Jean came awake with a start. Logan was up, helping Storm with flight checks.
"You were supposed to wake me before landing, Logan!"
He smirked as she flung herself out of the chair and stubbed her toes on another seat on her way back to her bag.
"I tried, you swatted me away."
"I did not!"
"Actually, you did," the ends of Storm's lips curled up.
Jean huffed and shut the door, trying to change in the bathroom.
"Why would Xavier design this thing like a commercial airline bathroom, he's freakin' Daddy Warbucks on wheels," Jean muttered to herself as she struggled to change clothes.
"I'm tellin' him you said that," Logan's amused voice sounded from the other side of the door.
"You wouldn't dare," Jean opened the door and poked his broad chest with a finger.
"Watch me."
"Name your price," she sighed, stepping into a pair of ridiculously high heels.
"Oh, I'm gonna save that bargain for later, Red," he swiped the bag from her hand and walked down the stairs of the jet.
"Ro, if we could just…" Jean turned to Storm.
"Jean Grey, turn away a missing Mutant just because she's alone with Logan?"
"Should have ordered Bobby to come, I outrank him," Jean muttered.
"Off with you," Storm shooed her away.
"See you soon," Jean smiled.
Jean stepped onto the tarmac, and ducked under a waiting umbrella.
"Thank you."
"Anytime, Jean."
Jean looked over and smiled slightly. "Wade, I didn't know you were here."
"Theresa needed a friend," he replied.
"It's good you could be here, then."
He grunted a reply, opening the door for her with a touch of his fingers to a keypad. Jean stepped inside, recognizing some faces that looked back at her. Siryn left her post, approaching Jean with a mischievous smile.
"Well, aren't you a grand sight?"
"Theresa," Jean smiled, accepting the smaller redhead's embrace gladly.
"Your fella is already gettin' to work. He told me you were knackered and needed a bit more of a lie down in your room."
"Did he now?"
"Aye, he did."
"No need. I slept on the jet."
"Shall we do some field work, then?"
"Will I need more sensible shoes?"
Theresa whistled appreciatively at the spike heels. "How do you teeter on them things?"
"Very carefully," Jean chuckled.
"You may want to change, cold day."
"Lead the way to my room then," Jean glanced at Logan, who no doubt overheard their whole conversation.
Jean slipped out of her pencil skirt and traded it for a pair of heavy jeans and boots, slipping her pea coat on.
"Is that the only way in and out," Jean asked.
"Do we look daft? I'll take you out a way your fella won't be able to figger out."
"Not my fella," Jean looked over her shoulder, turning up her collar as they reached a door Theresa held open for her.
"Still nothing goin' on? Not even a bit of an accidental snog?"
"How does one accidentally make out," Jean laughed, hoping her cheeks didn't get too pink.
"Just sittin' around, having a pint, few laughs…" Theresa smirked.
"A couple of us were havin' a night in," Jean admitted, busy buttoning her coat against the biting cold.
"Ah, so there was a bit of hank panky, as you Americans call it," Theresa nudged Jean.
"I'm afraid only Hank uses that phrase anymore," Jean laughed, getting into the car Theresa chose.
"Let's leg it outta here before your-Logan, tries to drag you back by the hair."
"I'm afraid I can picture him doing just that," Jean chuckled.
