So I'm starting another X-Men: Evolution mostly-AU fanfic involving Laura and Jean, however this one is mostly from Jean's perspective because I think that she's just Mary Sue enough to provide hardcore amusement to me, and hopefully through my amateurish writing to you.

All belong to Marvel and WB (I hate WB) except Jean's nightstand clock, because I got lonely and wanted credit for SOMETHING.

"Jean?" A voice whispered in Jean's dream. It didn't fit at all; her dream did not include anxious voices, just Scott and a hot tub.

"Jean." It said again, a little less worried and a little more annoyed. She muttered something and flopped over in bed to the best of her abilities with the sheet cocooning her, burying her face in her thick red hair.

"G'way," she muttered, refusing to wake up for anything, not at this point in the dream. Why does this always happen when it's getting good? Oh yeah. Laura must have done something and wants me to bail her out when Logan finds out. Well, she can suffer this time. Now, Scott, where were we….

"Jean!" Laura's voice was louder this time, and broke Jean's hold on her nice dream completely at the same time a stuffed bear came down hard on her back.

"What do you want?" she asked, unburying her face from her pillow and massive morning hair. Morning? It's not morning yet, no one else is awake. She braced herself and looked at the clock. 2:19 AM.

It was all she could do not to start crying. The dream could have gotten so far.

"I um…did something." Laura said, glancing around their shared room anxiously for hidden eavesdroppers. "Come see."

"Everyone does things, what did you do that warranted waking me up in the middle of the night. I was having a pleasant dream."

Laura snorted in her 'I don't know why you're telling me this, you know I don't care' expression and hauled Jean to a sitting position in her sheets. Jean was glad she'd gone with the thicker nightgown instead of satin, it was chilly in the room. Late fall was beginning to chase the last of the warmth away, and in New York that meant making sure you really did have all the winter clothes you'd ever need because winter would hit with a vengeance within weeks.

Her younger roommate, dressed in an oversized sports shirt that likely really belonged to Sam or maybe once to Evan, and bike shorts that definitely belonged to Kitty, threw open the closet door and chucked Jean's denim jacket at her as she tried to wake up enough for coherent thought. The shoes thrown in her face helped.

"Laura…what did you do?" Jean asked again, noticing the girl's urgency.

"Shut up and come on!" was her reply. She slowly untangled herself from her bed, put the jacket and shoes on, and followed Laura down the halls of the mansion with blurry eyes and constant yawns. At one point Laura actually grabbed her arm and dragged her along.

They stopped in front of the laundry room. Well, slightly down the hall from the laundry room, because the room itself and the hall for ten feet in either direction was filled with perky little soap suds and bubbles and smelled clean and like lavender.

"Oh, why did you do this?" Jean whined, suddenly, horribly, fully awake. "Logan's going to jump all over you, and then the Professor will ask me why you weren't in bed- what happened?"

"I was curious," Laura said defensively, standing sedately beside the horrified nineteen year old. "I saw Ororo do some laundry a few days ago and figured I should start doing mine, since Logan said I need to start pulling my own weight around here-"

"But you only weigh, what, eighty pounds?"

"- So I decided to wash some of the clothes I've been wearing lately, but I forgot exactly in what order Ororo did things so I decided to just try remembering. I put the white powder in, and the blue liquid, and I wanted to see what happened in the washer so I didn't put any clothes in it. So I left the top open and I watched, and the next thing I know it short-circuited and there was a massive explosion of cottony-fresh detergent bubbles."

Jean couldn't help herself. She started giggling. It was incredibly funny, at two in the morning, how Laura could fight better than any professional, assassinate anyone in her way, survive in nearly impossible conditions- but couldn't do a simple load of laundry or use an oven. Her giggling took a slightly hysterical edge. She gave up a hot dream of Scott and a hot tub for this?

"Okay, we need to clean this up," she said after a few minutes. "Go get…mops. And buckets. And towels- not the nice ones in the bathroom, the other ones. And a few Hershey Kisses, I need chocolate. And I'll…start while you're getting all that." She looked at the slowly expanding sea of bubbly soapy detergent. "Don't forget the chocolate."

As Laura ran off, Jean rounded all of the runaway detergent up into a telepathic bubble and floated it outside into the forest behind the mansion, allowing her bubble to pop and the torrent of detergent to spread or evaporate in peace where it wouldn't get anyone grounded. About the time she returned, Laura did, laden with mops, buckets, towels, and a bag of chocolate.

They got to mopping up the hall and floor, trying their hardest not to slip, get stuck to unmopped spots, or get their pajamas wet.

"I want to make sure you realize that what you did was probably not very well thought out," Jean said eventually, "Although your idea was a good one."

"Well, I know that NOW," Laura said bitterly. "Can't you just whisper into my head 'Laura, don't even think about it' whenever I'm about to do something stupid like that? It would make living here a lot easier."

Jean laughed softly, trying to keep part of her mind open for students or adults prowling around the mansion. It looked like Rogue was in the kitchen again, but that was down another hall and they were probably going to beat her back to bed at the rate the cleaning was going.

They finished as the grandfather clock in the foyer began its toll for three o'clock. Jean sighed with relief and tossed the mop in a bucket.

"Bedtime," she said sleepily. Laura agreed. They cleaned up the evidence and went back to their- formerly Jean's- room, and got in their separate beds.

The comfortable silence grew as the wee hours of the morning drew nearer, and Jean was almost back in that hot tub, when Laura spoke softly once again.

"Jean?" she whispered from across the room.

"Yes?"

"Can you show me how to do that without explosions sometime?"

Jean giggled sleepily. "I think first you need your own clothes, but sure. Once we get you your own clothes and you quit borrowing everyone else's, yes, I will teach you to do your own laundry and pull all eighty pounds of your own weight. Now let me get back to the hot- I mean to sleep."

And thus, the idea was born, deep within Jean's subconscious.

She heard Laura snort sarcastically, but nothing else. Scott and the hot tub had waited after all.