Jean and Scott, Friday night

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Finally home and settled, Jean and Scott relax and enjoy having done a good day's work.



After a second shower, Jean finally felt like all the sand was off. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten sand between her toes, given the boots and all, but now it was gone. Not feeling like getting dressed again, she just pulled on one of Scott's shirts and wandered out into the living room. "For future reference? Leather body suits in the desert really aren't that comfortable. You know, in case you hadn't noticed."

Scott was sprawled on the couch and had been dozing until the sound of the shower had stopped. "Lots of places the leather body suits aren't comfortable," he said with a wide yawn, sitting up. "Doesn't make them any less efficient. By the way, are you going to redesign yours? It's the latest fad." He had changed his a few weeks ago, deviating from the standard bodysuit to something more discreet looking - and offering a little more protection.

Jean sat down next to him, stretching her legs out and propping them on the coffee table. "Not sure yet," she said. "Well, I mean, probably, but I don't know how yet. I'm still thinking about it."

"I have to say," Scott said with a wry smile, "not minding dumping the original designs. Not given where they came from."

"Mmm, yes, there is that, too," Jean agreed. "And a lot of the changes are practical. Al's fingerless gloves for example. We've got different powers, and while the uniform look is a good one, it makes sense to take that into account. Besides," she glanced at Scott out of the corner of her eye and grinned slightly, "it's not as though he ever really had a grasp of high fashion..."

"Abysmal fashion sense. Look at that damned helmet." Scott slouched, propping his legs beside hers on the coffee table. "But enough about him. I burned a scary amount of jet fuel today."

Jean considered his stretched out legs, then grinned and gave into the temptation, twisting around on the couch to use his lap as her new leg rest. "Surely no one is objecting to the need for said fuel burn?"

"Oh, no. But even by the standards of the last few months, that was quite the flight." Scott couldn't keep the grin off his face. Oh, yes, it was a hard life, being used as a leg rest by those legs. Very hard. "And perverse as this may sound... damn, it was fun."

"Heh. Well, as much as I could have done without the being shot at, again, I will admit that there's something very... um, entertaining about making things blow up." And the fact that what headache she'd had had been watered, medicated and showered into submission didn't hurt either.

"So many of our missions seem to involve kids these days," Scott said thoughtfully, letting his head rest back against the edge of the couch. "Have you noticed that?"

"Children are vulnerable," Jean said. "They're easy targets and they can't, for the most part, really protect themselves. Which is where we come in. And our lives do sort of revolve around children. You may have noticed this, what with being the headmaster of a school and all."

"True enough." He gave her another grin. "You know, given all the flight time, I'm not as exhausted as I expected to be. Just pleasantly drowsy."

"Pleasant is good. Drowsy's pretty good too, actually. I'm definitely not feeling particularly ambitious this evening." She wrinkled her nose. "There's probably stuff I should be doing for class tomorrow, but I don't feel like it."

"We need to have Charles write it into our contracts that we get a day off after we engage in world-saving activity," Scott said, then started to amend that. They hadn't been saving the world, after all... but then again... "What would you do with the day off tomorrow?" he asked playfully.

Jean grinned. "Yes, we should get our union to start negotiations on that one straight off. And I think that would depend... It's a little late in the season for leaf viewing, but I think getting out for a bit would be nice."

"Dinner out?" Scott suggested whimsically. "Someplace nice. We could compromise, since we're both workaholics, and just take a few hours off..." He smiled. "I think today was worth a little celebration. You could cash in your invisible birthday present?"

"Oooh, sure. We could even catch a show. Use the Broadway tickets from Moira, maybe? Yet more chances to show off the pretty, although I haven't had a chance to find a new dress."

"The Zorro sequel's out this weekend," Scott pointed out after a moment's thought, his smile lingering. "Do you remember seeing the first? And hell, a movie instead of a play would mean we could enjoy dinner without worrying about when the show starts."

"Yes, that's a point. Mask of Zorro? Yes, vaguely. It was a remarkably innocuous movie. Although Hopkins did pretty well. And, of course, Antonio Banderas without a shirt..." Jean grinned cheekily at Scott.

"I remember you demanded I leave my shirt off that night once we got back, so that you could conduct an extended comparison," Scott said with a perfectly straight face. "I don't believe I ever got a straight answer as to your conclusions."

"I got distracted," Jean said primly. "I don't think I ever got around to making any conclusions. No, wait. I may have concluded that you without a shirt is a good thing, but it wasn't a particularly novel thought."

"You'd look very good in one of Zeta-Jones's dresses from that movie," Scott pointed out impishly. "I always thought so. Oh!" He straightened, grinning. "I know what we can do when we're out. We forgot. Tango lessons."

"So I should be looking into aquireing a just-this-side-of-sheer white night dress? And here I thought you approved of my shirt stealing ways." Jean blinked. "We did, didn't we. You said the community center has drop in ones? Every night or...?"

"Well, tomorrow night," Scott said disingenuously. "Funny coincidence, no? On the very night that we're talking about getting away for a few hours... you'd almost think I'd planned that. And then we would still have an excuse to get away again later. After you have a dress."

"You? Plan something? Never..." Jean twisted slightly to steal a kiss. "It would be so uncharacteristic of you."

"Karma. I think we're meant to go dancing." Dancing and dinner. That would be a decent celebration. And there was quite a bit to celebrate. It had been a while since he'd been able to walk away from a mission with a clear conscience and a happy heart.

"Ah, well, if it's meant to be, then it's meant to be." Jean smiled. "We did good today. And it went well. I don't think we can ask for more."

"I think possibly we're persona non grata in Libya now," Scott said, the mischievous look back. "Or at least, 'that big black plane flown by devils' is persona non grata." He kissed her, still grinning. "I am very, very good, you know. Tom Cruise's character in Top Gun had nothing on me."

Jean laughed brightly. "Tom Cruise has never had anything on you, as a character or no. He refused to let Nicole wear heels for years, and that's a travesty."

"You see," Scott bantered, "I like having you in heels beside me, even if you're taller than I am. Because then every man in whatever room we're in looks at me and thinks 'Who's that scrawny guy with the goddess'? It appeals to my ego."

"So it works on all counts," Jean said. "A good thing."

He really couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "Have I mentioned that I love you today? Or were we too busy with the Libyan air force?"

That smile was a wonderful thing, Jean thought. Relaxed and proud and happy. "You know, I think you've been too busy... Tsk, for shame. You're going to have to make it up to me."

"'How do I love you, let me count the ways'?" Scott suggested. "What did we get up to the last time? I forget."

Jean laughed. "Last time you'd had a bad DR session and it rather revolved around bandaging your wounds and soothing your aches before it... mmm, focused on a rather specific ache and we got distracted."

"Oh, right. Lost count amid all the kissing and making better." It was too much. It really was. Scott couldn't not laugh. "Damn, we're appalling. We really are. If the kids could hear us..."

"Really, I've always thought that that was why Charles instituted the cohabitation policy. So he could get us to stop being so frighteningly cute out in public."

"Maybe he's just looking after our well-being," Scott pointed out. "After all, at some point we start repeating ourselves... and I hate to be tedious."

"A good point," Jean said. "After all, there are only so many ways we can go 'you're wonderful' 'no, you're wonderful' at each other before making somebody crazy."

"I don't care much, most of the time," Scott said softly. "Really, I don't."

"Hey," Jean said, reaching up to cradle his cheek. "I know." She smiled softly before kissing him again.