All she asks, the strength to hold me

by asitiswhenitwas

Friday night, the mansion is empty save for Scott and Rogue. A few sodas and prodding later leads to a road trip to a mini golf course. Running into Bayville high’s “it couple” leads to macho male posturing, subtle female posturing, and much Duncan hating

Title: All she asks, the strength to hold me.
Author: asitiswhenitwas
Fandom: X-Men Evolution.
Rating: PG-ish.
Pairing: Scott/Rogue. Scott/Jean. Duncan/Jean.
Disclaimer: Own Nothing.
Note: Isn't technically a sequel to "Up down turn around" but you can think so if you want.
Summary: Friday night, the mansion is empty save for Scott and Rogue. A few sodas and prodding later leads to a road trip to a mini golf course. Running into Bayville high's "it couple" leads to macho male posturing, subtle female posturing, and much Duncan hating.

---

The dormitory hallway was eerily quiet; the faint sound of a distinctive Peter Hook baseline the only sound Scott could hear as he stepped out of the elevator. A diagnostic test on the Danger Room computer with the professor was enough to knock him out, but it was Friday night; and he was going to have some fun damnit. He looked at his watch, careful not to agitate the bottle in his hand. Eight – Fifteen… Walking down the hall toward the single aural sign of life in the mansion, he half scoffed sure that the rest of the students must be 'out.' He knew for a fact that Jean was on a date with Duncan. Duncan, of course, made sure to point it out to him as he took Jean's arm and lead her off to his car while Scott and Jean were chatting after their final class.

"Jerk…" He stopped having found the source of the music. Kitty and Rogue's room… and here the Professor said he wasn't a psychic. He shifted the bottles he was carrying to one hand, reaching up to knock on the door lightly… no response. Harder this time… again, no. One last attempt before kicking the door open…yielding the same results. He tried the handle, finding it unlocked he tentatively pushed the door open, hoping to avoid an embarrassing encounter. No response from a girl's room? The possibilities were limitless, and his brain was running through each and every one of them. Most of these scenarios ended up with him having the taste slapped out of his mouth; some more 'worth it' than others.

"Kitty… Rogue…?" he questioned as he almost hid behind the door while it swung inward. The bedroom lights were off, leaving a few candles on an end table casting a pale glow across the room. Rogue was lying on her bed and listening to a CD player with her headphones on while staring at the ceiling. She wore her usual green over black; which he saw as slightly lighter black over black; True he was effectively colorblind, but he couldn't help but think she should mix up the colors in her wardrobe a bit. Then, after looking over at the open door to Kitty's pink and pastel dominated closet, he shrugged that notion off. Besides, the darker clothing offset her skin tone well. Anyway, that top could be blue, green, or dark red and it would take him some serious concentration to tell the difference between them.

"Rogue?" a slight smile as recognized the song blaring out of the headphones. She either hates her ear drums or finds the idea of being deaf very appealing. He sat across from her on the foot of kitty's bed. Damn those headphones were loud.

"Rogue?!" he repeated louder this time, before twisting the top off of a bottle of soda and taking a swig.

"ROGUE?!" He repeated it again, much louder, while extending a hand holding a second bottle of over caffeinated sugar water. His third effort was rewarded with three pillows flying at him, one hitting him in the face, the others glancing off of his shoulder. She had cocked her arm back prepared to throw her CD player at the intruder before taking a moment to think better of it.

"Damnit Scott, what the hell?!" she pulled her headphones off and threw them on the mattress while dragging herself off her bed. "Doesn't anyone around here knock?! What if ah was - -"

"I had calculated that risk… Soda?" he cut her off, noticing that her cheeks were starting to darken a bit. "I did knock… repeatedly." He smiled again. "I was worried that something might have been wrong since there was no response."

"Alright, what do you want?" she snatched the bottle out of his hand while walking over to her desk and pulling out the chair.

"Well, it's Friday night, and I was thinking about lighting some candles and brooding alone in my room…" He caught the angry glance she threw while he paused, half for effect, and half for want of caffeine. "… but I figured I'd rather go out and have some fun."

"Some fun? Well, where is everyone else?" She shifted in her seat a bit, irritated by his act, and unable to read the look on his face.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I was working on the DR computer with the Professor; everyone must have left earlier… I was rather pleased to see that I missed the mass exodus… let someone else chauffer the X-kids.

"Squash?" she offered, they played often, and though she was new to the game, she was catching up to his skill level rather quickly.

"Eh… maybe later, I was thinking of going out." He leaned back, looking at the ceiling after another sip of cold cherry-early death. "Is there anything good at the movies?"

