A/N: Ok, the book that Jean keeps referring to later is "Kissed by an
Angel" and Tristan and Ivy are the two main characters; two teens that fall
in love, like seriously in love, they would die for one another. Do you
think I need more Danger Room scenes in this chapter, or is it good?
Anyways, hope you like it!
************************************************************************
"Alright, there are two guards, one on the west walkway, and one on the lower boardwalk." Cyclops spoke into his transmitter, waiting for the crackling reply.
"Not any more," came the high-pitched response, "Rogue just tapped out the one on the boardwalk." Shadowcat stated proudly. "I can take her in through the East wall if you like, we can deactivate the alarm."
"No need, the spike man's got it all taken care of!" Spyke's voice called through the communicator. He stood positioned atop a pyramid of wooden crates, a large spike clasped in his outstretched hand. "Steady, Evan, you can do this." Sweat trickled down his face as he closed his left eye tightly, trying to get the perfect aim. Pulling his arm back, then pushing it forward, Spyke let the spike fly, landing perfectly on target in the power box, disconnecting the many wires and shutting off the electricity in the warehouse; including the alarm.
"Nice one, Spyke!"
"Yes!" Spyke pumped his fist up in the air in a typical guy fashion.
"It ain't that easy, bub." A emotionless voice came from behind Spyke.
"Huh?" He whirled around. "Cyclops! The guard from the west walkway, he- " the transmitter went dead.
"Dang! We've lost another one!" Scott broadcasted to the remaining others.
"Cyclops, the vest vall iz clear. Ve can teleport there."
Cyclops turned to his friend. "All right, Nightcrawler, let's just hope we're not too late."
********************************Meanwhile*******************************
Evan groaned as Logan threw him out of the Danger Room. "I can't believe I'm out already!" He moaned, facing the disassembled heap of new recruits before him.
"At least you lasted longer than us." Bobby Drake winced, sending icicles shooting out at the others. "Oops, sorry 'bout that." But the other mutants were too tired to notice.
"Why are we being put through such intense training?" Rahne questioned.
"With a maniac like Logan in charge? Who knows." Roberto shrugged, wiping blood off his throbbing lip. "You shoulda heard him when I tripped over that dustbin, you'd think it was the end of the world or somethin'!"
Rahne Sinclair rolled her eyes, "Da Costa, you'd think a go-getter like you would realize that knocking over dustbins causes a racket that would give us all away."
"Well excu-use me for being human!"
Sam Guthrie shook his head as the bickering between Wolfsbane and Sunspot continued. "You'd think they'd learn that this fighting is getting them nowhere."
Amara shrugged, "My cousin used to fight all the time with this one guy. Just like Rahne and Roberto."
"So?"
"They're married now."
Roberto and Rahne exchanged looks of mixed horror and disgust, then quickly edged away from one another.
Jubilee giggled, "You know, they would make a cute couple."
"Hey!" Roberto's face began to flame, as did the rest of his body.
"Yo, watch it man! We don't need a full-out fire outside the Danger Room," Evan held up his hands as is if to ward off the flames.
"If you want a fire you're not going to get it from an amateur like him." Amara Aquilla sounded irritated.
"Hey, meant no offense." Now it was Evan's turn to sound irritated.
Amara had just opened her prissy mouth to retort when Bezerker came sailing through the Danger Room doors, covered in black ash. "Bugger!" he yelled as he glided across the floor, sending everyone into uproarious laughter.
************************************************************************
Jean sat curled up in a squishy blue armchair, her sleek red hair falling over her shoulders as she deeply absorbed the novel she was reading. She was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't notice Scott shifting restlessly at her feet. After training in the Danger Room, the two of them had retired to Jean's room (as it was noticeably neater than Scott's) to work on homework. But has her homework was quickly finished, Jean had disregarded her spot on the plush carpet for the comfort of her reading chair while Scott finished his English essay on the floor. Now that homework was over and done with and strewn across the room, Scott was quickly growing tired with the stoic silence. Tracing his fingers across the corrugated rug, he came across a flat copper disc. Straightening up, Scott flicked the gleaming penny into Jean's lap and whispered, "A penny for your thoughts?"
"A what?" Jean lifted her dream clouded eyes from the love affair between Tristan and Ivy to glance curiously at Scott.
"A penny for your thoughts." Her expression remained blank. "You've never heard of that? What about 'a dime for your dreams'?" She shook her mane of shining hair and set "Kissed by an Angel" aside, interested as to what this concept was that Scott was going on about. "Ok, when someone says 'A penny for your thoughts,' you tell them what you're thinking about in exchange for a penny. It's a neat tradition."
