa would ever entertain such a circumspect approach, where one of her friends was concerned.
"I do," she said.
"Feel free to further elaborate," he said dryly.
"I plan to do away with my current persona--or, at least, modify it into something more serviceable. I'm currently browsing modest living space in Salem Center and nearby suburbs, as well as transportation. And, of course, I will require an occupation if I am to blend inconspicuously into my surroundings. Fortunately, I have one in mind. One which will allow me to combine several useful functions."
Scott waved his hand, as though saying 'go on.' After all, saying she had an occupation in mind that would allow her to combine several useful functions was hardly descriptive of what that job actually was. He wanted details. Hell, he wanted every detail.
He had a brief flashback to some school shrink somewhere several schools ago who'd told him he should do something productive when he started feeling the need to micromanage every aspect of his life, his relationships, and the world around him. Somehow, though, walking off to clean his room again seemed rude.
"It has come to my attention that a former student of the Institute has founded a freelance paranormal investigations agency in Salem Center," she acceded. "Taking a position there would be a fairly effective camouflage for my information-gathering activities, as well as a route into areas of inquiry that otherwise might have failed to occur to me. Moreover, it is an excellent pretext for keeping the mutant in question under careful surveillance, now that he has left the school."
The picture he was getting here was less than ideal. "You're going to go work with Salvatore."
"Not quite," Tessa said. "As far as the world at large will be concerned, I will be working for him. As cover stories go, I can certainly conceive of worse."
Scott snorted. "No one with more than three brain cells could possibly think you're working for him." She was at least twice as smart as Damon was. At least.
The cyberpath laughed silently. "That is very kind of you to say," she told him, looping an arm through his. "But the question of our relative intelligence is not really relevant. The point is not to celebrate my capabilities, but to conceal them. His current venture seems ideally suited to achieving that objective. In fact, I think it will be an arrangement that proves beneficial on multiple levels for all concerned parties."
"I will feel safer knowing you're around to throat punch him," Scott mused. He didn't miss a step as she casually touched him, which spoke louder than anything he'd said so far. The people who he let that close were few and far between.
"Throat punching will be the least of his concerns, should he give me cause to resort to physical correction," said Tessa. She understood the significance of the casual contact she had initiated, and she also knew Scott well enough not to draw direct attention to it. She simply filed it away in her perfect memory, to draw upon later should it be required. "Though I hope to keep him sufficiently distracted with profitable expeditions into the occult that it does not become necessary."
"Profitable expeditions into the occult." He smirked slightly. "You sound like the History Channel."
"Material success in such ventures often follows a certain, predictable formula," she allowed. "Emulating existing models is a relatively safe strategy. Particularly when the occupation in question rouses no particular passion," or much interest, beyond passing curiosity, "in me."
"And you don't think two teenagers hunting ghosts is going to draw attention?" Scott asked. He wasn't saying that they would, necessarily, but it seemed like a definitely oddity. Especially up here in well-to-do Westchester. New York, maybe, it wouldn't be as weird. "Especially when one of them is as needlessly flashy as Salvatore?"
"In terms of age-appropriate norms, I admit such an occupation would be a distant outlier," said Tessa. "But needless flash is as important to the formula as rigorous skepticism. Given the current level of saturation of such themes in present-day pop-consciousness, I do not think we will attract an unmanageable level of local celebrity." It wasn't what either of them wanted, after all. "Particularly not when I am selecting which prospective investigations we undertake."
Scott was quiet for a long moment. "I trust you," he finally said. A huge statement. Massive. He said that to very few people, and meant it even less often. "I don't trust him."
"Taking all relevant factors into consideration, it is probably for the best that you do not," she nodded. "Fortunately, an intimate level of trust is not necessary. Approached correctly, he will not act against his manifest best interest. And I am reasonably certain I can convince him this arrangement would advance both our interests. Besides," another small smile, "he owes me."
He raised his eyebrows and gave her a look that clearly said, 'go on.'
Waving a hand briskly to indicate it was not great matter, Tessa said, "I provided him some aid in re-establishing himself following his withdrawal from the Institute. Licensing and other documentation to legitimize his business. Assistance of that nature."
