Jean and Scot, backdated to the 9th

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

-facepalm- I only just found this today... The evening of the day Tommy wakes up, Scott and Jean talk.



The daily sessions on the heavy bag were doing wonders, Scott thought with a tight smile. Much better way to vent frustration than at anyone - why hadn't he thought of this last fall? Silly of him. Rubbing a little at the hand that had been injured in Budapest - it wasn't appreciating the new hobby quite as much - he headed in the direction of the medlab with the vague idea of looking in on Jean.

Jean was doing little more than staring at the open file before her, mind elsewhere. While the boy had been unconscious there hadn't been room or time for questions, but now... Now she had to face up to it, face the boy and what he was and not let it affect his treatment. Lost and hurt and scared, but also angry and ignorant. And above all, a person in need of care.

"Hey." Scott leaned against the doorframe, watching her. "You look preoccupied." He'd read the post, of course. Nothing he could do just now, and it wasn't really his decision in the end in any case.

"Hum?" Jean asked, looking up. "Oh, hi, Scott." She offered him a small smile. "A little, maybe. Possibly a lot," she admitted. "But..." She shrugged. "Not really something there's an answer to, just now. Kind of going over familiar territory. What's up?"

"What, I can't poke my head in on you while you're working?" Scott teased lightly. "Was it the lack of a shower? You used to like me all hot and sweaty, straight from the gym..."

Jean grinned. "And I'm still a fan, don't get me wrong," she said, more than willing to let the banter wash away the worry. "But there's only so scandalous we can be in the medlab, and tempting me is mean."

"Pity." #I seem to remember this incident with your desk in the middle of the night a few years back...# He grinned, letting it drop at the look she gave him, and came forward to sit down in the chair opposite hers. "You have worry lines," he pointed out.

#Middle of the night, no patients in residence, and a much smaller school population. Also, what did I say about being mean?# She wrinkled her nose at him. "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to point that sort of thing out to a prospective bride. I refuse to be bride-zilla. It's not happening."

"Of course you're not going to be bride-zilla. You have far too much innate taste and good sense to get carried away," Scott said cheerfully.

"Nice save. Plus, of course, I've never been the sort of ravage Tokyo. Would far rather ravage you."

Scott coughed, grinning. "If I'm not allowed to tempt you, I think you need to not provoke mental images like that. Seriously, woman."

It was definitely Jean's turn to be cheerful. "Come now, fair is fair and I was just taking my turn. Besides, it's not as though your mental images don't also count as temptation for me... They do tend to be very... vivid."

"I learned from the best. And I'm not just talking about how to make my mental images vivid," Scott teased.

"Well, you certainly know how to inflate my ego. Which is definitely not an objection." Jean closed the file and stretched her arms over her head before leaning back in her chair. "So, what have you been up to all day? Besides the daily beat down on the heavy bag?"

"Trying to get in contact with someone," Scott said, and offered an apology for the vagueness down the link. Maybe at some point he could fill Jean in, but right now, with everything that was going on, an excess of caution wasn't such a bad thing. "Spent some time with Lee talking about security, taught my engineering class, had a rather hairy class with the energy-projectors... you?"

Jean nodded, accepting the need for caution and letting him know how completely she trusted him. "Debate actually went very well - some of the younger kids were talking about setting up a Model UN team and going to meets next year. That or an LD team, but I think they'd like Model UN better. And the political science and Shakespeare classes both had tests today, so now I've grading to do... And, of course, Tommy."

"Yeah." Scott slouched a little in the chair, rubbing at his hand. "I'm glad he's awake. I know it's going to mean more stress all around, but at least it'll be there, and not just this possibility to be dreaded."

"I can't say I'm really looking forward to seeing how many of my bad dreams and predictions are going to come true, and how many won't, but at least I can stop making them and start dealing with whatever happens." Jean sighed. "And it does mean he's getting better. Possibly one of these days we'll get back to the point where we don't need a night shift. Maybe."

"Let's be optimistic and say that we will," Scott said firmly. "As for Tommy... I'm going to defer to Charles for now, I think. We can trust his objectivity and his fairness - as well as his judgement as to when it's a good time to assess the situation."

"I'm not... Well, let's say I'm not overly worried. With the return of restful sleep and you-time, I've got at least some of my optimism back. It will be ok, eventually." Although she wasn't at all sure when that eventually would be...

Scott tilted his head, looking at her steadily. Oh, he so needed to get her a break. Somehow. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

It took Jean a few seconds to remember, actually. "Um, only by your standards," she said, smiling faintly. "Which is to say, I definitely had lunch between classes, and there was something in the baked line a couple hours ago..."

"Well, that's reasonable, at least," Scott said with a cheerful sort of hypocrisy. "So I don't have to haul you off to the kitchen..."

"Perfectly reasonable," Jean said, "especially since we did breakfast. Two whole meals in one day, tops your daily one and a half average." She smirked at him.

