Scott and Jean
Oct. 17th, 2005 06:33 pmExhausted after helping Lorna, Jean comes to find Scott. He tells her something which, while she doesn't disagree, is guaranteed to make her unhappy.
Scott sighed, resting his head in his hands for a moment as he gathered his composure. The Situation Room was quiet around him, the only noise the slight hum of the computer. He'd just saved his report, such as it was. If only that qualified as closing the book on what had happened.
Jean watched him from the doorway - he'd been so caught up in everything that she didn't think he knew she was there and she didn't have the energy to disturb him. The door jam was doing a very good job of keeping her on her feet.
There was a flicker on the link and he looked up. "Hey," he said quietly. "I was just doing the necessary paperwork. About all I can do, just now..."
"Hey. When all else fails, paperwork?" Actually, paperwork was starting to sound good. Simple. Straightforward. And completely lacking in any requirement to talk someone into dying.
"Mmm." Scott stared a bit blankly at the screen of the computer. "Have you ever wondered how much simpler our lives would be if I'd aimed at Erik's head on Liberty Island?" It struck him that it was the first time he'd used the man's name in... well, years.
Jean didn't answer for a few moments. Finally she said, "Stryker would have won. We'd all have been dead." The shock at seeing Erik below them, holding the jet as though it was nothing and smirking up at her echoed in Jean's mind. There would not have been any coming back from that death.
"Ah, but would he have ever gotten access to the mansion, without having had access to Erik in prison," Scott said softly, still staring at the computer screen. "I suppose it's pointless to play what-ifs. It's just that there's part of me that wishes... a bad part, mind you, and it will scuttle back off into the shadows promptly, I'm sure..." He trailed off, shaking his head a little.
"He had Jason, though," Jean said, remembering the unfortunate young man who'd only been a student for a few months before his father had yanked him out of the school again. "Who knows what other plan he'd have come up with. The what-if game is so hard to play..."
"I don't know what to think, security-wise," he said softly. "I feel like shit, focusing on that instead of Lorna, but what she could have told Magneto..." Magneto. Not Erik. "Physical security can be adapted, heightened if it has to be... and really, I'm not sure how good it would be against him if he ever came knocking anyway. But it's what she could have told him about the team. The new team members, the ones the son of a bitch doesn't know like the back of his hand..." It had been a potential strategic advantage, and it was gone now. Totally.
"Well, to some extent, worrying about that is your job, Scott. Don't blame yourself for doing your job." Turning to the work was easier than thinking about the past... "And, when she can talk about it, Lorna ought to be able to tell us what she told him. She does remember... everything." And blamed herself for it.
"Charles will do what he can to help Lorna," Scott murmured. "Moira, too, I'd imagine, and Leonard... I'm concerned about how Alex will take it."
Jean sighed. It really was just the left over stress and frustration that was offering up the response 'Like a wet noodle, what else?' and she did her best to keep the thought away from the link.
Scott tried not to choke. "I just wish I could disagree," he said with a sigh. "I don't..." He shifted a little in his seat, feeling vaguely disloyal. "He's not... very resilient, at the best of times."
#Ah... ooops?# "It's not fair for me to compare him with you, you're different people and you had such different lives." But she still couldn't escape the thought that Scott could never have been so... passive.
"He's got to get over that, now," Scott said quietly. "For her. I hope he can. She's going to need him."
"Yes, she is." Sighing, Jean stood up, pushing away from the door. "Are you done down here, or is there still work, or the desire to work? Cause I need to go sleep..."
Scott raised his hands in a helpless gesture, but then looked increasingly unhappy as he met her eyes. "Jean... we need to talk. About the wedding."
Jean's eyebrows raised in surprise and confusion. "We do...?" she asked, sounding hesitant. Well, that was a hell of a subject change, she devoutly hoped.
Scott swallowed. "I think we've got to postpone it," he said quietly. "I hate to say it."
She pursed her lips, not quite scowling, but really not sure how he'd come to that decision. "Why?" she asked.
