Two for the Road
Summary: Some times, when you are with some one for so long, It's hard to remember why you were together in the first place. But it was obvious that no matter how they felt, they always had each other. JOTT
A/N: Scott and Jean have been married for around ten years now so both will be reaching early 30s. They have become accustomed to each other and need reminding of the highlights about married life and each other. – inspired by an Audrey Hepburn film!
Enjoy – Review review review!
Two for the Road
Chapter One
A Black Audi drove swiftly through the thin cobble roads of a small village some where in the south of America. The village was bright and cheery, filled with the ringing to church bells. Scott Summers clutched the black leather wheel tightly, swinging the car around the winding roads. Jean Grey-Summers sat in the passenger seat beside him, her slender figure sliding in the leather seat, obviously bothered by the speed her husband was travelling at but she said nothing. In front of them, a small church came into view, a swarm of people all smartly dressed crowded around outside the church gates waving and throwing confetti at a wedding car. Scott squeaked to a stop beside the old fashioned motor and both he and Jean stared in through the window at the newly wedded couple.
"They don't look very happy" Jean stated observing the couples stern, almost sulky looking faces.
"Why should they?" Scott questioned casting a glance at his wife before looking back though the window.
"They just got married" he said dryly before slamming the car in gear and speeding off.
Scott reared the black Audi into the back of the air ferry standing on the run way of Westchester County Airport. The blue sky stretched across the dry desert area, the warm air wavering in the heat. A small café stood to the side of the runway, its rusted paint peeling in the hot midsummer weather. The Diner was surprisingly empty, only a few seats taken up by couples talking amongst themselves. Among these couples sat a beautiful red head by the far window opposite her husband. Jean flipped through a magazine she had brought early on in the day, her eyes rolling with boredom. Scott shuffled in his seat watching as a waiter placed two drinks on the table. Jean closed her magazine and looked down at the filled glass.
"I suppose we have Maurice to thank for this" Scott said shuffling his chair closer to the table. He watched Jean as she raised a hand above her glass and slowly moved it from side to side.
"What are you doing?" he asked arching an eyebrow in confusion.
"Just trying to see where the stings are attached." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
"You're always so suspicious of Maurice, what harm did he ever do us?" Scott asked lifting his glass to his lips and taking a swig of whisky.
"He hounds us" Jean announced opening her magazine again
"He hounds us?" Scott repeated watching his wife.
"He hounds us" she confirmed looking way from her magazine for a second only to make sure he was listening. Scott raised his eyebrows in disagreement.
"Excuse me Mr Summers?"
Scott turned to face the waiter standing to the side of is chair, a telephone in hand. Scott eyed the phone suspiciously.
"Mr Maurice De'Sallis for you sir, from London" he said before resting the phone on the table.
"He hounds us" Scott murmured before lifting the received to his ear. Jean nodded knowingly. She sighed looking out through the window at the Desert beyond them. They had come away from their every day lives to spend some time together, but it always ended up another business trip. Jean Grey-Summers didn't know why she thought this weekend would be any different from any other she and Scott took. Wherever they went, Scott's work always followed them, hounded constantly by his boss or another project. Not that she wasn't happy about his success but things weren't the same. Casting a glance at her husband who was now engrossed in his conversation, she slid out of her chair and made her way to a pay telephone built in he far wall by their table.
"May I have New York please" she asked the operator who had answered almost as soon as she had picked up the phone. After asking to be transferred over to Xavier's school for gifted youngsters, she waited patiently listening to the ringing hoping to hear a certain voice. A smile broke her lips when the phone was answered.
"Rachel, sweetheart it's Mummy" she began, her toothy grin widening at the sound of her six year old daughters excitement.
"What are you doing answering the phone?" she asked playfully, turning into the phone booth as if to private her conversation from the rest of the café. She giggled into the phone as she listened to her daughter explain the events of the previous day.
"How is daddy?" she asked. Jean looked over her shoulder at Scott who looked rather frustrated at who ever was on the other line.
"Daddy's fine baby, he misses you" she said cheerfully not caring about her husband's apparent annoyance.
"Are you taking care of Logan? And Aunty Ro?"
"Yes Mum – when are you coming home?"
Jean's smile faded at the question. She wanted to go home.
