Scott and Jean, Monday afternoon

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Jean happens upon her husband, who is stewing in the 'reevaluating my career path' sort of way.


It was entirely out of the ordinary for Scott to be anywhere near the bedroom at this time of day, let alone flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. On the other hand, he was fully clothed, the drapes were open letting in the sunlight, and he appeared to be wide awake - if counting something silently on his fingers. Sitting by his feet, Des's tail twitched idly, and the little cat kept looking over her shoulder at her human, almost quizzically.

Jean was simply stopping upstairs to pick up some notes for class she'd been working on over the break and forgotten, but her husband's presence caught her attention and she peeked into the bedroom. "Scott? What's up?"

"I'm counting the ways in which I hate my job," was the muttered response. He did not, unusually, look up at her. "It seems to be taking me a considerable amount of time."

Jean blinked, tilting her head and considering him. It was definitely a sort of slow simmering burn inside his head, but that didn't actually preclude an explosion. Just not one right now. Stepping inside she settled on the chair by the window. "Should I ask?"

"Proximate reasons are just straws on the camel's back," Scott said vaguely, not sure why he wasn't ranting. Oh, right. Adult awareness of discretion and professionalism. Dang. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shifting upwards on the bed. Des flopped onto her side, watching him.

"Well, I'd never suggest you don't have more than your fair share of straws. Cause that would be idiotic. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Scott finally did sit up, provoking an aggravated hiss from the cat as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed at his temples, then gave her a crooked smile. "Do you remember how we talked about me wanting to finish my master's degree? Well, I'm thinking I may not. What's an advanced degree in education but a passport to talking about education... thinking about education... arguing with other people about education... basically doing everything but educating people."

Ah. He must have had one of those mornings. Which was odd, as they'd just gotten off break and there'd been a distinct lack of fuss recently. What the hell could someone have been hassling him about? "Well, you've always prefered hands on to theoretics, of course... What sparked this, love?"

"Oh, Crystal had some concerns, but that's not really the point." Yet wasn't he proving her right, in a way? Scott frowned fitfully, trying to sort through it in his head. His tactical thinking was impaired here. "I just don't think I'm any good at anything that's not the hands-on stuff. And yet... I know I may, will have to be, eventually, which is what's driving me crazy right now. I'm just..." He stopped, sighed, and sank his face into his hands. "Tired of juggling," he said in a muffled voice. "Even when I don't drop balls."

Standing up, Jean moved over to sit next to him, hugging him lightly. "You are, actually. Good at more than just the hands-on stuff. Yes, that's where you excel, but you're pretty damn versatile. Regardless of how you feel right now." Leaning her head on his shoulder, she added, "And I wouldn't say you've dropped any balls lately."

Scott couldn't help a brief laugh. "No, I suppose I haven't," he said, placing his hand over hers and squeezing lightly. "All in all, the travails of 2008 so far haven't had much to do with the school achieving Epic Fail, to quote the kids... I just wonder whether there's any getting ahead, even when things are pretty quiet. I guess I'm just tired." His lips twitched. "Do you have any idea how much work it takes to be calm and unflappable when I really want to rant, rave, shout, and slam people's heads into walls occasionally?"

Jean smiled a sharp little smile, although her eyes held no malice; or, at least, none for him. "Mmmm, some idea, yes."

His lips twitched a little more noticeably. "Yes, of course you do." Scott gave another laugh that was half a sigh, leaning his head against hers for a moment. "I just... really am so goddamned tired, Jean. I'd like a little time to myself, where I'm not... on stage, or however the hell you want to put it."

"Why didn't we go away for Spring Break?" Jean asked, not entirely idly. Although 'why didn't I notice this was building up before' was probably the better question. Too caught up in her own projects. "We could both seriously use the holiday."

"If we plan for the summer, we may actually manage it," was Scott's vaguely wistful reply. He squeezed her hand again. "Honestly, though... as little as I object to tropical climates where you wear very little clothing, I'm not sure it's a break that's in order as much as a change." He paused for a moment, thinking about how to put this. "I do a better job, at all my jobs, than I did two years ago," he finally said, slowly. "I'm kind of getting used to this whole... putting my back into it and just doing it, rather than worrying about it. But the clear-headedness just means that I'm seeing things more clearly. And I'm thirty years old and feel like I'm fifty. Once the term's over, I need to do some thinking."

"All right," Jean said calmly. "Sounds reasonable to me. Cause while I'm definitely in favor of the worrying less? Would be even more in favor of you not ending up this stressed on a semi-regular basis."

The smile she got in return definitely was not fifty-years-oldish in any way, shape or form; in fact, it was almost mischievous. "Well, see, there could be unforeseen fringe benefits. Never let it be said that I don't enjoy the wild post-mission sex, but if I stopped mentally running over to-do lists on everyday nghts... horrifying thought, I know. But I like the idea of having more energy for other things."

Jean laughed, then leaned over to give him a kiss. "Well, you'll get no complaints from me, certainly. Although the extra effort to get you to stop thinking about to-do lists is always worth it..."

He devoted some time and energy to kissing her back properly, and then drew back, resting one hand on the side of her face for a moment and smiling at her. "That's one of the other things, you know. I know we're both workaholics, but I'm worse than you. And we shouldn't have to live our lives in the moments between crises, let alone over rushed breakfasts and then an hour or two at the end of the day."

"Mmmm, again, wouldn't complain in the slightest, but..." She paused, considering him. "If this is going to end up with you taking up Phillip's offer of a job I will happily move to Alaska, but you have to give me enough warning to update my resume." Jean grinned to show she was joking, mostly.

He smiled, but his response was more serious. "Tempting as the thought is... I think year-round living that far north is not for me." And he didn't want to go anywhere, quite frankly. He just wanted... a bit less of the regimented life.

"Certainly winters would be problematic," Jean agreed. Leaning foward, she kissed him softly. "I have faith you'll figure out what you need, and once you know that nothing's going to stop you from getting it. Cause if anyone tries, I'll kick their ass. But..." she sighed, "I need to go do some prep work for classes tomorrow."

"You do that," Scott said, the smile lingering, "and I'll call somewhere and make reservations for dinner. We haven't been out for a while." And maybe it was best to start with the small steps.

"Sounds like a plan to me," she said, standing up. "My vote is for something Asian."