Jean was in a Danger Room session when she felt Ororo approaching the area in a big hurry. She ran to the panel just as Ororo was overriding her training session on the outside computer.
"Ororo, what's going on?"
"It's Wolverine. He's here!"
"What," Jean slipped on a long-sleeved shirt over her sports bra.
"He's in Xavier's office. You didn't tell me about the eye patch."
"He didn't have one," Jean ran the rest of the way to the office.
Jean let her knuckles brush the door as she entered.
"Are you all right?"
"I'll live," Wolverine muttered, his white t-shirt still wet with blood.
"Logan has decided it isn't possible for him to live separately from other Mutants, especially in his current state. I have offered him a place here," Charles looked at her with a smile. He thought this was her doing.
"Of course," she replied. "Should I have Dr. McCoy take a look at his eye?"
"Take him straightaway, Jean."
"Thank you, Charles."
She escorted him to the infirmary in silence, waiting impatiently by the door. Hank came out of the infirmary with a kind smile on his face.
"Your friend there has a unique mutation, and even more unique alterations."
"What about his eye?"
"That's the best news of all. His healing goes so far as to replace the one he lost."
"Can I see him?"
"Yes, he should be decent now."
Jean walked into the room as Logan buckled his belt.
"How does your eye feel?"
"The doc glued it shut while it heals, it itches."
They watched each other warily for a moment.
"Jean."
"Logan."
"Code name," he asked.
"Naturally," she smiled.
"Thought I might be the enemy," he smirked.
"You never know."
"Smart girl," he chuckled.
"I know. Let's go get you settled in."
Logan grabbed his leather jacket and duffle bag. She had to suppress a laugh when she passed by Ororo and the rest of the team, conspicuously gathered around the foyer.
"They're staring," Logan growled, glaring over his shoulder at them as they climbed the stairs.
"You're the one with bloodstained jeans, not wearing a shirt," she smirked, flicking a glance at his broad, hairy chest.
"You don't look like a 'Jean'," he stated.
"You don't look like a 'Logan'," she replied in kind, leading him into an available room.
"Fair enough," he looked around, and dropped his bag on the floor.
"Hand over your jeans."
"What?"
"Do you own another pair?"
"Yeah," he arched an eyebrow at her.
"Then get out of those so I can wash the blood out."
Logan shrugged and did as she said, holding them out to her as he stood there, quite unconcerned with being naked in front of her.
Jean walked out of the room, sensing he was a bit surprised she hadn't blushed, or even taken a good look at him. Pausing at the door, she turned and looked him in the eye.
"Nothing I haven't already seen," she smirked.