Scott and Jean, Monday night

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott and Jean arrive home, back to their very own suite. And Jean locks the door.


Jean closed the door to the suite with a sense of finality, locking it firmly. She knew everyone was concerned about Scott, wanted to make sure he was okay, but they would all just have to wait. Turning back she smiled reassuringly at Scott. "Welcome home, love."

Scott gave her a fleeting smile - fleeting, because it moved muscles in his face that really weren't all that happy with moving just now. "Thank you," he murmured, easing himself down on the couch. "And thank you for dealing with the gawkers." He was a little dizzy, still. Moving around this much was definitely not agreeing with him.

"Of course," Jean said. "Taking care of you, one of my favorite hobbies. Speaking of, are you hungry? I could make... something." She wasn't even entirely sure what they had in the fridge, nor if any of it would be edible, but surely there was something, if he wanted it.

"My stomach's kind of unsettled," Scott said after a moment, slowly. "I don't think... no, I'm not hungry." He caught himself reaching up a hand to the bandages again, and arrested the movement. Focus on something else. "The couch is blue," he said after a moment.

Jean nodded slightly, biting softly at her lip. Ok, the need to do something for him had to just calm down a bit... "It is," she replied. "I always thought you looked good in blue."

"Going to take a while to get used to the colors again," Scott said after another long pause. He looked over at her, acquiring that new and very distinctive head-tilt so that he could look right at her. "Something to drink, maybe? Not tea. I think Charles sees a lot of tea in my future..." He gave her another ghost of a smile, trying to cheer her up a little.

That he was trying to take care of her was... well, it was so perfectly Scott. "Orange juice I know we have," Jean said, smiling at him in return as she headed into the kitchen. "And possibly milk. Or water?"

"Orange juice would be good," Scott said after a moment. "Helga the wondernurse kept pushing it at me in the hospital. Did you know she was terrified of you, by the way?" He hadn't noticed that until the bandages had come off his good eye, but then it had been completely obvious.

The smile on Jean's face was definitely approaching smug as she poured the juice. "Really?" she asked, not sounding at all surprised. "I can't imagine why..."

"Were you terrorizing Helga while I was sleeping?" It felt good to be back, just to be here, bantering with her. "Poor Helga... all she wanted was the best for me, and you terrorize her... and I nearly blow off her head when she changes my bandages..."

"She wasn't being nearly careful enough with you," Jean said, bringing him the juice and settling down on the couch. "And also attempting to flirt. I disapproved." Which was putting it mildly. And possibly pulling rank on the poor girl had been out of line, but she'd deserved it.

"She fluttered. I hate that in people." Scott took the orange juice with a murmured thanks and brought it up to eye - literally, singular - level, examining the color closely. "Huh. Less red than I would have thought."

"She did. She thought it was cute." She had been wrong. And it was possible Jean had played the overprotective fiancee thing too far, but she'd deserved it. "There are reddish oranges," she added, "but the juice is still usually actually orange."

Scott stared at the orange juice for a few, very long moments more, and then remembered that he was supposed to be drinking it. His gaze wandered slowly around the living room, taking in details that seemed very new and fresh to him, just for the addition of color. "I remember just smiling and nodding and telling you that whatever you decided for the walls was fine with me," he murmured. "But you have good taste."

There was something wondrous about that look on his face as he saw everything again for the first time, and Jean indulged herself in watching him look about. "Thank you," she said quietly, "but if there's anything you want to change..."

"No... I like it." Scott looked back at her, the faint smile coming back. "I promise to sleep, rather than gawk at the bedroom." But something else caught his attention, and he set the orange juice on the coffee table, getting up slowly and making his unsteady way over to the table where Horatio's tank sat. "Hey, you," he murmured, peering in at the turtle. "Look at you."

"There will be plenty of time for gawking," Jean said, smiling as he headed over to look at Horatio. Pulling her feet up onto the couch, she lay her cheek on her knees, eyes following him closely.

"His shell's so colorful," Scott said quietly as the little turtle -he never had grown very big - swam up to the edge of the water, pawing at the glass. "Sorry, Horatio. Hungry?" He picked up the canister of food, opening the tank and sprinkling a little in. "Someone's been looking after him while we were gone, I can tell."

"Yes, I asked 'Ro to check on him. In one of the few moments my head was on straight enough to worry about things back here."

Scott straightened - and stopped, waiting for the dizziness to pass before he moved back towards the couch. He sagged down onto it a little more heavily than he intended. "Wish I'd stop feeling this tired," he murmured.

"You will," Jean said, "although I know it doesn't feel like it now. Give it some time, love." She smiled suddenly. "Now, are you going to drink your juice or am I going to have to force it on you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Scott said, picking up the glass of orange juice. "And I will take all my pills without protest. Even if some of them look like they ought to be fed to horses."

"Well, you're stubborn as a mule, so it's a good match." Being home again at last was such a weight off her shoulders. There was still a lot of work to do in his recovery, but they were home.