Not So Plain Jane - Bad Calls, Close Calls and Unmade Calls

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

After fucking up with Terry and having been deprived of her chance to torment Scott last week, Jane is not in a good mood. Hunting down Scott may, then, not have been the best of moves.



It was probably possible for Jane's mood to be fouler. It would likely be a very bad idea for any innocent bystanders (although any telepath could tell you that none of them were really innocent) if her mood were to be worse, but it was probably possible. For one thing, that stupid Haller with his stupid messed up head and his stupid being too fucking easy and taking the fun out of things had come into the city and not Scott, so Jane had had to come looking for Scott. Which meant pretending it was pure coincidence that they met was going to be a bit difficult. For another she'd had to come into Westchester to find him. Fucking Westchester. She felt like any second Xavier's heavy hand was going to fall out of the sky and swat her into the ground, the sanctimonious, over bearing fucker.

And then Scott's damned lunch had run long. Who cared about these damned people and their poor freak of a son. They could rot in hell, for all Jane cared, although she had to admit that if the boy was admitted to the school it would be much the same thing for him, at least.

Scott, after bidding goodbye to the Wesleys and their son, decided that he needed a walk before heading back to the school. The lunch had been tense - Mrs. Wesley clearly liked the idea of Xavier's, while Mr. Wesley was suspicious. Frederick himself had been almost appallingly withdrawn, barely picking at his lunch. The boy had developed enhanced senses, to hear his parents tell it. Why they'd dragged him out in public, Scott didn't know, but at least he'd talked them into coming to the school itself and talking to Charles.

Jane watched him leave the restaurant and turn down the street towards the city park. Hmmm... how to... Oh, perfect. Stepping down a side street so she could hurry into the park before he got there, Jane found the couple she'd sensed and picked up all the information she needed. Innocent bystanders my ass, she thought. Hah. She's been looking for an excuse to break up with him for months and completely failed to notice that he's sleeping with her best friend. They'll do fine. And yes, Scott had picked this path, would be coming into view in a few seconds.

Stepping out of the path, she placed herself directly in the couples way. "Michael, you shit. How could you?"

The two stopped, startled and confused. Glancing at his girlfriend, the man said, "Excuse me, do I know you?"

"Oh, real nice," Jane said. "This is your girlfriend then, I take it? And you're going to pretend we've never met? That you weren't fucking my brains out during lunch three days ago?"

"You what?" the woman spoke up, looking startled, even as Michael said, "I never..." But Jane didn't let them get that far.

"Look, I didn't care you were just using me to get your rocks off, since Erica here's so completely shit in bed, that's fine, but then I find out about Samantha, and that just makes me mad. Christ, what are you, some kind of sex fiend? How many other girls are you doing on the side? Well, that's it. I'm done with you. The sex isn't worth it." Leaving the couple to their own devices (and already Erica had turned on Michael with a "Samantha? My best friend? You asshole!") she made as though to storm off...

Straight into Scott.

Scott had heard the argument, and at first hadn't quite absorbed that it was Jean. Even when she bumped into him, for a moment it just did not compute. What he'd heard, the scene in front of him...

"Jean?" he asked softly, uncertainly, barely registered the other man leaving, the woman following him, shouting. "This is... kind of a coincidence."

"Scott?" she echoed, and the smile almost escaped onto her face so she pulled up her hands and buried her head in them with a muttered, "Oh, hell. Could this day get any worse?"

Scott looked at the retreating couple, then back at her. Say something, part of his mind chided him. But he opened his mouth - and nothing came out. He closed it again, uncertainty and unhappiness crossing his face like clouds as he looked away.

Her face back under control, Jane looked up, smoothing her hair back. "Well," she started, by Erica's shrill voice off in the distance cut her off.

"She certainly seemed to know you pretty well, and she was right about one thing - the sex isn't that good!"

Which proved to be her undoing. Her control slipped and she smiled faintly, a cruel little smile, although it was gone in a flash.

Someone here, in Westchester? Scott thought somewhat desolately as he saw the smile. What the hell was going on? part of him snarled in hurt disbelief. He couldn't have not seen all of this... could he?

Treating him nicely right now might just snap his brain, Jane decided. It definitely had to be tried. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she said, softly, very intentionally using Jean's 'taking care of you' voice. "It wasn't... I shouldn't... I should go." Hesitation, uncertainty, man, she had her Jean impression down pat. And God was she a whiny bitch.

Her tone, soft as it was, was like steel wool rubbed on an open wound, and Scott's head jerked back towards her. "So let me get this straight," he said, his voice very low, the ragged tightness in it almost inaudible. "You were sleeping around."

Hmm, yes or no, yes or no. Choices, choices, choices. Certainly the yes would hurt more, but she'd already started with the sickening sweet act today. Might as well keep it up. "What? Oh, God, Scott, no." Man, she almost sounded like the accusation had hurt. She was gooooood. "No, Scott, I swear it. I told you I was leaving you before I... Before anything happened." Of course, the fact that it hadn't even been a month and she was already causing scenes in public with 'lovers' put a bit of a crimp in the idea that she was all sweetness and light, but that suited Jane just fine.

Scott stared at her. "You really ought to shield the link better if you're going to try playing innocent," he said hoarsely. "All that spite and anger leaking down doesn't do much for your case."

