Chapter 37
The next morning at the Institute...
"Well someone's looking a bit of a sleepy-head this morning," a telepathic voice with a cheeky British accent breaks in.
Said 'sleepy-head' raises her green eyes up but her head remains firmly planted resting on one hand while the other brings much needed coffee from a cup to her lips. "What?" Jean queries, not really catching any of it.
There is a loud mental chortle as Betsy sits herself down at the kitchen table. "Trouble sleeping?" the purple-haired telepath asks amused.
Yes because the cold shower didn't cut it. Jean spent all night horny and frustrated. She never realised just how much she was until now.
"So how long have you and Clark been dating?" Betsy asks, cutting right to it. "By the way I hate you."
Jean rolls her eyes. "You have a boyfriend, Bets," she reminds her friend.
"And I love Warren loads but I think you'll find I'm not against open relationships."
Jean makes a mental snort and ensures Betsy hears it. "To answer your question; six weeks roughly."
"And how did it start because I remember last year you were really fed up with him?"
"I was but I now think I was being overly harsh on him. I didn't see just how hurt he was by Apocalypse but I do now and I realised he doesn't need my anger. He needs my understanding. He needs help to heal...and that is as far as I'm willing to go in discussing his personal pain so don't ask," the New York State native warns the Brit off pushing for details.
"Ok. I understand so how exactly did you two cross the line?"
Jean summarises back to Clark's episode with Kevin(now codename Blank(it seemed fitting)) and his subsequent amnesia that exposed his underlying attraction to Jean and hers towards him in return.
"God is that sorta stuff still happening around here," Betsy complains about minds being messed with. A regular occurrence at the Institute.
"You expected it to change?" Jean queries in amusement, one perfectly maintained eyebrow arched.
"I lived in hope. Sue me."
"Later. Busy."
"Funny."
"I try."
"Sooo...how is it?"
"How is what?"
"Seriously?" Betsy asks, miffed. "Do I have to send you mental pictures?"
Jean rolls her eyes. She gets it. She should not be surprised at all Betsy would go there. "Since when have I ever been someone who openly talks about their love life?"
"You-you haven't done it yet?!" Betsy mentally splutters in shock at what she assumes to be true.
"Again, I do not talk about it."
"God, if it had been me he wouldn't have survived the first date with his virtue intact."
"Well not everyone is you, Bets."
"Mores the pity," Betsy smirks, her ego showing through.
Jean sighs. "Pity, yes. Pity you interrupted last night," she grumbles, her sexual frustration burning through her natural reluctance to share stuff like this.
Betsy gets it. "Oops. My bad. Sorry. So you really were..."
"Yes," Jean admits.
"Sorry," Betsy apologises again.
"Don't be sorry, Bets. I am glad to see you. I'm just..."
"I'm sensing horniness and desperate need."
"I wouldn't say desperate. It's just...after a year...Clark's woken my libido back up from its hibernation...and oh my God! How are you getting me to talk about this when I said I don't?"
"My natural charm and charisma," Betsy thinks, a huge shit-eating grin on her face. "Can you blame me for being curious? You know I had a thing for Clark."
"Ask Rogue...or better yet Illyana. She has no filter on her mouth."
"Really? Then why am I here wasting my time on you?"
"Sit down Betsy!" Jean snaps before the purple haired girl can move.
"Spoilsport," Betsy pouts.
Jean mentally groans. Why oh why is she friends with Betsy again? Apart from the fact that Betsy really is great fun. "Look, if you'll keep it secret I'll admit this 'dry spell' won't last past Prom. I kinda had planned to..."
"Ooh, you sexy rebel you," Betsy jokes in good fun. "Planning to give Clark a Prom night he'll never forget huh?"
"I've been thinking about it."
"Got a dress?"
Jean sends a mental image of the dress she has picked out.
"Ok, forget going to Prom. Once Clark sees you in that you'll never get out the door before he's ravishing you," is Betsy's view.
"You think?"
Betsy sighs. "Jean you look like a supermodel without trying. Not as gorgeous as me mind you but you're up there."
