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Making up for lost time; Jean and Scott ( closed)
Topic Started: Oct 13 2010, 09:38 AM (147 Views)
Jean
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
June 7 th, on returning from WWX conclusion

Jean and Scott JP





By the time they returned home, it was night, past dinner, and Scott felt exhausted, almost jet lagged. Time in the other world had seemed to be close to time here at home, but there was a shift, especially when their time in the Void was factored in. His own body felt awkward to him, for the moment, wanting to favor his leg, feeling slightly too heavy after months of his counterpart's less muscular physicality, his hair too short though he knew it was really longer than he normal favored. All in all, everything just felt so completely wrong...

...until he looked at the woman in front of him and he knew it was all really so very right.

Standing in their room, after excusing themselves from the well wishers, Scott looked around as if he expected things to be out of place, and he was surprised that everything was as he left it... except for the door to Rosie's old room was open and her bed was unmade. A smirk crossed his lips and he said, "You made him sleep in there?"

“Sleep is probably an overstatement, honey,” she said, returning his smirk, “I think your legs hang over the edge. I think a little discomfort was good for him though. But,” she shrugged her shoulders sheepishly, “there were concessions on both parts. Look in your closet.” The realization was still sinking in, and with it a sense of relief, Ruby was gone and Scott was back, and she could start to look at Ruby with more with more of a rosy tint to the memories.

Scott looked at her with a stern look that was entirely feigned, "Did you..." he opened the closet and then closed it again, "I am going to feel pretty silly in those silk suits, Babe," he said, "I'm not the fancy boy Ruby is. Any other changes I should be aware of? Satin pajamas and midnight drinks to put me to sleep?" He reached out and stroked her long hair, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I tried to get back to you, and you're all I thought of the whole time I was gone. You must have thought I'd gone crazy. You must've thought... hell, I don't know what you must've thought, but it was probably so bad to see me like that." He wanted to tell her of the Jean of that world, how hard it had been to see her so full of anger, to look at her eyes and only see hatred for him, but he didn't think it would be good for her, he didn't think she needed to deal with all that.

She sat on the edge of the bed as Scott opened his wardrobe. “What can I say, darling, I had to make trades… new clothes in exchange for him not scaring the children or teaching them how to crack safes… and… well, keeping some of his racier exploits to himself.” She got to her feet and slipped her arms around his waist, “I was sure you’d take one for the team… in the wardrobe. Dearest, I was thinking of the children,” she said, a boldfaced lie; she’d been using to update his clothes away from black and gray and black for years, but to Scott, the drab threads were like old friends.

Her eyes strayed down as he talked about what they must’ve thought before they realized Ruby was another person, she couldn’t look him in the face and remember that first month. Her fingers fidgeted with his collar and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles over his chest. “We thought… I thought, it was the Brotherhood, that maybe they’d suppressed your memories as a way to recruit you, that you were still in there… somewhere, if only I could find them. After the first few days, I should’ve known that if you were still in there, you’d have found a way back to me. It was wishful thinking on my part,” she chuckled lightly… nervously. “You know me, when my emotions get involved, my brain doesn’t always work right.” She let out a breath, “I think Anne Lee and maybe a few of the others thought my mind had been swapped with some demented counterpart or that I was relapsing back to Shadow X.” She looked up into Scott’s face, “Or maybe just that Jean Grey turns into a real bitch when Scotty Summers isn’t around.”

He sank down to the bed beside her, as she explained what had happened, and her nervous fidgetting was so very much unlike her. He caught her hands in his, and brought her fingers to his lips, "I like that the thought of me in danger makes you go a little crazy," he admitted, "Makes me know that at least once person hasn't given up, will never give up. Knowing that, I can find the strength to keep fighting to get back to you. I was trapped in a Shield oubliette, being tortured and told I wasn't who I thought I was, and still, I knew you'd be looking for me, to get me back," Scott released her hands and slipped his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to him, "And, if my absence makes you bitchy, well, I guess I am just going to have to stick around a while this time." He brought his lips to hers. "As long as you don't make me wear those monkey suits."

His lips brushed hers in a tantalizing kiss. Jean leaned into him and chuckled softly, deep in her throat. She trailed kisses up the square angle of his jaw and whispered into his ear. “Your husband-skills need a little polishing; you were supposed to say ‘I can’t believe that, honey, you’re never a bitch’.” Her arms slid around his neck and suddenly she was sitting on his lap. “Makes me wonder what else needs polishing... no monkey suits involved.”

Scott smiled, leaning into her kisses, and he whispered, "Why, Jean Eleanor Grey-Summers, that's awfully bawdy talk," he said, "What kind of company have you been keeping," She was suddenly in his lap, and from that position, it was not hard to lower her back to the bed, Scott planting his hands on either side of her shoulders, so that she was pinned in place, "You're never a bitch, Jeannie, you're strong willed, and beautiful, and powerful, and beautiful, and God, I missed you so much," He brought his face down to kiss her, and it was not such a light brush this time. He poured all of his longing into this kiss, and his voice became a little husky as he said, "Your counterpart didn't like me much, and Ruby's girls liked me too much. You're the only one who likes me just the right amount."

