Disclaimer If I owned them I would have the pleasure of being with them. I would not be writing stories about them on fanfiction

Author's Note This story takes place after X2, after the Phoenix saga deal. So she's back to normal now and she's living! :) If you read the story that I wrote a while back called "Reflections: The Uprising" you could consider this story to take place after that one. Oh and I will not write more if you do not review. SO REVIEW!!! Please!!! I breathe off of reviews and I'll die if you don't do so. I appreciate all readers and am very grateful for reviews. Thanks to my sister and everyone in my life who support me. Thank you so much. Hey, if you like this story than I suggest that you should read Pinkchick's stories. They're really enjoyable and will give you great satisfaction. Well, read, review, and ENJOY!

Infatuation

Chapter One

"Soon"

"Scott?"

"Jean, it was just a dream."

"I can't even feel it Scott. I can't."

"Jean……"

"Tell me Scott."

"Tell you about what? It's nothing."

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The woman ran the round brush through her long, thick blond hair as she kept a grip on the handle with her pale fingers and perfectly French manicured fingernails. She looked at her reflection and smiled, which caused her honey brown eyes to squint but never blink. She applied her bright red lipstick on her full lips as the finishing touches to her black eyeliner and golden jewelry that shone upon her soft skin. She drew her head back slightly to take a moment to admire her flawless reflection. She kissed the mirror to leave a red print of lips upon the middle of it.

She lifted herself from her cushioned seat gracefully as her body disappeared, evaporated into the perfume scented air of the room that was shadowed by the sun. Not a trace of color appeared in the atmosphere of the room. Her body vanished like invisible ink only to what the eyes can see.

She reappeared to be seated next to a unique painting. The painting emanated a variety of different colors. Each color seemed to be a trademark. A trademark of their mutant abilities. A trademark of their personalities. But one color centered the woman's brown eyes. She fixated them on the middle. Red seemed to be his trademark color. Red for the visor his face held ever so tightly. She inhaled deeply and firmly placed the tip of her middle and index finger upon the side of the man's visor. A painting. Merely an image. "Soon," her deep, womanly voice spoke. Her plump red lips moved, but her honey eyes were still fixated on the realistic image of this man. As if she knew these people from base to tip. The detail of the image suggests such a thing.

She looked over to the glass of water that was placed on the table of art supplies. This water was used to clear one color from a paint brush and apply another. Because each one of the seven seemed to hold a different trademark color. She placed the color of the white tips of her manicure upon the cup and brought it to center the palm of her hand. With one hand busying the two fingers upon the image of the man in the painting, the other crushed the glass cup between all five fingers. The water encircled the blood and glass upon her cold hand as the glass fell to the ground. The water shattered upon it.

Her eyes did not move from the center of the painting where the mysterious man with the visor lay. She did not cry with pain. The blood stained the unique painting. The blood stained adamantium claws. Red stained white hair and blue skin. Dried blood was painted across bright blue eyes and white strips. She smiled with satisfaction as she rubbed the dripping wet blood with fiery red hair. She mixed it into green eyes and slashed her blood marked fingers across her face.

She looked at the center of the painting once again. She gazed at the mysterious man wearing a visor and pursed her lips. "Soon."

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He adjusted his leather jacket around his muscular arms and made it as if it was easy to have such a solemn and serious face. His dark brown hair was moosed upwards like two un-pointed horns floating above his head. His back was placed roughly against the wall next to the entrance. His erected posture had not faltered and he had not failed to eye every single person who stood outside this very important entrance. He had noticed another man, of the same job description, who had walked out with an intimidating stare on his stoned face. It resembled his expression on so many levels.

The other man wore red sunglasses and a white button up shirt. Contrary to all appearances, this man was just as intimidating as the other. Just as muscular, but a little taller, he seemed perfectly normal to everyone standing outside in the bright sunlight and clear blue sky. The definition of normal to the eyes of the beholders. Despite his firm posture and intimidating stare, he never failed to notice the blossomed flowers in the bright Springtime in Westchester, New York. A time where the local people hurried to the doctor's office for their children's allergies. And today, many of them had decided to try the free clinic that opened in a peaceful side of town, away from the hectic streets of urbanization.