Jean smiled mischievously. "So, you sure you really want to know what I was thinking about?"
"Can't be too x-rated," he retorted coolly, "but you never know, after all, this is the elusive Jean Grey we're talking about."
She blushed, "Alright, if you must know. . . I was thinking about the love between Tristan and Ivy and wondering if I'll ever have anything as strong as that." She sighed wistfully as a tense silence filled the room. "Well," she asked nervously, "what were you thinking about?"
He grinned slyly, "Can't you read my mind?"
Jean drew her thin brows together in concentration. "No fair! You're blocking me out! How do you always do that? Whenever I try to read your mind, it's always blank!"
He laughed, "Years of practice. And what do you mean by 'always' and 'whenever'? How often do you try to read my mind?"
Jean's cheeks flushed under his playful scrutiny. "Only when you get into one of your moods and no one can get through to you."
Scott's face fell, "and I suppose you do this on the Professor's orders?"
"Hey," Jean slid off her chair and onto the floor next to Scott. "Contrary to your beliefs, we care about you too. And no," she shifted her weight, laying her head on Scott's shoulder, "at times like that the Professor tells us to leave you alone. I just like to make sure you're okay. . ."
Scott's warm hand wrapped around Jean's ice-cold fingers and brought them to his lips. "Do you ever see things in people's minds that you wish you hadn't?"
"I don't make it a habit to go around reading people's minds."
"But when you do?"
She sighed, "I guess occasionally, but I don't look into others minds unless I really have to, or" she started, predicting his next question, "when I'm worried about them."
"Are you ever afraid you might not like what you see?"
Jean nodded, her hair spilling over Scott's shoulder and the two of them sat in silence until. . .
"So what were you thinking about?"
"How beautiful you looked."
"Seriously."
"I'm serious. Would you like to read my mind?"
"Would you let me in?"
"I'd do anything for you." And Jean believed him, for at that moment she knew exactly how Ivy felt when she fell in love with Tristan. "Are you going to read it?
"I don't have to, I already know." She stared soulfully into Scott's eyes, looking deeper than just his shades. Tilting his head down, Scott wrapped his arms around Jean's waist and pulled her close.
And music filtered in dimly through the radio in the corner, "I can be your hero, baby, I can kiss away the pain. . ."
************************************************************************
************************************************************************
"Alright, there are two guards, one on the west walkway, and one on the lower boardwalk." Cyclops spoke into his transmitter, waiting for the crackling reply.
"Not any more," came the high-pitched response, "Rogue just tapped out the one on the boardwalk." Shadowcat stated proudly. "I can take her in through the East wall if you like, we can deactivate the alarm."
"No need, the spike man's got it all taken care of!" Spyke's voice called through the communicator. He stood positioned atop a pyramid of wooden crates, a large spike clasped in his outstretched hand. "Steady, Evan, you can do this." Sweat trickled down his face as he closed his left eye tightly, trying to get the perfect aim. Pulling his arm back, then pushing it forward, Spyke let the spike fly, landing perfectly on target in the power box, disconnecting the many wires and shutting off the electricity in the warehouse; including the alarm.
"Nice one, Spyke!"
"Yes!" Spyke pumped his fist up in the air in a typical guy fashion.
"It ain't that easy, bub." A emotionless voice came from behind Spyke.
"Huh?" He whirled around. "Cyclops! The guard from the west walkway, he- " the transmitter went dead.
"Dang! We've lost another one!" Scott broadcasted to the remaining others.
"Cyclops, the vest vall iz clear. Ve can teleport there."
Cyclops turned to his friend. "All right, Nightcrawler, let's just hope we're not too late."
********************************Meanwhile*******************************
Evan groaned as Logan threw him out of the Danger Room. "I can't believe I'm out already!" He moaned, facing the disassembled heap of new recruits before him.
"At least you lasted longer than us." Bobby Drake winced, sending icicles shooting out at the others. "Oops, sorry 'bout that." But the other mutants were too tired to notice.
"Why are we being put through such intense training?" Rahne questioned.
"With a maniac like Logan in charge? Who knows." Roberto shrugged, wiping blood off his throbbing lip. "You shoulda heard him when I tripped over that dustbin, you'd think it was the end of the world or somethin'!"
Rahne Sinclair rolled her eyes, "Da Costa, you'd think a go-getter like you would realize that knocking over dustbins causes a racket that would give us all away."
