AN: Standard disclaimers apply.
0~~~~~~~~~~~~~0 I'm Glad You Stayed 0~~~~~~~~~~~~~0
The start of a new year always brought change to the students at Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Last year, Xavier himself had permitted a short vacation to New York City for a few days of shopping, sight-seeing, and merry-making. The year before, Logan had somehow been suckered into taking everyone skiing in the mountains, where it was revealed he wasn't a total stiff and actually possessed a sense of humor. Then again, seeing Sam Guthrie's booted feet sticking out of the snow after he'd been attempting to show off for his friends had been the best moment of the trip.
This year however, things would be different. No trips to the mountains or the mall. Of the few students spending the holidays at the Institute, none had been outdoors in three days. Outside the mansion a raging blizzard had dumped no less than ten feet of snow across the grounds. But no one seemed to mind. In fact, if you overlooked a little cabin fever, the teenagers who remained couldn't have been happier about the situation. And to think – it had all started with an innocent little snowball fight.
Ororo Munroe, originally from Africa, had never appreciated a good snowball fight but when her nephew Evan had taunted her from out on the grounds, occasionally lobbing an icy sphere at her window, she finally got caught up in the spirit of the season. Facing off against Kurt, Bobby, and Evan proved slightly more difficult than one might think. It didn't take a telepath to know that a snowball fight with a weather witch could only go one way. In retaliation, Bobby let his entire form turn to ice and sent a wave of his power at the woman. As Ororo had been hovering in the air just over the giant stone fountain, the blast caught her off-guard and sent her headlong into the structure. One resounding crack and plenty of guilt trips later, and the Institute's only female professor was sporting a broken nose and shivering from the cold.
That night, the storm had started. Xavier had said Ororo wasn't feeling well and that the students should leave her alone. As the white drifts began to pile up outside, it became quite clear that no one would be coming or going until Ororo was feeling better. Bobby endured angry glares from his fellow x-men for the entirety of dinner and slipped off to bed early to avoid further accusations.
But that had been three days ago. No one minded being holed up too much anymore, Xavier had taken great pains to keep them occupied by uncovering numerous board games and several home movies Evan had made over the years. Just now, the snow was beginning to let up outside and the stars were beginning to twinkle from behind the fading storm.
Taking advantage of the quiet evening, Jean Gray was lounging in the library, reading a book. Across the room a fire flickered merrily in the fireplace, radiating heat and comfort. Jean gave a sigh and rolled over on her back, setting her book on her stomach and staring at the ceiling. Her cheeks flushed with color as she thought over the story. She was so absorbed in heroic deeds and Prince Charming that she didn't hear the door open or hesitant footsteps on the hardwood floors.
"Jean?" It was Scott.
"Hmm?" Jean raised her body, perched up on her elbows.
"It's past one. You don't usually stay up this late." Moving around to the front of the sofa he knelt beside her, looking at her with concern from behind his sunglasses.
"Oh, I just wanted to get this last chapter in." Jean held up her book for his inspection. Yawning, she hadn't realized it was getting so late. "Speaking of bedtimes, what are you doing up?" She curled up her long legs, offering him a seat.
"Talking with the Professor." Scott moved to the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees. "He thinks Ororo's doing much better now. We can probably go out tomorrow."
"That's not why you're up." Jean smiled knowingly. Being a telepath had its advantages.
"Maybe not but it's a good excuse." Scott gave her a playful grin.
"Scott …. You're sweet to wait up for me but I'm a big girl, I can handle my – hey!" Jean protested as Scott took her book and flipped through the pages.
"And Devon lifted in his stirrups to reach for the lady's hand. Leaning across the balcony wall, Lady Alyssa felt her heart skip a beat as the handsome knight pressed his lips to her knuckles in a tender kiss…" Scott raised a brow and Jean snatched her book back from him, scowling and red with embarrassment.
"That's private!" She told him coldly.
"Read it to me." Scott replied as though she hadn't spoken. Moving to her side of the sofa, he lifted her slender form easily and slid in behind her. Pulling on her shoulders, he laid her back against his chest. Jean paused, not entirely sure about what to do. Sensing no ill intentions, she turned to where she'd stopped earlier and continued, not aloud but in her mind. Thankful for her mutant powers, Jean narrated the tale of Devon and Alyssa long into the hours of the night.
Had she not been talking in his head, Scott was almost sure he would have fallen asleep. Even when she began to drowse off, he could not bring himself to leave her comforting warmth for the lonely chill of his bed. Content to watch her as she slept, he felt his emotions stirring somewhere deep inside. He liked the way her hair shimmered in the dying firelight, the soft rise and fall of her chest, even the flannel pajama pants that clung to a trim form. Swallowing hard, he knew he should leave and leave now. In a world of telepaths, teleporters, and heightened senses, he knew they were in danger of discovery. True, they'd done nothing wrong but rumors and reputations grew like weeds among the kids at the Institute.
Decided, Scott very slowly lifted Jean's sleeping body off his lap and tossed his legs over the sofa's edge. Heading for the door, he paused at a little whimper from the direction of the couch. He swiveled his head to see Jean sitting up, watching his departure with a sad look in those emerald eyes.
"You could stay." She offered, her red hair slightly tousled.
"I shouldn't." He replied, even as everything inside screamed to go back and join her.
"But you could." She smiled lightly.
He was about to leave when he saw it; a thick fleece blanket piled up. It was a soft purple, much like her favorite shirt. Smiling at himself, Scott leaned to grab the fuzzy wrap. He drug it back to the couch and snuggled down happily next to the very content redhead.
"I'm glad you decided to stay." Jean sighed happily, folding up her arms against his chest.
"Me too." He whispered huskily, taking in the scent of her hair. "Me too."
0~~~~~~~~~~~~~0
AN: Thanks again to Silindro who beta'd this one for me.
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