Arthur rested his elbow on the counter and offered a light smile.
"Don't stress over it. You'll end up getting wrinkles on that pretty little face of yours."
Jean arched an eyebrow.
"Oh? Was that flirting?" she asked with a smile.
"Almost," Arthur replied, smiling back.
"Should I tell your girlfriend?" she teased.
Arthur let out a low chuckle.
"You can. I think she'd like the idea," he said.
Jean blinked, confused.
"You're serious?"
Arthur looked away for a second, thoughtful.
"Let's just say… Gwen has some rather unusual quirks—especially if one of her friends is involved." He sighed in resignation.
More than once, Gwen had tried to nudge him toward a ménage with one of her friends.
"That's… quite unusual. And I feel honored that she considers me a friend, especially after what happened the last time we met," Jean said, laughing.
Gwen and Jean had met in a rather… unconventional way.
In short, Arthur and Gwen had been in the middle of a date when they ran into Jean, who was shopping with Anna Marie—also known as Rogue.
Let's just say Arthur had never felt so pressured by breasts in his life as he had that day.
As for the "last time we met" Jean was referring to—it had been some time ago, when she decided to visit Arthur's house while Gwen was there and thought it would be a good moment to declare war on her over him.
She looked like an anime character that day, he thought with a quiet mental laugh.
"Are you lying to me?" Jean asked.
"Have I ever lied to you?" Arthur replied immediately.
Jean rested her chin on her hand and looked at him with a mischievous smile.
"Actually, yes. You have."
Arthur sighed, shaking his head with a resigned expression.
"Then how about we leave the past in the past, hmm?"
Jean laughed, raising her glass in a toast.
"To selective amnesia," she said.
"And to improbable reunions," Arthur added.
---
"You know something? I had no idea you knew Tony Stark…" Jean said suddenly, raising her eyebrows. "Much less that you were friends."
Arthur looked up, a faint, almost ironic smile forming on his lips.
"Let's just say… it happened unexpectedly. It's a long story."
Jean leaned slightly over the counter, curiosity shining clearly in her eyes.
"I'd love to hear it."
Arthur laughed.
"If that's what you wish…" he said in a resigned tone, though not without a hint of charm. "Let's start from the beginning. You remember my old job, right?"
Jean frowned, trying to recall.
"You mean… when you were a self-defense instructor for the NYPD?"
Arthur let out a soft chuckle.
"…No. Before that."
Her expression shifted instantly. A spark of understanding crossed her face, and her eyes widened slightly.
"Ohh~ I see…" she said in a tone between surprise and curiosity, crossing her arms. "So we're talking about that time."
Arthur simply nodded.
"Well…" he began, lowering his voice almost confidentially, "it all started when I went to investigate who had leaked some of my information…"
Jean straightened up, eyes attentive, body subtly leaning toward him.
---
[A/N: About 3,000 words later]
---
"…And that's how I met Tony Stark."
Arthur finished his story with a half-smile, as if he had just told something trivial—but to Jean, it sounded like an impossible joke.
She blinked a few times, trying to process what she had heard.
"…Okay, wait. Are you serious?" She rested her elbow on the counter and leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. "But what does that have to do with your old job? And more importantly… how did you even end up there?"
Arthur let out a low, amused laugh.
"Right, right, let me think…" He ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "It was an ordinary day—probably a Monday." He made an exaggerated grimace, as if merely mentioning the day was torment. "I hate Mondays."
Jean laughed, shaking her head. "Who doesn't?"
"Exactly," he continued, resting his elbow on the counter. "Anyway, I was trying to have a normal day. Then, out of nowhere, some weird guys showed up and tried to kidnap Gwen. And you know how it is—I'm not exactly the type to ignore that sort of thing. So after I ruined their idiotic plan, I followed one of the guys I let escape. For fun, basically."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "For fun…?"
Arthur shrugged, a faint mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Yeah, fun. Like I said, somehow they managed to get hold of my information and decided it was smart to kidnap my girl to blackmail me. So I decided to infiltrate their base as a prisoner and put an end to everything—while, of course, gathering some information."
Jean let out an impressed whistle, crossing her arms. "Okay, that was… surprising. Even for you. So? Did you find out who leaked your information?"
Arthur laughed—a rough, relaxed laugh of someone who carried the weight of many stories.
"Yes. It was that bastard Deadpool. I have no idea how he found me, but apparently they offered him a few hundred million for the information."
She smiled, though her eyes still watched him with genuine curiosity.
"Ahh~" He stretched casually, removing his apron. "It's getting late… see you, Jean. I've got a few things to take care of at home."
After saying goodbye to her, Arthur spoke briefly with Tony before leaving.
Jean kept watching his back as he walked away when a familiar voice echoed gently in her mind—soft and patient, like a calm wave entering her consciousness:
(Jean, is everything all right? What happened at the party?)
She sighed softly, resting her chin on her hand as she answered silently.
I'm fine, Professor. I just… ran into an acquaintance of ours at the party.
(An acquaintance?) Charles Xavier's voice sounded closer now, curious. (Who?)
Jean let out a quiet laugh, glancing at the half-empty glass still resting on the counter.
You wouldn't believe me, Professor… she replied, laughing as she stood and slowly walked toward the exit.
Outside, the wind stirred her red hair, and Jean lifted her face, gazing at the dark sky.
---
At the same time.
Gwen was upside down, her feet stuck to her bedroom ceiling, still unable to understand how she had ended up there. Her heart pounded wildly, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears.
She looked at her own hands, then at the ceiling, then back at her feet clinging as if they were suction cups.
"What is happening to me?" Her voice came out shaky, filled with pure astonishment.
For a brief moment, panic gave way to fascination. Gwen tried to move, and the sensation was both strange and instinctive—as if her body had just discovered a new law of physics that applied only to her.
"This isn't possible…" she murmured, before letting out a nervous laugh.
"I'm walking on the ceiling…"
---
(End of Chapter)