"Soon darling, very soon. Daddy has got some work to do in London but we will be straight back once he's finished."
"You be good Mummy" the little girl said in her most grown up voice.
"Of course I will" Jean responded listening as her daughter as she continued pouring rules down the phone.
"Of course I won't" she humoured.
"Can I speak to Daddy?" Rachel asked, her voice hopefully. Jean sighed looking back to see if Scott had finished his phone call. He had. He looked up at her and she held the phone out to him.
"Who is it now?" he asked, his brow frowning.
"Rachel"
"Rachel? Rachel who?" Scott asked assuming that it was another one of his clients.
Jean looked blankly at him.
"Rachel Summers, your daughter" she said in a flat tone, annoyance flaring up inside her at the fact that Scott had seemed to have forgotten about their daughter as well as their marriage.
"Oh Rachel" Scott said, his voice brighter as he made his way to where Jean was standing. Taking the receiver from her he pressed it against his ear.
"Hello, how's my little girl?" he asked. Jean just stared at him as he spoke down the phone, the corner of her lips curving upwards as she listened to Scott talking to Rachel. Her gaze turned back out the window to the hot desert. It was going to be a long journey south.
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"Cigarettes?"
Jean's ears twitched at the offer. Her green eyes looked around for the air stewardess who was making her way up the plane isle. Jean could feel the need to a cigarette making itself known. She lent forward waiting for the stewardess to come to their row, watching her as she offered the people behind a packet. She looked forward at the small television sitting a few rows in front of them, trying to see how much longer she had on this god damned plane.
"Cigarettes?" the stewardess asked again. Jean turned to look just in time to see Scott, who had the isle seat, absent minded shake his head, not looking up from the paper he was reading. Jean opened her mouth to speak but the stewardess was already making her way to the next row of seats. She sat back annoyed, glaring at her husband. Bringing her bag to her lap, she rustled through its contents looking to see if she had a pack, she didn't. Her gaze fell upon hers and Scott's passports, it was bad enough being forced onto a plane with no cigarettes especially seeing as the only reason they were flying to London was to have a meeting with a Maurice. She had hoped she would be on a plane home, but again Scott's work kept them away. Devilishly she looked at her husband.
"Did you remember to pick up your passport?" she asked resting her slender hands over the open bag. Scott looked at her, folding his paper before opening his suit jacket, his hands slipping into the inside pocket.
Jean watched in amusement as Scott expression changed, his eyebrows rising in panic as he switched from one pocket to the next trying to find his passport. Jean pursed her lips, looking ahead of her, trying to hide her smile.
"I'm sorry we're going to have to turn back, I've forgotten my passport" he told the stewardess after checking his trouser pockets. Jean's mouth opened in surprise as she watched her husband march down the plane isle towards the stewardess. She allowed a small giggle to escape her lips before reaching into her bag and pulling out his passport. She watched him double checking his pockets in front of the stewardess and he cast a glance back to her.
Jean held it out to him, opening it to read the information.
"Scott Summers, 34 years old, occupation architect" she said dryly holing out the small book for him to take. She watched Scott apologise to the stewardess before making his way back to his seat.
"Now how about getting me some cigarettes?" She asked hanging him his passport. Scott placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket before calling over the stewardess. He handed Jean a packet of cigarettes who took them gratefully, opening them hurriedly.
"Those are bad for you" Scott mumbled to her, opening up his paper again. Jean stopped her search for a lighter and looked at him, her unlit cigarette held between her lips.
"Do you want one?" she asked knowing he didn't. Scott shook his head not taking his eyes away from his paper. Jean stared at him for a few moments before retuning to her bag. Pulling out her lighter she lit her cigarette and took a long drag, unable to hide the relief in her breath as she blew out. Scott shifted uncomfortably in the leather seat, bringing the paper closer to his face as if trying to shield his nose from the smoke. Jean bit her bottom lip, lowering her cigarette to her knees in an attempt to keep the smoke away from him. She looked out of the small oval shaped window onto to the horizon. The sun was just setting, casting an orange glow in the sky. It was a sight that always made Jean's mood soften. Sadly she looked over to Scott who had been on the same page of the paper for the better part of half an hour. She knew that he had probably read the whole thing by now but didn't want to look open for conversation.
