Jean and Scott, Wednesday afternoon

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

They go on the hiking trek they were talking about. It's cute. Surprise, surprise.



Hiking was simple. It was quiet, and it was normal, and it was perfect. The gorgeous scenery didn't hurt, either. Up ahead, Jean could hear the soft sound of a creek and there might be a clearing nearby. That could work for lunch. #You want to stop and eat?# she sent, unwilling to speak and break the quiet.

#Sounds like a plan,# Scott said, a step or two behind her. There were times when he most definitely realized that she had longer legs than he did. The thought made him smile. #I'm not absolutely sure what's in the picnic basket they packed us, but judging by room service yesterday, I figure it's got to be pretty good.#

The fact that the trail turned towards the sound of the creek was a good sign that there was a clearing. There was something comforting about, well, about being on a trail that probably hundreds of other couples had hiked up, doing exactly what they'd done over the years. Normal. They could have normal, sometimes. #I'm still amused by the look they gave you when I took the basket. You'd think they thought chivalry was dead or something.#

#I'm wondering how they coped with Moira, when she and Nathan were here,# Scott sent back irrepressibly, grinning at the look she gave him over her shoulder. And there was indeed a clearing, a lovely little clearing right there at the end of the trail. "Hah!" Scott said aloud, but softly. "Look," he said, pointing to the two large, flat-topped rocks. "Natural seats."

#I'm sure they were suitably cowed by her, yes. Maybe I should work on being more intimidating... Opinions?# Moving to set the basket down on one of the rocks, she went and knelt at the edge of the creek, letting the cold water run over her hands.

"I think that would be impossibly sexy and I'd be making a spectacle of myself on a regular basis if you did that," Scott said with a perfectly straight face, sitting down beside the basket and opening it. The contents made his eyebrows head for his hairline. "Good God in heaven. They weren't kidding when they said it was a gourmet picnic..."

"Well, that makes it awfully tempting, yes. Making you make a spectacle of yourself is something of a hobby, you may have noticed." Jean grinned, coming back to peer over his shoulder with a low whistle. "No, they really weren't. I approve of this place more and more."

"Tarts," Scott said, mystified, picking up out of the tiny pastries out of its little box and sampling it. "Hmmm. Tastes like olives... spicy, too." Intrigued, he dug further into the picnic box. "Salads, more little tarts... looks like a couple of different types of spreads, with crackers... cheese, bread..."

Catching sight of flash of rich brown and bright red, Jean carefully levitated the small wrapped package out and her eyes lit up as her guess was confirmed. "If you are very good," she told Scott, "I will share these chocolate covered strawberries. Maybe."

Scott eyed them, then her, a little smile playing on his lips. "I'd say that sounded like a challenge, but the wrestling match would threaten the picnic basket and that hike gave me a bit of an appetite." He pulled out a pair of bottled drinks - sparkling fruit juice, the label said - and offered Jean one. They were still chilled, amazingly. "I don't know about you," he said, taking another of the little tarts, "but all this fresh air is doing me several dozen different kinds of good. My head actually feels clear."

The strawberries were released off to settle on the other rock, a tk shield around them to protect them from any thieves, and Jean carefully perched on Scott's rock, there being just barely enough space. "Fresh air and sunlight," she said, tilting her head up to smile at the sky, that lovely deep fall blue that you only ever saw in New England in October. Cracking the bottle open, she took a sip.

"Oh, right. The big yellow ball is my version of crack... I forgot that, with all the time I've been spending living in my office or the Situation Room lately." He reached up and tucked a stray lock of red hair behind her ear, then pressed his lips to her temple for a moment. "Damn, we should do outdoors-type stuff the rest of the time we're here. You could bring me home all giddy."

"Giddy is good. I like giddy." Jean leaned into his touch, eyes falling closed for a second. "And, you know, we do have our own sprawling grounds to go enjoy the outdoors in, occasionally, whenever I can pry you out of the office." She must be doing better, Jean reflected, since that was the first time she'd been willing to admit out loud that they'd be going back.

Scott's expression was very slightly wistful for a moment, but it went calm again as Jean opened her eyes. "Apparently we've got a lovely little town right nearby - I was talking to the concierge this morning while you were lingering over the breakfast table. If we're feeling up to people tomorrow, we might consider heading in for a few hours."

"I... Yes, that sounds nice," she said slowly. "People... I can handle people, I think. Plus, there will be shops." Her smile might not be up to the usual 'oooh, shopping!' grin, but it was there.

"I have a brochure," Scott said meekly. "About the shops. And a map." At the slight widening of her eyes, he grinned. "Yes, I planned. We can get a bottle of wine when we go back tonight, and drink it as we review the intel and produce a plan of attack. Sound like a plan?"

Jean snickered. "You have just used the word 'plan' three times in as many seconds. And 'intel' once. On vacation. I think we should go back, get the wine, make the plan, and then, in revenge, I will distract you and make you forget the plan. If the plan starts too early, I will also make you late for it."

Her eyes were sparkling mischievously, and Scott paused for a moment, just to admire her. "I think that would be very evil of you, but that the distraction would be a great deal of fun. I approve of this not-plan."

"Glad to hear you approve." Jean pulled one of the salads out of the basket, collecting a fork as well. "So we have both a plan and a not-plan for the evening. But in the meantime, we have lunch."

Scott opened his drink, sighing quietly after he took a sip. "I feel a little disjointed," he said, after a few peaceful moments of silence. "Like there's something else I should be doing, somewhere else I should be. I suppose that's natural."

"After the fall we've had? I would say pefectly natural. Almost expected. Personally, I'm pretending I don't feel exactly the same, because I'm tired of having things I'm supposed to do. Which is childish of me, I know."

Scott stared down at the bottle of juice for a moment. "I held it together," he said softly. "Occasional growling aside... nothing at all like last fall." He took a deep breath, then let it out, looking up at Jean with a faint smile. "I know why, too," he said, almost tenderly. "You're an awfully talented woman, Doctor Grey. You run yourself off your feet and somehow still manage to keep me away from the drugged coffee and the medlab bed."

"Purely self interest. The bed'd be too cold if you were sleeping in the medlab." But her flippant tone was belied by the look in her eyes. "We go well together," she said, sounding serious. "Balance each other's tendancy towards crazy and over work."

"Coming back to the suite... home to you, has made every bit of stress this year worth it," Scott said quietly. "Every bit."

Leaning forward to kiss him, Jean said, "That's good. Particularly reassuring since I was one of the stresses myself..."

He smiled, almost mischievously, before she kissed him. #Well, redheads are always a lot of trouble...#

Jean chuckled into the kiss. #You'd better believe it, buster. And worth every bit of it.#