Scott and Jean, after boxing

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Jean steers her tottering husband upstairs and dumps him in some nice hot water. Then joins him. (It's too bad he's one big bruise and not up for anything fun.) Oddly enough, they end the night laughing.


"Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to be eating meals through a straw for a while," Scott mumbled, rubbing at his very (very, very) sore jaw as he sank further into the hot water. "Oh right... Logan beat the crap out of me."

"You get no sympathy from me," Jean said, fussing about in the bathroom, "and you know it." Not that she'd given him any grief about his bout with Logan, nor was she like to - they both understood what it had really been about, and she didn't really disagree with his reasoning, nor his methods. But that wasn't exactly the same as condoning them, and far from aproving of them.

"Next time I choose a better way to make a point." This had just been convenient, and it wasn't actually all that out of the ordinary that convenient equalled painful. It was the universe's way of punishing you for taking the easy way out, he thought. He would have smiled, except that it would have hurt quite a bit. "Hey, at least I've got a reason to be sore now..."

"True enough, and that can be psychologically helpful in cases of phantom pain," Jean said, somewhat idly, her attention taken by the mirror. "Damn, 'Ro got some seriously good hits in," she said. "At least, with the gloves, this time I'm spared the black eye." Turning back to him she eyed the bubble filled tub she'd prepared and then dumped him into. "How much room is there in there?"

Scott opened his eye, then scooted upwards a bit. "Enough," was his too-cheerful, slightly loopy reply. "Cain installed big tubs when he renovated this wing. And yes, 'Ro was having fun hitting me too."

"Mmm, yes, saw that," Jean said, her voice sounding slightly muffled as she pulled her shirt over her head revealing at least one forming bruise on her side from a blow that had gotten through her defenses in the first round.

"She needs a vacation. Nice long vacation." Scott closed his eyes again, only a very small part of him pointing out the wrongness of this. If Jean was going to be in the tub with him, he wasn't supposed to doze off, was he? That was very wrong.

Jean stepped carefully into the tub, settling down besides Scott with a sigh as the warm water wrapped around her. "Ok, this was a good idea. Why did I let you have the tub first? Remind me?" She closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall.

"It was either that or leave me on the floor?" Scott joked. He had definitely been tottering a little as they'd made it up to the room. Strangely, he felt less out of it now, despite the drowsiness. Maybe the warm water was having the desired effect.

"I could have gotten you in the bed telekinetically," Jean informed them, then wrinkled her nose. "Oh, right. It was because you smelled." Part of the reason for the bath - they'd decided to skip using the team showers and just head upstairs. "Ah well. At least this way I get a pillow." And, suiting action to words, she appropriated his shoulder for use as her pillow.

It was funny, Scott thought. Despite the emotionally charged evening, and the point he'd been trying to make, fighting Logan, and all of it... right now he couldn't think beyond this moment, and he couldn't convince himself that was a bad thing. There really wasn't anything wrong with living in the moment, and bruises and cuts aside, this wasn't a bad moment at all. He turned his head, pressing a kiss against Jean's forehead.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with living in the moment. Or just floating in it, which was closer to what Jean was doing. "Mmmm," she half-hummed, closing her eyes and just breathing in deeply, reveling in the warmth and Scott's closeness.

"It's a pity we can't just stay in here," he said softly. "I don't know about you, but I'm kind of liking it."

"Yes," Jean agreed, not opening her eyes. "I'm all for staying here, at least until the water cools. 'S nice."

"I don't know that I'm going to be able to get out of bed tomorrow," Scott said after another long moment, "but it's funny, I feel pretty good." A lot of the tension he'd been carrying around was just... gone. "Ororo and Nate had a good idea."

"Normal coworkers take vacations, or do training exercises together. We beat the crap out of each other. You know, whatever works." Lifting her head off his shoulder, Jean smiled at him. "I'm glad it worked for you."

"Yeah, well. I figure there was some psychological truth behind that movie-" He had actually watched 'Fight Club' again prior to tonight, out of curiosity. "-or it wouldn't have been that popular." And that was quite enough of the contemplative talk. He ran a hand down her arm, rather tickled by the way the water was beading on her skin. Okay, maybe I'm a little concussed...

The thought was loud enough that Jean heard it, frowning slightly. Reaching over she cupped his cheek in her hand, turning his face towards her. "You have got to stop getting whacked in the head, love," she said. "You're turning into Nate." And then she kissed him.

Oh, yes. This was far better than beating Logan would have been. Far, far better. And although it did hurt to move, hot water or no hot water, he was damned well going to do it anyway. Scott focused his wandering attention on kissing her back, and doing it soundly.

It was why she had left before the fight - because regardless of how it had gone, this was where she wanted to be. That fight had not been about her, needed to not be about her, and she'd wanted everyone to know it wasn't about her. Including the contestants. And, as much as the fight hadn't been about this moment, this moment was definitely not about the fight. There wasn't enough air to say it, but the thought was shared between them. #Love you.#

He had to stop kissing her, unfortunately, because he wasn't quite breathing properly through his nose, and passing out would be a bad thing. Despite the very, very loud protest of his bruised ribs, he started to laugh a bit breathlessly at the idea of swooning at a moment like this.