"Oh." Scott wasn't sure that that was something he would've done, but he could understand why Tessa might have. He was equally less certain that Damon typically honored favors with giving them in return. That said, this arrangement would benefit Salvatore, and Scott did trust the other teen to do what was in his own best interest. Usually. "Got it."
The corners of Tessa's mouth curved upward. "You need not concern yourself unduly, Scott," she said. "I do not think it will require a tremendous application of persuasive influence to convince Damon of my usefulness. And will you feel no small reassurance at the knowledge that I will be in a position to keep him under observation and temper some of his more questionable impulses with reason?"
"I always feel better when I'm kept from having to come up with bail money for homicide," Scott assured her dryly.
"Peculiarly enough, I think your predilection for caustic hyperbole is one of the constants I will miss most."
He smirked. "Peculiar is right," he agreed. Scott glanced at the ground for a moment and then said, "You know you can call me. If you need anything."
"Of course," she affirmed, without need for extensive reflection--even in the vastly accelerated terms of her own thought processes. "Reciprocally, I extend to you the same assurance, without reservation. Should you require my advice or assistance for any reason, you have only to apprise me of that fact."
"How?" Given Tessa's penchant for and knowledge of security, she could prefer anything from cell phones, to email, to thinking loudly.
"That is likely to be dictated by circumstance. If time is not an urgent factor, Ellie or Betsy should be able to reach me telepathically with little difficulty. However, should they be unavailable, or in the event of a more pressing emergency, use whatever means come most readily to hand; I should be able to eliminate or otherwise render nugatory any data trails that might result. I will, of course, provide you with my mundane contact information."
Scott nodded and tried to pretend that sensation he felt wasn't relief. They walked in companionable silence for a moment, though his mind was churning. Finally, he asked, "So...since you're leaving...have you ever read my mind?"
"Your criterion for posing this question is unusual," Tessa observed. Still, she had always been as direct as necessity permitted with Scott, up to that point. There was no extremely compelling reason to do anything less now. "I have, but never a deep scan; your most obvious surface thoughts are difficult to ignore, in any case. I have never penetrated beyond them. Still," she added slowly, "it is, perhaps, worth noting that occasionally memories and feelings that one might wish were locked down and inaccessible do make themselves heard, in a fragmentary, disjointed kind of way. So I cannot claim that I have never intercepted anything from your consciousness that you would prefer I had not."
"Like what?"
"Snippets, pieces of memory. Helplessness and loss. Lack of control. Very small pieces of an extraordinarily complex puzzle." One that she was more than capable of piecing together, between her psionic abilities and vast intelligence-gathering capabilities. She was aware that Scott had something to hide, but she had never been quite able to bring herself to breach his privacy entirely. What details she did know were enough.
Scott swallowed, but nodded. That was more than he'd have hoped, but he trusted Tessa not to screw him over with it. At least, not unless it would serve the greater good for her to do so. And if it would, he guessed he couldn't bitch about her doing it. "Thanks. For telling me."
Her head bowed in acknowledgement. "It is nothing. Take care of yourself and the others when I am gone, and we will call it even."
"Not sure what you expect me to do. They're a pretty strong-willed group."
"As are you, I have noticed," Tessa countered. Then, "I would not ask you to undertake anything beyond your capabilities. Simply protect our home to the best of your ability. I suspect it is something you would do in any event. But it may enhance your morale to know you do so with my explicit approval."
Like hell if he was going to admit that outloud. Even though it was true. You're laughing at me, mentally, aren't you? Go on, let it all out.
Not today, she informed him. Today, my sense of levity is subdued.
It was the first time they'd had an actual exchange that way -- in deference to Scott's overdeveloped sense of privacy, more than anything else. So he was somewhat surprised by how it felt. He didn't know that, if forced to describe it, he could ever give it a precise explanation. But it was...different. "Guess I'll have to take advantage of it and get all of my stupidity out now, then."
"Even for you, that might prove impossible," Tessa told him dryly. "But feel free to get out as much as possible. I may always remember it, but I will never tell."
Scott snorted. "Of all the memories to keep from this place, that one really doesn't seem worth it."
"I will keep all of my memories, regardless of what I might prefer," she said. "And I will be the one to decide their individual worth. The time I have spent with you will be among the most valued, I think."
