Scott and Jean, Sunday evening
Oct. 23rd, 2005 06:42 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsJean and Scott do a little celebrating of her newly be-leathered state. And Jean picks a new codename.
Scott was fairly positive that he'd had entirely too much wine this week. Between the inn, and now the little two-person celebratory... thing he'd spontaneously decided to have for Jean, which involved Chinese food and a bottle of wine from the cellar, there had been entirely too much wine. Really. It didn't stop him from topping off his glass, though, as he grinned at Jean.
"So. What are we calling you?"
"No more 'Marvel Girl'," Jean said firmly, cradling her own glass. "At thirty-two there is no excuse for anyone to be calling me any sort of girl. Including myself."
"Marvel Woman?" Scott suggested whimsically, then ducked, as the little carton of wontons was right there, and from past experience he knew that telekinesis could make wontons go very fast.
The wonton was already half way there, but as he'd already ducked she stopped it, not really feeling like cleaning it up afterwards. Plucking it out of the air she set it back in the carton. "That would be a rather emphatic 'no'. Really, I think it's just time to retire the whole marvel idea..."
Scott gave her an innocent look, sipping at his wine. "So, any other ideas? Since the retro-nostalgia name is out..."
"I do have some ideas," she said slowly. "I even have a favorite." Jean paused, thinking. Finally she said, "What do you think of 'Phoenix'?"
Scott hesitated, gazing at her for a long moment, silent. "I think... that fits surprisingly well, actually," he said slowly. Remembering the sight of her out the canopy of the Blackbird at Alkali Lake, surrounded by a nimbus of fire.
Jean smiled, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear a little self consciously. "It was actually Askani who gave me the idea..." She trailed off, reminded once more of her worry for her teacher. And for Nate.
Scott opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Of course," he said quietly. "She's really helped you, I know. I know she's helped Nathan, too."
"She has," Jean agreed, quietly. Then smiled. "And it does seem remarkably apropos."
"Phoenix," Scott said, mulling it over. "Two syllables. Easy enough to use in the heat of... well, whatever heat we're in."
Jean blinked, then blinked again. She started to say something, then shook her head. "One of us has had too much wine... And I'm really not sure which of us it is."
"Why does it have to be only one of us?" Scott asked with perfect logic.
"Ah, clearly it's you, then." Jean grinned at him. "You are not allowed to call me 'Phoenix' in bed."
"I can still call you lots of other things in bed, though?" Scott asked brightly.
She snickered. "Yep, definitely you. Well, at least no one can complain I'm liquoring you up to take advantage of you and your youth anymore."
"No, since we're both old--er, now," Scott said, and took a wonton. "You know, now that you're a full team member again you can probably get out of some of the comms shifts." He gave her a well-practiced innocent look. "Since you have undue influence with one of your COs and all..."
"Oh ho?" Jean arched an eyebrow at him. "Well, you know, it does give me something to do when you're working late... There'd be no point in getting out of them if you're not going to be home for the undue influencing."
Scott raised his glass, contemplating that. "There's a flaw in that logic. I'm just not sure where. I think I've had too much wine."
"You think that, and I think that, clearly I should cut you off."
"Months of near-abstinence," Scott said helpfully. "No alcohol tolerance any more."
"Yes, that would do it." Standing up, Jean moved to take his glass away from him, then settled into his lap, brushing his hair back before kissing him. "I remember the first time Hank ever got you drunk..."
"I don't," Scott said with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her. "I think I blocked it out. Although I do remember how I felt the morning after..."
"You were far less... controlled." Her eyes sparkled. "It was definitely the first time I really understood you weren't necessarily as innocent as you were young. You certainly thought the most shocking things."
"I was exposed to unfortunate influences during my impressionable years?" Scott suggested, reaching up to move her hair aside to allow for better access to her neck.
"Clearly," Jean agreed, turning into his touch, her own hands moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. "And the fact that you were more creative than my boyfriend of the time was... um..." She lost her train of thought for a second. "Was impressive."
"Oh good. Because I was aiming to impress. I'd only been trying to very quietly imagine what I'd do in that situation for... well, years."
"Well, you weren't being quiet about it that night. At all. Luckily, Hank assumed the flush was because I'd just had too much to drink myself." Less luckily, she had managed to convince herself, again, that he didn't really want her, that it was only the alcohol.
"I would have had to have been in my grave three days and missing key pieces not to have wanted you." It was said almost casually, but with an edge of wonderment, even after all these years, that she could ever have thought otherwise.
"Yes, well, I was an idiot, I admit this." She kissed him, then leaned her forehead against his, smiling at him. "I got over it, though."
"In spectacular fashion. I'm a lucky, lucky man."
Scott was fairly positive that he'd had entirely too much wine this week. Between the inn, and now the little two-person celebratory... thing he'd spontaneously decided to have for Jean, which involved Chinese food and a bottle of wine from the cellar, there had been entirely too much wine. Really. It didn't stop him from topping off his glass, though, as he grinned at Jean.