"There's nothing worth seeing, just banal romantic comedies; oh, and that action movie starring that guy who should have retired six years ago when his act was relevant... ah think that's what Kitty said she and Lance were going to see." She sighed slightly.

"Don't forget the cartoon teaching children some lame moral and irritating their parents to no end with those annoying songs. They can't make an animated feature without the musical numbers… can they?" he shrugged while looking back to her. "I got it… that Mini Golf place they put in across the street from the multi-plex… something about whaling I believe… or pirates… or shrimp boats… It's definitely a nautical theme.

"Mini Golf?" She scoffed. "What are we twelve?"

"It will be fun." He'd emptied the plastic bottle by now and was tapping it against his knee in rhythm with the music that could be still heard from the CD player on the other side of the room. "Trust me."

"Mini golf? What's next a petting zoo?" She smiled a bit walking across the room.

"Mini Golf." He'd shifted into fearless leader tone. "It's an invitation. Don't force me to make it an order."

"Fine. Ah trust you." She shrugged while blowing the candles on her bedside table out. "Let's go."

"I'll meet you in the garage in ten minutes. I need to change." He stood up and headed for the door. "We'll make it interesting… and if you behave we might go out for a pony ride!"

"Shut up Scott." She slammed the door with a smile and a slight laugh after he left.

"Maybe the roller-rink is still open?!" he yelled as he walked down the hall towards his room; stopping to discard the empty bottle in a waste basket. He changed out of his battle uniform and into a pair of khaki's and a dark shirt (the color of which he wasn't sure, but as it turns out, it's dark red,) buttoned up over a grey T shirt. He pulled a corduroy jacket off of the back of his desk chair and grabbed a CD off the shelf on his way out of his room. After he locked his door he checked to make sure the lock was engaged four or five times before accepting that his personal effects were "New Mutant" proofed… or as close to that as possible.

---

"Ok sugah… lets go." She was waiting near the bottom of the stairs leaning against the wall, looking up at him with a half smile as he descended. "Maybe we'll get lucky and the circus will be in town again?"

"Cute… lets go." A half laughs as he opened the door for her. "You are putting any chances of a stop at the Ice Cream shop on the line."

"Ok… this is getting creepy." A full smile this time… rare sight, he should feel honored. Rogue led the way to the garage, where Scott opened the passenger side door for her before walking around the driver's side, which she had unlocked and opened for him.

"Seatbelt." That statement earned him a serious eye rolling. "Seriously."

"Fine Dad. Jeeze."

"I though you said it was getting creepy?" A punch in the shoulder, an engine turning over, and fumbling around with a car stereo later and they were on the road.

"Where have ah heard this song before?" It was familiar but she just couldn't place it…

"It's the eleventh track on the disc you were listening to in your room." He looked over with a goofy grin.

"What?"

"They're pretty much the same band; it's a long story… I'm not as lame as you think I am."

"Ah don't think you're lame." She offered him another smile; as she leaned back into her seat, it was a beautiful spring night and the wind in her hair felt outstanding.

"Good. We're almost there… let's make this interesting." He winked, however it went unnoticed behind his glasses.

"What do you have in mind?"

"36 holes. Loser does the winners chores for a week."

"Not quite… how about dinner?"

"Dinner…" he reached a hand up to his chin, rubbing it lightly. "All right; somewhere without a drive thru… deal?"

"Deal" she extended her hand and he shook it while pulling into a parking space.

---

Duncan Matthew's put his arm around his girlfriend Jean Grey's waist as they walked out of the lobby of the Bayville multi-plex. "Ok… the movie wasn't that bad?"

"How does that actor keep getting work?" She smiled a bit. "So what do you think about dinner?"

"Hrmmm… sounds good… any ideas on where to – hey, is that Summers and what's her name… the one with the clown make up?"

"… I uh… I think so." Jean said almost nervously.

"That's it… we're playing mini golf." Duncan started to lead her across the street.

"No, let's just go get dinner Duncan." He tightened his grip on her.

"Are they on a date?"

"I'm not sure, who cares, lets go."

"Come on… they are your friends, why shouldn't we say hi?" Jean sighed deeply, rolling her eyes, unable to get out of this without compromising her ethics about using her powers.

"Fine… we'll say hi…"

---

"Okay… an addendum to the wager." Scott laughed. "Winner gets the hat." He pointed out, behind the faux indoor Tiki bar that doubled as the 'clubhouse' a poofy tri-corn captain's hat for sale between the Jolly Roger and a plush parrot. "Oh, and is referred to as the Admiral."

"The Admiral?!" She laughed genuinely and lightly slapped him on the arm. "Fearless leader isn't good enough for you?"