"You haven't been happy since the day we met have you?" she asked quietly taking another drag of her cigarette. Scott turned to look at her, his expression soft as he watched her blow out excess smoke but he didn't say anything.
"If only you were ten years younger and you knew what you know now" she said, her eyes following the ripples in the sea far below them. She was not sure if she was directing her sentences to Scott or just talking to herself.
"You can say that again" he replied almost coldly. Jean sighed sadly turning to look at him, searching for his eyes behind his ruby glasses. She wondered when they became so unhappy. Of course she loved him but things had changed. She hadn't even considered leaving, she couldn't bare the thought of a life without him but something had either died or awoken with in each of them, opening their eyes to something.
"Remember when we first met?" she asked looking away from him again. Scott raised an eyebrow confused.
"We were both naive little eleven year olds playing pranks on Logan and running through Ro's cabbage patch".
Scott laughed slipping the paper into the pocket in the seat in front of him. He rested back and studied his wife. Her thick red hair was neatly chopped a few inches below her shoulders; her slim figure was slightly hunched in her chair. She wasn't looking at him, her green eyes staring some where out the window.
"Do you remember the first time you met me? The first thing we said to each other?" she asked only half expecting an answer. Scott thought for a moment, trying to place each memory in date order in his mind. They had known each other for the better part of 20 years. He could vaguely remember when they were kids, driving Logan and Ororo up the walls, misguided and afraid. Scott ladled his first few years at the mansion the darker times of his life. Jean took his silence as a no.
"I was being nosey and crept into your room. The door was open so I poked my head in. You was sitting alone on your bed, a bandage wrapped around your eyes."
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An eleven year old Jean Grey grasped the white painted door frame with her small hand. Her free hand tightly grasped around an ice lolly. She stared at the skinny boy for several moments, watching him as he sat on the edge of the bed, his clothes torn and dirty, his knees grazes and bruised. Looking down the ends of each corridor, she walked in being as quiet as she could. She was barely in the room when the boys head snapped in her direction. Jean froze, the lolly pop in her mouth, she held her breath.
"Who's there?" his small voice was afraid. Jean swallowed, taking the ice lolly away she took a step closer.
"My name's Jean. Who are you?" she said bluntly walking close to him until her face was only inches away. "Why are you wearing that?" she asked, her eyes scanning over the dirty cloth covering his eyes. He didn't answer. Jean watched closely. His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air around him.
"What are you eating?" he asked, his mouth watering. Jean cast her gaze to her melting ice lolly.
"An ice lolly. You want some?" she asked raising the frozen sweet to his lips before waiting for an answer. Scott could smell the sugary scent close to him and he opened his mouth allowing Jean to hand him the lolly. She pushed her sticky first against his hand and he took the stick. Jean sat down in front of him, folding her legs underneath her.
"My name's Scott" he said in between licks of the lolly. Jean smiled, her chin resting in her hands.
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Eleven"
"Me too. I'm eleven and a half" she boasted not knowing that the skinny malnourished boy was in fact older then her. Scott offered her a shrug before offering the lolly back.
"You can have it" she said wiping her sticky hand on the leg of her dungarees. Scott smiled gratefully.
"Why do you have a bandage over your eyes?" she asked quietly.
"So I don't open them" his voice had lowered. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell this girl about his curse. Would she understand? She didn't sound much older then him. She would probably run in fear, call him names and hit him as others had done when he roamed the streets.
"Why don't you want to open your eyes?" she asked. Scott remained silent.
"Jeanie?" A ruff voice sounded at the end of the corridor. Jean gasped, swinging her head over her shoulder to look at the open door. With out a word she was on her feet and on impulse dived under the bed. Scott wobbled from where he sat, hearing the girl shuffle underneath him. The sound of heavy footsteps came close until they stopped at what Scott guessed to be the doorway. He sat in silence, occasionally raising the ice lolly to his lips.
Logan leant against the door way, his eyes scanning the room. His grey eyes fell against a tint of red underneath Scott's bed and he sighed.
"Alright Jeanie, come out" the room stood in silence, Scott swung his skinny legs in the air over the side of his bed.
"Come on Red, I can see yer under there. lets give Scott some time to settle in".
