Page 72 ~Welcome Home~
"Likewise," he replied, but he no longer had eyes for her (Storm). She didn't need to be told who'd followed her down the stairs.
"Hey," he said to Jean.
"Hi," she told him. "Welcome home."
Storm picked up the cue that neither of the others were aware they were broadcasting and flicked her fingers in the general direction of Bobby and Rogue. A puff of breeze whirled across the foyer to give them a gentle push back toward the common room. They took the hint, with all manner of semisecret giggles at how the tables had suddenly been reversed.
"I'll go preflight the Blackbird," Storm said, but she might as well have been speaking to herself.
"Bye, Logan," Rogue called out as Bobby pulled her through the double doorway.
"Later," Logan replied absently.
"Nice to meet you, sir," said Bobby.
"You, too, kid." Then, at last, once they were alone, to Jean: "You look good."
"You, too," she said, descending the last few steps to the foyer. They kept a distance between them because the signals their bodies were giving were pushing hard to bring together. She took refuge in business. "You heard about what's happening in Washington?"
"Haven't stopped except for gas since morning," he answered with a nod. He'd pushed the bike to its limits, on the back roads and interstates, covering better than a thousand miles over the course of the day.
"Storm and I are heading for Boston," she continued. "Cerebro has tagged the mutant who attacked the President. Professor Xavier wants us to try and make contact. We won't be gone long."
"I just got here."
"And you'll be here when we get back - unless you plan on running off again."
"If this hitter's the real deal, you could use some muscle taking him down."
That made her laugh. "We can handle ourselves, thank you very much."
He shrugged posing nonchalance. "Then I guess I can probably think of a few reasons to stick around."
"That's my guy."
"Find what you were looking for, Logan?" called Scott, entering the foyer and catching sight of them both.
Logan didn't spare him a glance. "More or less," he said.
Jen broke their eye contact and strode across the floor to Scott, hating the moment and hating her reactions even more. She didn't like being out of control, of herself, of situations. She was a doctor, with a doctor's abhorrence of surprises and chaos. Logan was the personification of chaos. Sometimes she couldn't stand the little runt, he couldn't hold a candle to Scott in any respect - or so she told herself. Yet she couldn't get him out of her thoughts. And the thoughts she had of him made her nervous.
"I'll see you later," she said to Scott.
"Be safe, okay?"
"Always," she said, and gave him a passionate kiss that was undercut a moment later as she couldn't help looking back at Logan. "You, too," she said, telling herself she was talking to both of them, while both men knew that wasn't quite true.
"Likewise," he replied, but he no longer had eyes for her (Storm). She didn't need to be told who'd followed her down the stairs.
"Hey," he said to Jean.
"Hi," she told him. "Welcome home."
Storm picked up the cue that neither of the others were aware they were broadcasting and flicked her fingers in the general direction of Bobby and Rogue. A puff of breeze whirled across the foyer to give them a gentle push back toward the common room. They took the hint, with all manner of semisecret giggles at how the tables had suddenly been reversed.
"I'll go preflight the Blackbird," Storm said, but she might as well have been speaking to herself.
"Bye, Logan," Rogue called out as Bobby pulled her through the double doorway.
"Later," Logan replied absently.
"Nice to meet you, sir," said Bobby.
"You, too, kid." Then, at last, once they were alone, to Jean: "You look good."
"You, too," she said, descending the last few steps to the foyer. They kept a distance between them because the signals their bodies were giving were pushing hard to bring together. She took refuge in business. "You heard about what's happening in Washington?"
"Haven't stopped except for gas since morning," he answered with a nod. He'd pushed the bike to its limits, on the back roads and interstates, covering better than a thousand miles over the course of the day.
"Storm and I are heading for Boston," she continued. "Cerebro has tagged the mutant who attacked the President. Professor Xavier wants us to try and make contact. We won't be gone long."
"I just got here."
"And you'll be here when we get back - unless you plan on running off again."
"If this hitter's the real deal, you could use some muscle taking him down."
That made her laugh. "We can handle ourselves, thank you very much."
He shrugged posing nonchalance. "Then I guess I can probably think of a few reasons to stick around."
"That's my guy."
"Find what you were looking for, Logan?" called Scott, entering the foyer and catching sight of them both.
Logan didn't spare him a glance. "More or less," he said.
Jen broke their eye contact and strode across the floor to Scott, hating the moment and hating her reactions even more. She didn't like being out of control, of herself, of situations. She was a doctor, with a doctor's abhorrence of surprises and chaos. Logan was the personification of chaos. Sometimes she couldn't stand the little runt, he couldn't hold a candle to Scott in any respect - or so she told herself. Yet she couldn't get him out of her thoughts. And the thoughts she had of him made her nervous.
"I'll see you later," she said to Scott.
"Be safe, okay?"
"Always," she said, and gave him a passionate kiss that was undercut a moment later as she couldn't help looking back at Logan. "You, too," she said, telling herself she was talking to both of them, while both men knew that wasn't quite true.
