Disclaimer: Anyone or anything you recognize the name from a Marvel comic book, does not belong to me. I have no money, sue if you want you can't get blood from a stone. Any likeness of people you recognize, I may know them as well and they know I have no money and they can't get anything from me.
A Quiet RainyWeekend; Part 3
By
NoHaven
The rain continued to fall on the property of Xavier's School for the gifted. On the eastern side of the campus two individuals sat on the porch of the boathouse, they sat in silence staring at Lake Breakstone. Finally after an hour and half Logan lifted his head, turning towards Jean and spoke.
"Jeanie darlin, I know we have to talk about this, and I'm fine with talking about it later, but I need to get out of here. I need to take a ride and clear my head." He quietly commented.
"I understand Logan…go, do what you have to." She choked out. "I knew you would need to do this. Just please come back." She whispered.
Standing in the doorway Logan looked over his shoulder and quietly commented "Don't worry Darlin, I'll be back." With that he strode through the inside of the boathouse, leaving through the main door quietly he strode slowly across the wet lawn towards the mansion.
As he approached the mansion he saw the evidence of how the previous night had began, over a case of empty beer bottles sat on a small wicker table. The reminder was not what he had needed to see at this moment, he reached down picking up the letter he had written to Jubilee. He walked into the kitchen; passing through it quickly he reached the stairs and slowly started ascending the staircase when a voice called from behind him.
"Logan, I think we need to speak about what happened last night."
"Listen Chuck, what happened last night is none of your concern, just leave it at that." He growled at the older man.
"I suppose it isn't, but none the less I do not approve." He said with a tone of authority.
"I wouldn't have thought you would. Still ain't you concern." Logan replied, turning to continue up the staircase effectively ending the conversation. The Professor turned quietly and returned to his study without any further comment.
A short while later again strode down the staircase, walking out the front door he walked to his jeep climbed in and started the engine. With a roar the engine started, he popped it into gear and sped off through the front gate. Watching from the front door, Jean wiped tears from her face.
--
New York City
She had walked all night and still she couldn't bring herself to rationalize what she had done to Piotr. He had treated her like a queen, he had been kind and loving, he had shown her what life as a normal human being was like and she had walked out on him. She had just walked out, she had seen the pain in his eyes when she did so and it caused an ache in her soul.
The tears streamed down her face, blending with the falling rain. What could she possible say to Piotr to make this right? Was Piotr even what she really wanted? Her thoughts drifted to Remy, he had deceived her, and their relationship was rocky at best, but she had loved him. When she had decided to leave for New York saying that she was going to visit Bobby he hadn't even raised a question, but he also hadn't asked to go with her or for her to stay with him. He knew that quiet times like this were rare in their profession, and he still hadn't even asked for her to do either. Piotr had, even though she had originally turned him down at least he had asked. Remy had always kept things hidden, Piotr had laid it all on the line. Piotr had wanted to know about her, what her favorite book was, her favorite movie, her favorite song, he had asked about her childhood and knew when to back off when she had said nothing. Remy had never tried to learn anything about her; he just tried to be with her.
Yet as much as she cared for Piotr, as much as he had swept her off her feet yesterday and last night, her feelings for Remy were still there, mocking her.
Sitting on a park bench she threw her face into her hands and sobbed. What made this all worse is that there was no one she could talk to about this. Not Jean, not Logan, not Ororo, not Raven, because none of them were around and she didn't know where they were.
---
Xavier's
Jean sat in her room staring out her window, had last night really been a mistake? She had loved waking and seeing Logan, his smell throughout the boathouse, even the smell of those wretched cigars. But why had she done it, she loved Scott and she always had; yet last night with Logan had been special. She was kicking herself, she had scared him, and she knew he would leave, she knew it deep down, and now the only question was would he return or had she just lost one of her closest friends. She wished that there were someone she could talk to; she wished that she would see Logan's battered Jeep come roaring up the driveway. She also wished that she could feel Scott's thoughts there in her mind again.
Charles had tried to talk to her about what had happened last night but it had come off as a lecture. She didn't need a lecture she needed someone to listen to her, their had been so few she trusted to do this in her life. Ororo, she was like a sister to her and Ororo always seemed to know when to speak and when to listen. Scott, he was her love, he was always willing to listen to her. Logan, he was one of her truest friends, he would listen and say what he meant, what he felt, and she had scared him away.
---
Somewhere on the New York Thruway, a battered old Red Jeep sped along its driver lost in contemplation.
Had it been stupid? Why had he given in to his animal urges? She was drunk and vulnerable and he had taken advantage of her. He knew she loved Scott, and always would, and he would always be the fallback, the friend. While he hadn't been ok with that in the past he had accepted it, but last night he hadn't been second fiddle. For the first time ever he had felt that she had loved him the way he loved her, unconditionally.
SLAM, SLAM, SLAM
He slammed his fist on the steering wheel and stared off into the distance, now he was just confused, he would not, could not go back to being second fiddle. He felt he was going to lose the woman he loved, lose her not only as a lover, but also as a friend.
Still not quite where I'm going on this one, PLEASE give some feedback.