From underneath the bed, Jean bit her lower lip before shuffling on her belly out from under the bed. She stood on her feet, staring down at her grass stained trainers, the laces had come undone from their bows. With huge eyes she looked up at Logan who smiled despite himself. He nodded his head as a gesture for her to leave the room and she obliged. Saying goodbye to Scott she ran past Logan and down the corridor.
Scott lay huddled underneath the duvet. Despite the warm weather, he was shivering. Pulling the thick quilt tighter around his frail body, he brought his knees into his chest. He was alone and couldn't help the small wave of fear wash over him. His mouth was dry but he dare not move.
Jean quietly trotted down the dark hallway, her over size pyjama bottoms covering her feet and scraping along the carpet. She chewed her thumb tail nervously, her wild red hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. She hated needing the bathroom in the middle of the night, the hallways were also so scary in the dark. Despite herself, her ears were straining, ready to pick up the slightest bump or creak. She came to Scott's room, the large wooded door shut. She slowed her pace when passing his room and for a moment thought about going in. She had been alone in the mansion for a long time. She was ready to make some friends. Just as she was about to pass his closed door, a small whimper caused her ears to twitch. She paused, holding her breath, listening again. The silence was deafening. She looked nervously around her, her throat suddenly dry. Shaking her head, she started to walk again, her need to get back into bed was more then ever. Suddenly the whimper sounded again. Jean bit her lip as she edged towards the bedroom door. She pressed an ear against the dark wood and listened closely. It sounded like the new boy was crying. Cautiously, Jean gripped the cold door handle with she small fist and quietly let herself in.
The room was dark, a small ray of moon light seeping in through a gap in the thick curtains. Her eyes wondered over to the single bed up against the far wall, the duvet covers rumpled and piled at the top of the bed. She could hear Scott's muffled whimpers, his body hidden underneath the quilt. She swallowed quietly tiptoeing towards the bed frame. Scott's cried got louder as she got nearer and before she could stop herself, her hand was on the material of the duvet, feeling around for the end of it. Her tiny fingers caught the corner of the quilt and she threw it backwards, revealing Scott's curled body against the wall. He gasped, with the bandage over his eyes he began to panic. Despite the fact that he couldn't see, he was facing her.
"Are you ok?" she asked in a hushed whisper. Scott's uneven breathes stopped instantly at the sound of her voice.
"Jean?" he squeaked sitting up. Jean climbed onto the bed and sat beside him, her face close to his as she studied him. The bandage had been changed, a clean white one replaced the dirty rag which had been tied around his head before. He was wearing a set of pyjamas similar to hers and the dirty which had stained his skin before had been washed off.
"Yeah its me" she whispered. She crawled to the end of the bed and straightened out the covers. Sitting back beside him, she pulled the covered up onto their laps and lent against the head board.
"Why were you crying?" she asked, her eyes on her hands as she fiddled with her fingers. Scott shrugged, his chin to his chest. Jean sighed.
"When ever I'm sad, Ororo always tells me to think of something that makes me happy." Jean mumbled. Scott shrugged again, the palm of his hand stroking the material of the quilt cover.
"What if I can't think of anything that makes me happy?" he asked, his bottom lip trembling.
"There has to be something that makes you happy" Jean said matter of factly. Scott shook his head, leaning against the head board beside Jean.
"Your friends?" she asked looking around the empty room. She couldn't help but notice that Scott had nothing with him.
"I… I don't have any friends."
Jean's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in surprise. For a moment she couldn't believe him but then she remembered that apart from the people here she didn't have any friends either. "You're my friend" she said grabbing his hand with hers and giving it a squeeze. Scott frowned confused for a moment. How could this girl be so nice, so willing to accept him when she knew nothing about him? For a moment he wanted to pull his hand away but he didn't, instead he squeezed her hand back, a small smile breaking on his lips.
The two sat together for the better part of the night, talking and revealing small pieces of their past to each other. Later when Scott lay alone in his bed, when the dark shadows of his past threatened to take him, he thought of Jean. He pictured her voice in his mind and what he must look like. He imagined her as beautiful as an angel – his new best friend and for the first time months, Scott had a peaceful sleep.
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A/N: Review please? Don't worry this fic isn't going to be about the crashing of Scott and Jean's marriage, I don't think I could bring myself to do something like that JOTT forever!