They hadn't left the party just yet — the others were still enjoying themselves, oblivious to what had happened. Jean and Scott were sitting alone on the shore next to the pond in the backyard. Scott's jacket was draped around Jean, his arm protectively wrapped around her. His other hand was pressed against her face, wiping the tears away. He had gotten Jean and himself outside without raising any questions. At least no one knew about what had happened, yet, that is.

"...Did he hurt you?" Scott asked finally. Jean didn't say anything but curled in closer while shaking her head. Scott let out a sigh of relief.

"No, Scott. You got there... just in time," Jean said, desperate to be close to Scott. He tightened his grip around her, sending chills down her spine.

"I'm glad. I could never let anything happen to you."

"My hero," she croaked out in jest. He smiled briefly at this, his fingers lightly moving across her arm.

"Mmm, I was just thinking about something..." his voice trailed off as he lost himself in thought. Jean tilted her head, wanting him to go on.

"Well, one night you were asleep and... and... I found your diary Jean—" she shook her head as he said this "—and I read this one entry about you and Duncan—" he gulped "—and how he told you about some things he was going to make you do or something and... I just, I didn't think that he would actually do that." By the end of his confession, Jean had pulled away from him, her legs curled up to her chest, her head resting on her knees.

"You read that, huh?" she said whimsically.

"Yeah... Sorry."

"Oh, no. Don't be sorry. It's okay, really. I— I just didn't think anyone would actually read about my life and take interest in it..." Scott raised his hands in defense and shook his head.

"I didn't mean to pry, really. But, how could someone not find your life interesting?" Jean turned her head sideways to look at him, her lips curled only slightly.

"What else did you read in there?" Scott knew he couldn't lie to her. At least he could get this invasion of privacy off his chest.

"Your first entry about the Institute. And every one of us that was there—" Jean's smile grew as she apparently remembered that entry, "—And um, the one about how you were officially a part of the X-Men... Oh, that was also the entry you said you had a crush on Duncan."

"Duncan? Why would I have a crush on Duncan?" Jean asked honestly as she extended her legs out in front, her head still turned to look at Scott eye to eye — well, generally eye to eye.

"Uh... Well, I, uh.." Before Scott could even say anything, Jean stood up and grasped the jacket around her. Scott questionably followed.

"Can we please go get everyone else, I want to go home."

"Yeah, Jean. That's fine." They started heading towards the house, Jean's head tilted down to shield her face; Scott knew she was still ashamed about what had happened and especially what could have happened if he hadn't have shown up.

"Scott," she called out, stopping dead in her tracks. He turned to look at her, shrugging his shoulders in response.

"Please don't tell them about this." He nodded in reply and walked towards her. His lean, strong hand slipped into hers as she stared up at him blankly.

"I promise, Jean. Don't worry." Jean smiled.

"When I'm with you.. I never do."


Jean had successfully avoided everyone for the remainder of the night, burying her face in the books from the library of the Institute. No one had any idea about what had happened that night during the party. No one except Scott, that is. On her lap was a hardcover copy of Lolita, a novel she treasured. It was different, uncanny, and the character was so thought-provoking. A real head challenge. Kinda like me... Jean thought monotonously. She was desperately trying to get the thoughts of Duncan out of her head. And if it weren't for Scott, he would have...

"Jean?" She instantly looked up from her reading to see Scott's tall silhouette etched out in the doorway. The book on her lap folded closed and fell to the side of her as she crossed her legs.

"You okay?" he asked as he walked closer, the blaze from the fire place illuminating every step he took. She swallowed. Hard. There was no way she could say "no" — that would let him know she was weak. But then again, she felt like she could say "no" and that for once it would be okay. And that it'd be okay for him to hold her just so she could know someone was there that mattered — that cared. By the time she had finished this thought process, he was already standing right in front of her, a concerned and puzzled look plastered across his face.

"No," she said quietly. Scott didn't utter a single word; instead, he knelt in front of her and rested his hands on her legs.

"I don't want you to think on it too much, okay? You know nothing happened, we got you out of there in time. It's going to be okay — just you wait." Jean lifted her hand to his face, sliding it down the side of his jaw line. There was a bit of roughness — a stubble that tickled her fingers as she cupped his face gratefully. He still looked striking.

"I'll be fine. It's just going to take a while, I think."

"Can I help?" he questioned, his sunglasses reflecting the blaze from the fireplace. It magnified his features for some reason. She liked it.

"I guess I could go for some ice cream."