He couldn't help flushing lightly. Scott knew it was stupid, but...he respected Tessa. Her opinion mattered, and he was embarrassingly pleased that she might actually value him, too. As more than just a pawn, even.
Goddammit. He was going to miss her. He knew she already knew, but his mind was stuck on a loop. They couldn't all think like Tessa.
She did not comment upon his thoughts again. Instead, she said, "Let us walk to the shore of the lake. It is, I find, an apt setting to complete one's farewells."
"You make it sound like you're dying or something," Scott muttered. He had no idea what he was doing - how the hell did you say good-bye to someone you actually liked? It wasn't like he had much experience with it. People were ripped away or they were people he didn't care about. Once he cared...well, at least so far, he'd never let anyone go.
"Nothing so dramatic," Tessa replied, mildly amused, but far from mocking. "Certainly not any time in the foreseeable future, so long as I remain capable of influencing events around me. But such opportunities as these will become scarce, in the months to come. I simply wish to enjoy this one to the utmost, in recognition of that fact."
That was such a fucking Tessa thing to say. "I can't believe you're leaving."
The statement seemed to puzzle her, and she turned her face toward Scott fully. "Why not?"
Because every one always leaves and I trusted you. Because you just...fit here, with the school. Because you're Tessa. He had a million reasons he refused to tell her, and that he hoped she didn't hear. "I just can't."
She returned her consideration to the lake, which by then lay blue and sparkling before them. "I see." She was silent for a handful of heartbeats, seemingly committing the familiar scene to memory once again. "Do not confuse diminished proximity with diminished affection. I intend to return as often as I am able for squad training, and I will remain near enough at hand that casual association will not be tremendously challenging. It will be an adjustment for us all, but not one beyond our capabilities."
Scott managed to smirk slightly. "I appreciate the vote of confidence."
"I have long had the utmost confidence in you, Scott Summers. That is not a new development."
Tessa didn't say things she didn't mean - at least not without reason, and she didn't have any right now. He blushed and let his gaze drop to the ground as they continued on down towards the lake. "Thanks.
That faint smile once again played at the edges of her usual, clinical expression. "Think nothing of it."
He shook his head and gave her a serious kind of look. "It means a lot. Of course I'll think something of it."
"What a curiously gratifying notion," Tessa mused. "Thank you."
Scott blushed lightly, but shrugged. "No reason to thank me. It's true." Well, at least he'd saved showing her that he was secret an awkward moron for near the end of her studies.
She was kicking his ass. Again.
Not literally, though Scott had no doubt that she could. Figuratively, though, Tessa was destroying him in a game of RISK.
He wondered when he'd learn to stop playing her.
Tessa appeared to be dividing her time between studying the map and the tablet computer in her lap. The game had unfolded more or less as she had predicted, certainly within an acceptable margin of error, and though it was still certainly possible that Scott might manage to achieve a surprise victory, it was also quite unlikely.
Not that winning was the point, exactly, at least not as far as she was concerned. For the cyberpath, this was a pleasant pretext for spending time with a friend that happened to double as a(n admittedly primitive) gauge of his strategic ability. Had their relative strengths on the board been reversed, she would have enjoyed the exercise just as much.
"I currently project total victory in twenty-six turns," she reported. "I suspect, however, that you would prefer to play the game out to its conclusion."
"You suspect correctly," Scott murmured. He began plucking his armies for the next turn from their container. As he counted them out, he mused, "You know, the problem with this game is it removes the human element."
"Quite so," Tessa agreed, retrieving her own pieces for the coming turn while watching to make certain Scott did not succumb to his occasional impulse to achieve victory without regard for the rules. "It is so abstracted from reality that it is difficult to achieve any sense of triumph in victory. Comparable to an overly cumbersome version of checkers."
"And yet here you are." He flashed her something between a smirk and a smile and began to deploy his troops. And maybe one or two extra. "Cumbersome checkers or no."
"The company is agreeable," the cyberpath said by way of explanation, electing not to call attention to her opponent's incidental breach of the rules. "And without proper teams of actual people to lead in competition, I suppose this is the nearest available approximation."
"Yeah," Scott agreed, deadpan, "the headmasters weren't too fond of my battle dome idea."