"Well excu-use me for being human!"
Sam Guthrie shook his head as the bickering between Wolfsbane and Sunspot continued. "You'd think they'd learn that this fighting is getting them nowhere."
Amara shrugged, "My cousin used to fight all the time with this one guy. Just like Rahne and Roberto."
"So?"
"They're married now."
Roberto and Rahne exchanged looks of mixed horror and disgust, then quickly edged away from one another.
Jubilee giggled, "You know, they would make a cute couple."
"Hey!" Roberto's face began to flame, as did the rest of his body.
"Yo, watch it man! We don't need a full-out fire outside the Danger Room," Evan held up his hands as is if to ward off the flames.
"If you want a fire you're not going to get it from an amateur like him." Amara Aquilla sounded irritated.
"Hey, meant no offense." Now it was Evan's turn to sound irritated.
Amara had just opened her prissy mouth to retort when Bezerker came sailing through the Danger Room doors, covered in black ash. "Bugger!" he yelled as he glided across the floor, sending everyone into uproarious laughter.
************************************************************************
Jean sat curled up in a squishy blue armchair, her sleek red hair falling over her shoulders as she deeply absorbed the novel she was reading. She was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't notice Scott shifting restlessly at her feet. After training in the Danger Room, the two of them had retired to Jean's room (as it was noticeably neater than Scott's) to work on homework. But has her homework was quickly finished, Jean had disregarded her spot on the plush carpet for the comfort of her reading chair while Scott finished his English essay on the floor. Now that homework was over and done with and strewn across the room, Scott was quickly growing tired with the stoic silence. Tracing his fingers across the corrugated rug, he came across a flat copper disc. Straightening up, Scott flicked the gleaming penny into Jean's lap and whispered, "A penny for your thoughts?"
"A what?" Jean lifted her dream clouded eyes from the love affair between Tristan and Ivy to glance curiously at Scott.
"A penny for your thoughts." Her expression remained blank. "You've never heard of that? What about 'a dime for your dreams'?" She shook her mane of shining hair and set "Kissed by an Angel" aside, interested as to what this concept was that Scott was going on about. "Ok, when someone says 'A penny for your thoughts,' you tell them what you're thinking about in exchange for a penny. It's a neat tradition."
Jean smiled mischievously. "So, you sure you really want to know what I was thinking about?"
"Can't be too x-rated," he retorted coolly, "but you never know, after all, this is the elusive Jean Grey we're talking about."
She blushed, "Alright, if you must know. . . I was thinking about the love between Tristan and Ivy and wondering if I'll ever have anything as strong as that." She sighed wistfully as a tense silence filled the room. "Well," she asked nervously, "what were you thinking about?"
He grinned slyly, "Can't you read my mind?"
Jean drew her thin brows together in concentration. "No fair! You're blocking me out! How do you always do that? Whenever I try to read your mind, it's always blank!"
He laughed, "Years of practice. And what do you mean by 'always' and 'whenever'? How often do you try to read my mind?"
Jean's cheeks flushed under his playful scrutiny. "Only when you get into one of your moods and no one can get through to you."
Scott's face fell, "and I suppose you do this on the Professor's orders?"
"Hey," Jean slid off her chair and onto the floor next to Scott. "Contrary to your beliefs, we care about you too. And no," she shifted her weight, laying her head on Scott's shoulder, "at times like that the Professor tells us to leave you alone. I just like to make sure you're okay. . ."
Scott's warm hand wrapped around Jean's ice-cold fingers and brought them to his lips. "Do you ever see things in people's minds that you wish you hadn't?"
"I don't make it a habit to go around reading people's minds."
"But when you do?"
She sighed, "I guess occasionally, but I don't look into others minds unless I really have to, or" she started, predicting his next question, "when I'm worried about them."
"Are you ever afraid you might not like what you see?"
Jean nodded, her hair spilling over Scott's shoulder and the two of them sat in silence until. . .
"So what were you thinking about?"
"How beautiful you looked."
"Seriously."
"I'm serious. Would you like to read my mind?"
"Would you let me in?"
"I'd do anything for you." And Jean believed him, for at that moment she knew exactly how Ivy felt when she fell in love with Tristan. "Are you going to read it?
"I don't have to, I already know." She stared soulfully into Scott's eyes, looking deeper than just his shades. Tilting his head down, Scott wrapped his arms around Jean's waist and pulled her close.
And music filtered in dimly through the radio in the corner, "I can be your hero, baby, I can kiss away the pain. . ."
************************************************************************