"Ice cream, eh? Well, I can help with that," Scott said with a wink. She slid off the chair and onto the floor next to him. Even if they were both sitting, he still towered over her. He stood up awkwardly, shifting his weight from side to side until he was finally balanced. His arm extended down to help Jean up, who made sure to keep her fingers intertwined with his as they walked to the kitchen. After they were staring into the freezer, they made their selection of plain vanilla and began digging in.

"Hmph," Jean snorted stiffly, "Remember when we would sneak down here for ice cream, when we were younger?" Scott chuckled and nodded in reply.

"Oh yeah, definitely. And I remember when Logan caught us that one time. For some reason he got so mad." Jean's laugh grew.

"Yeah, well... I miss those days." At that, Scott shook his head forcefully.

"You're wrong — we still have them." The thought struck Jean hard; she couldn't help but keep it on her mind. She was so blind lately — blinder than Scott had ever been. She didn't realize or understand a lot of things and this added to the pile. After they had cleared half of the carton they retreated to Scott's room where they sat cross-legged on his bed, facing each other.

"Um, Jean. Can I... I can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?" Scott blurted out, unable to contain the question inside any longer.

"I don't see why not... Why do you ask?" He gulped.

"I uh... I uh... I just, I just think that you deserve to be treated right and I'd like to make up for what Duncan did to you," he said hastily. Jean felt flushed and light-headed. She really was blind not to see Scott's crush on her. So what ever happened to the one she had on him? Truth be told, Jean still had one — she had always had one on him. And the fact that some popular jock was actually interested in her kept her away from that truth. Now, more then ever, she wished she could take back everything about Duncan.

"Thanks. I'd love to," she said finally. His entire face lit up as he embraced her tightly. It was impossible for her to not hug him back. They held each other for long moments, cherishing every moment of the embrace. Jean's body felt so electrified when she was being held by Scott — his muscular arms secular fixed around her. It made her feel infinite. And like nothing else mattered. Does he feel the same...?

"Do you mind if I sleep in here again?" she inquired hopefully, knowing that he probably couldn't say no to that request. He nodded, though his face looked slightly scared; she was sure of what. Regardless, it was satisfying to know she'd be protected tonight.


"Don't think my room's gonna become some official lodging for you though," Scott said in jest as Jean turned off the lights with her telepathy. She giggled and rolled over, beaming at him.

"Just know that I'm the resident bum who stays here whenever she pleases." She could hear him snickering under his breath.

"No complaints here, no complaints." Jean scooted in closer, pressing herself against Scott's body. His chest was bare, his lower half clad only in boxer shorts. And her own skin was relatively bare (a tank top and shorts), letting them experience the warmth of each other more easily. She felt so alive.

The night had been surreal and even if she didn't want some of the parts to be true, she knew that other things wouldn't have happened otherwise. Scott was there to protect her just in time due to a mindlink he received. She didn't tell him, however, that she hadn't sent him the mind link. The only thing running through her mind as Duncan tried to deflower her was Scott; how Duncan wasn't right, how she needed Scott there, how she wanted Scott there.

"I'm so naive," Jean said, her voice barely above a whisper. Strands of fiery hair were strewn across Scott's chest, tickling him as she shifted her head. He looked down at her curiously.

"Mm, it's nothing..." she said, unaware that her comment had been spoken, rather than thought.

"No, not 'nothing.' What in the hell are you naive about?"

"You."

Somehow, Scott had taken that the wrong way. All Jean wanted was to say that she had no idea he was so enamored with her. But that would be presumptuous of her and she didn't want to deal with that right now. In hopes to repair the comment somehow, she slipped his hand into hers and brought it to her pouty lips. They softly brushed his knuckles and fingers before he quickly jerked his hand away.

"W-what are you doing?" The last thing he needed was for her to lead him on again. Or for him to feel like he was taking advantage of her vulnerability.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she paused for a moment to recollect her thoughts. Jean inhaled deeply before resuming, "You are everything to me, Scott. My best friend — the most wonderful friend in the world. And I just, I don't know why I never pursued it to something more." She could feel his body grow stiff next to hers, the muscle in his arm twitching slightly.

"We can talk about this tomorrow over dinner. We need some rest."

"Right... sleep. Sure," Jean retorted sarcastically. Scott rolled on his side and wrapped his arms around Jean, holding her close to him. The sarcasm melted away with his embrace.

Jean was all Scott could feel. And Scott was all Jean could feel. For once, everything felt right.



This chapter was more awkward to write than I imagined. It's strange, really. But that's okay. I promise more chapters soon. I'm trying to shift it to the romance now — the drama was just setting it up, I guess. Har har.

- Sarah