"It may be too soon to begin pitting the students against each other, even as a training exercise." Tessa's tone implied that she did not necessarily agree with that line of thinking, but was prepared to go along with it for the present. "Even if such training would serve an eminently practical purpose."
He grew more serious as he finished his turn. "We need to train like that. That's what will happen, eventually. We'll have to fight our own."
"It has already happened," she observed. "Whether of their own volition or not, mutant adversaries will inevitably arise. It is only practical to expand our practical training to include such unfortunate contingencies."
"Normally when I say shit like that, people tell me I'm paranoid." His smirk returned, albeit muted. Scott turned in three cards, and began counting out his additional forces. "But if you're saying it, too....well, it's at least something of a sign that I'm not completely crazy."
Tessa, to all appearances, was wrapped up in studying the board. "Not completely crazy, certainly," she noted wryly. "These are times of extraordinary change. Human civilization is called upon to respond to an unprecedented transformation within a small segment of its populace. A variety of responses is inevitable. Equally inevitable is the emergence of violent extremes of behavior as they, and we, attempt to evaluate which methods of interaction function in a desirable way, and which do not."
"I won't be surprised if it gets ugly," Scott agreed. "I'd be more shocked if it didn't."
"The weight of history seems to favor such an assumption," she said, shifting a few pieces on the board--though not, it appeared, in accordance with either an obviously hostile or defensive strategy. "Responses can be expected to run the gamut, and our dilemma is to prepare for them all, to protect ourselves from some and most advantageously capitalize upon others."
He looked up and attempted to meet her eyes through red stone. "I have a list. Of stuff we should do, things that we need. But I think you're envisioning something even more encompassing."
"I have certain ideas which might in time prove useful," she acknowledged demurely. "However, I suspect that future events will increasingly place me in an advisory role, first and foremost, and an active one only occasionally. It will likely fall to others to ensure we are prepared for whatever we may be obliged to do."
It wasn't the first time she'd said something like that, but this time Scott wasn't going to let it pass by. "Why?"
"I must objectively weigh all options before me," she said. "From that vantage, it seems increasingly probable to me that I would be a more effective asset to the Institute if I had no direct or obvious affiliation with it."
'No direct or obvious affiliation with' the school. Direct affiliation, like being there. Or an obvious one, like being a student. Sure, it was remotely possible that he was reading too far into it, but Scott felt his stomach tighten just a little. "I seriously hope you aren't suggesting that you're considering leaving."
Tessa's eyes flickered from the board to Scott's impenetrable ruby-quartz gaze and back quickly. "I am not merely suggesting it. I have considered the proposition at length and in great detail, including it's ramifications for the school as well as myself. Logically, there is much to be gained from such a move. Our cause, beyond merely safeguarding the school, could gain much through the action of an outside operative with my capabilities. And the risk to the students would be minimized."
"So you've made the unilateral decision that this is something you're actually going to do." His voice wasn't angry, it wasn't even raised. If anything, it was rigidly controlled.
Never let them see you bleed.
Sitting back in her chair, the cyberpath calmly folded one leg over the other and, this time, she met his eye--or as near as she could come, given the difficulties presented by Scott's unique eyewear. "If you have an objection that is not rooted in attachment rather than reason, I would be more than willing to hear it. I do not propose this course of action because I wish to, or because I think my happiness will be enhanced by doing so. But it is strategically sound. And I will by no means be unavailable to you, or to any of my other friends, simply because of my altered living arrangements."
Scott leaned back too, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered her from across the board. Even her abbreviated way, she'd made good points. There was a great deal of intel to gather outside, people to influence - Tessa could do both of those things. And if she were to actually sever ties with the school while doing those things, it would be safer. Of that Scott had no doubt.
On the other hand, that wasn't the be-all end-all of it. "This school is a stockpile of TNT. Who do you propose advises it in your absence?"
"There are a number of cooler heads that might prevail," said Tessa. "The Professor and Headmaster Lensherr are not likely to allow anything precipitous to occur. You, Philip, Lydia, Arthur, Betsy; I could go on. My advice, while occasionally useful, is certainly not indispensable. And I will still be available to you as a resource, should you require me. I simply will no longer be immediately at hand--though I never will be so far away that I will be unable to respond quickly to an emergency."