"So. What are we calling you?"
"No more 'Marvel Girl'," Jean said firmly, cradling her own glass. "At thirty-two there is no excuse for anyone to be calling me any sort of girl. Including myself."
"Marvel Woman?" Scott suggested whimsically, then ducked, as the little carton of wontons was right there, and from past experience he knew that telekinesis could make wontons go very fast.
The wonton was already half way there, but as he'd already ducked she stopped it, not really feeling like cleaning it up afterwards. Plucking it out of the air she set it back in the carton. "That would be a rather emphatic 'no'. Really, I think it's just time to retire the whole marvel idea..."
Scott gave her an innocent look, sipping at his wine. "So, any other ideas? Since the retro-nostalgia name is out..."
"I do have some ideas," she said slowly. "I even have a favorite." Jean paused, thinking. Finally she said, "What do you think of 'Phoenix'?"
Scott hesitated, gazing at her for a long moment, silent. "I think... that fits surprisingly well, actually," he said slowly. Remembering the sight of her out the canopy of the Blackbird at Alkali Lake, surrounded by a nimbus of fire.
Jean smiled, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear a little self consciously. "It was actually Askani who gave me the idea..." She trailed off, reminded once more of her worry for her teacher. And for Nate.
Scott opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Of course," he said quietly. "She's really helped you, I know. I know she's helped Nathan, too."
"She has," Jean agreed, quietly. Then smiled. "And it does seem remarkably apropos."
"Phoenix," Scott said, mulling it over. "Two syllables. Easy enough to use in the heat of... well, whatever heat we're in."
Jean blinked, then blinked again. She started to say something, then shook her head. "One of us has had too much wine... And I'm really not sure which of us it is."
"Why does it have to be only one of us?" Scott asked with perfect logic.
"Ah, clearly it's you, then." Jean grinned at him. "You are not allowed to call me 'Phoenix' in bed."
"I can still call you lots of other things in bed, though?" Scott asked brightly.
She snickered. "Yep, definitely you. Well, at least no one can complain I'm liquoring you up to take advantage of you and your youth anymore."
"No, since we're both old--er, now," Scott said, and took a wonton. "You know, now that you're a full team member again you can probably get out of some of the comms shifts." He gave her a well-practiced innocent look. "Since you have undue influence with one of your COs and all..."
"Oh ho?" Jean arched an eyebrow at him. "Well, you know, it does give me something to do when you're working late... There'd be no point in getting out of them if you're not going to be home for the undue influencing."
Scott raised his glass, contemplating that. "There's a flaw in that logic. I'm just not sure where. I think I've had too much wine."
"You think that, and I think that, clearly I should cut you off."
"Months of near-abstinence," Scott said helpfully. "No alcohol tolerance any more."
"Yes, that would do it." Standing up, Jean moved to take his glass away from him, then settled into his lap, brushing his hair back before kissing him. "I remember the first time Hank ever got you drunk..."
"I don't," Scott said with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her. "I think I blocked it out. Although I do remember how I felt the morning after..."
"You were far less... controlled." Her eyes sparkled. "It was definitely the first time I really understood you weren't necessarily as innocent as you were young. You certainly thought the most shocking things."
"I was exposed to unfortunate influences during my impressionable years?" Scott suggested, reaching up to move her hair aside to allow for better access to her neck.
"Clearly," Jean agreed, turning into his touch, her own hands moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. "And the fact that you were more creative than my boyfriend of the time was... um..." She lost her train of thought for a second. "Was impressive."
"Oh good. Because I was aiming to impress. I'd only been trying to very quietly imagine what I'd do in that situation for... well, years."
"Well, you weren't being quiet about it that night. At all. Luckily, Hank assumed the flush was because I'd just had too much to drink myself." Less luckily, she had managed to convince herself, again, that he didn't really want her, that it was only the alcohol.
"I would have had to have been in my grave three days and missing key pieces not to have wanted you." It was said almost casually, but with an edge of wonderment, even after all these years, that she could ever have thought otherwise.
"Yes, well, I was an idiot, I admit this." She kissed him, then leaned her forehead against his, smiling at him. "I got over it, though."
"In spectacular fashion. I'm a lucky, lucky man."
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no subject
Date: 2005-10-23 10:52 pm (UTC)Okay, so, does the fact that this ground rule needed establishing mean . . . wait, no, hang on, there's no way for that train of thought to end in a non-disturbing way. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-23 11:11 pm (UTC)Probably.
Date: 2005-10-23 11:49 pm (UTC)Re: Probably.
Date: 2005-10-24 12:40 am (UTC)Re: Probably.
Date: 2005-10-24 01:23 am (UTC)Re: Probably.
Date: 2005-10-24 01:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-24 03:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-24 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-24 07:52 pm (UTC)At least it isn't Moira's horrendous yellow-green-beige... thing. That was one pyulky color.