"Well, some of us fuel up on sunlight, remember, so we have an excuse," Scott said, then grinned. "I know, I'm shameless."

Jean laughed at him. "Shame is overrated," she said. "Highly overrated. Shame means I don't get inapprorpiate snuggles by the pool, or in the library, or the dining room..."

"... and that would be a shame, no pun intended." Scott paused, then donned a suitably chastened look. "Oh, and I might have forgotten to mention that we have an appointment with the minister of a certain church near a certain someone's hometown... not next weekend, but the weekend after. I guess he likes to do the pre-wedding chat with all the couples he marries... or maybe your mother just sicced him on us, I don't know."

Jean's eyes lit up. "Yes? The weekend after is fully doable." Hell, if he'd forgotten to mention it until five minutes before the meeting itself it would still have been doable, or she would have made it doable. "There ought to be punishment for forgetting to mention a thing like that, but it's far more likely you'll get a reward. I approve of plans getting made without my having to worry about them."

"Well, then you'll be particularly delighted to hear that your mother has unilaterally decided to take care of the catering. It's a great strategy, you know - every time she calls, I tell her that you're busy in the medlab, and so she decides to take over various tasks simply because she doesn't trust me to do that. Me being male and all..."

Jean's first reaction was that Lorna was going to be upset when she heard that... but no, Lorna was still missing. Shoving the worry back, she said, "It's a doubly good strategy, since it means I don't have to talk to her, either. Staves off the bride-zilla, too. And keeps you from working too hard and worrying about everything..."

Scott caught the thought on the link and winced a little. "Of course," he said, his smile a little wan, "we might wind up with a dinner we don't like. But, I did make her promise to give you veto rights over the menu. More or less."

"How so 'more or less'? And I must admit, I suspect on our wedding day I'm unlikely to even notice what the food is, let alone care." She smiled at him. "I think I'll be caught up in other things..."

"Well... she seems to think that what she comes up with won't be objection-worthy. Menu-wise, I mean." His smile strengthened a little, though. "Kept telling me we could trust her good taste."

"I don't think I can argue with that," Jean said, thinking of the impeccably kept house she'd grown up in. "Taste she certainly has in spades, and as she's not doing the deccorations, we don't have to worry too much about looking like we've stepped out of a magazine..."

"That's the benefit of the little tiny church, I think," Scott pointed out. "Not that much room for decoration." He looked a bit wistfully across the table at her. "Do you feel selfish?" he asked abruptly. "I feel a little selfish, spending time and energy on this... but then, this is a perfect example of what I was saying when we first talked about it. If we ever waited for things to slow down... well, we'd be having another years-long engagement."

"No. I'm devoutly refusing to feel bad about, well, any of it. Spending time with you, be it to discuss the wedding or just to be with you, is one of the few breaks I've gotten in a while. It may be selfish, but I just don't think I care anymore."

Scott tried to wrap his mind around the idea. He could work on doing that? A smile tugged at his lips before he could help it. "Life goes on," he said more quietly. "Important to keep that in mind, I guess."

"Exactly. All of it keeps going forward, and we deal with the bits we can deal with, when we can. Or something." She was possibly not entirely up to being philosophical.

"Have you given any thought to a dress?" Scott asked innocently, after a moment.

"The innocent act is not going to fool anyone," she told him, grinning. "Yes, I have. And you don't get to know anything else."

"I suppose I've got to find a suit. Or a tuxedo. Preferences?"

"I'm highly in favor of tuxedos. Very dashing. Quite possibly the only outfit with which a bow tie is not at all silly looking."

"I can't remember the last time I wore one," Scott said reminiscently. "... wait, I do. The HeliX gala last fall. Dragged it out of the closet."

"HeliX gala? Do tell. And are there pictures?" Whatever the gala had been, there must not have been a medical emergency attached to it. The medlab files were still where she got most of her information about what had happend while she was gone, with the X-Men mission reports coming in a close second.

"Last September. There might have been a few. I was..." Scott closed his mouth, frowning. "I was feeling a little disconnected that night. That wasn't too long before the whole drugging me and sticking me in the medlab thing... that whole couple of months is a little patchy, looking back."

"Hmmm, then we'll just have to insure that the next penguin suit occasion keeps you completely in the here and now and not at all disconnected." Pushing away from the desk, Jean moved closer to him and leaned over to steal a kiss.

"Mmm. Sounds like a plan," Scott said with a smile as she straightened. "So. Ought I to leave you to your work and go have a shower? I could bring down more food, if you wanted..."

"The ongoing questions about me and eating are really just revenge for all the times I harp at you, aren't they?" Jean reached up to push the whisps that had slipped out of her braid behind her ear. "Well, I guess if I can't have you and the shower, I'll take a sandwhich as a pale substitute..."