xp_logs | Jean and Scott and pool...

x-jeangrey.livejournal.com posting in

... and SCHMOOP!

Friday night, after Sarah heads home, Scott collects on his bet and they end up playing pool anyways.

"So," Scott said, casting a longing look in the direction of the pool table. "Since I won the bet, does that mean I get to beat you at pool, too?" He glanced back at Jean with a quick grin. "Because, believe it or not, I've rather missed that..."

Jean grinned, cradling her beer, inwardly thrilled at the world. Her sister had come and they'd talked for hours and made plans and had ideas, and Harry had been completely phlegematic about seeing her walk in the door, and now it was a chance just to have some time with Scott. "Sure," she said, "but I'm breaking."

Scott made the 'after you' gesture as he got up. "You look happy," he said, quietly and rather contentedly. "Sarah looked happy, too. I'm really glad."

"I am." Jean stood and headed for the pool table, setting her drink down on the edge and automatically reaching out for her favorite cue which was, as always, in the same slot on the wall. "Once we got past the happy-to-be-alive, which currently I think I do better than anyone," she added with a wry look, "we even managed to talk about some practical stuff. Like getting my will reversed."

"Oh." Scott's eyes widened a little behind his glasses as he followed her over. "Is that liable to be too awkward? I--don't really remember much about those particular details," he confessed a bit awkwardly.

"Less awkward than telling the world at large I'm not dead, I think," Jean said, gesturing for Scott to rack the balls. "The school and my family were the primary benificiaries, and since I'm ok with not touching the trust fund that got set up for the twins, that means it's just a matter of, well, talking to people. No need for lawyers to get involved, thankfully."

Scott sighed and racked the balls. "Have you had any thoughts about how you're going to do that?" He really should have asked her before this. There was so much more involved in all of this than just her and him.

"Which, telling the world?" Jean leaned over the table, sighting along the cue. "Yes and no. Have thought about it, but I don't really have a good answer. Thankfully Charles went with missing, presumed dead and some story about a camping trip or something, so a miraculous retrieval will at least not be so far fetched, but..." She took the shot and the balls split apart with a definite-sounding crack. The four rolled out and dropped into the side pocket. "At least I'm not completely out of shape," she said.

"You've never been a bad pool player," Scott pointed out brightly. "I've just always been better. I mean, when you don't cheat."

The next shot sunk the six but put the cue ball well away from any reasonable shot she could see. So, Jean did the sensible thing and thudded the cue into the worst possible line up she could manage for Scott. It wouldn't stop him, but it might slow him down... "I was always impressed when you managed to sink a shot even with a tk wall in the middle of the table."

"Talent," Scott said blithely. "Pure natural talent." He'd realized what she was trying to do, of course, but it wasn't really that bad a line-up - as he proved with his first shot.

Jean grinned as she picked up her drink and leaned against the wall. "Miss a shot eventually or I'll be forced to distract you and I can't rely on my powers to do it..." There was definitely a Look in her eyes - banter and pool at Harry's was far too normal for her not to fall back into old patterns and JeanandScott was the most basic patter of them all.

It felt good. Awfully good. "Oh, I'm sure you'll come up with something," Scott said, then made another perfect shot. "You always were creative, after all." He summoned up the requisite cocky grin, then paused to take a sip of his beer before moving around to the other side of the table.

Jean caught his eye as he moved around the table and arched an eyebrow. "I have no doubt I can come up with something..." she said, a teasing smile tugging up the corner of her lips.

"Like I said. I have faith in you." He figured she would let him get away with one more good shot, so he took it, then sized up the table, trying to decide what next. His knee was twinging, but he ignored it; he was going to have to get used to it, he suspected, if he was going to get back into training with any kind of speed.

Jean felt the twinge of pain and was distracted by his thoughts. "Oi, Scott, don't push it too fast. You'll be cleared for normal training soon, you know." Idly she wondered what he would do if she offered him a kiss for every missed shot, but wasn't sure her pride would be up to it if he turned her down.

