Scott and Jean, Tuesday morning

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott and Jean are a little weird. Just banter here, along with Mysteriously Appearing Pencils.


The pair of pencils stuck into her bun made sense- they were keeping her hair out of her face. The one behind her ear had clearly been forgotten about, and the one trapped between her teeth was a sign that Jean was too distracted to stop herself from reverting to bad habits. It was the one tapping against the book in front of her that was really the one pencil too much. Occasionally it would stop tapping to make a few notes or because she had to turn the page, but other than that it didn't stop, and it was pretty clear she wasn't even aware she was doing it.

Scott, standing in the open doorway of her suite, was trying manfully not to laugh. Oh, for a camera... He came in, closing the door quietly behind him, and wasn't all surprised when she didn't look up from the book. He knew all too well what kind of level of concentration Jean could manage; this wasn't in the slightest bit abnormal.

Debate, of course. If Maddie doesn't want it, I'll do the anatomy course, and Ro and I talked about me doing just a Shakespeare course so she can do more modern stuff. Will talk to Nate, too... Her mind was full of plans, clearly caused by the pile of files and notes spread around her. Taking over Nathan's history course had simply reminded Jean how much she enjoyed teaching, and hit home how much she wanted to still be an active part of the school. Of course, Scott or Charles was likely to tell her that she was aiming to be too active, but she could worry about that later.

"You," Scott said, "are not planning to do six classes or something similarly crazy, right?"

The pencil stopped tapping as Jean looked up. "Oh, hi, Scott," she said, or tried. At which point she realized there was a pencil in her mouth and blushed. The pencil removed, she tried again with greater success. "Hi, Scott. Um... no?"

"You have pencils sticking out of odd places," Scott said helpfully. He reached up, taking the one from behind her ear. He left the ones in her hair alone, though. "It's really extremely cute."

The pencil being removed was the first Jean realized it had been there. "The thing is, I'd swear I sat down with just the one... Although I'm not sure which one that was."

Scott hesitated, then did remove the ones from her hair, grinning helplessly. "Like a pencil-hedgehog," he teased.

Her hair falling around her shoulders again, Jean pushed it back to tuck it behind her hears. "Hmph," she told him. "If I were a pencil hedge-hog the leads would have been pointing out, not in holding the hair up. And do I tease you about your strange 'I'm working too hard, please stop me' habits? Oh, wait. Yes, I do."

Scott leaned over, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Tit for tat," he volunteered. "I think that's fair..."

"Fine, but I'm going to remember this the next time you're holed up in your office developing blisters on your fingers from typing too hard." Turning her head slightly, Jean kissed the edge of his mouth.

The sudden, almost unbearable rush of happiness left Scott a bit shaken. "I'm still pinching myself periodically, you know," he murmured.

"No bruising, I hope, or shall I play doctor?" She snaked her arms over his head to give him a backwards hug. "I know what you mean, though. Especially since I think my shields have gotten stronger, which is also a bit of a dream come true. That, or I'm just a little too preoccupied with you..."

"Well, if they are, it's a good thing, right? And if they are just because you're preoccupied... I could be even more distracting if you wanted."

She chuckled slightly. "It all being part of the greater good, right?"

"Right. I have nothing but altruism in mind, really. You know me." He straightened - his knee was protesting - and smiled at her. "So, can I pull you away from the class notes for a bit?"

"Tell me if you think there's enough demand for a pure Shakespeare class or if I should plan on doing all classic lit, and then yes." It wasn't telekinesis, because she still didn't have control back, but she was clearly manifesting pencils from somewhere - when she let go so he could stand up one had practically materialized in her hand.

"Hmm. I think you'd get more than you think for pure Shakespeare," Scott said after a moment, thoughtfully. "And that they'd enjoy it." He didn't comment on the pencil.

"And that's another vote for. Excellent." Turning her head to jot a few notes down, her face disappeared behind her hair as it inevitably fell over her face. "Blasted stuff," Jean muttered, pushing it back and tucking the pencil behind her ear to keep it there.

Of course, that left her without a pencil in her hand, but that didn't last long...

Scott was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. "Jean? Back away from the pencils, Red, this is getting creepy."

It was good to know that her pencil hurling skills had also not completely deteriorated, Jean thought as the one she had been holding thumped Scott on the chest. "Do not mock the woman with the number twos," she advised.

"But you're so adorable when you're being indignant at me," Scott protested, the smile tugging helplessly at his lips.

Jean tugged the pencil free from behind her ear and shook it at him. "I have graphite and I'm not afraid to use it..."

He pouted at her. It was rather shameless, and he honestly thought he'd forgotten how to do it... but on the other hand, it was rather like riding a bike.

Oh, the pout. Fighting the pout took willpower and preparation, and Jean wasn't that inclined to fight it. "Put away the pout of mass destruction, I surrender the pencil." And, indeed, standing up she set the pencil down and flipped her notebook closed.

The pout turned into a grin. "Of course you do," he said tranquilly, knowing full well he was taking his life in his hands. "There's no defense."

"Oh ho?" Jean arched an eyebrow at him. "Awfully confident, aren't we?"

"Hey, you can't argue with results," Scott said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Says the man who loses track of conversations when I cross my legs..." she smirked at him.

"That's not the same thing. Your legs are the eighth wonder of the world." Oh, he was being silly. But it felt so good... so right.

"Regardless, they have served as defense against the pout of mass destruction. I distinctly remember a trip to see Beauty and the Beast on Broadway with the twins when they were five..."

Laughing, Scott went over and flopped happily on the couch. "The scary thing? Five or not, I think they knew damned well what you were doing..."

"Well, they certainly knew I was winning." She grinned at him.

"Ganging up on me. You started teaching them young, shame on you..."

"It was my auntly duty, right alongside spoiling them rotten." Now she was up and away from the books she didn't quite feel like sitting down again, but she compromised with the desire to be closer by settling onto the arm of the couch, pulling one leg up for balance. "And soon I'm going to get to practice on Hank's baby, too."

"I'm supposed to be helping him paint the nursery this afternoon," Scott said thoughtfully.

"Sounds fun. Also, knowing you two, probably messy. And he never did tell me which of the five shades he was still thinking about he decided on."

"I'm going to make him wear head-to-toe plastic wrap, I think. Otherwise you just know he'll get paint in his fur." Scott laughed.

"Oh, now, there's an image that is going to be with me all day. Just remember that it's not oxygen permeable, and take pictures, and I think it will be perfect."