Apocalypse Please
"What's a girl like you doin' in a place like this?"
"The kitchen, Logan? Mmm, don't know," Jean smiled.
He kissed her shoulder, "Gumbo took the kids to the Danger Room."
"Which is why I'm in here making something for myself."
"Selfish," he teased.
"Excuse me? When was the last time you ever made food for teenagers," she smirked.
"Wasn't a last time, 'cause there wasn't a first."
"That's right," she lifted her head haughtily.
"I don't do that parentin' thing, darlin'."
"I know," Jean kept her smile in check as he turned her around to face him.
"I do other stuff to make up for it."
"Like what," she tilted her head to the side.
"Like...fightin," he smiled, slipping his hands around her hips.
"Yes…and," she pressed.
"Takin' you upstairs and havin' my way with ya," his voice was warm and rough.
"Logan," Jean laughed, squirming as he lifted her onto the counter.
"They're in the Danger Room, Jean."
"And ten minutes after we get started we'll be interrupted because your little warriors will want to tell you ALL about how they kicked ass," she smiled.
"Damnit Jean…" he dropped his head on her shoulder.
"Logan…make it fast-" Jean slipped off the counter, grinning as he kissed her hard.
The phone rang, making her groan with disappointment.
"Ignore it," he muttered, kissing her throat.
"I can't, just give me five seconds."
"I'm countin'."
"Hello, Xavier's. Scott?"
Logan
grunted with frustration, Scott was known to be chatty, especially
after a mission.
The phone dropped from Jean's ear, looking to
Logan helplessly.
"What is it," he asked.
"Charles is
dead."
"There's no way, you'd know it, let me have the
phone-"
"Scott is bringing his body home."
"Talk to
me..." Logan
demanded.
--
Jean
traced the outline of her gold monogrammed stationary, sitting at the
large oak desk as the late afternoon sun warmed her back through the
large picture window.
"Hello."
"Logan."
"Jean,"
he felt his jaw clench at speaking her name.
"I-" she began, a
knot in her throat.
"You remembered the number."
"Yes, I
wanted-" she traced the 'J' on the stationary again, followed
by the 'X'…
"Have you called to admit you were wrong?"
She
winced at his tone, "No, but I have news."
"Not
interested."
He hung up.
"Logan,
you bastard…" she muttered, dialing again.
Logan ignored the
insistent ring of the phone for the next ten minutes, busying himself
around his cabin before walking outside. The woman wouldn't give
up. Uttering an angry grunt, he stalked inside, snatching up the
receiver.
"What!"
"Listen, Kitty is getting
married in a few weeks. I thought you might like to know," Jean
snapped, hanging up the phone.