Chapter 5
Jack & Jill's
was one of the more popular restaurants in the Westchester
area. It offered great food and boasted a fun atmosphere – the red checked
cloths were almost completely covered with brown packing paper, and a glass filled
with crayons sat on each table beside the salt and pepper shakers. It was the
kind of place where the staff knew the regular customers by name, and the
students from the Xavier Institute were regulars.
"Hey guys! How many of you are there tonight?" the hostess, a woman
named Gayle, greeted Scott and Jean as they entered the restaurant.
"Just us," Scott replied with a small smile, and Gayle's eyebrows
arched knowingly.
"Don't tell me you two are on an actual date," she teased, watching in amusement as Jean blushed
almost as red as her hair. "Well, all I can say is that it's about time.
You two kids are perfect for each other. Come on, I'll get you a nice quiet
booth out of the way of the insanity."
Jean and Scott followed Gayle as they weaved their way through the tables
towards the back, Scott's hand on Jean's lower back, gently guiding her. It was
a gesture he'd made a million times before, but tonight it seemed to have a different
significance.
"Here we are!" Gayle announced, setting the menus down on the table.
"Hang up your coats, and have a great time. And Jean, keep an eye on this
guy – don't let him get out of line," she added with a grin at Jean and
wink in Scott's direction.
Scott helped Jean out of her jacket and hung it with his on the coat rack
beside their booth. The awkward silence that had filled the car on the ride to
the restaurant reappeared after they'd place their orders with the waiter.
Finally, Jean couldn't take it anymore. She looked at him across the table,
trying to meet his eyes behind his glasses.
"This is stupid," she stated.
"What is?"
"This. Why is this so weird? Why does it feel so strange for us to be out
together? We've done stuff together a million times before when it's just been
the two of us, and there was never this…this….this tension. It's really starting to get to me."
Scott nodded. "You're right, it's never been this awkward. It's amazing
the difference one little word makes. As soon as we call it a date, we get
stressed out."
"Why do you think that is? Do you think it means we're making a mistake –
that we shouldn't do this?"
"No, I don't think that's it at all," he said, reaching across the
table to take her hand. "I think it means that we're just not sure how to
do this. There's a certain code of conduct around dating, and it's new for us
to be applying that to us – we've
never had to worry about what to say or how to act around each other. Suddenly
we're worrying about those things."
Jean nodded silently, knowing that Scott was right. "Do you think it'll
get easier?" she asked.
Scott arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you already asking for a second
date?"
Jean blushed again and dropped her eyes, flustered. "Not if you keep that
up," she murmured, glancing up to give him a mock-stern glare.
Scott laughed and brought his other hand up in a Boy Scout salute. "I
promise I'll behave," he told her, struggling to look serious.
"Now, where would be the fun in that,"
she asked coyly, shocked even as she said the words.
Scott's jaw dropped slightly and he laughed, amazed and thrilled that Jean was
actually flirting with him.
Jean blushed for what had to be the fifteenth time in the span of an hour, and
snatched her hand out of Scott's grip. She buried her face in her hands and
muttered, "Oh my god, I can't believe I just said that."
Scott, for his part, was thoroughly enjoying himself, and couldn't keep the
smile off his face.
The tension between them seemed to disappear over dinner, and by the time they
got to the movie theatre they had fallen back into the easy familiarity that
was the trademark of their friendship. The only obvious difference between this
and any other night they'd gone to the movies together was the fact that they
were holding hands, fingers intimately intertwined.
Scott waited in line to buy snacks while Jean went off to the washroom. When
she returned to the lobby, she stopped in her tracks at the scene that met her.
Duncan had cornered Scott, and from
the expression on Scott's face, Duncan
was saying something rather unpleasant.
"I'm just telling you, Summers, you're wasting
your time with her," Jean could hear Duncan
saying as she approached them. "It took me six months to get half way to
third base. I put in the time, and Jean never put out. She's a tease, and
totally not worth the trouble."
Jean was experiencing so many emotions, she couldn't isolate just one – she was
embarrassed, furious, mortified, disgusted, shocked....but all of those
emotions paled to the white-hot anger in Scott's expression. A muscle twitched
along his clenched jaw, and she could see it was taking every ounce of self
control Scott had not to rip into Duncan.
*It's ok, Scott. Just ignore him,* Jean sent to Scott telepathically as she
came to a halt behind her ex-boyfriend.
"What's the matter, Duncan?"
she asked sweetly. "Your ego still hurting because I dumped your sorry
ass?" Duncan stared at her in
surprise, unable to form an adequate come back. "C'mon, Scott, let's go
get our seats," she said as she took his hand.