"Gee, thanks," Jean dead-pans.
Betsy ignores the snippy attitude. "My point being that's how you look on an average day. When you actually try men's minds suffer a severe blood depletion."
"Ew! Do you have to phrase it like that?" Jean complains at the mental imagery.
Betsy looks at Jean curiously. Her response was a bit more...childish than she's use to from her friend. In fact it kinda reminds her of the way Clark might have responded. Interesting. She wonders what kind of effect the hunky alien is having on the powerful psychic. "So just to ask the question; are you happy?"
"I am," Jean confirms readily. "Honestly, Clark's great. Most of the time he's thoughtful, sweet and kind and we can talk about things and he isn't intimidated by my intelligence." Duncan had been now Jean recalls but Clark isn't. "Sure he can be a bit dense from time to time," she tags on.
"What man isn't," Betsy pipes up.
"True."
Jean and Betsy share a chuckle.
"God I hate it when you two do that."
The two young women turn their gaze to a certain ice-generator also sat at the table.
"Do what precisely, Bobby?" Jean asks him.
"Have little private telepathic conversation," he says gesturing at his head and then waving his hands between two girls. "I swear you're talking about me."
"Only the best method to lobotomise you, luv," Betsy replies far too cheerfully.
"Or to make you think you're a 5 year old girl," Jean joins in in the same too cheerful manner.
Betsy gasps in delight. "We could play dress up with him and do his hair!"
Jean nods. "And honestly I think Chloe would thank us for it."
Betsy nods along.
"Ha, ha, very funny," Bobby mocks them.
"Do we look like we're joking?" Jean asks him.
Bobby looks at the two, their expressions deadly serious for about one second more before he dashes from the room.
It only takes another second before the two telepaths crack and laugh their heads off.
Just then Chloe walks in and Betsy makes a keen observation. "You're back late."
Jean gazes at the golden girl. "Are you?" she asks. "Are you just back in? Were you out all night?"
Chloe rummages around the kitchen for some breakfast. "I didn't realise we lived in a prison," she snarks defensively.
"We don't."
"Then I fail to see how I spend my time is anyone's business but my own."
Jean and Betsy share a look. Ok, they've clearly hit a nerve here somehow. What is going on? And will Jean have to say something to Clark? After all Chloe is his best friend. Well this is gonna make her morning more awkward.
Central Park, New York...
"Prom?" starts a familiar conversation only between two different individuals who are taking a walk through the park.
One was a certain brown-haired boy trying to ease his brown-haired girlfriend out of her shell and out of the mansion. "Well, yeah," he kinda lamely confirms.
"Pete, I don't know that that is a good idea," Kitty says, sounding very unsure of herself.
"Kitty, please. This is my last chance to looks at least half-cool by showing off how I'm dating the prettiest girl alive."
"Oh well as long as it's about making you look cool," she derides him...playfully which is an improvement for her. Periods of when she breaks out of her sullen mood are becoming more common. Peter likes to think it's a sign she's healing. "But are you thinking about poor ol me? Just think of how much street cred I'll lose," she childish whines.
"Completely impossible. Your cred is untouchable."
"Well...maybe," Kitty muses.
Peter half-smiles. This is the most like herself Kitty has sounded since she was infected with the Carnage symbiote. He wraps an arm around her slim waist and pulls her tight against his body.
It's a position Kitty always appreciates; tight against Pete's muscular frame.
"You know, seriously, this is all about you. I want your last few weeks at school to be something you remember. I want to be there when you graduate."
Kitty leans into him, her eyes closing. She loves him so much. She wants…
"...to cover him in Tabasco sauce and eat him all up. Yum, yum."
Kitty's eyes snap open. That sounded like…like...it takes her a moment to feel inside her. No. Nothing has changed. She can sense that the symbiote is still dormant. Must have just been her own perverted imagination. After all, what with all the trauma, she hasn't exactly been in the mood for 'snuggley time' meaning it has been awhile since she and Peter were last together.
"So, what's your answer?" Peter wonders. "Not that I've being pushy or anything."