"After this?" he said with a sigh. "Does it feel like the right time to you anymore, Jean? Because it doesn't to me, and maybe that's unreasonable, I don't know... I want this more than I can say. You know that. It's just..." He trailed off, troubled.
Oh, and now she was scowling. "Scott, I understand but... This month it's Lorna, and last month it was Haroun, and in August Nate took a coatrack to the head and you were pulled through a wall. Are we expecting things to calm down? Are you thinking, oh, October was a bust, well, maybe November will be better?"
Scott sighed again. He slid off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes, then put them back on. "Alex won't come," he said quietly. "At least one of the command teams, and a good portion of our teammates, won't be able to come, because we can't strip the mansion."
"I'm not... I'm not arguing. You're right, and I know it. I just..." Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned away. "I just really need the crazy to stop for a while. Have something normal. Just for a little while."
Scott got up and came over to her, laying his hands on her shoulders. "I said we should postpone the wedding," he said quietly, waiting until she met his eyes. "I didn't mean we had to stay here, in the middle of all of this. As Charles is so fond of reminding me, I have two people who are every bit as able as I am, capable of managing the same responsibilities if I'm unable. Or not here."
A single tear slipped out of the corner of Jean's eye. "Can we... can we not be here, then?" She might not be as physically tired now as she had been in September, but there hadn't been a chance to get past the emotional exhaustion and the day in Lorna's mind, fighting to get her back, really hadn't helped.
He wrapped her arms around her. "Soon as we're sure there's nothing in the way of immediate consequences about to drop on our heads," he said, his throat feeling oddly thick. "A day. Two at the most." Part of him felt selfish, utterly irresponsible, but he wanted away, too. He saw the weariness in her eyes and hated it, and although he wasn't about to admit it, he was tired too. Too much had happened. He needed to catch his breath.
Burying her head in his shoulder, Jean nodded, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from really starting to cry. A chance to get away, to just be with him, and to not have to care. It sounded like heaven just now.
"I love you," Scott murmured. "And in the not-too-distant future, I am going to marry you. I just... don't want us doing it under a cloud like this."
Jean wasn't entirely certain she could speak, but she didn't have to. #I love you, too, so much,# she sent, the thought colored with just how much she wanted and needed him in her life.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked, after a long moment in which they just stood there, holding each other. "Or should we just get in the car and drive, when we do?"
"Let's just... let's just go. Right now, I don't think I care where." And he would probably have to be the one who would turn the car around, in the end, to come back.
"All right." He drew back a little, just enough to kiss her. "You need to sleep," Scott said quietly, his hands framing her face for a moment. "I'd suggest you just shut yourself in the suite until I come and get you and the suitcases, but that's up to you."
"So do you," she said, knowing full well he probably wouldn't, at least not for a long time. And she had things she had to do before she could just run off. For one thing, she'd have to tell Hank and Moira and Maddie, and remind them that Scott was responsible enough he wouldn't let her just drive until they ran out of road. And then keep going.
"I think there's one direction we'd better not go, though."
"Oh?"
"Northwest. If we ever made it all the way to Phillip and Deborah's, I don't think I'd have the willpower just now to turn around and come back."
The laugh was half a laugh and half a sob. "That sounds really tempting," she said. "You're probably right, we should avoid that."
"Later," he said softly, stroking her hair. "We'll get away... somewhere, now, and when there's more time, maybe at Christmas, we'll go up there for a couple of weeks. Deborah's quilts are something else, too."
Jean nodded, reaching up to catch his hand in hers. She breathed in, trying to calm down, and succeeding to some extent. "That sounds... that sounds good. I'll be ok," she told him, not having meant to give him something else to worry about. "We'll be ok."
Scott gazed at her for a moment, and then quite deliberately reached out on the link, with all the solid, unwavering support he could muster. Even today, it was not an inconsiderable display. He imagined his presence wrapping around hers like a wall of warm sunlight.
"I love you," he repeated, almost inaudibly. "And you're not going to be okay, you are okay. You just need room to breathe."
Collapsing into his arms and never letting him go was not really the best way to prove that she was ok, but it was awfully tempting. "With you I am," she whispered.
