Disclaimer: I do not own The X-Men. I do not make any money off them. This is purely a hobby.
Author's Notes: This story takes place in the same universe as my previous two stories, The Girl From Tomorrow and Wait For Me. So many have asked me to make a trilogy out of my stories, and I decided to take on that challenge, both for myself and as a thank-you to my faithful readers. Again, this is a Scott/Jean story. For those who are fans, enjoy!
Chapter 1
The Olive Garden – New York
February 5th, 2011
"Happy sixteenth, sweetheart! What did you wish for?" Jean asked, embracing her daughter just as she blew out the candles on her birthday cake.
"Mom! I can't tell you that, otherwise it won't come true," Rachel answered, a mischievous grin on her face.
"She probably wished for Franklin to finally notice her," twelve-year-old Nathan Summers answered with a lopsided grin on his face that was an exact replica of his father's.
"I did not!" Rachel said, throwing a piece of breadstick at her brother's head.
Jean quickly plucked the breadstick in mid-flight telekinetically, wanting to avoid drawing attention to their table. She gave her son and daughter a warning look that never failed to scare them. "Stop teasing your sister, Nate," Jean told her son.
"Franklin? The new student?" Scott asked. "Sue and Reed Richards' son?" Uh oh. Jean knew her husband was beyond over protective of their daughter. She hoped for the sake of peace, he'd drop it.
Rachel glared at her younger brother before turning to her father. "Yes, dad… But Nate's just being annoying, I don't care about Franklin," Rachel said, shrugging as if to emphasize her indifference.
"Wait…" Scott said, obviously unwilling to drop the subject. "Is that why you took Advanced Chemistry, Rach?"
"Umm…" Rachel hesitated.
"I knew something was up! You hate chemistry. You just wanted to be in the same class as that boy," Scott said.
"That's not why I took it!" Rachel said, rather defensively. "I wanted a challenge."
Scott gave his daughter an 'I-wasn't-born-yesterday' look and was about to say something when Jean interrupted his thoughts. **Honey, please drop it. It's our daughter's birthday. You can cross-examine her tomorrow.**
**But… but…** Scott mentally sputtered.
**Let her enjoy tonight, Scott. Besides, if she does have a crush on Franklin, so what? She's sixteen, not six. It's completely normal,** Jean said, through their psychic rapport. She knew her husband got the message when he subtly slumped back in his seat.
"So, sweetie, you excited for your hockey game tomorrow?" Jean asked her son, wanting to change the subject.
Nate shrugged and unenthusiastically answered, "Yeah, I guess."
"What's the matter, Nate?" Rachel asked. "You pestered mom and dad for months to enroll you in bantam hockey. Why aren't you more excited?"
"All the other boys always take cheap shots at me. The past week alone I've been boarded, slashed and slew footed when the refs weren't looking. My own teammates told me I sucked and that I wasn't big enough or strong enough… I've been called everything from 'wimp' to 'shrimp to 'imp'," Nathan said dejectedly, his shoulders drooping.
"Why haven't you said anything before, son?" Scott asked.
"I dunno," Nate said, nonchalantly. But Jean knew better. Her son was sensitive, and she knew it hurt him.
"Well, I'm going to talk to your coach tomorrow," Jean said.
"No, mom! You can't do that! You'll just make things worse!" Nate said, more than a hint of panic in his voice.
"I'm not going to just ignore the fact that you're being bullied, Nate!" Jean argued.
"Please mom, forget I said anything!" Nate begged.
**Sweetheart, I'm going to have to agree with Nate on this. You'll make things worse if you interfere,** Scott said to his wife through their psychic rapport.
**So, what should we do? Just let our son be bullied?** Jean asked.
**He's going to have to learn to stand up for himself. Nate's a good kid. He'll earn their respect soon enough. Besides, according to future Rachel, he'll be about 6'3" by the time he's seventeen… He won't be a 'shrimp' for much longer,** Scott said, telepathically.
Jean decided to relent… For the time being. "Alright, Nate… I won't speak to your coach, for now. But if this gets worse, I'm stepping in."
Nate breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Thanks, mom. It's nothing I can't handle… And outside of the name-calling they leave me alone off the ice. It's just that… I wished it were more fun."
"You'll get there, sweetheart," Jean said. "It'll just take some time." Jean remembered Rachel from the future telling her how her brother at seventeen caught the eye of various hockey scouts; he was so good at the game.