"No. Never you," Kitty jokes. What's her answer? What is it again Illyana has been saying to her? About the light being stronger than the dark. There's no more brilliant light in her life than Peter Parker. And the idea of going out shopping, buying a pretty dress...it stirs awake the parts of Kitty the symbiote threatened to put completely into the shade. "Ok."
"Ok?"
"Yeah...but with one condition?"
"Name it," Peter agrees without hesitation, elated he's gotten her to agree.
"You have to let me pick what you wear. I, like, will not have us totally clashing," she insists, utilising her old 'Valley Girl' persona.
"What do I look like, Barbie?" Peter asks in mock complaint.
Kitty ruffles his hair, a twisted grin on her face. "Of course not, sweetie. You are a whole other plaything," she cackles.
And Peter has to look twice at her. He has only seen that twisted grin once before. He has only heard her laugh like that once before. When she was Carnage. And his elation from only moments ago turns into worry and, yes fear. What is going on with her?
At the Institute, Prom Night...
Later that week this year's graduating class was getting ready for their Prom. They meet up in the Foyer before they depart. This is mostly so photos can be taken and Dom can wolf-whistle at everyone….much to the embarrassment of her sister.
"Must ya?" Rogue complains in her deep southern drawl.
"Yes. Ah must," Dom says in an imitation southern drawl, along with an infuriating smirk. "Besides what with you denying me the opportunity..."
"Why on Earth would ah want ta go ta Prom?" Rogue asks bluntly. "In case it escaped yer notice ah'm single...and ah ain't goin 'stag'."
"Yes. Why are you single?" Dom wonders, eyeing the brown-haired young woman carefully.
Rogue rolls her eyes. "Maybe because ah can't touch anyone. Did ya forget that?" she asks rhetorically, waving a gloved hand in the air.
"Do the words 'power inhibitors' ring a bell?"
"No," Rogue says sharply, shaking her head. "Ah won't wear one of those," she utterly refuses.
"Why not? Once upon a time..."
"Ah would have done so without hesitation," Rogue can finish. "True...but ah nevah approved of tha dang things. Even putting aside whatevah mental state ah was in at tha tahme ah still think they're a mistake. No, Dom. Ah had control of mah powahs once. Ah will find a way ta do so again without any blasted technology. Tha Professor teaches we must accept who and what we are. Well this is meh accepting who and what ah am."
For once Dom is speechless in response to that.
One Amanda Sefton sighs slightly at the sight of her boyfriend. Not that he doesn't look scrumptious because he does. She would devour him up in a second. She blushes at the direction her thoughts are heading.
No what has her sighing is the one thing that still bothers her about Kurt. She raises a hand and rubs his cheek, feeling the smooth fur underneath. "Kurt, when are you going to show everyone what you look like?" the words just spill out of her mouth. She is referring, of course, to the fact that Kurt, still, hides under a holowatch. She's beginning to think he uses it like a comfort blanket.
Kurt looks at her in surprise. This is kinda sudden. "Mandi...I don't know...vhat you vant me to say to zhat," he struggles with a response.
"I don't want to start a fight, Kurt," she explains, "but I just don't understand why you keep hiding."
"I zhink you do," Kurt replies.
"Others don't. Dr McCoy doesn't. Chloe doesn't," she lists two examples, gesturing at said golden skinned girl.
"Oh hell no. I am so not getting sucked into this," Chloe mutters under her breath. Not just because it's awful being caught in the middle of an argument that really doesn't involve you but it'll bring up issues of her own lack of self-confidence in her appearance.
"Mandi," Kurt pleads because, like her, he doesn't want to have a fight just before Prom.
"Forget it," Amanda decides to drop it. "I don't want to ruin our night. It just...frustrates me Kurt," she tells him.
Frustrates him too.
"Have to say, dude, you scrub up nicely," Bart is saying to his roommate as they wait.
Clark fiddles with his bow-tie. Hates these things. Seriously does. "Thanks Bart."