Scott altered his aim, just a fraction. The results were perfectly predictable - well, to him. "Whoops," he said cheerfully. "Missed that one." He went back to reclaim his beer. "And it can't be soon enough," he said briskly. "Getting back to training, I mean. The enforced physical inactivity is driving me insane."

Jean managed to stifle the unladylike snort that almost escaped at his 'cover', but she was perfectly happy to take a chance at the table again and her first shot sunk another ball. "Yes, I know," she said, "but the other option is push it too hard, too fast, and end up with a limp you'll have to compensate for forever."

"Which would be no fun." He watched her line up another shot, content to just... well, wallow in the quiet peacefulness of the scene. It wasn't that he was pretending this was two years ago, or even that he wanted to pretend that. But she was here, with him. And he'd forgotten how her smile lit up the room.

"Which would definitely not be fun," she agreed. The second shot went in, but she'd put too much force on the cue and the cue ball followed it down. Jean pouted, retrieving it and tossing it to Scott. "I have both personal interest and professional pride involved in seeing you back at one hundred percent, you know."

"Preexisting weakness, by the way," Scott said, catching the cue ball. "The knee, I mean. Dinged it up in the Room back in late January running a test scenario designed for Nathan." He smirked a little. "Not the smartest thing I've ever done in my life."

"Running through a scenario designed for a telekinetic?" Jean raised an eyebrow at him. "No, probably not. Dare I ask what the scenario was? And we might want to add a couple ultrasound treatments to your PT, then, to help losen up the muscles."

"Whatever the doctor orders," Scott said. "And it was one of a string of no-win scenarios we ran him through back before he got full team status." He leaned over the table, thinking his next words instead of saying them aloud. There was a rather serious flaw in the training Mistra gave him. We couldn't have an X-Man who refuses to retreat, let alone one doing that because at a subconscious level he was afraid of being punished if he did. Alison came up with a way to break him of it. It worked, though it was pretty hard on him - and those of us who had to test the scenarios out first.

"Ah..." Jean said carefully, nodding. "Yes, I can see that being... problematic." Then she smiled wryly. "It always comes back to work with us, doesn't it?"

Scott coughed. "I refuse to answer on the grounds that it will incriminate me," he said, then smiled just as wryly as she had. "But yeah. Although I don't think it's you so much as me. While you were... gone, I turned into even more of a workaholic than I was. Although you've probably figured that out already." She'd certainly been affronted to find him working in his office at 1am the other night.

"Which, when one considers the start point, is saying something very worrying. Shall simply have to go back to distracting you from your work regularly, then." Jean grinned brightly at him, although some of her old 'distractions' weren't exactly appropriate these days... Well, she could come up with some new tricks until they were.

She was giving him that grin. It had been a long, long time since that grin had had the power to make him nervous, but he still remembered those days quite fondly. "I'm getting better," he protested lightly, leaning over the table. "We've still got our frequent crises, but there are more people to share the load. And at least there's less actual carnage in the halls than there was back in the fall." He sighed.

"Yes, that's an improvment, and as long as you remember to let the other people share the load then that's all to the good." She waved at the table with the hand holding her drink. "So, are you planning to clear it or let me take another couple shots?"

Scott took one more shot, then missed the next deliberately. "All yours," he said, waving a hand at the table and going back for his beer. "Never let it be said I didn't let you get the last word--I mean shot." He gave her a deadpan look.

Jean stuck her tongue out at him, but was lined up her shot carefully. "And here I thought you were only going to let me win if Sarah took longer than five seconds to attack-hug me." Well, admitedly, unlike Scott it was not a sure thing that she'd clear her balls, but thunked into the pockets like a dream, and she stoped to consider her next shot.

"I reserve the right to change my mind at times," Scott said innocently. "It's not just a feminine prerogative, you know."