"No… No it is not." He reached into a bowl and pulled out a light colored golf ball, with a half smile. He chose a light color, because, as expected Rogue had chosen a black one, or at least another really dark color…

"Yo, Summers, Robert Smith, what's going on?!" Scott turned around slowly, instantly irritated, as his fight or flight instincts fired.

"… Matthews…" Scott's eyes narrowed even further noticing who was on his arm. "Jean."

"Er, Hi Scott… Rogue. Nice night?" Jean forced an uncomfortable smile.

"Jean… Duncan…" Rogue smiled slightly and took Scott's arm to match poses. "Care to join us?"

"Actually we're just saying hi, we're on our way to dinner." Jean matched Rogue's smile then glanced at Scott.

"On a date?" Duncan asked with a slimy grin, pulling jean in tighter.

"What's it - - " Rogue cut Scott off this time.

"Yeah, what about it?" Rogue offered Jean another half smile.

"I just didn't think you were his type."

"Duncan…" Jean warned.

"For the record, one of the smartest, most talented, and of course, most beautiful girls at school would definitely qualify as 'my type.'" Rogue blushed furiously and started to look away. "Actually, dinner sounds nice." Scott changed tone. "How's this… eighteen holes. Losers buy the winners dinner."

"Well…" Duncan started while narrowing his eyes. "I don't know."

"What's wrong, Dunk? They won't kick you out of the country club for losing a round of Putt Putt... or are you afraid of being embarrassed in front of the most beautiful women on campus?"

"Scott…" Jean warned. \what are you doing.\

"Jean, are you in?" Duncan asked gritting his teeth trying to stare Scott down.

"Fine…" Jean sighed heavily.

"Woah, Summers… is that a pink ball?" Duncan smirked; Rogue rolled her eyes, her cheeks cooling off considerably.

"Yeah, a pink ball." Scott scoffed. "Eye condition, red glasses, remember? I think I saw a kid in a wheelchair finishing up the back nine if you find making fun of peoples disabilities so entertaining." \ Jean, do you remember that party he threw before the homecoming game, he slipped something in your drink and you were sick all night? I held your hair back when you threw up and rubbed your back for four hours. You are still dating him… \

"Let's just have fun…" Jean sighed again, selecting a dark red ball from the bowl, and handing a blue one to Duncan. \What do you mean, he didn't--\

"Yes, this should be fun…" Scott smiled a bit. \No Telekinesis.\ he cut jean off mid thought and with that Scott put up his formidable mental defenses. "Up to this Rogue?"

"Yeah… Let's do this."

---

So it began, as the quartet headed to the first hole; Scott took the ultimate responsibility of keeping score, and setting the initial play order. Macho male posturing had been put on hold momentarily as Duncan took the honors; followed by Rogue, Jean, and then Scott.

The first hole, a sharp dogleg left with a board in the corner to ricochet the ball off of from the initial straight to the left area; the hole itself built on a dock leading from the tiki hut to the faux island pirate hideaway that housed the remaining seventeen holes. Apparently, along with miniature golfing, visitors were also searching for the hidden treasure of Bayville's own Black-Beard... The question of why any self respecting treasure hunter would carry a putter along with him as he searched for treasure was pushed out of Scott's mind as he lined up his first putt. The three previous shots had been scattered just short of the hole blocking any chance he had of hitting it straight on. He turned at an angle hitting the deflecting board at the nearest point, just at the bend, bouncing off ricocheting off of two walls, traveling around the multi-colored blockade and into the hole. It appears the others hadn't gambled on his incredible ability with spatial geometry translating to miniature golf, or at least that's what he read from Duncan and Rogue's jaws dropping.

The others holed out with two strokes each, leaving team Scott/Rogue leading by one stroke. Duncan impatiently reached into the hole to withdraw his ball and take a few steps back, allowing one of the girls to pick up and distribute the remaining balls. Four holes later, Scott and Jean's hands brushed against each other in the hole as they were retrieving, causing a light smile to cross Scott's face and a light intake of breath from Jean with a blush as he caught her eye.

"What are you staring at?" Rogue asked bitterly, finally noticing WHY Duncan was acting strange, using it as a chance to enjoy the view of his female companions rear ends while they were bent over the hole. "Pig." Rogue scoffed, turning around and heading to the next green.

The next hole, as it turns out, it was Scott's hand and Rogue's gloved hand that met during retrieval to similar reaction… She was able however to quietly inform Scott of Duncan's actions. Scott then took on the responsibility of ball retrieval for both ladies while showing admirable restraint to keep from taking a swing at Johnny Football Hero. They would never admit it, but both Jean and Rogue rather enjoyed watching Scott bend over to retrieve their golf balls.