Martha makes a noise of exasperation at Clark's tie fiddling, slaps his hands away and fixes it herself. Though, of course, she's ecstatically happy seeing her son like this. She's noticed these last few weeks, how much closer to his old self he has seemed. The haunted look in his eyes has lessened. Not faded completely but he's clearly happier than he was. She's not entirely sure what's happened. She can guess Jean. If true Martha is very grateful to the redhead.
"Peter, stop fidgeting," a stern voice tells off once Peter Parker as he gets his tie sorted.
"Yeah, Peter. Stop fidgeting," a voice repeats in gleeful mocking.
Peter glares at his twin sister as his aunt fixes his tie. "Why are you here?" he asks her.
"Well as a fast grown clone I, sadly, won't get this experience for myself so I have to live vicariously through you."
"Could you keep your voice down?" Peter asks her. "Not everyone knows the truth you know," he reminds her that not everyone at the mansion is aware that he is Spider-Man and that Jess is his clone.
"Oops, sorry," she contritely says, nasally.
"There," Aunt May says as she finishes her work, smiling proudly at her nephew. This is the 2nd last major event of his school life. Only graduation after this. And then off to college. "You've grown up so fast," she says with that nostalgic sadness.
Jess snorts. "Try being me," she mumbles. If anyone knows about growing fast, its her...and her sibling clones.
What sounds like an argument drags everyone's attention to the stairs as a certain fiery redhead walks down, dressed in her usual reds and oranges. Claire is complaining about something or other. "Why did I agree to this again?" she snorts. "I hate dresses. I hate heels and I hate all the little snide whispered comments by the homophobic, mutant hating gits behind my back when they think I'm not listening."
Her girlfriend, the beautifully elegantly dressed in a white ankle length dress, Marie-Ange Colbert ain't looking too impressed by that. "Oh you are going, sweetie," she says in no nonsense tones, her French accent coming through strongly as she makes no effort to restrain it. "I've put way too much effort in to allow this," gesturing at herself, "to go to waste."
Well Claire will admit her girlfriend was absolutely stunning. From the dress, to the make up, to the way her hair is pinned up apart from a few soft curls framing her face.
"Geez is it her time of the month or something," comes one idiotic comment.
"Drake!" Claire snaps in fury at her icy nemesis, flames licking over the surface of her skin.
Chloe smacks her idiot boyfriend over the back of the head before this gets out of hand.
"Ow! Hey! What was that for?!" Bobby complains, as he rubs his head.
"I seriously shouldn't have to explain it," Chloe says at him, moodily. "But just to be clear; you," she points at him, "do not get to make stupid comments over something you don't understand. Men," Chloe snorts derisively about the whole male species. "You have no idea what a woman's period is like."
"Got that right," Jubilee remarks to her roommate, Paige while she blows one of her bubbles.
Paige nods along.
"Thanks you Chloe," Claire says, her temper fading just enough so her dress isn't ruined.
"Oui. Merci," Marie joins in.
"Oh don't do that," Claire complains. "You know what you speaking French does to me," she reminds her oh so hot girlfriend.
"Oui. Je fais," Marie says with a sneaky, evil smirk. Remember, former Hellion here. She also knows her accent and her language makes her girlfriend go weak at the knees. Not to mention the effect it has when she whispers sweet nothings into Claire's ear when they're alone in bed. A pleasant shiver goes through the French girl at the memory. She will have to do that again later.
Claire groans in a mixture of annoyance and sexual frustration. She's going to be turned on all night long if Marie keeps this up.
Marie, meanwhile, just smiles very self-satisfied at herself.
"Hummina, hummina, hummina," Bart suddenly muses.
It makes Clark snap his eyes upward and almost repeat his friend's words. Almost. Because there, walking down the stairs in his girlfriend, a vision of loveliness that is hard to describe. A strapless blue dress, split up the side, showing off a generous amount of smooth, unblemished flesh. This is not helping his self-restraint considering his mind has already been wandering into the area of sleeping with Jean. Combined with the fact he already knows what Jean looks like under that(thanks to malfunctioning x-ray vision when Kevin blanked his mind) this could be a very long night.
Jean can't help but smirk at the way Clark's eyes drink her in. It's a power only a confident woman can project. "Well Clark, what do you think?" she asks as she reaches the bottom of the stairs, giving him a little twirl.