"All very able people," Scott agreed. Though he occasionally disagreed with any number of them. "But they don't think like you. Some of them...they don't understand what might be necessary."
"And your ties would hardly be cut if you are on-call."
"Some of them, certainly," she conceded, "but not all of them." Tessa gave his second observation due consideration--a process requiring barely the time required to draw another breath, then, "Not precisely on-call--at least, not in any conspicuous or traceable way. But available. I will make the arrangements necessary to ensure that should you require me, you can feel at liberty to do so without jeopardizing the security of the school. To outside observers, it will be easily dismissed as happenstance."
He smirked, attempting to hide his uncertainty behind snark. "There is no such thing as coincidence."
"You and I know that," she agreed, nodding. "But others seem willing to take it on faith. Particularly overworked employees of both government and sinister faceless bio-engineering syndicates. And I can virtually guarantee that the coincidence will seem slender, indeed."
"It's not the bureaucrats and lackeys we need to be concerned with. But their bosses, the ones with the actual agenda...I wouldn't trust them overlooking it. If it was me, and I wanted to knock down a nest of people, I'd track all of their communications, and I'd make sure I knew who they went to." Scott realized not everyone would be so thorough. And Tessa was probably right, that the chances where slim, but they weren't zero, either.
One corner of Tessa's mouth edged upward slightly, but there was no warmth in her expression, and her eyes were deathly cold. "Granted. But they are few. And they are limited by their human faculties. I perceive trends in data on a level most minds would find incomprehensible. In a direct contest between us, Scott Summers, you would do well to wager on me. I've been out-thinking," and destroying, "my would-be adversaries since puberty. I'm not about to begin making foolish mistakes now."
"I"m not saying you will." And Scott wasn't. Tessa was one of, if not the, most competent people he knew. "I'm discussing your decision. Is that not allowed, since you're - " walking out "- leaving?"
"If it were not allowed, I would not have entertained our conversation this far," she told him. "I value your insight, and you should not consider my failure to concur with your assessment a dismissal. But I am capable of taking care of myself. And removing the risk I present from the school is worth the enhanced personal danger."
He knew she could take care of herself. Believed it like he believed in few things, really. Scott was more concerned for the people who crossed her than he was for Tessa herself. She could be ruthless, even too ruthless, when she decided she should be.
"So you're going." He focused his eyes on the board where they were three-quarters of their way through the game. It was easier than looking at her. "Guess I'll never beat you then."
It was easier to say than what he wanted to.
"One day, I suspect you will," said Tessa. Then, she did something she rarely did: she reached across the board to place her hand over Scott's. "But yes. I am going. Do not think it a final good-bye; you will see me again. It eases my mind considerably to know that I leave the Institute and the other students in capable hands. And should you require me for any purpose, you need only contact me."
"Not my hands." Or at least Scott hoped not. He swallowed. "I'm not ready."
Tessa gave the back of his hand a squeeze before withdrawing hers again. "Perhaps not just yet," she conceded. "But sooner than you may think. You already have everything you require to succeed; you only need to harness it." She smiled faintly. "And if you ever appear to be on the verge of making any grievous misstep, rest assured I will never be too far away to correct you. Firmly, if necessary."
Scott smirked, but it was a little sad. "I'm sure you will."
"Do not take that as an invitation for deliberate error," she told him sternly. Tessa watched Scott for a moment, then glanced down at the stylized world map. "I find my enthusiasm for the game somewhat diminished. I believe I will concede." The cyberpath rose, and stepped away from her chair. "You may leave the board and pieces in place; I will put them away later. For now, I would prefer a walk around the grounds. Will you join me?"
He'd been about to offer to put the pieces away when she'd invited him to go with her, and he looked up at her (a function of him still being seated) in slight surprise. "You want me to come? Uh...yeah, sure. I guess."
Scott stood, and pushed in his chair before tucking his hands into his pockets. "When?" When was she leaving? When should he try to be ready?
Fuck. He wasn't going to say it out loud, but he was going to miss her.
Nodding, Tessa folded her hands behind her back and set out upon the most direct route between her current position and the outdoors. "Immediately following Halloween," she informed him. "I decided I could permit myself one last student gathering without seriously impeding my productivity.
