Jean and Scott, Sunday night

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Role-reversal is a funny, funny thing.


By habit, Jean reached for a night shirt and had it halfway over his head before his brain caught up with her. Not the bit that needed covering. Although it might help Scott with the weirdness factor. She went ahead and pulled the shirt on, noticing that it only came just to his waist now that she was taller, then went rummaging through Scott's drawers until she found one of his pajama bottoms.

Scott emerged from the bathroom, fiddling nervously with the buttons on the shirt she was wearing. One of his, in an unconscious reversal of the way Jean usually did things. It was larger on her than it would have been on Jean, of course. Which was vaguely reassuring, for some reason.

"I see why you do this. It's comfortable."

Jean turned, smiling, to answer, but the words got caught in the sudden tightness in his throat. I see why you like it... The thought was projected before his brain caught up with his... other brain. "Damn, sorry."

"Jean, if you keep apologizing I'm going to smother you in your sleep." Scott smiled - if somewhat edgily - just to make sure that Jean knew she was joking.

"Right." She managed to swallow the 'sorry' that threatened. "I just... don't want to add to the weirdness."

"Yeah, I know." Scott got into bed, looking around a little distractedly. "I wonder where Des is hiding." The cat had taken one look at them and bolted into the bedroom, and hadn't been out all day.

Jean's brain was offering up a strange parallel between the cat and a young girl's teddy bear, but he was smart enough not to say anything. "I'm sure she'll be out sooner or later. Eventually she'll want food." Probably it was the smells which confused Des. Certainly when he got too close to Scott his brain started to shut down, which she was definitely attributing to the faint sent of perfume which clung to the clothes Scott had borrowed. Which was weird, because it was Jean's perfume.

Scott relaxed back against the pillows, gaze flickering around the familiar confines of the bedroom. "Think we'll wake up and find out this was all a dream?"

Slipping into her side of the bed, Jean shrugged. "We can but hope."

Scott hesitated for a moment, then slid over, resolving that no, they were not going to be sleeping on opposite edges of the bed, weirdness or no weirdness. "I'm fundamentally a pessimist, though," she said, settling down rather tentatively.

Jean smiled, relaxing as Scott curled against him. "You are, this is true. As always, my optimism will cary the day." He shifted lightly, sliding an arm under Scott's head. Strange to be the shoulder that got rested against.

"I'm going to hold you to that," was Scott's somewhat sleepy reply.

Jean pressed a kiss to the top of Scott's head. "'Kay."