"Trying not to repeat anything I said to Rogue considering she's 5 feet away and can hear me."
Jean laughs, light and happy. It was not the expected thing to say.
"New dress?" he queries. "It's not your usual colour," he notes. Jean is more into greens and golds. Reds occasionally.
"No but I do happen to know that blue is the favourite colour of someone I happen to like...quite a bit actually."
Clark's face adopts a goofy smile. "He kinda likes red too," he says adoringly, his hand gently brushing a few of her red locks back. She had left her hair loose.
"Ah. Lucky coincidence then," Jean smiles.
Clark leans down and kisses her cheek softly. "You look amazing," he tells her the truth.
"Not so bad yourself," Jean whispers back, unable not to admire Clark dressed up, taking a moment to smooth his jacket down and feel the hard muscles underneath. Muscles she's been fantasising about touching lately without clothes in the way. She has to bite her lower lip for a moment. 'Later, Jean. Later,' she thinks to herself.
Clark bites back a moan before it escapes him. Jean's hands on him...again, not helping his self-restraint. Luckily he is distracted by the next Prom attendee making her appearance. Kitty.
Usually Peter loves to see his beautiful girlfriend in whatever she chooses to dress up in but tonight, the second he saw her, it was not awestruck at her appearance he feels. It's instant concern. The dress she is...it's a little more risqué than Kitty would normally choose, showing off more flesh and more worryingly is its colour. Not the usual light blues or pinks Kitty tends to prefer. If Peter was going to choose a colour for it he would call it blood red with black trimming. The colours of the Carnage symbiote.
"So what do you think?" Kitty asks him, giving him a little twirl.
What does he say? Raise it directly or ask in a roundabout way. Considering all the people present he goes for the latter option. "It's...a different colour than you usually go for," he mentions.
"I know," Kitty says with a nods, acknowledging his point. "But when I saw it I knew I had to have it. It just called to something inside me, you know."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Peter mutters to himself.
"What?"
"Nothing. Nothing," Peter chooses not to raise it. "Just my usual babbling to myself," he dismisses it as. "You look gorgeous," he compliments her.
"Of course I do," Kitty says as if it is obvious. She leans in and gives him a kiss. "And I must say Mr Parker you are looking pretty dapper yourself," she comments with a cheerfulness that she's been lacking for weeks. On another day Peter would have been happy to see that change in her but now he has a nagging worry.
"Well I can only do so much with what nature blessed me with," he says in his joky, self-deprecating manner.
Kitty looks at him hungrily, as if she's a predator and he's her prey. "Oh, I happen to think nature gifted you well enough. I may just have to eat you all up later."
Ok, phrases like that, spoken in that tone...worrying him greatly here. "So are we all going now?" Peter asks aloud, deciding to change topic.
They do go after numerous pictures are taken, preserving the memories. The couples walk arm in arm to the varying hired cars.
"You know, maybe later we could go swinging together," Kitty mentions to him in a low voice.
"What?" Peter asks, looking at her. What does she mean by together? Like her swinging around too? Like she has the ability to do so? Like with Carn...
"You know web-slinging with me in your arms. You know how much I love that," Kitty corrects him, cutting off his depressing train of thought.
"Right, yes of course. That's what you meant," Peter says, relieved.
Kitty looks at him confused. "Of course I did. What else would I mean?"
"Nothing. Nothing," Peter says, his voice pitch too high.
"Pete, are you feeling alright? You're acting really strange," Kitty has to say.
"Me? I'm fine. I'm going to Prom with the prettiest girl in the world. How can I not be fine?"
"That's a good point," Kitty says, allowing her ego to shine through. She kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks for talking me into going. I'm sure it'll be great...as long as no-one else is wearing this dress because if they are I may just have to skin them alive," she says with a calmness that is so not Kitty.
Peter looks at her oddly just as they near their car.
"Pete, is something wrong?"she asks as if not realising what she just said and therefore unable to decipher his odd expression.