"And I will miss you, too." It might never be obvious--or even faintly apparent--but her own attachments, the ones she'd made despite herself in her time at the Xavier Institute, would endure long after she had ceased to walk its halls as a student.
"I'm sure you'll fill the void." He was nothing all that special, after all. "So you're going to the Halloween party, then?"
"I am," the cyberpath nodded. "And you? I know that such gatherings are not typically your preferred method of spending your free time, but the Halloween party has taken on the weight of tradition. Or so I am given to understand."
"Haven't decided yet." Scott generally wasn't into the big, party-type gatherings. Usually he only went when someone had specifically asked him to, and even then it was a toss-up. He already knew, though, that if Lydia wanted him to go, he'd end up there. It was just a question of whether or not she cared and how long he'd pretend to hold out. "And I'm not entirely sure that one year can make something a tradition."
"I did not suggest that it was properly considered tradition," she suggested mildly. "Only that it appeared to carry that significance. Youth can create venerability in a variety of events that are repeated regularly over time."
He really should've known better than to argue semantics with Tessa. So he changed the subject to something that was probably a little more important anyway. "You gonna tell them?"
"Affirmative," Tessa said. "Those for whom I feel a greater personal affection, I intend to inform in person. For the rest, I believe electronic means will be sufficient."
He considered asking who she had told already, but then thought better of it. He didn't want to know where he ranked. Scott figured he was just lucky she'd even thought to tell him in person. Instead, he figured, he just wouldn't mention it to anyone. Not until she'd informed everyone by "electronic means."
"You have a plan? For after you leave?"
She smiled at the question, a far fuller one than she typically offered. Of course she had a plan. And it was equally certain that Scott was perfectly aware of that fact already, and was engaged in attempting to uncover further details through more oblique means than asking outright. As if Tessa would ever entertain such a circumspect approach, where one of her friends was concerned.
"I do," she said.
"Feel free to further elaborate," he said dryly.
"I plan to do away with my current persona--or, at least, modify it into something more serviceable. I'm currently browsing modest living space in Salem Center and nearby suburbs, as well as transportation. And, of course, I will require an occupation if I am to blend inconspicuously into my surroundings. Fortunately, I have one in mind. One which will allow me to combine several useful functions."
Scott waved his hand, as though saying 'go on.' After all, saying she had an occupation in mind that would allow her to combine several useful functions was hardly descriptive of what that job actually was. He wanted details. Hell, he wanted every detail.
He had a brief flashback to some school shrink somewhere several schools ago who'd told him he should do something productive when he started feeling the need to micromanage every aspect of his life, his relationships, and the world around him. Somehow, though, walking off to clean his room again seemed rude.
"It has come to my attention that a former student of the Institute has founded a freelance paranormal investigations agency in Salem Center," she acceded. "Taking a position there would be a fairly effective camouflage for my information-gathering activities, as well as a route into areas of inquiry that otherwise might have failed to occur to me. Moreover, it is an excellent pretext for keeping the mutant in question under careful surveillance, now that he has left the school."
The picture he was getting here was less than ideal. "You're going to go work with Salvatore."
"Not quite," Tessa said. "As far as the world at large will be concerned, I will be working for him. As cover stories go, I can certainly conceive of worse."
Scott snorted. "No one with more than three brain cells could possibly think you're working for him." She was at least twice as smart as Damon was. At least.
The cyberpath laughed silently. "That is very kind of you to say," she told him, looping an arm through his. "But the question of our relative intelligence is not really relevant. The point is not to celebrate my capabilities, but to conceal them. His current venture seems ideally suited to achieving that objective. In fact, I think it will be an arrangement that proves beneficial on multiple levels for all concerned parties."
"I will feel safer knowing you're around to throat punch him," Scott mused. He didn't miss a step as she casually touched him, which spoke louder than anything he'd said so far. The people who he let that close were few and far between.
"Throat punching will be the least of his concerns, should he give me cause to resort to physical correction," said Tessa. She understood the significance of the casual contact she had initiated, and she also knew Scott well enough not to draw direct attention to it. She simply filed it away in her perfect memory, to draw upon later should it be required. "Though I hope to keep him sufficiently distracted with profitable expeditions into the occult that it does not become necessary."
