Scott and Jean, backdated to Wednesday night

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Backdated to Wednesday night. Scott gets his battered wife settled for the night, and discovers that the effects of the 'mind-meld' haven't quite run their course.


"I've decided," Scott said, and very meticulously fluffed one of Jean's pillows for her. "You're not allowed to leave the country with Nathan again. Maybe that's overly controlling of me, but I think, given the repeated precedents, that it's fair." He adjusted her blankets, next, and then eyed her with the blandest look imaginable.

Jean didn't really need the pillow fluffed; she'd have said she didn't need to be in bed at all, but Scott was being insistent. And she did hurt quite a bit... "I have to admit, at this point it's probably fair. Possibly it's a sign when having broken my arm is the least traumatic thing about the trip."

Scott sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her too much. He'd seen some of the bruises, after all. "Not that I don't appreciate what you all accomplished," he said quietly. "Because I do. But when you come home this battered, then I need to proceed to fuss over you incessantly. And you usually only find that entertaining for the first few days." He offered her a tiny smile.

She reached out her uninjured hand to him. "Well, true. On the not-really-a-plus-side-at-all, if you start to annoy me too much I can now swear at you in three new languages..."

"Ah. Fringe benefits." He took her hand in his, the look in his eye very intent, as if he was absolutely focused on her to the exclusion of all else. "I felt something, you know. When it happened. It wasn't much - just this feeling of disorientation, but I knew something was going on."

Jean nodded. "Even across the world, I'm not surprised. There was... so much power." She closed her eyes and her grip tightened on his hand. "I don't think not sending us out of the country is enough for a while," she said. "I don't know if we should even be on missions together for a bit. Training. It's... too tempting."

"Charles was saying that the two of you should keep your distance, powers-wise, for the next little while. Although he blames it as much on the state of Wakanda's astral plane as anything else - says that it's highly unlikely it would happen under normal circumstances." But he'd also been quite, quite clear on the fact that it was not to happen again, under any circumstances, and the Professor only sounded that firm when he really, really meant something.

Jean nodded, then shrugged. "A bizarre set of circumstances which turned out to be both the best and the worst thing that could have happened. Saidullayev was hopped on up on Kick - I don't think we could have beaten him any other way."

"I heard back from SHIELD. Apparently he's in a deep coma." Scott gazed at Jean for a moment, then shook his head slightly, giving her a faint smile. "Part of me can't help but see that as justice, you know..."

She snorted. "Comas are unpleasant. I hope he doesn't enjoy his as much as I never enjoyed mine." And then Jean paused, and blinked. "Er... um... Nate's. Damn it."

Scott gave her a steady look. "If the two of you are going to be doing that for the next little while... well, I'll just hope neither of you left anything particularly embarassing behind in each other's heads." It really was more than a little disturbing, but Charles had warned him about that possibility, too, so he'd been prepared.

Jean started to open her mouth, and then closed it firmly. "You know, I don't know, and I don't want to," she finally said. "Cause there's a good chance there's something up here..." With her good hand she bonked herself on the temple; a light tap but it still made her wince slightly. "But if there is, I'm not going looking for it."

"Sounds like a perfectly sound strategy to me. Do you need anything else?" Scott asked more briskly. "Food, water, painkillers, cat?" The corner of his mouth tugged upwards. "I don't know if you noticed her watching you in distress..."

"Yeah, actually. Is it just me or is that weird? Since when am I an object of concern to her?" Jean eyed Des, who was sitting on the window seat, staring at Jean.

"I think she's long since accepted you as one of her people. She just didn't want to be too obvious about that," Scott said, getting up and fetching said cat, who, upon being put on the bed, immediately curled up next to Jean's legs, purring. "See? There."

Reaching over, Jean stroked Des' ears, smiling faintly. "Dumb, weird little cat," she said fondly, then looked back up at Scott. "Soooo, I noticed 'laptop' was not included in that list of things you were willing to get me..."

"You have one good arm, woman," Scott said severely. "Also, Charles said that sleep will be very helpful in getting you back in your own right mind. So. No laptop tonight. Maybe laptop tomorrow." He bent over and kissed her.

Jean started to pout, but didn't get very far before Scott kissed her, so she gave it up as a lost cause. Besides, kisses, even gentle 'my wife's all broken and crazy, woe!' kisses, were better than her computer. "Oh, very well..." she said after a moment, sliding further down the bed with a little wince.

"I know. I'm a tyrant. You didn't answer me about the painkillers?" The wince had been all too obvious.

"I don't like them," she said, and there was a touch of sullenness in her voice. "They make me all woozy."

Scott's eyes narrowed at the change in her tone. "Are you going to flush them, if I try to press them on you?" he asked. Mildly.

Jean arched her eyebrows, making overly dramatic 'I'm thinking about this question you have asked' faces for a few moments before going, "Maaaaaaybe..."

"Then no painkillers for you, for now," Scott said amiably, and then went around to the other side of the bed, laying down on top of the covers. "Mind you, if I hear you whimpering in your sleep..."

"Deal," Jean said. She couldn't exactly roll over and cuddle up next to him, not with the broken arm, but she could and did scoot over a bit to use his shoulder as a pillow.

"Tell you a secret?" Scott murmured after a while, when he was fairly sure she was at least dozing. "Sitting back here while you're out there is actually harder than being beside you in the thick of it."

"Mmmm?" Jean said, burrowing down slightly. "How so?"

"Hard to explain," Scott said, and kissed the top of her head. "Just... it is." It was amazing how your standards of 'difficult' changed, over time. "Go to sleep," he said. "And no dreaming Nate's dreams."