Scott sighed, resting his head in his hands for a moment as he gathered his composure. The Situation Room was quiet around him, the only noise the slight hum of the computer. He'd just saved his report, such as it was. If only that qualified as closing the book on what had happened.
Jean watched him from the doorway - he'd been so caught up in everything that she didn't think he knew she was there and she didn't have the energy to disturb him. The door jam was doing a very good job of keeping her on her feet.
There was a flicker on the link and he looked up. "Hey," he said quietly. "I was just doing the necessary paperwork. About all I can do, just now..."
"Hey. When all else fails, paperwork?" Actually, paperwork was starting to sound good. Simple. Straightforward. And completely lacking in any requirement to talk someone into dying.
"Mmm." Scott stared a bit blankly at the screen of the computer. "Have you ever wondered how much simpler our lives would be if I'd aimed at Erik's head on Liberty Island?" It struck him that it was the first time he'd used the man's name in... well, years.
Jean didn't answer for a few moments. Finally she said, "Stryker would have won. We'd all have been dead." The shock at seeing Erik below them, holding the jet as though it was nothing and smirking up at her echoed in Jean's mind. There would not have been any coming back from that death.
"Ah, but would he have ever gotten access to the mansion, without having had access to Erik in prison," Scott said softly, still staring at the computer screen. "I suppose it's pointless to play what-ifs. It's just that there's part of me that wishes... a bad part, mind you, and it will scuttle back off into the shadows promptly, I'm sure..." He trailed off, shaking his head a little.
"He had Jason, though," Jean said, remembering the unfortunate young man who'd only been a student for a few months before his father had yanked him out of the school again. "Who knows what other plan he'd have come up with. The what-if game is so hard to play..."
"I don't know what to think, security-wise," he said softly. "I feel like shit, focusing on that instead of Lorna, but what she could have told Magneto..." Magneto. Not Erik. "Physical security can be adapted, heightened if it has to be... and really, I'm not sure how good it would be against him if he ever came knocking anyway. But it's what she could have told him about the team. The new team members, the ones the son of a bitch doesn't know like the back of his hand..." It had been a potential strategic advantage, and it was gone now. Totally.
"Well, to some extent, worrying about that is your job, Scott. Don't blame yourself for doing your job." Turning to the work was easier than thinking about the past... "And, when she can talk about it, Lorna ought to be able to tell us what she told him. She does remember... everything." And blamed herself for it.
"Charles will do what he can to help Lorna," Scott murmured. "Moira, too, I'd imagine, and Leonard... I'm concerned about how Alex will take it."
Jean sighed. It really was just the left over stress and frustration that was offering up the response 'Like a wet noodle, what else?' and she did her best to keep the thought away from the link.
Scott tried not to choke. "I just wish I could disagree," he said with a sigh. "I don't..." He shifted a little in his seat, feeling vaguely disloyal. "He's not... very resilient, at the best of times."
#Ah... ooops?# "It's not fair for me to compare him with you, you're different people and you had such different lives." But she still couldn't escape the thought that Scott could never have been so... passive.
"He's got to get over that, now," Scott said quietly. "For her. I hope he can. She's going to need him."
"Yes, she is." Sighing, Jean stood up, pushing away from the door. "Are you done down here, or is there still work, or the desire to work? Cause I need to go sleep..."
Scott raised his hands in a helpless gesture, but then looked increasingly unhappy as he met her eyes. "Jean... we need to talk. About the wedding."
Jean's eyebrows raised in surprise and confusion. "We do...?" she asked, sounding hesitant. Well, that was a hell of a subject change, she devoutly hoped.
Scott swallowed. "I think we've got to postpone it," he said quietly. "I hate to say it."
She pursed her lips, not quite scowling, but really not sure how he'd come to that decision. "Why?" she asked.
"After this?" he said with a sigh. "Does it feel like the right time to you anymore, Jean? Because it doesn't to me, and maybe that's unreasonable, I don't know... I want this more than I can say. You know that. It's just..." He trailed off, troubled.