"It's getting a bit cold eh?" Scott asked while standing up from the artificial turf after another successful retrieval on the sixth. In the same motion he pulled off his jacket, draping it across Rogue's shoulders as he led her to the next tee. After Six holes Team Scott/Rogue held a steady three stroke lead, Duncan's years of practice on country club greens helping to keep Scott's freakish geometric ability from turning this into a blowout.

Any hopes of a team Duncan/Jean comeback were dashed however, by the twelfth hole when Scott's first shot rode up the side of the a loop, bounced off a stone from the faux waterfall that a anamatronic pirate was using to cleanse himself in, bounced twice down the gentle decline on the dogleg right landing a foot past the hole and back spinning for a hole in one.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me…" Duncan spat with disgust and slammed his putter on the path as Rogue smiled and applauded. All of those lessons on reading a green at the country club with a former PGA tour pro were rendered useless.

"And that's why no one at the institute will play billiards with you anymore Scott."Jean added with a light laugh.

"So where are you taking us to dinner?" Scott asked with a half smile.

"Twelve holes, nine aces… you have got to be kidding me. Talk about an idiot savant."

"Duncan…" Jean warned as Duncan scowled... Rogue's two putt on the twelfth hole extended team Scott/Rogue to a ten stroke lead.

"I don't like your freak friends…" Duncan muttered as he and jean headed to the next hole ahead of the others. "… and I don't like getting hustled… do we really have to go out to dinner with them?"

"Scott is my best friend… I really wish the two of you could get past the macho bullshit. I know for a fact that he's given you a chance in the past."

"Fine…" Duncan rolled his eyes catching the ball that Scott tossed to him after he and Rogue has caught up to them on the thirteenth tee.

The outcome wasn't in doubt, it hadn't been for a long time now, but as Scott tapped into a rare two on eighteen, it was official. Scott took a seat on a bench on while Duncan leaned on the soda machine that was placed against the wall next to the main entrance to the tiki-hut themed pro shop; while they waited for the ladies to return from 'freshening up' in the bathroom.

---

"Ah don't get it Jean… Duncan… Why?" Rogue ran a gloved hand through her hair once or twice staring into the mirror while Jean washed her hands.

"I know what you're thinking… he's usually not so… well… he's not comfortable around Scott..." Jean trailed off slightly drying her hands on a wad of paper towels. Her eyes narrowed allowing bitterness to take over for a moment. "Why Scott."

"Ah know for a fact that you have at least a thousand answers to that question." Rogue forced a smile before adding another coat to her lipstick. Jean glared at her.

"What's that supposed to mean." Rogue sighed slightly in response.

"Look… Ah know how you feel about him." Rogue trailed off slightly turning around to face Jean.

"Oh? Well why don't YOU tell me how YOU feel about him." A certain tone of bitterness in Jean's voice

"Duncan? He's an ass. He only likes looking at you and using you as some kind of status sy- -" Jean cut her off.

"I meant Scott." Rogue looked down for a moment before returning her gaze.

"How ah feel about him is irrelevant until you make your decision."

"Wha?"

"Ah would tell you to stop lying to yourself and to tell him how you feel about him…" Rogue turned around and started for the door. "But ah can't give advice that ah'm not strong enough to take mahself…" She opened the door and started pacing through. "No matter how desperately ah want to…"

Jean followed Rogue out of the bathroom, and found her at the office counter. She decided not to press it; needing to digest the conversation a bit longer before saying, or doing something rash. She walked past the counter and headed outside to where Duncan and Scott had told them they would be waiting.

---

"So… you and Marcel Merceau eh?" Duncan smirked at Scott who narrowed his eyes behind his glasses; tightening his jaw.

"Yeah, we're friends… I know the two of us have a different definition of that…" Scott stood up slowly. "Like say how you consider Annie to be 'just a friend' after making out with her at your homecoming party while I was helping your girlfriend back home to vomit up whatever the hell it is you put in her drink."

"She's never been good at holding her liquor." Duncan's eyes narrowed a bit more, attempting to stare Scott down with a scowl.

"She was drinking punch." Scott's fists tightened and relaxed slowly. Duncan let out a half laugh.

"Look shades. Just because you are in love with my girlfriend, doesn't mean you can spout off - -" Duncan was cut off by two hands grasping the breasts of his letterman jacket, slamming his back into the façade of the vending machine.

