Jean grinned back, giving his hand a firm shake the way her father had taught her when she'd been young. According to Dr. John Grey, the handshake told you everything you needed to know about a man. Why he said it in such sexist language she would never know since she'd never asked when she had the chance. But that was all right. According to dad, a timid handshake, one with limp wrists, spoke of fear and meekness and the Greys were not meek.
Though she wasn't actively reading his mind, it was almost impossible for her to shield out every thought coming at her from the 'public' minds around her and of course, the more he tried to NOT think about anything, the more he would. Fortunately, she was shielding enough that his thought about her hair was only a whisper, one she ignored as a matter of principle.
Taking a seat at the table, she considered his statement a moment, a small crinkle forming between her eyebrows as she tried to think of an answer to that. The problem was, she hadn't thought about what she'd be bringing beyond what the professor had said to her, which she assumed he'd told Jamie, too. Perhaps she shouldn't assumed anything. Did Jamie even know she was a telepath?
"Well..." she started, looking down a moment to try and shut out the voices whispering in her head so she could formulate her thoughts on this subject. "What I bring to the table... is mostly my powers. I'm no fighter. Not like Logan, I mean. I could hold my own against a bully as a kid but, you know, I'm not like... trained. I'm a telepath. I hear thoughts, and I can make myself heard pretty easily, even to people who usually can't hear thoughts. I can also, uh, move things. Telekinetic, I mean. Beds, tables, people... myself..." she shrugged. "In... in my dream... I sort of passed a signal and Professor Xavier and I thought maybe that meant something. Like... like I should be here. To help. Or something."