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[Jean Grey]

There was very little to lift Jean's spirits of late. She had too much time on her hands, so much of it spent on the damage she'd done to her life and the school. She knew that Ororo was still hesitant to accept Jean back, but the girls were slowly regaining ground. And it wasn't as though the redhead blamed her. She'd killed the professor, and no matter how angry or otherwise she'd felt, it was inexcusable. She knew that.

Sighing, Jean sat on one of the benches by the sidelines of the basketball court. She remembered how Scott had played with the boys, how they had played themselves when they were students. And the memories threatened to make Jean cry again.

[Angel]

Angel closed the front door behind him, and makeing his way to the courts. there were no students there, and the "training room" as he called it, was being used by someone else. so he was going to get some practice, and get a chance to spread his wings again.

fiddleing with the orange ball, he looked up, and found Jean to be there. he knew her by face and name only, but, had never really met her. he actualy thought she was dead. guess he was wrong.

he dirbbled the ball once he got onto the black top, and shot, missing the basket by a mile. he was never very good at this game.

"want to practice? or are you going to watch me fail at this?"

[Jean Grey]

Quickly trying to compose herself when she realized she wasn't alone, Jean looked at the boy. Here at the school she knew that mutants didn't have to hide their differences and abilities, and out of habit she knew who this boy was - she knew who everyone was. He was an odd case, but she knew it. Warren, if she remembered correctly.

Lifting the ball with her mind brought a soft attempt at a smile to her face. "I'm not so great either," she said in a gentle voice, even as her powers managed a basket. It was minimal in exertion, and the effort to move things had become so second-nature to Jean that no expression crossed her face at all to reveal that she even knew she was doing it.

[Angel]

"show off." he muttered, retreaveing the ball. holding it under one arm, he shifted the collar of his shirt. the wing-holes were cut odd, as it kept pulling. sticking out his hand, he gave a half-smile.

"Warren." simple statement. but, it was clear what it ment. he hoped. folding his wings closer, he hoped that she didn't mind him being blunt.

[Jean Grey]

Although weary to do so, afraid, Jean touched Warren's offered hand with the tips of her fingers. She didn't know what would happen on contact-after all, the last person she'd touched had been killed. But she was trying to move on with her life. In a moment, she knew what Marie had to have been going through for so long.

"Jean," she answered. It was likely a moot offering, but she was trying.

Noticing that he seemed uncomfortable, she tried to make it easier on him for a moment.

"If the shirt is so uncomfortable, you could always give it to me. I'm sure I could try and make the holes a little bigger for you," she offered softly. It might seem like a somewhat improper suggestion, but she was only trying to help.

[Angel]

"i'll live." he normaly did. if it got bothersome, he's take it off. that, and he was very capable of makeing the holes bigger himself. which he thought of doing after she suggested it.

"so, Jean. i belive i've heard your name around this place."

he never was one for words.