Oh, and now she was scowling. "Scott, I understand but... This month it's Lorna, and last month it was Haroun, and in August Nate took a coatrack to the head and you were pulled through a wall. Are we expecting things to calm down? Are you thinking, oh, October was a bust, well, maybe November will be better?"
Scott sighed again. He slid off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes, then put them back on. "Alex won't come," he said quietly. "At least one of the command teams, and a good portion of our teammates, won't be able to come, because we can't strip the mansion."
"I'm not... I'm not arguing. You're right, and I know it. I just..." Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned away. "I just really need the crazy to stop for a while. Have something normal. Just for a little while."
Scott got up and came over to her, laying his hands on her shoulders. "I said we should postpone the wedding," he said quietly, waiting until she met his eyes. "I didn't mean we had to stay here, in the middle of all of this. As Charles is so fond of reminding me, I have two people who are every bit as able as I am, capable of managing the same responsibilities if I'm unable. Or not here."
A single tear slipped out of the corner of Jean's eye. "Can we... can we not be here, then?" She might not be as physically tired now as she had been in September, but there hadn't been a chance to get past the emotional exhaustion and the day in Lorna's mind, fighting to get her back, really hadn't helped.
He wrapped her arms around her. "Soon as we're sure there's nothing in the way of immediate consequences about to drop on our heads," he said, his throat feeling oddly thick. "A day. Two at the most." Part of him felt selfish, utterly irresponsible, but he wanted away, too. He saw the weariness in her eyes and hated it, and although he wasn't about to admit it, he was tired too. Too much had happened. He needed to catch his breath.
Burying her head in his shoulder, Jean nodded, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from really starting to cry. A chance to get away, to just be with him, and to not have to care. It sounded like heaven just now.
"I love you," Scott murmured. "And in the not-too-distant future, I am going to marry you. I just... don't want us doing it under a cloud like this."
Jean wasn't entirely certain she could speak, but she didn't have to. #I love you, too, so much,# she sent, the thought colored with just how much she wanted and needed him in her life.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked, after a long moment in which they just stood there, holding each other. "Or should we just get in the car and drive, when we do?"
"Let's just... let's just go. Right now, I don't think I care where." And he would probably have to be the one who would turn the car around, in the end, to come back.
"All right." He drew back a little, just enough to kiss her. "You need to sleep," Scott said quietly, his hands framing her face for a moment. "I'd suggest you just shut yourself in the suite until I come and get you and the suitcases, but that's up to you."
"So do you," she said, knowing full well he probably wouldn't, at least not for a long time. And she had things she had to do before she could just run off. For one thing, she'd have to tell Hank and Moira and Maddie, and remind them that Scott was responsible enough he wouldn't let her just drive until they ran out of road. And then keep going.
"I think there's one direction we'd better not go, though."
"Oh?"
"Northwest. If we ever made it all the way to Phillip and Deborah's, I don't think I'd have the willpower just now to turn around and come back."
The laugh was half a laugh and half a sob. "That sounds really tempting," she said. "You're probably right, we should avoid that."
"Later," he said softly, stroking her hair. "We'll get away... somewhere, now, and when there's more time, maybe at Christmas, we'll go up there for a couple of weeks. Deborah's quilts are something else, too."
Jean nodded, reaching up to catch his hand in hers. She breathed in, trying to calm down, and succeeding to some extent. "That sounds... that sounds good. I'll be ok," she told him, not having meant to give him something else to worry about. "We'll be ok."
Scott gazed at her for a moment, and then quite deliberately reached out on the link, with all the solid, unwavering support he could muster. Even today, it was not an inconsiderable display. He imagined his presence wrapping around hers like a wall of warm sunlight.
"I love you," he repeated, almost inaudibly. "And you're not going to be okay, you are okay. You just need room to breathe."
Collapsing into his arms and never letting him go was not really the best way to prove that she was ok, but it was awfully tempting. "With you I am," she whispered.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-18 12:46 am (UTC)Alex would like to state for the record that he never said that. He's gonna come and be polite and be happy for Scott. He's not going to ruin his bgi brother's day *nods*
Ad for me, so very very cute and cuddly.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-18 04:30 am (UTC)