Nate, obviously wanting to drop the subject and move attention away from himself, turned to his sister and shoved a small, pink gift-wrapped box at her. "Happy birthday, sis."
"Thanks, Nate. You didn't have to get me anything," Rachel answered, as she tore the gift wrap off the box.
"Oh, how nice… a locket. Thanks, Nate!" Rachel said, reaching over the table and giving her brother a kiss on the cheek. It was a gold locket in the shape of a ball.
"Not just a locket," Nathan answered. "It's a secret message ball locket."
Rachel opened the locket. "Oh, I see."
Nathan continued. "So, instead of communicating telepathically where mom could eavesdrop, we can just pass notes."
"Hey! You realize that I could just read your minds once you've read your notes, right?" Jean said, with mock indignation.
Nate answered, "We know you, mom. You'd never read our minds without our permission."
Scott just laughed. Jean couldn't help but crack a smile. Her son was right about her. She'd always been the telepath you could trust.
"Mom wants to set a good example for us, Nate," Rachel said.
"You mean for you. I'm already twelve and there's no sign of my powers at all," Nate answered.
Nate's powers hadn't yet developed, but Rachel's had. Although Nate couldn't initiate any telepathic communication yet, he could certainly respond to one.
"My powers didn't manifest until I was sixteen, son," Scott said. "Trust me, your powers will come."
"Anyway, thanks, Nate. I love the gift," Rachel said, hugging her brother.
"Here Rach, this one's from your mom and I," Scott said, handing his daughter an envelope.
Rachel opened the envelope and gasped. "Oh, my god! Beyoncé concert tickets?! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Rachel hugged both her parents.
Jean laughed at her daughter's excitement. "It's not until August, but your father and I wanted to get you the best seats."
"There are two tickets here… Who am I supposed to bring?" Rachel asked.
"Well sweetie, that's up to you," Jean said, smiling.
"You could ask Franklin," Nate said, teasing his sister.
"Nate!" Rachel said, blushing. Rachel and Nathan were very close, but they sure knew how to press each other's buttons.
"Or how about not…" Scott said, monotonously. "Why don't you ask Clarice, Marie, or Ilyana… or how about Nate?"
"So, basically, dad's saying, anyone but a boy, unless you're related to him," Nate said smirking. "And please, spare me the torture, don't even offer." Rachel childishly stuck her tongue out at her brother.
Jean rolled her eyes, knowing her son hit the nail right on the head there. "Sweetie, you don't have to decide now. The concert is still six months away."
"You're right, mom. Thanks so much for everything. This is the best present ever!" Rachel said, embracing her parents one more time. After a few more minutes, the Summers' asked for their bill and headed home.
The Boathouse
Four Hours Later
Scott watched his wife come out of the washroom dressed in her sheer white nightgown. She didn't really notice him staring at her as she was busy patting her hair dry with a towel. Even after almost nineteen years of marriage, she was still the most beautiful woman Scott had ever laid eyes on. His desire for her hadn't dimmed even just a little. There were days he still had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't all just a dream.
"Scott! You're embarrassing me," Jean said, a blush on her pale cheeks.
Scott just laughed, knowing his thoughts were usually open to her through their psychic link. "I can't help my thoughts, honey," Scott answered. "I suppose if it really bothers you, you could always let yourself go and get all fat and wrinkled… But then again, I love you so much, I'd probably still think you were gorgeous."
Jean walked over to their bed, slipped under the covers and snuggled next to Scott. "Well, at least I can still turn a head," Jean said, kissing her husband.
"Ha! Turn a head? You turn heads everywhere you go… Poor Rachel's been telling me how so many of her male classmates have a crush on you," Scott said, in a huff. "Imagine how awkward that must be for her."
"Oh yeah, who?" Jean asked, skepticism lacing her voice. Scott still found it charming how his wife didn't realize just how gorgeous she was.
"I don't know… Rachel refused to tell me," Scott said, running his hand through his hair. "It's for the best, I probably have most of those boys in my classes too. I can still hear Hank's voice in my head saying, 'Scott, what man hasn't had a crush on your wife?'"
Jean crinkled her nose in that cute way Scott loved. "Well, I'm still doubtful… That being said, I know for a fact that a lot of Rachel's girlfriends also have a crush on you… and I know because their thoughts are loud," Jean said.
Scott scoffed at that. "C'mon, Jean… I have a reputation at the school as No-Nonsense Mr. Summers. I seriously doubt that."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, they hate that you're such a task master… But they respect you for it… And it doesn't change the fact that those girls ogle you behind your back," Jean said, giggling.
