Jean and Scott, in the airport

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Finally, Scott gets to come home.



He was going to swoon. Seriously. Scott took another long, reverent sip of the Starbucks coffee. It was strong and black and more to the point, real coffee. "I love you," he said to Jean, who was sitting beside him in the departures lounge, repressing a smile. "I love you more than any man ever loved a woman. You know that, right?

Jean laughed. "Are you saying that to me or to the coffee?"

"I'm saying that to the woman who got me the coffee. I mean, hospital coffee, that instant crap that doesn't deserve the name..." Scott tilted his head sideways so that he could look squarely at her. "Although should I be drinking all of this, when you're going to dope me up as soon as I sit down on the plane?"

"We're not doping you up," Jean said, almost offhandedly. "Just dulling the pain wouldn't be enough, you see. The pressure change and all. I'm going to have to, well, put your head in a force bubble."

Scott stared at her. "You're putting my head in a bubble?" he repeated, glad that there was no one seated around them in the lounge. "Now I have disturbing mental images..."

Jean arched an eyebrow. "Interesting... No, really. I have to to keep the pressure equal. Otherwise. Well, it would hurt. A lot. And I say this knowing how much pain you've been in recently."

"That's why we couldn't just have Clarice bring us back when she took Charles and Alex, then?" Scott asked. He'd wondered about that. "Too rapid a pressure change?"

"Yes, exactly. The bone graft isn't secure enough to deal with the severe change. So... bubble. And I'll just dull your pain senses myself, since it will be too hard to judge how you'll take to the bubble."

Scott sipped his coffee, studying her with his one eye curiously. "This is a new trick, no?"

"New application of an old trick, I think. It's not all that different from what we had to do after Haroun... um, the infection." Probably another thing not to be talking about overly much in a public airport lounge.

"Mmm. It's not going to be too much strain on you, is it?" This whole week had been far too draining for her. He was looking forward to getting home and being devious and insisting that he couldn't rest properly unless she was beside him.

"Compared to what it would be like for you if I didn't? Not in the least."

"I did have to get hurt this far from home," Scott murmured a bit wryly. "My own silly fault. At least this isn't Libya."

"Oh yes, clearly you were very silly." Jean's look was wry. "Although I agree, Libya would have been worse."

"At least in Seattle we have good coffee." Scott took another sip of his, more to cover the fact that he was wearing down - already, less than an hour out of the hospital - than anything else. The banter was a bit more of an effort than it should have been. He just had so little energy...

"Yes, the coffee is good. And probably I didn't need to be all sneaky and tell the barista to give you decaf, but you know, seemed like a good step just in case." She smiled innocently at him.

"Oh, so that's why it's not reviving me like the caffeinated beverage of life should..." Sneaky woman. "Would it make the bubble any harder to do if I slept through most of the flight?" he asked with a sigh. "I'm tired, still..."

"Not in the least," Jean said. "I'd rather encourage it. You still need a lot of rest, love."

Scott gave her the lopsided smile that was all he could really manage with one side of his face still not working very well. "You're going to be a tyrant when we get home, aren't you?"

"That's my current plan, yes. I've contemplated being dictatorial, but tyranny is more fun."

"You're such fun when you're tyrannical. Especially when you wear black leather..." Okay, so maybe that last dose of painkillers at the hospital this afternoon hadn't quite worn off.

Jean almost snorted her coffee. "Tyrannical in leather. I think we can manage that," she said when she could breathe again past the laughter.

He'd made her laugh. Success! "I'm a very strange man," he said, then remembered that she'd told him that, back during the riot. "I wonder what happened to Ed."

"You are, indeed. One of many reasons I love you, I think. And, since I have no idea, I'm going to say he saw the light, gave up his life of crime and became a monk. All thanks to his encounter with Slim and Legs."