"Profitable expeditions into the occult." He smirked slightly. "You sound like the History Channel."
"Material success in such ventures often follows a certain, predictable formula," she allowed. "Emulating existing models is a relatively safe strategy. Particularly when the occupation in question rouses no particular passion," or much interest, beyond passing curiosity, "in me."
"And you don't think two teenagers hunting ghosts is going to draw attention?" Scott asked. He wasn't saying that they would, necessarily, but it seemed like a definitely oddity. Especially up here in well-to-do Westchester. New York, maybe, it wouldn't be as weird. "Especially when one of them is as needlessly flashy as Salvatore?"
"In terms of age-appropriate norms, I admit such an occupation would be a distant outlier," said Tessa. "But needless flash is as important to the formula as rigorous skepticism. Given the current level of saturation of such themes in present-day pop-consciousness, I do not think we will attract an unmanageable level of local celebrity." It wasn't what either of them wanted, after all. "Particularly not when I am selecting which prospective investigations we undertake."
Scott was quiet for a long moment. "I trust you," he finally said. A huge statement. Massive. He said that to very few people, and meant it even less often. "I don't trust him."
"Taking all relevant factors into consideration, it is probably for the best that you do not," she nodded. "Fortunately, an intimate level of trust is not necessary. Approached correctly, he will not act against his manifest best interest. And I am reasonably certain I can convince him this arrangement would advance both our interests. Besides," another small smile, "he owes me."
He raised his eyebrows and gave her a look that clearly said, 'go on.'
Waving a hand briskly to indicate it was not great matter, Tessa said, "I provided him some aid in re-establishing himself following his withdrawal from the Institute. Licensing and other documentation to legitimize his business. Assistance of that nature."
"Oh." Scott wasn't sure that that was something he would've done, but he could understand why Tessa might have. He was equally less certain that Damon typically honored favors with giving them in return. That said, this arrangement would benefit Salvatore, and Scott did trust the other teen to do what was in his own best interest. Usually. "Got it."
The corners of Tessa's mouth curved upward. "You need not concern yourself unduly, Scott," she said. "I do not think it will require a tremendous application of persuasive influence to convince Damon of my usefulness. And will you feel no small reassurance at the knowledge that I will be in a position to keep him under observation and temper some of his more questionable impulses with reason?"
"I always feel better when I'm kept from having to come up with bail money for homicide," Scott assured her dryly.
"Peculiarly enough, I think your predilection for caustic hyperbole is one of the constants I will miss most."
He smirked. "Peculiar is right," he agreed. Scott glanced at the ground for a moment and then said, "You know you can call me. If you need anything."
"Of course," she affirmed, without need for extensive reflection--even in the vastly accelerated terms of her own thought processes. "Reciprocally, I extend to you the same assurance, without reservation. Should you require my advice or assistance for any reason, you have only to apprise me of that fact."
"How?" Given Tessa's penchant for and knowledge of security, she could prefer anything from cell phones, to email, to thinking loudly.
"That is likely to be dictated by circumstance. If time is not an urgent factor, Ellie or Betsy should be able to reach me telepathically with little difficulty. However, should they be unavailable, or in the event of a more pressing emergency, use whatever means come most readily to hand; I should be able to eliminate or otherwise render nugatory any data trails that might result. I will, of course, provide you with my mundane contact information."
Scott nodded and tried to pretend that sensation he felt wasn't relief. They walked in companionable silence for a moment, though his mind was churning. Finally, he asked, "So...since you're leaving...have you ever read my mind?"
"Your criterion for posing this question is unusual," Tessa observed. Still, she had always been as direct as necessity permitted with Scott, up to that point. There was no extremely compelling reason to do anything less now. "I have, but never a deep scan; your most obvious surface thoughts are difficult to ignore, in any case. I have never penetrated beyond them. Still," she added slowly, "it is, perhaps, worth noting that occasionally memories and feelings that one might wish were locked down and inaccessible do make themselves heard, in a fragmentary, disjointed kind of way. So I cannot claim that I have never intercepted anything from your consciousness that you would prefer I had not."
"Like what?"