"She's my best friend. If it concerns her it concerns me." He pulled Duncan toward him for a beat, and then slammed him harder into the machine. "If you hurt her, there is not a force on this earth that will protect you from me…" Duncan smirked again.

"I'll remember that when her tongue is in my mouth…" Duncan started to push Scott away from him. "Why don't you try looking me in the eyes when you say that?"

"Gladly..." Scott replied flatly, holding Duncan away at arm's length with his left arm while his right hand raced to his glasses. An unseen force keeping them tight to his face, not letting him release his trademark crimson beams of absolute force.

"OH MY GOD SCOTT!!!" Jean dashed toward him, grabbing his shoulder tightly. "What is wrong with you?!" A telepathic scream \LET HIM GO!!!\ shattered his mental defenses as he dropped to one knee, releasing his hold on Duncan's jacket. His hands quickly grasped the sides of his head while releasing a quick groan of pain masked as a four letter word. Rogue, hearing the initial scream, hurried out to Scott's side.

"Duncan, are you all right?! What happened?!" jean asked while pulling him away from Scott. Duncan raised his arms innocently while pacing towards the parking lot. Scott clenched a fist and drove it hard into the ground, hoping the physical pain would dull its mental counterpart. Rogue placed a worried hand on Scott's shoulder.

"I don't know… he just got all crazy for a minute there." The right side of his face curled slightly into a half smile. "I always knew he was a wuss, all you did was grab him and he collapsed." Duncan laughed, while jean looked back slightly concerned. "I think he's jealous."

"What do you mean…" Duncan wrapped an arm over her shoulder, as she turned back to him.

"Of you, I'm pretty sure he wants me for himself." He grinned, and despite herself Jean laughed. "Hey, since it looks like the double date is off, let's rent a DVD and pick up some chow, just hang out at my place."

"Sounds good…" jean trailed off, opening a telepathic channel to Scott, as if she had something to say to him, but closed it, unable to find the words; or as it was, thoughts.

"Well… looks like dinner is off…" Rogue said forcing a half smile while helping Scott to his feet. "Ah don't think ah've ever seen her that angry."

"Let's head back to the institute." Scott replied flatly, opening and closing the fist that now, mercifully, was the only source of pain. It was sore and scuffed a bit from the paved pathway, but fortunately nothing was broken. They walked to Scott's car in silence. He remained courteous enough to open the passenger side door for her, while he sighed audibly sinking into his seat. He turned the car on, re-setting the CD currently in the stereo back to track one. He stared off into space for the duration of the song, catching the worried expression on Rogue's face in his periphery. Upon the completion of the first song he put the car in drive and peeled out of the parking lot.

"So…" Rogue started tentatively.

"Sorry about dinner." He didn't look over, focusing on the road with grim determination.

"It's ok... Duncan is a giant douche bag; and ah REALLY didn't really want to sit in a restaurant dealing with their garbage all night. Besides ah'm sure the feeling is mutual."

"Yeah…" he forced a half smile. "So… Drive-thru Tacos?"

"Sure…"

By the time Scott and Rogue got home only a few of the younger students had returned home. Mercifully, they were either in the living room, or in their dormitories; leaving the kitchen clear. They ate in comfortable silence, as Scott obliterated five tacos and the half gallon of neon green 'extra stomach pain' soda. Rogue had finished her much more reasonably sided meal, popping her last cinnamon twist into her mouth while Scott was shaking his cup, re-adjusting the ice so he could drain the last few drops of obscenely sweet soda. Rogue stood up, walking across the room to throw her spent wrappers into the garbage. On the return trip, she finally reached into the plastic bag she had been carrying for what seemed like forever, pulling out the admiral's hat, placing it on his head from behind.

"Alright… you earned it… Admiral Summers." She sat, this time, next to him to his left. Delighted to see the first genuine smile she'd seen since before the ill fated bathroom break; however she was very disappointed at how quickly it faded.

"Hmmm… Admiral Summers eh?" He forced a light laugh. "At least some of us don't renege on our bets."

"Oh, Duncan will never pay up… Ah'm sure that once Jean calms down she'll be good for it…" She trailed off, realizing that now was most likely not the time to bring her name up.

"…Yeah…" He trailed off too leaning back in his chair looking at the ceiling.

"Look… Ah probably shouldn't say this." She placed her right hand softly on his left. "She'll figure it out…" She bit her lip lightly. "And if she doesn't…" She squeezed his hand gently, smiling at him as he turned his head to face her. She slowly trailed her gloved fingers on the back of his hand as she released him while standing up. She ran the same hand nervously through her hair as she made her way to the kitchen door, glancing back on her way through with a light blush.

Ceremony.

(Asitiswhenitwas.)
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