"Um, no. Not at all. Everything's fine. You were saying something about matching dresses?" he chickens out of confronting her directly. He's a coward. He knows. He's just afraid...terrified of what is happening to her.
"Yeah. God, do you know how awkward that is? Of course you don't. You're a boy. Sorry, I forgot," she waves her hand dismissively, sounding just like normal Kitty again.
She really doesn't realise what she just said, Peter can see. And he will raise this later but not right now. He won't ruin tonight...but tomorrow. Tomorrow is going to be a whole other day.
Clark helps Jean into their car, neither noticing a foul looking young man in red sunglasses. A man, who last year was the one taking Jean to Prom. Who, last year, was getting that smile of adoration. Who dearly wishes he could get her to give him that smile once again.
Alright yes. Scott Summers is jealous. He had tried to deny it to himself for weeks but seeing Jean looking absolutely breathtaking, going through all that effort to make herself beautiful(not that she really needs to) and seeing all of her affection aimed not at him but his friend…he really could not any longer deny just how deep the jealousy bug had bitten.
This was all Jean's twin's fault. That damn hypnotic necklace, making them all 'love' what they thought was Jean had re-awakened his feelings that never went away in the 1st place. He did love Jean and Emma…
Don't really get Scott started. Emma and his feelings for the blond have always been complicated.
He knows he takes some blame on his and Jean's break-up and he had accepted they were apart but that was when she was single. Now she wasn't…
Gah!
He has got to get out of here. If he has to stay, sit around and imagine what Jean and Clark are doing he'll go insane. Doubly so because there really is nothing he can do about it. Scott isn't so much of a douche that he would try and break Clark and Jean up.
Nope.
He's just going to have stand by the side, watch and suffer.
It's like Duncan Matthews all over again.
God Scott cannot wait until he is 21. At least then he can follow Logan's sterling example and drink his problems away.
And yes, that's not a healthy attitude. He knows!
In the meantime he'll just have to do with taking a long drive. Preferably far away from here.
Elsewhere in Bayville...
SHIELD Commander Maria Hill walks into a compound where heavy construction vehicles are kept. From the outside this would seem to be a bit odd but she is here on a particular task.
She stops in the midst of the varying vehicles. "The Creator is here," she says. "You know the task required of you. The Kryptonian will not be able to resist to appear and protect these human creatures. Lure him into the open and the human primitives will do our work for us."
For several moments nothing happens. Then a digger's engine starts up and its headlights turn on. Then a truck does the same. Then a bulldozer. A crane and so on until every vehicle there starts as if alive.
For a robotic duplicate it is very disturbing when a tiny, almost human-like smirk appears on Hill's face.
Bayville High...
Jean was snuggled incredibly close to Clark as they sway gently to a slow dance. She immerses herself in his warm, solid frame, his deep and wonderful earthy scene. She feels so completely at peace like this. She can just imagine waking up like this, snuggled into Clark after...well she knows how she wants this night to end. And there is no reason it won't as far as she can see. The barriers, the masks, after Smallville, Clark has been pulling them down for her. She's ready. Oh so ready...but she'll stamp down her libido for a little bit longer. She wants Clark to have his Prom as a nice memory to cherish. She sighs pleasantly as Clark holds her sweetly and securely into himself.
Talking of stamping down libidos, Clark is doing his best because seriously. He has Jean Grey, supermodel looks and body pressed right up against him but he is controlling it. There is something also equally satisfying about just holding close the girl you care deeply for. Clark has not attempted to analyse his emotions further than that. Though he will say that Jean was right many weeks ago when they started this. About sharing burdens. Since he began to open up to his emotional pain and share it with her, he has felt lighter. Not healed by any means but better than before.
For both there is also the simple pleasure of companionship. Before Clark, Jean hadn't dated anyone since her break-up with Scott, months and months ago. And as for Clark...well trying not to relive his appalling dating record would be nice.
When the dance ends Jean goes off to the bathroom to refresh herself. She takes a moment to look in the mirror and smiles at how glowing she looks. Yeah, she's not an ego-maniac or that vain but now and again even she is allowed to appreciate the fact she looks good.
"Grey," comes an annoyed sounding tone.