The soft look vanished, replaced instantly by a glare. Damn that fucking thing. If she knew how to get the fucking link out of her fucking head she would and damn Jean for never shutting it off. She didn't understand how it worked and she hated that he could see into her head and he would pay for it. The anger he'd mentioned built up into a bright flash of pure rage that she all but shoved at him.

It hurt. Heat blazed down the link and sent him reeling backwards briefly, pain stabbing through his skull. "I don't buy it," he forced out raggedly, fighting for air, even as a vice seemed to close around his chest. "All of this anger... where's it c-coming from?"

Regaining control, she damped the link down as much as she could again. "Clearly, it's that time of the month," she said snidely.

Scott wiped away a trickle of blood from his nose, forcing himself to straighten. "What did I do, Jean?" he asked unevenly. "That you're this angry. Kind of puts the lie to it being just about wanting a different life..."

"Oh, and it's all about you, is it? I couldn't be angry at Michael and you've just presented an easy target. Christ, self important much?"

"Try that around someone who wasn't raised by a telepath," Scott said with a tight, bitter smile. "Seriously, Jean. I'm an idiot on a lot of levels, but you weren't doing a whole lot of hiding your intentions a minute ago."

Damnit. Losing her temper had been a bad idea. "You want to know what you did, Scott? You want to know why I'm so angry? Fine." She glared at him, and all but spit the words out. "You. Didn't. See. You had no idea what was going on right in front of you, and now you're so stunned that it's come to a head. You might as well have lose both eyes, for how blind you can be."

David's words from weeks ago came back, all at once, and Scott's eye narrowed. "Well, pardon me," he said, and the words came out in a shaky growl, "I was fooled by how well you lied. I really didn't know you were that accomplished, Jean."

"Oh, the signs were there, Scott. You can blame me if you want, if it makes you feel better, pretend I was hiding things from you, but it doesn't change the fact that you never even noticed." She wondered if she could get him to go over every moment of their lives together again to see what he missed. Maybe the whole thing would be too big a challenge, but the last two months might be doable.

"Pretend?" He took a step towards her, his eyes locked on hers. "Whatever I missed, Jean," he said, and the growl wasn't quite so shaky this time, "you're forgetting one thing. You're the mindreader, not me. You hid things. You didn't say anything. You bottled it all up until you couldn't stand it anymore, if I can believe what you're saying now... you don't get to put all of this on my shoulders, you coward."

"Yes, your right," she agreed suddenly, her voice going soft. "I'm the one who was pushing it all down, locking it all away. I'm the one who made walls in my mind. Maybe I should make a big sign, one that says 'Jean Grey, this is your own fault'." Maybe Scott could tell she wasn't talking to him anymore, but Jane didn't care as inside the dark prison her mind a soft whimper could be heard.

"Jean..." His voice broke. "All you had to do was talk to me. You didn't want the X-Men anymore? For fuck's sake, there are times I don't. We had options..." He was not pleading with her. He was not.

He was, and it was good, but it wasn't enough. "You don't get it, Scott," she said, driving the knife a little deeper. "I didn't want the X-Men, I didn't want the school, I didn't want any of it. Not a single thing." She left the 'not you' hanging unsaid, enjoying watching him twist as he heard it echo in his mind anyway.

He stared at her, his jaw clenching so hard that it took an effort to force the words. "I don't believe you," he gritted. "I think something happened - I think something went wrong, somehow, and now you're just trying to cover it."

"Yeah, well, let me know when you decide what you think that thing is. If nothing else, it ought to be entertaining."

Scott kept staring at her for a long moment, then shook his head. His hand slid into his pocket, almost automatically. He had his com, of course. All he'd need to do was let Charles know she was here, and Charles would be able to take a look and see for himself...

She seriously considered just shutting his mind down and fleeing, really kind of wanted to a lot from the second the idea entered Scott's mind, but that would be one BIG flashing red light saying 'hey! she's got something to hide' and she wasn't ready for that yet. Might never be, if it would mean dealing with Xavier. "And we're back to the thing where you think I'm possessed. Fabulous. This is getting old fast, Scott." Just because she wasn't going to run away screaming didn't mean she wasn't getting out of here, though. "I'd say it was nice seeing you, and hey, it'd just be another lie on top of all the others, right? I did what I came here to do, and now I'm leaving. Have a good day." Turning on her heel, Jane walked off, managing to pull off cool and collected and completely unconcerned quite well.

She wasn't... she could have tried to stop him, but she hadn't... Scott withdrew his hand from his pocket, staring after her mutely. But hadn't Betsy... Kwannon been the same way? Almost daring him to act, and he hadn't. He...

The look on Jane's face as she walked off was one of concentration. She slowly, carefully slipped into his mind and gave it the slightest of nudges - already he was only a little inclined to go through with it, it wasn't hard to shift him to being slightly more inclined not to. Not taking away the suspicion, which would be far too obvious and it wasn't as though she cared if he suspected her. She wasn't even making him decide not to call Charles, but simply making it more likely that he'd decide for himself not to.

Scott's shoulders slumped. He had to talk to Charles, he thought desperately. Figure out whether it was just him, trying to come up with some reason, some excuse... wanting the easy explanation. He took a deep, unsteady breath and then turned away, trying to ignore the ache in his chest.