"Come on," Jean said, reluctantly standing up and grinning at him. "The water's cooling off, and if you're planning on swooning anytime soon, on the bed would be better than in the tub."

"Heh... I think I'm a little punch-drunk," he muttered in weak amusement as she helpd him out of the tub. "Have I mentioned that you're blinding when you're naked, lately...? In the good way, I mean. Not in the putting my other eye out sort of way..." Okay, where was the giddiness coming from?

Jean gave him an incredulous look, then the giggles started. In a moment she was laughing so hard she was crying. "Scott..." she managed after a while, "you... so strange." And it was a good thing there was a wall to lean against while she laughed, because she was beginning to suspect he'd fall down if she leaned against him.

"Blinding me with science..." And now he was just rambling. "Want to bet Forge copies the tape on you and 'Ro having at it? It'll wind up on the internet one of these days, you just watch..." Oooh, bed. Nice bed.

"And here I thought I was blinding you with the naked. Into the bed, Scott. Don't just admire it, get in. Lie down. Don't make me push you."

There was a feline screech as he collapsed on the bed and Des quickly vacated her hiding place under the covers. "Sorry, cat..."

Jean shook her head at Scott, watching amused as the offended Des strutted out of the bed room, well aware that the little fuzz ball would be back some time before they woke up to carefully fit herself on the pillow between them, tail over Jean's nose. "You're going to be so sore in the morning," she said, transferring her attention back to Scott. "And I'd say you'll get no sympathy from me, but we both know what a lie that would be." Toweling her hair off quickly she shook her head then, so carefully he didn't even notice at first, lifted him telekinetically up to pull the blankets out from under him.

"Wasn't really fighting Logan, you know," he murmured, not really registering the shift in position. "Well. I was at first, but then it didn't really matter any more." Logan or Lyman or Puff the Magic Dragon. "They all saw," he said with a sigh, opening his eye and focusing on her as she settled onto the bed beside him. "That I didn't roll over and play dead... that's all that matters."

"I know, love," Jean said, carefully sliding an arm around his battered form. "You did it, and you did it your way and for your reasons. That's all that matters." She snorted. "If it had been about Logan, I'd have knocked you out myself."

"I love you. Even when you're threatening to knock me out," Scott said with another more than slightly giddy smile. "In fact, really, that's kind of hot when I stop to think about it..."

"First Mystique, now you. I seem to have become much more violent since I went to study with the Buddhists in Tibet. Surely that's backwards." Propping herself up on her elbow, Jean kissed the giddy smile, amused as the giddy level along the link went up.

"You have a perverse streak a mile wide." His hand slid along her ribs, headed unerringly for one particular sensitive spot. "And it's... ticklish, too..."

What had started as a quiet hum of contentment quickly morphed into a stifled shriek. "Cheating!" she protested, squirming under his hand. "Cheating! And you're all bruised; I can't hit you!"

"I know, isn't it great?" He kissed her again before she could yelp. The hot bath combined with the being horizontal had given him a tiny bit of energy back, and he was going to make the best of it, oh, yes.

And, of course, when he kissed her like that, not only could she not protest, but she stopped wanting to. Which was also cheating, a small portion of her mind pointed out before shutting down.

It was a good thing she wasn't going to hit him, because one elbow to his ribs probably would have left him curled up and whimpering at this point, and this was much more fun. He couldn't quite keep the punch-drunk evil sparkle off the link.

The giddiness was a tad bit infectious, Jean decided, feeling his elated mood like a heady fizz in her mind. Gave new meaning to the phrase 'drunk on kisses'. She did try to keep his battered state in mind, keep her touch light, but he was making it hard to keep anything in mind.

"You smell really nice," he murmured when he paused for breath. "All... Jean-like."

"I'm glad to hear that 'Jean-like' is a good smell," Jean said, almost managing to keep a straight face, although faint touches of a grin were hovering around the corners of her mouth. "It would be such a shame if you didn't like it."

"I missed it." It slipped out before he could help it, but the comment sounded more tender than loopy. He raised an hand, smoothing still-wet red hair back away from her face. "I missed you, so much... I've told you that, right?"

Jean nodded, snuggling into his arms. "I missed you, too. More than I can say."

"And I want to do all kinds of R-rated things to you at the moment, but I think moving around that much will make me cry." It was not a giggle, the noise that slipped out right there. It was a laugh. A very manly laugh.

It was so a giggle, but Jean wasn't going to tell. "Later, love. There will be other, less pain filled times and then I will take you up on being taken."

Not giggling. So not giggling. "I love your sense of humor. Almost as much as your legs."

Absolutely giggling, and about to set Jean off as well. "That's a lot of love, there, that is. I approve."