He folded his arms across his muscular and well-built chest as if he were guarding something sacred. The neat and boyishly cut chestnut hair fell to the sides of his face, subtracting a point to the high level of his intimidation skills. He had not replied to his uncooperative hair as he leaned his long body against the wall opposite of the other man. He turned to him with a straight face and a familiar, knowing look.

The attention of the two men turned to the door which had suddenly opened. A woman with short red hair and a long, slender body walked out with a clipboard in her hands. She adjusted her knee-length, white lab coat against her knee-length black skirt. She looked very professional with a lab coat placed over her half-sleeved, circular collared red shirt. She looked to her right slowly. Then to her left, eyeing each one of the men with disbelief. She rolled her eyes slightly with a hint of laughter floating in them. "Scott, Logan," she said through her professional doctor speaking voice. She placed her hands on her hips with slight irritation as her voice went into a normal irritated tone, "what exactly are you two doing?" She wrapped her arms around the clipboard and held the clipboard against her upper body.

"Security," Scott said with a solemn expression as he looked straight ahead. Jean looked at him and let a little smile slip her lips. Scott did not strike anyone as the class clown type or the jokester of the family. But if they saw the expression he had on his face at the moment they would have to crack a smile. But the more she thought about it, she decided she would be the only one who smiled at something like that because no one knew him like she did.

She turned to Logan who had his usual gruff expression and remembered when Logan first came to the mansion. The mansion for gifted youngsters. A home for mutants where they all had become a giant family. Logan was a part of that family. That is what she considered him to be now, nothing more. Something had attracted her to him, despite her engagement to Scott. His charm had captured her attention like sugar and water to an insect. But when Scott had been captured during the fiasco with a anti-mutant man named Striker, Jean had felt the love she held for the man who loved her back just as much. After she believed something had happened to him, her heart almost broke into two pieces. He was a part of her and he always will be. No words could explain their emotional bond that had formed between the two. It had been an exciting experience to flirt with the dangerous Wolverine, but she knew her heart, mind, body, and soul belonged to the great Cyclops.

With that in mind, she looked to Scott and Logan with a knowing expression and headed down the small flight of wooden steps with her hand on the short rail. She removed the sign that read 'construction' and welcomed all the people waiting outside to come in. The clinic was making it's big debut today. The idea was built by all the members of the X-men when Jean decided she wanted to practice her medicine more to anyone in need of help. No charge needed. On one condition, there would be no information distributed that the people of the community were being treated by mutants. Despite the feeling of wanting to let people know mutants were harmless.

Jean shrugged it off for now and led everyone inside. She looked towards Logan and Scott. She did not entirely trust them to be her security guards. They might scare some of her patients off. But she just sighed, closed the door behind her, and told Scott and Logan to let any visitors who come, in. Logan and Scott just nodded knowingly and stood in the same position they were in.

A few hours passed and Scott and Logan continued to monitor the front entrance. Scott had went in to help Jean a couple of times, but he had been standing out here for the most part. Watching one patient after another enter the clinic. Scott figured so many people would have come merely because of the word 'free'. He watched one particular patient walk up the stairs and reach for the doorknob. Logan seemed bored and had the urge to stop this man to investigate what was in the briefcase that he carried. "We are going to have to search your briefcase," Logan said gruffly as the man looked at them and backed away slightly. He immediately handed them his briefcase as he watched Logan sniffing it. But before they finished the search of the briefcase, Logan helped a woman with crop cut hair and a five year old child through by opening the door for her.

"Why didn't you stop to search her?" the man with the briefcase asked, then just shook his head when Scott handed him his briefcase and allowed him to enter.

Logan looked to Scott and unsheathed his claws. "What's wrong?" Scott asked with concern as Logan dug into his pockets with his claws. The sound of a slice sounded as Logan took half of the now sliced bagel and gave it to Scott. "Thanks."