Scott was silent as they entered the theatre and found seats near the back.
Jean could tell he was still steaming over their encounter with Duncan,
and she tried to put his mind at ease.
"Scott, don't let him get to you. Duncan's
a moron, we both know that," she told him, squeezing his hand in
reassurance. Scott squeezed back, but didn't speak. She peered up at him.
"Scott? Are you ok?"
He sighed and nodded his head.
"Yeah, right," Jean snorted. "C'mon, what's really bugging
you?"
Scott didn't respond right away, but his cheeks flushed. Finally, he said very
quietly, "It just makes me sick to think of that asshole touching you."
Jean wasn't sure what to say. "Scott...it wasn't like that. He and I never...it never got that far, you know that - he
told you as much," she stammered, embarrassed.
"I know, but it still makes me want to kick him in the head."
Jean stifled a laugh, and then decided to turn it back on him. "Well, what
about you? Did you and Taryn ever...?" she trailed off, letting him fill
in the blanks.
Scott looked at her in complete shock. "What? No!"
Jean shrugged. "Just curious. I figured if you knew that about my last
relationship, I should know the same about yours."
Scott took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "No, not even close,
Jean. Though not for her lack of trying," he continued with a smirk.
"She was rather…aggressive."
Scott heard Jean mutter something that sounded suspiciously like
"slut" under her breath, and he tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.
She glared at him, but then smiled as he gave her hand another squeeze.
"So, what do you want to do after the movie?" Scott asked as they
waited for the show to begin.
"I hadn't really thought about it," she admitted. "Any
ideas?"
"I was thinking we could play it by ear, unless you had
your heart set on something specific."
"Let's play it by ear, then," she agreed.
By the time the movie let out, it had started to snow. Scott ushered her into
the car and started driving, ignoring her pleas to reveal where they were
headed.
"You'll see," is all he said.
"Oh, Scott, I love this place," she whispered as they finally pulled
into an empty parking lot.
"I know," he said simply, parking the car. He'd driven them
to The Glen, a popular skating park boasting an ice path that meandered for
miles among trees adorned with white twinkle lights. Tonight, the park was
deserted.
"I wish I'd brought my skates," Jean said as she
followed Scott's example and climbed out of the car. She followed him around to
the trunk, which he opened to reveal two pairs of ice skates.
"I had Kitty grab them from your room this afternoon," he admitted
sheepishly.
"Good thinking, fearless leader," she told him with a grin. Jean
looked up at the sky and smiled into the softly falling snow. "What a gorgeous
night. This is just perfect, Scott. Thank you."
Scott smiled at her, very pleased with himself for being
able to make her so happy.
"Let's go, Snow Queen," Scott teased, leading her towards the trail.
They laced up their skates, and hobbled onto the ice where they spent a while
getting accustomed to the feel of ice beneath their feet.
"How're you
doing?" Jean asked Scott.
"Ok, I think. A bit wobbly, but it's all coming back to me."
"Good," she said, executing a simple step-turn so that she was
skating backwards, facing Scott. "You ready to race?" she asked
impishly.
"Anytime, anywhere, Red," he challenged, grinning back at her.
"You're on. First one to the next bend wins," she called as she
turned around and sped off, Scott a stride behind.
When he was within reaching distance, he snatched the back of her jacket,
hauling her backwards and propelling himself forward. Jean squeaked in dismay,
but recovered quickly.
"You don't stand a chance," he said as he skated
off ahead of her.
"Dream on, Summers!" she replied as a burst of speed allowed her to
pull ahead and reach the goal a half stride before Scott.
"Ha! You lose!" Jean crowed, pointing at Scott and grinning widely.
"The winner, and still champion, Jean Grey!" she announced as she did
a little victory dance. Scott watched in amusement until she stopped her dance.
He glided over to her and took her hand.
"I'm feeling pretty lucky for a loser," he said softly. She smiled up
at him, and they skated off down the trail, hand-in-hand, the snow swirling
around them.
They glided along the path, not talking, just enjoying each other's company.
After a while, Scott glanced at his watch. "It's getting pretty late. Do
you want to head back?"
Jean shook her head, fat snow flakes fluttering from her hair. "Not
especially," she replied, a dreamy quality to her voice.
"Do you want to sit for a bit?" she asked a few minutes later,
motioning to one the many park benches that lined the trail. Scott didn't
answer, but steered her towards the edge of the ice, stepping carefully up onto
the snow-covered ground. He took one of the gloves out of his pocket and used
it to clear the snow off the bench.
