The light green...? The pink-striped one? Jean thought to herself, frantic that her outing — Okay, okay, date — with Scott was only 10 minutes away. Unfortunately, she cared so much about this definitive 'date' primarily because she had a feeling something would result. Something much bigger than a friendship. It left her deathly anxious — and frantic. She heard a knock on the door.
"Just a minute!" she called, slipping the pink-striped skirt on and fastening the clasp at her hip. She walked hastily to the door and latched it open. Scott was barely an inch from her; it caught her off guard.
"You're early! So don't even say anything about me being late! I need five more minutes so don't think that you can—" but Jean was cut off unexpectedly. Scott pressed his desiring lips against her startled ones. Jean froze. Scott rested his hands on her shoulders, then ran them down the side of her arm, behind her back. Before she had time to react for herself, Jean felt herself surrendering to the kiss. Her hand slipped behind his neck, her fingers interlocking with his brunette strands. The pressure of their kiss increased, her hand pressing hard against the back of his head, his tongue slowly gliding into her mouth, hers mirroring the assault. Scott's fingers were gliding up her back, tickling her slightly. Before she could control her telekinesis, she could hear Scott's thoughts pounding in her head.
All I ever wanted... Now... Yes... Jean... Perfect.
The last comment brought reality crashing down around her. She pulled away, regrettably. Scott stared down at her, confused, in awe, alive. She couldn't pinpoint what he was feeling. Except that he was grinning ridiculously. Jean felt sick.
"Scott, I..." he hushed her by pressing his finger gently against her mouth. He took her hand in his and led her down the halls, outside and to the garage. He opened the door of his car for her, then jumped into his seat and had them on the road in no time, the grin still stuck on his face.
"Well," she finally said, to break the silence between them. The sound of the engine and the breeze was beginning to annoy her, "Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked. He glanced over to her, his grin finally gone, one eyebrow arched. He then turned his focus back to the road.
"What do you want me to say?"
"What was that, Scott?"
"Well, Jean. Sometimes, they call it a kiss." Jean threw her hands up in frustration and huffed to show her dislike for his answer.
"Don't act that way, it's unflattering," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. He glanced over at her once more, this time with an amused smirk across his face. Scott chuckled.
"You're so cute when you're angry."
"Drive, Scott. Just drive."
"Yes, ma'am."
Scott parked the car in front of Proietti's, a quaint Italian restaurant that Jean had always loved. The tables were lit by candles, the walls decorated with even more candles; all the while, soft jazz music played in the backdrop. Scott guided her to a table, his arm draped over her shoulders. No matter how hard she thought she didn't want his arm there, her body didn't resist once. They sat down at their table; Jean immediately hid her face behind the menu.
"Why the attitude? I thought you liked this place," Scott said, wanting Jean to lighten up.
"I do," she snapped back from behind the menu, "But," she set the menu down, "how can you expect me to not be like this after that little stunt you pulled?"
"Stunt? Jean... Jean, it was just a kiss."
"Ugh! 'Just a kiss,' you say? Scott, that wasn't just a kiss, that was—"
"The best kiss you've ever had. Admit it," Scott said lightly. She scowled.
"You can't make me, Mr. Summers."
"So you did like it! See!" Scott said triumphantly, smiling all the while.
"I never said that!"
"Sure," he teased.
"I didn't," she muttered under her breath. The menu shot up in front of her once again as she tried to separate herself from the conversation. Why are you lying to yourself, Jean? she scolded. She laid the menu back down, startled to see that Scott was in the exact same position, his smile unwavering.
"Maybe a little," she admitted sheepishly, her leg crossing over the other as she said this. It knocked against Scott's foot, who took the opportunity to slide in closer and massage his khaki-clad leg against her bare one. He rested his chin in his hand.
"Just a little?"
"Maybe a lot," Jean said finally, Scott's smile growing (if that was even possible at this point).
"Are you playing footsie with me, Mr. Summers?" she asked in jest, cocking her head back. He didn't say anything. Instead, he took her hand and kissed the knuckles lightly.
"Je vous ai aimé depuis le début du temps," he said seductively. Jean raised an eyebrow and pulled her hand away.
"What.. what does that mean?" He put his chin in his hand again, smirking coolly.
"It means that 'yes, I'm playing footsie with you, Jean Grey,'" Jean rolled her eyes.
"Sure it does."
"Really — go ask Remy."
"Oh? He taught you how to say that? Okay, Scott — that's believable."
"Okay, don't believe me," he said defensively.
"Then tell me the truth."
"Fine, fine. I said 'I have loved you since the beginning of time,'" Scott said, his face scared of the coming response. Jean breathed deeply.
"....Really?"
"Yeah, 'really.'"
"Scott..." she stared at him longingly. Somehow, it seemed that the table between him and her was the only thing keeping Jean from jumping into Scott's arms at this very moment.
"What'll it be, kids?" an elderly woman interrupted, who was clearly their waitress. Scott glanced at Jean, then at the waitress, then Jean one more time. Jean smiled. Scott turned to the waitress with a grin:
"Two classic spaghetti dishes, one with extra sauce, and a side of garlic bread. And two waters."
Jean had always wanted someone who would know exactly what she wanted for dinner. Scott was perfect for the part.
After a lively dinner, they retreated to the look-out spot that was thankfully deserted. They had both ignored the comment Scott had said before the waitress had come into the picture. For some reason, neither of them could bring themselves to talking about that awkward moment. Jean desperately wanted to, now more than ever. Scott parked the car and popped the trunk. He went around the back, grabbed a blanket and laid it out across the ground. Jean got out of the car tentatively and stared suspiciously at blanket.
"You planned this, didn't you?"
"I hoped for it," he replied cockily, plopping himself onto his brilliant plan (the blanket). Hesitantly, Jean sat down stiffly next to him. It took everything in her power to keep her from pinning him to the ground and kissing him endlessly.
"So..."
"What?"
"What's going on, Scott?"
"Uh, well, uh..."
"Wait, you know what — don't answer that," she said quickly. On impulse, Jean did what she thought she could not. She thrust herself forward, stopping only because of the pleasant impact with his lips. It's my turn to startle you Jean sent to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Scott leaned in, holding Jean tightly within his protective arms. He then slid his hands up her side, one cupping her neck, the other holding her jaw, in hopes to draw her in. She submitted herself to him, letting her body melt with his. The kiss lasted for an eternity; at least that's how long it felt for Scott. It was everything he had ever wanted — Jean Grey. In the flesh. Openly kissing him. The real thing. It was impossible for him to not get overly excited; his entire body trembled with anxiousness. Jean dug her hand into his back before pulling away from the kiss that she hoped would never end. They left their foreheads pressed together, both their noses nuzzling every so often. Jean sighed heavily, her eyes staring straight into Scott's shielded ones.
"Is it safe for me to call you 'mine?'" he asked, using several breaths to get the sentence out.
"I... I..." Oh, fuck it all she thought, as she leaned in again. He waited a moment before doing the same, adding anticipation and added desire to the kiss.
"I'll take that as a maybe," he said with a grin. Jean squeezed his hand and rested her head on his broad shoulder.
"You can take that as a yes, Scott."
Scott's lips curled as he rested his head atop hers. It was all he could have wanted. Ever.
All I can say is... It's about time :)
Oh and, feedback is my friend! Thank you in advance.
- Sarah