Scott gasped in mock indignation. "And you're not the least bit jealous?" Scott asked his wife.
"Not of a bunch of teenage girls, no… Besides, I know you only have eyes for me… Or should I say 'eye'?" Jean said, teasingly.
"Cute, Jean," Scott said, in his trademark deadpan voice. "By the way, Rachel really loved her gift. What a great idea! What made you come up with it?" Scott asked, changing the subject.
"A lot of the girls in my Biology class were talking about it. I know Rachel has a bunch of Beyoncé songs on the iPod we got her last Christmas. I figured we couldn't go wrong," Jean answered. "Besides, if I left the gift choice to you, our daughter would have ended up with a mace whistle and pepper spray."
"Aren't you a hoot," Scott answered sardonically. "And I'm not that bad!"
"You kind of are," Jean said, tentatively.
"No, I'm not!" Scott said, defensively.
"Really? Well, I didn't want to say anything earlier, but the reason Franklin Richards ignores Rachel is because he's intimidated by you. He's actually very attracted to her. He's let slip a few thoughts here and there," Jean said.
"What?! He's like two years older than her!" Scott said, his voice raised.
"I rest my case," Jean said, a smirk on her lovely face.
"Pfff… Well, that young man better remember that Rachel's my little girl and not his conquest," Scott said, frowning.
"Rachel's growing more and more powerful every day, Scott. So much so, that Professor Xavier and I had to slow down her progress by putting psychic dampeners in her mind lest her powers overwhelm her… Are you really scared for Rachel's safety? Or are you scared of losing her?" Jean asked her husband.
Scott sighed. His wife knew him too well. "You know, Jean… It seemed just like yesterday that Rach would climb on my lap and say in that sweet lilt of hers, 'Daddy, come p'ay wif me.' Now, pretty soon, it'll be 'Dad, can I borrow the keys to your car?'"
"I know, honey… Time flies for sure," Jean said, caressing her husband's cheek.
"How do you do it, Jean? You've always taken everything in stride when it comes to the kids. I sometimes wonder if anything ever rattles you," Scott said.
"We share a psychic rapport, Scott… You know what my fears are… I fear that Mr. Sinister is not really dead, and that he's just biding his time before he comes after Rachel again… And now that Nate's older, I have no doubt if he's still alive he'd go after our son too-"
"Hey now," Scott said, pulling his wife closer to him, wanting to comfort her.
Jean continued. "I worry about our children and how they're going to handle their awesome powers when they fully manifest. I worry that the future is set in stone and that I'm still meant to die five years from now, and as a result, Rachel will be destined to die in the cold, black waters of the Cayman Trough… Those are the things that keep me up at night, Scott."
"I swear, I won't let that happen, Jean… Any of it!" Scott said, pure conviction in his voice. He sighed and ran his hand through his disheveled hair. "I guess when you put things into perspective like that, I do feel kind of silly worrying about Rachel the way I do."
"Well, that's why we've always made a good team… We balance each other," Jean said, embracing her husband.
"Do you think Nate will be okay for his game tomorrow?" Scott asked his wife, wanting to change the subject.
"I think so. Nate's tougher than he looks. He's a late bloomer and so is tinier than most twelve-year-olds. He gets that from you. I was still a hair taller than you when we first met, remember? Then a year later you shot up. He will too," Jean answered.
"Yeah, but not before tomorrow's game," Scott said, wryly.
"Well, now that I know what's going on, you can be sure I'll be keeping a close eye on him from the stands," Jean said.
"Honey, are you saying you'll be influencing the game telekinetically from the stands?" Scott asked, an amused smile on his face.
"Not exactly… I'm just going to make sure that none of the bigger boys will crush Nate against the boards or get a good slash at him, that's all," Jean said, shrugging.
"Well… Don't let Nate notice. He'll hate that," Scott said.
"I know," Jean said. "Anyway, what time should we leave to bring Nate to his game tomorrow?"
"Actually, you're going to have to bring him and I'm just going to have to meet you at the arena. I'll probably miss the first period. Remember, the new teacher the professor hired is coming in for an orientation tomorrow and he asked me to take care of it?" Scott said.
"Oh right, I completely forgot. Who did he end up hiring from all those candidates again?" Jean asked.
"Umm… The telepath I believe, what's her name… hmm… Oh yeah, Ms. Snow."
To be continued…