Scott and Jean, Thursday evening

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Jean returns to the suite to find Scott at the mercy of a scary combination of pain pills and the Wizard of Oz.


Jean wasn't sure she'd ever really get used to the way Scott's mind felt when he was blissed out on the pain pills. The morphine had been one thing, but it tended to knock him on his ass more than anything else. These, though, would do that occasionally, but more often than not he'd get... well, loopy. And the thoughts coming through the link were decidedly disjointed.

Her work done for the day, Jean had grabbed two plates from the dining room - he wouldn't be able to eat with his stomach unsettled, but reheating was easier than actually cooking - and headed back to the suite.

"Scott?" she called, opening the door with her powers, her hands being otherwise occupied. "How are you..." she trailed off, spotting him sprawled across the couch. Yep, definitely loopy.

He waved limply. "Hi. I'm a little out of it." He peered at her, his eye bleary and somewhat unfocused. "Have you ever considered pigtails? I think pigtails would be nice... and a blue checked gingham dress."

"More than a little, I should say." Jean eyed him. "Are you planning on suggesting bright red shoes as well? Cause I've never really thought of myself as the Dorothy type."

"It was on," Scott said with another wave at the television, which was currently playing some generic romantic comedy. "And now there are Munchkin... things dancing with Meg Ryan in my head and I'm really very disturbed."

"And me in blue gingham. You are not the only one who's disturbed." Jean smiled, sending the plates off into the kitchenette before crossing the room to press a kiss to his forehead.

"I think you'd look very nice in ruby slippers." He would sit up, but he was half-afraid his head would fall off if he did. "Or, you know, a dress that looked like the ruby slippers. Sparkly."

"I think I would look like a redhaired disco ball, but who knows. You, though, should probably be being out of it in the bed. Since the television is giving you such strange, strange ideas."

"But if I wait, Dr. Phil will come on and I'll know the meaning of life."

"Right, now I know you're out of it." With a thought the tv switched off. "No Dr. Phil for you, love."

Scott muttered and sat up. Well, it was more like rolling slightly on his side - barely managing to not fall off the couch - and pushing himself up to a sitting position from there. "Whoa. Room spinning. Like a top."

"We'll go slowly," Jean said, offering him her hands for balance. "And not until you're ready."

"I still think you'd be cute in pigtails," Scott murmured, taking her hands but not trying to get up just yet. "You did once, remember? We were skiing. Or something..."

She smiled at him. "Yes, it was one of our winter breaks. And they actually carded me when I went into the bar wearing the pigtails and my wool hat. Hank thought it was quite funny."

"You were cute. Really cute." Scott took a deep breath, and then hauled himself upright, wobbing a little. "Yeeeeeah, standing up is no fun..."

Jean slipped her arm around his waist. "It's ok, I've got you."

"I'm going to have the strangest dreams," Scott murmured. "Just know it. If I say odd things in my sleep will you forget to tell me in the morning?"

The chuckle was stifled, although the laugh echoed slightly in Jean's mind. "I promise, love. Won't even try to get you back for the anteater that needed a date."

"I thought Horatio was talking to me, earlier," Scott offered.

"Oh? What did he say? Anything useful? If he's figured out where I left my pearl earrings, I'd love to know." Jean grinned and, as Scott seemed steadier on his feet, gently lead him towards the bedroom.

"He was singing. 'I am the very model of a modern major-general'. It was very disturbing."

There was no way to stop the laugh that that started, but her support as they walked never wavered. "Yes," Jean said when she could again, "I think that would be."