"I think it's cheating," she said as she set up the shot, back extended over the table to put the cue in reach of the balls. "For one thing, if I'd thought you were going to give me more than a couple shots, I'd have offered a forfeit." The cue slid forward and the balls thunked together with a satisfying sort of sound before hers dropped into the pocket.

Scott coughed, trying to convince himself that enjoying the view was not a bad thing. "Oh?" he asked, as innocently. "What kind of forfeit?"

Jean heard both the question and the thought behind it and that was far more interesting than taking a shot at the eight ball. She turned to lean against the pool table, eyes sparkling. "I can think of a number of interesting possibilities..."

Scott coughed again. Telepaths. "Why, Doctor Grey, I do believe you're flirting with me..."

"Dreadfully shocking of me, I know. I'm sure your image of me will never be the same." Not pushing things, here, she reminded herself. Taking things as they come... "Hmmm... I sink the eight ball, I get a kiss," she offered, for once making no effort at all to shut out the mental noise so she would know if she'd gone too far. Or not far enough...

Scott opened his mouth, and what came out of it was not at all what he was expecting. "Deal. Um." He stopped, blinking at her, then turned his attention to the pool table.

Oh hell, now there was pressure. Jean turned back to the table as well, eyeing the line up between the balls. When she'd looked away the shot had not looked nearly this difficult. She knew what the shot would be, but now...

Right, focus, Jeanie-girl. This is not the end of the world, this is not your last chance ever. This is a pool table, and just one little kiss. Right, like she believed that. Jean ran her mind over the calming pattern Nathan had taught her, firming her focus as she set up for the shot. The cue moved smothly forward and the cueball rolled on the path she'd seen in her mind to strike the eight ball, and surely the world had not actuallly just shifted into slow-motion, but the eight ball moved on, bouncing off the side of the table to strike just to the left of the corner pocket and it wasn't going to go in it wasn't... The ball dropped down into the pocket with a quite 'thunk' and Jean started breathing again as the world sped up.

She'd made the shot. Of course she'd made the shot. Scott stared at the pool table for a moment, then looked back at her, a tiny, hesitant smile playing on his lips. "I didn't realize that it was that much incentive. Nice, uh, shot." He set his cue aside, and moved over to stand beside her at the table. His hand was just a little unsteady as he raised it, brushing the stray lock of red hair back from her face. Just a little. Right.

"Definitely incentive," she said softly, biting at the inside of her lip. But, he was smiling. It was a small little smile, but it was there and breathing was still a good idea she reminded herself as his fingers brushed over her cheek. Jean stepped closer, bringing her own hand up to rest just over his heart as her thumb trace his collar bone through his shirt.

Don't think, Scott told him, and leaning in, kissed her. It was a bit hesitant - for all of two seconds. Then the familiarity caught up with him, the overwhelming sense of rightness, and any doubts he might have had were tiny voices in the back of his mind, nothing more. He couldn't even really hear them.

Jean heard Scott's admonishment to himself and decided that that was very good advice, especially as she wasn't sure she really could think at this point. She melted into him as he became more sure of himself, the rest of the world shutting off as she lost herself in here and now and him.

Air became essential, eventually. "What are we doing?" Scott murmured, troubled. He touched her cheek again, his hand shaking more noticeably. "This is too fast for both of us. If we don't... I don't want to mess things up." Not again.

Jean was actually perfectly happy to work on a theory where air was optional and Scott was essential, but part of her knew that he needed more time. She reached up to catch his hand, holding it to her cheek briefly before she nodded. "I know," she said, and pressed a kiss to his palm before she stepped back, quite sure that if she didn't put some space between them she wouldn't be able to resist taking another kiss, and another...

"Pool tables. We always did have a thing about pool tables," Scott muttered a bit distractedly, memories spinning through his mind.

"That's one way to put it," she agreed, then bit her lip and Did Not blush as one of the more infamous Pool Table Incidents came to mind. Ororo had not stopped teasing them for a week after that one.