Scott and Jean sat close together, his arm securely wrapped around her shoulders,
her head resting on his chest. Snowflakes fell lazily around them, sparkling as
they caught the faint glow cast by the lights twined around the trees. Jean
sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to Scott.
This is the way things
are meant to be, she suddenly realized.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"Everything," she told him, knowing that he would
understand.
She pulled away from him slightly, and he looked down at her. The butterflies
in her stomach started performing complex tumbling routines, rather than the
simple cartwheels of the other day. She could feel her heart racing as she
titled her head up and leaned towards him, her eyes half closed and her lips
slightly parted. Scott leaned in and closed the distance between them, pausing
ever so briefly before finally covering her lips with his.
The kiss was sweet and slow and gentle, a tasting of each other. She felt weak;
she felt electrified. His lips were so soft and melded with hers so perfectly
she thought it must be a dream.
With a sudden flash, thoughts and emotions started whispering through her mind. They came so quickly and were so jumbled that she wasn't sure which were hers and which were Scott's: Oh my God...Perfect...Better than I'd ever imagined...So beautiful...Never dreamed...Can't believe it...Completes me...Please don't stop...Magic...Never stop....So sweet...Never knew....Amazing...Wanted this forever…More.....
Scott cupped her jaw and trembled as he deepened the kiss,
tentatively sliding his tongue into her open mouth. She kissed him back with
enthusiasm, twining her fingers into his thick hair and drawing him closer. The
kiss went on and on, for what felt like forever to Jean, and she realized that
she wanted it to go on forever. The
feel of Scott's arms around her, the way their bodies were pressed together,
their mouths devouring each other – everything was perfect, and she never
wanted to stop. Eventually they slowed and reluctantly pulled apart, their
foreheads together to maintain some contact.
*Wow,* she sent to him.
Scott chuckled, and Jean felt it as a deep rumble in his chest. "Yeah, wow," he agreed, and took a deep
steadying breath.
"Did you hear all that too?" Jean asked softly.
Scott nodded, lightly stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "What was it?"
"Us, our thoughts. We must have been projecting, reaching out to each other without realizing it. It allowed us to link for a moment."
"Has anything like that every happened before?"
She shook her head.
"I'm sorry –"
"Don't be," she hurriedly reassured him. "I liked it."
Scott smiled softly. "Me too.
Is it wrong of me to want to kiss you again?" he asked shyly.
She giggled, and it quickly turned into real laughter. "No, it's not wrong
at all," she told him, reaching up to caress his cheek. She brushed her
lips across his softly, and he chased after her as she pulled away. "But I
think we'd better not – not right now anyway. It could be dangerous," she added
with a sly grin.
Scott heaved a grand melodramatic sigh, which earned him another
smile from the girl in his arms. "Come on, Don Juan. We can cool off on
the skate back to the car," she told him, sliding off the bench and
holding out her hand to him.
Back at the Institute, Scott and Jean decided to forage for a late night snack,
reluctant to end the evening quite yet. Jean was reaching for the light switch
in the kitchen when a voice growled at them from the darkness.
"You two have fun?"
Jean let out a little shriek of surprise and bumped into Scott as she jumped
backwards. She flicked on the light to find Logan
sitting at the table, glaring at them.
"Jesus, Logan, don't you ever sleep?" Jean demanded, angry that he'd
been able to startle her so easily.
"Not until all the kids are home and tucked in bed – alone," he said, the implication perfectly clear.
"Logan!" Jean exclaimed,
outrage and embarrassment battling for dominance. He had the decency to look
repentant – sort of.
"Darlin', go on upstairs so I can have a talk with Scott," he told
her.
"You've got to be kidding! In case you missed it, Logan,
I turned 18 on my last birthday. That means I don't need a babysitter
anymore." Jean stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips. She
glared at Logan, daring him to
challenge her.
"Now, look Jeannie," he began in what he meant to be a soothing tone, but it
set Jean right off.
"Don't you Jeannie me! You're totally out of line, and you damn well know it!"
Logan sighed and
wiped his hand across his face. "Ya gonna help
me out here, kid?" Logan asked
Scott, who was leaning on the wall behind Jean, arms folded across his chest.
"Hell no," Scott said simply.
Logan growled and returned to his
stare down with Jean. Finally his expression softened and he raised his hands
in surrender. "Fine, I'm sorry. Yer right, I'm outta line," he admitted,
much to Scott's surprise.
Logan stalked out of the kitchen,
glaring menacingly at Scott as he passed. The message was loud and clear: "This
conversation isn't over."
When they were alone again, Scott looked at Jean and offered her a lopsided
smile. "I guess there's no question which of us is Logan's
favorite," he quipped.
~~
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