Not my 1st fanfic, but my 1st X-men fanfic. Plans on getting more exciting as more ch. are added. But that depends on the readers. So please R&R.

Thanks

Enjoy :)

Jean tossed and turned upon the mattress. First, the pillow fell between the bed and the headboard, then she was uncovered and the blanket slid off the bed; but she was oblivious to all of this. She groaned, and turned, then tossed again, then spun back to the other side of the bed. A word escaped her lips.

"Gavin…"

Jean was dreaming, that she knew. But as to the nature of the dream, she had long left from trying to figure that one out. This dream world consisted of no concretes, as did all dreams; but this one was different. I was so vivid, yet so uncertain. At one moment, one could be so sure, then at another, so confused. Colors. Colors swirled about her like living, flying serpents.

She was suddenly in a village…no…on a mountain. Now the mountain was a valley. She walked slowly through the valley pass, and found herself stopping abruptly on the edge of an abyss. But beyond the abyss…was that a boy that she saw? A boy sitting with his legs crossed, clothed only in a brown grass skirt. No, he wasn't a boy, he was a teen! Wait, now a man! A very young man; a very young and very…very handsome man. Jean couldn't help but have a liking for him. So handsome, so built, so, so…perfect!

"Who are you?" whispered Jean. To her surprise, the man answered her. Had he heard her all the way from the other side of the gulf?

"Gavin," he said.

Gavin Jean thought on the name, or had she said it? She wanted to get to him so badly. She was drawn to him. Why? She had no idea. Maybe because he was the kind of guy that every girl wanted. Tall, handsome, and with a slight tan; like a god out of Greek mythology. And even though she'd never met him, she seemed to know everything about him; or about his character that is. She seemed to know that he was a kind and gentle person with a genuine…what as this…love? For whom? For her?

The man answered her thoughts, "For you."

Those words seem to sweep Jean off her feet, literally. Before she knew what was happening, she was falling into the abyss. She screamed to the top of her lungs.

But suddenly, a strong hand caught her by the arm and pulled her up, quite easily, from the abyss. A great comfort fell over her like the warm rays of the sun as two great arms wrapped around Jean and pulled her close. She looked up into the face of her savior, the man in the grass skirt.

"Gavin," he whispered.

Gavin Jean thought on the name, or did she say it? She was having a hard time distinguishing between thought and word; but being a telepath, she often replaced thought for word.

This man, who called himself Gavin, drew her closer unto himself, so that only inches spanned the gap between their faces. He was much taller than Jean, and had to look down in order for them to see eye to eye.

Those eyes; those beautiful green eyes; like great shimmering emeralds in his tan face. Jean reached up with her hand, and stroked his cheek with her middle finger. Gavin's hands moved from her back upwards until they cupped her face. Such big hands; such beautiful hands. He stroked her forehead lightly with his thumb, pushing aside an strand of red hair.

Closer their faces came, and Jean felt her head tilting to the side. Closer he came, and his eyes begin to close. Closer she came, and her own eyes begin to dim. Closer he came, and Jean could feel his hot breath. Closer she came, and…

"Jean! Jean!"

Jean's eyes snapped opened.