Jean glances to her left and finds the 3 'It' girls of Bayville High. Tempest, Tyler and Carly have entered the bathroom. "Ladies," she greets them with forced politeness.
The blond girls sneer slightly. "What do you think you are doing back here, Grey?" Tempest, the leader of the 3 demands to know.
Jean turns to face them and folds her arms across her chest. "I think I'm accompanying my boyfriend to his Prom night," the redhead replies, unable to hold back the condescension in her voice.
The 3 girls move to surround and intimidate Jean. Tempest gets right in her face. "Your days here are over."
"So are yours soon," Jean points out. "What will you do out in the real world where your, ahem, skills won't get you to the top like you think?"
"Nothing will change," Tempest claims.
"You keep telling yourself that."
"It's wrong for people like you," Tyler says nastily, "to be allowed to corrupt poor, normal people like Clark Kent."
Jean laughs. "That is pathetic. You've had 3 years of Clark attending this school to get somewhere with him. Guess what, he sees right through you for what you really are...as do I. Just a bunch of spoiled bullies."
"Better than being some genetic freak," Carly sneers.
Jean arches an eyebrow. "Well let me tell you something about this 'genetic freak'," she begins. "She is no longer a student of this school which means she is no longer subject to the 'no powers' rule and you 3 happen to be alone with her," she lays the situation out even as a terribly evil little smirk forms on her face. It almost looks unnatural on Jean's face. Then again everyone has evil in them. A darkness. Jean is no different.
The 3 girls take a step back...but its far too late. Five minutes after Jean departs the bathroom so do they...utterly soaked, make-up ruined and so, so not ever mentioning this to anyone...except the therapists they're all going to need.
While Jean is 'freshening up' Clark finds himself chatting to his 'boss'. That would be the ever vivacious editor of the school paper; Iris West.
"Just so you know, Kent, a late night here does not excuse a late article," Iris says with a smirk.
"Slave driver," Clark playfully grumbles.
Iris chortles.
"Why are you even here?" Clark wonders. "You don't graduate for another year yet."
"I assigned myself to reporting on it for the paper tomorrow. After all my best reporter is leaving us and I need to get use to him not being here."
"Well I don't say no to compliments even if I am modest."
"I was talking about Steve," she shoots him down.
"I so walked right into that," Clark says, his eyes looking to the heavens.
Iris playfully nudges him while laughing and Clark joins in. He will miss the brown-haired girl once he's gone. Truly.
That's when Jean returns, smiling at seeing Clark so happy and relaxed. It's something he's not been for far too long.
"Hey," Clark greets her with a kiss.
"Hey yourself. Um hi...Iris isn't it?" Jean greets the wannabe reporter, unsure if she's remembering the name right. The girl was Clark's friend, not Jean's.
"It is indeed. Hello, Jean...and I'll make myself scarce before I become a 3rd wheel," Iris excuses herself.
"You don't need to do that," Jean assures her that she's not unwanted.
"No. Really I do. I was just having a break. I've got to make sure everything is covered for the school paper Prom Special," Iris explains before walking off. She stops, turns around and points at Clark. "Just remember Kent, no excuses for late submissions. I can still give you bad references if anyone asks."
Clark rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah I hear ya. I hear..." he suddenly stops and his head snaps to the left.
"Clark?" Jean queries at the sudden tension in his body.
Before he can explain anything the wall he is looking at is smashed in and chaos ignites as various demolition vehicles attack the structure.
What amazes more is that they speak.
"...Bzzt, Human...creatures..."
"...seek...one like us..."
"...time has come..."
"...Saviour is here..."
"...The Collection has begun..."
Jean watches Clark's jaw twitch with tension before he utters a single word. "Metaleks."
Author's Note: I did toy with the idea of putting Jean in the Dark Phoenix colours, red and gold, for her dress, almost hinting at it but it just didn't quite make sense to do it right now so I transferred the idea over to Kitty to hint at that perhaps Carnage is beginning to re-emerge. Thanks to everyone who wrote reviews. Next up; Enter...the Collector part 3, it begins.