"Snippets, pieces of memory. Helplessness and loss. Lack of control. Very small pieces of an extraordinarily complex puzzle." One that she was more than capable of piecing together, between her psionic abilities and vast intelligence-gathering capabilities. She was aware that Scott had something to hide, but she had never been quite able to bring herself to breach his privacy entirely. What details she did know were enough.
Scott swallowed, but nodded. That was more than he'd have hoped, but he trusted Tessa not to screw him over with it. At least, not unless it would serve the greater good for her to do so. And if it would, he guessed he couldn't bitch about her doing it. "Thanks. For telling me."
Her head bowed in acknowledgement. "It is nothing. Take care of yourself and the others when I am gone, and we will call it even."
"Not sure what you expect me to do. They're a pretty strong-willed group."
"As are you, I have noticed," Tessa countered. Then, "I would not ask you to undertake anything beyond your capabilities. Simply protect our home to the best of your ability. I suspect it is something you would do in any event. But it may enhance your morale to know you do so with my explicit approval."
Like hell if he was going to admit that outloud. Even though it was true. You're laughing at me, mentally, aren't you? Go on, let it all out.
Not today, she informed him. Today, my sense of levity is subdued.
It was the first time they'd had an actual exchange that way -- in deference to Scott's overdeveloped sense of privacy, more than anything else. So he was somewhat surprised by how it felt. He didn't know that, if forced to describe it, he could ever give it a precise explanation. But it was...different. "Guess I'll have to take advantage of it and get all of my stupidity out now, then."
"Even for you, that might prove impossible," Tessa told him dryly. "But feel free to get out as much as possible. I may always remember it, but I will never tell."
Scott snorted. "Of all the memories to keep from this place, that one really doesn't seem worth it."
"I will keep all of my memories, regardless of what I might prefer," she said. "And I will be the one to decide their individual worth. The time I have spent with you will be among the most valued, I think."
He couldn't help flushing lightly. Scott knew it was stupid, but...he respected Tessa. Her opinion mattered, and he was embarrassingly pleased that she might actually value him, too. As more than just a pawn, even.
Goddammit. He was going to miss her. He knew she already knew, but his mind was stuck on a loop. They couldn't all think like Tessa.
She did not comment upon his thoughts again. Instead, she said, "Let us walk to the shore of the lake. It is, I find, an apt setting to complete one's farewells."
"You make it sound like you're dying or something," Scott muttered. He had no idea what he was doing - how the hell did you say good-bye to someone you actually liked? It wasn't like he had much experience with it. People were ripped away or they were people he didn't care about. Once he cared...well, at least so far, he'd never let anyone go.
"Nothing so dramatic," Tessa replied, mildly amused, but far from mocking. "Certainly not any time in the foreseeable future, so long as I remain capable of influencing events around me. But such opportunities as these will become scarce, in the months to come. I simply wish to enjoy this one to the utmost, in recognition of that fact."
That was such a fucking Tessa thing to say. "I can't believe you're leaving."
The statement seemed to puzzle her, and she turned her face toward Scott fully. "Why not?"
Because every one always leaves and I trusted you. Because you just...fit here, with the school. Because you're Tessa. He had a million reasons he refused to tell her, and that he hoped she didn't hear. "I just can't."
She returned her consideration to the lake, which by then lay blue and sparkling before them. "I see." She was silent for a handful of heartbeats, seemingly committing the familiar scene to memory once again. "Do not confuse diminished proximity with diminished affection. I intend to return as often as I am able for squad training, and I will remain near enough at hand that casual association will not be tremendously challenging. It will be an adjustment for us all, but not one beyond our capabilities."
Scott managed to smirk slightly. "I appreciate the vote of confidence."
"I have long had the utmost confidence in you, Scott Summers. That is not a new development."
Tessa didn't say things she didn't mean - at least not without reason, and she didn't have any right now. He blushed and let his gaze drop to the ground as they continued on down towards the lake. "Thanks.
That faint smile once again played at the edges of her usual, clinical expression. "Think nothing of it."
He shook his head and gave her a serious kind of look. "It means a lot. Of course I'll think something of it."
"What a curiously gratifying notion," Tessa mused. "Thank you."
Scott blushed lightly, but shrugged. "No reason to thank me. It's true." Well, at least he'd saved showing her that he was secret an awkward moron for near the end of her studies.