Logan sniffed the bagel and then dug in. "The man has good taste," Logan said as Scott shook his head and dropped the bagel, that he had already bitten into, on the ground.

"Logan," Scott said, irritated.

"What is it Scooter? Doesn't fulfill your taste buds?" Logan asked with a smirk as he swallowed with satisfaction.

"No," Scott said as he rolled his non-visible eyes behind his red shades. "Don't steal other people's snacks."

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"I think it went pretty well today," Jean said with enthusiasm dripping in her voice. Jean loved the way Scott's ears were always open to her words. He really appreciated her and she loved the way he knew how to keep her entranced in his pursuit. His face was strong yet tender. She anticipated every moment he held her in his arms so strongly, as if he could protect her from anything in this world. Their bond did not allow words to describe feelings. For words such as those did not exist.

Scott heard her echoing voice from the bathroom as he smiled at his reflection in the mirror. He loved to hear Jean happy and content. He never wanted to loose her, especially after he felt like he almost did in the time period where she had become phoenix. But he could say everything was going fine now. He peeked his head out from behind the concrete column of the bathroom door. He dried his wet face and ran the towel over his closed eyes. He reached for his visor and made sure it was securely fastened upon his face. If he ever tried to hurt Jean in any way, especially with his deadly laser shooting eyes, he would never forgive himself.

He watched intently as she ran her brush so gracefully over her smooth and silky red hair. She looked like an angel as he watched her brush her hair so calmly and contently. Jean stood up from her chair and looked at Scott's reflection from behind. He approached her slowly and wrapped his arms around her stomach. He dug his face into her hair and inhaled the sweet scent of red through his nostrils. Jean smiled as she ran her smooth fingers over Scott's muscular arms that held her firmly and strongly. "I hope you're not too tired," Scott whispered with a predatory tone as Jean shivered when he turned her body to face him. He loved the way she held such a peaceful and professional posture. Such a lovely face with a bright mind and strong heart to go along with it. Only Jean could make him fidget or falter. Only Jean could hold him so tenderly in her loving arms and captivate him with doctor-speak. He looked into her eyes and for all it was worth, time had to wait for him to finish.

"I'm never too tired to be with you," Jean whispered into his ears as goose bumps filled his skin like water washed over the great oceans. "I love you," Jean said, and made every word count. Every word had a mountain and an ocean to go along with it. Words that explained something she knew had been missing lately. A thought she did not want to reencounter. She looked at the strong jaw lines of his face and kissable lips and ran her fingers through his hair. The chestnut color of his hair entangled between her fingers made her melt. But another expression had made her eyebrows knit together with confusion and utter dismay.

Scott's expression was no longer tender, but seemed rough around the physical features of his face. His masculine hands cupped her face from both sides harshly and pulled her towards him. His lips pressed hard against hers as he shoved his tongue into her mouth at the gasp she let out. His hands pulled at the roots of her red hair as Jean tried to break away. But his grasp was too tight and her powers were in a solid state at the horror she felt at the moment. One hand moved towards her waist and pulled her intimately against him. He held on tightly and then moved both hands towards her upper arms. Scott, Jean thought to him between her own erratic thoughts, you're hurting me. But Scott did not respond to her cry. Instead, his hand slid up her shirt roughly as he tugged at her bra strap.

Jean finally got her thoughts together and used her telekinesis to shove him away from her. Scott hit the wall of their large room and jolted his head towards her. "What is the matter with you?!?" Jean exclaimed with horror as Scott's contorted face looked upon Jean with surprise and confusion. If only she could see his eyes.

"I--I'm s--orry J--Jean," Scott said through a choked voice. Jean's eyes looked upon him with fear as no words dared to escape her mouth. She just walked over to her bed and avoided any contact with Scott. She slithered into her bed and pulled the covers over her. Where was she supposed to go? She did not know what had just happened. She turned to the side of the far wall and stared at it blankly.

Her eyes full of fear, as if she knew something was wrong.

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