“Mmmm,” she returned the pleasure of his kiss, matching his passion, not too demure and not too ravenous; she had nothing to prove. “I hope so, since you’re stuck with me forever,” she said when she could speak again, it was all she needed to say; knowing he share what he wanted to share and anything he knew she would want to know. Jean thought that Ruby had a skewed sense of honor, but Scott’s was straight as an arrow and as unbending and unbreakable as adamantium.

Their love was the passion of two people insolubly mended together into a whole, with finally, after four long months, the empty places in their souls filled by the other. Their minds and bodies merged together in fiery power until finally, there was calm.

There was a certain contingent of the school who imagined that Scott's particular style of love making was as regimented as the rest of his life. Missionary position, on Tuesdays at 10 pm sharp, then a chaste churchly peck on the cheek and off to dream about math problems or something. They could not be more wrong. He was a passionate man, who kept those churning emotions tightly bottled inside, so when they were given free rein, his blood ran hot. Jean was his catalyst. Insult to her made him rage, danger made him dangerous, and her love made him an unsurpassed lover, or so he liked to think. She never complained and she seemed to like his technique, so Scott had perfected it, because he liked to be pinpoint accurate. It had been a long time away, he had been lost, nearly broken, and their time tonight was to cement in place once again, that this was perfection right here.

When they were done, and they had slid into their customary positions on the bed, side by side, facing each other, legs still entangled, Scott pushed her long red hair out of her face, and he said, "I guess I'm not particularly saintly, after all."

Jean chuckled lightly, her eyes glistening as her heart rate slowed down. “That depends on your idea of Heaven, doesn’t it?” she teased. The fingers of her hand spread over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin sink into her fingers. It was shock, still – that he was home and she wasn’t dreaming. For the next few weeks she knew she would find herself checking up on him, just to be sure that everything was okay… still fine.

“Do you remember the first time we were together? We had pancakes afterward. Food and sex, two great things.”

Scott laughed, "You and me, those are the things that are great together. Pancakes have their time and place, just like sex does, but with the wrong person, they're sort of the same, cold and stale." He watched her face for a moment, "God, I missed you," he said, "I can't help but say it, Jeannie. Over there... that life was so joyless, hopeless... empty. It was just survival. Whatever rich life Ruby had, I didn't see any of it. It was already gone when I got there, and all that was left was... well, nothing. No matter what happens here, as long as you love me... I have everything, absolutely everything."

Jean leaned in and hugged him to her. She felt the pain and anxiety in him as he spoke; it would scar them both for a long time to come and even now, the wounds were still fresh. “I know, hon, I felt it too. Ruby had things, that’s all. For a long time, at least until the very end, I don’t think he knew how empty, truly empty his life was until he was forced to see it through other eyes, yours.” She brushed her fingers through his tousled hair, idly combing the wild strands into place. “I know you’re better than that. I know you. I love you.”

"Am I better though?" Scott asked, quietly, closing his eyes as she brushed his hair into order, "Ruby wasn't some brainwashed version of me, some twist of chemicals or mental manipulation... he was me without the direction Xavier's dream gave me..." He tilted his head forward so that it leaned against hers and said, "Babe, what if I'm only better because the Professor interfered and took me in? What if that's what I was supposed to be? What if that's what I am, and all this upright, and uptight boy scout rigor is just the product of my stubbornness and need to please the man who changed everything?" He opened his eyes and said, "Jeannie, what if I'm not a good man at heart? What if that selfish, self loathing, miserable violence has simply been channeled into drive and direction?" He sighed, "Maybe it's why I have so many questions."

“It’s nature vs. nurture, darling,” her voice low and soothing. “A cascade of events, some random and some choices that makes us who we are at this very moment. It isn’t easy having your faith in yourself shaken,” for a moment the memory of what she had done to Longshot flashed through her mind, the memory of the time she stepped across the line, blurred slightly by the fact that Longshot didn’t seem to hold a grudge, that he even seemed grateful, but that didn’t excuse her. “But time and again you’ve come face to face with choices and always made the right ones, even when it would’ve been easier to give in. Does ‘why’… does ‘what might have been’ really make such a difference? It’s who you are now that matters.”

"You always know the exact thing to say to me," he murmured, kissing her neck, moving his way south, "You know me so well, better than I know myself sometimes." Scott looked up at her and said, "If that had been me, if something had happened to my mind and that was the only me left... could you have stayed in love with me? Could you have stayed in love with me long enough to help me learn how to be the man I used to be again?"

Jean moaned softly at the feel of Scott’s lips. “I would never give up on you. I would try to love you regardless if you loved me back … or even knew your own name. And would you have made your way back to that she-devil in a SHIELD uniform?” she asked, her eyebrow cocked inquisitively.

Her moan was one of the sounds that he had missed the most, that slight sigh that told him she was as much his as he was hers, and Scott, even during this serious turn in the conversation, continued doing what he was doing to make her make that pleasant sound. "Marvel had as horrible a taste in men as Ruby did in women. I think a better me could have melted her icy interior," He smiled up at her, mischievously, and said, arrogantly, "I know how to find your tender spots pretty good, after all."

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