The Lady, the Leader and the Bump in the Road
Part Six/?
Author: Nefret24
Disclaimers and notes, see part 1.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"How about a tour? Scott, Ororo- I know you have classes to teach. You're dismissed," the Professor said with a smile at Scott. "Jean, perhaps later Logan will consent to an examination. I'm sure you have enough to keep you busy in the meantime."
"Yes, Professor." The X-Men left the room single-file and left the Professor with the man, each hoping the conference would succeed in convincing him of the good faith in which he was brought to the school.
An ally? Perhaps. A nuisance, definitely, confirmed Scott, thoroughly annoyed at being late to the Shop. He was a man born to break with conformity. He was disrespectful, crass, loud- a large bulk of a man with physical prowess but little else to recommend him. Ororo maintained a calm acceptance while Scott fumed as they talked over lunch.
"Where is he now?"
"With Jean," Scott replied sourly, stabbing his meatloaf. "Testing."
"Ah," Ororo said enigmatically, sipping her water.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It does not mean anything," she said, shaking her head and slowly rising from her chair. "Come on, lunch is almost over." It must be reassuring to Jean that he can still get jealous over her, Ororo mused, watching her friend deposit the remains of his half-eaten lunch in the trash. Frustrating, but reassuring, she amended, glancing over at his fixed grimace.
"He's going to make trouble, 'Ro, I know it," he said, crushing his soda can and tossing it into the recycle bin.
"You do not know that. Besides, he could be a great help. He has experience in fighting- precisely what we do not have," she said in hushed tones as they began to make their way into the student-populated hallways.
"Yeah- dirty fighting," Scott mumbled petulantly, unable to counter Ororo's remark. They didn't have experience, he knew that. In fact, he was the one who most frequently complained about it to the Professor. They needed to be more professional. Outfits and gadgets could only go so far
"And don't worry about Jean," Ororo said by way of goodbye.
"Who's worried?" he replied after her, not very convinced himself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"So what the hell does this thing do?"
It was the eighth time he had posed the question since they had begun, each time pointing suspicious fingers at various pieces of equipment in the lab, eyes narrowed as if, at any moment, the saline IV stand could attack him within an inch of his life. Jean wondered that a man who couldn't remember when he was born but seemed old enough and wise enough in the ways of the world to get by, couldn't understand the necessity or the purpose of an X-ray.
Then again, it wasn't everyday that one met a mutant whose powers of regeneration meant that they could have their head split open and then reattach itself without any residual damage. (Which would explain the white-coat syndrome- not a lot of experience around doctors.) Or that fully grown mutants came into her lab. What with the increased class sizes at the school she was beginning to believe herself the first pediatric mutant specialist.
With slight irritation entering her voice, she explained the technology behind the MRI scanner, arranging the necessary wires as she spoke and checking the connections with their receptors on his bare chest.
They had almost finished all the tests and Jean was thankful. She was dying to get off her feet for a few minutes (why the hell had she kept her heels on this long anyway?) close her eyes and let the world drift away After a big late lunch, that is, uncomfortably recalling her empty stomach.
"I'm sorry, about before if I hurt you." He gestured vaguely to her neck, finishing his oh-so-heartfelt apology with a grunt.
She smiled slightly, an it's-all-right by way of an watch-it-next-time-buster-teacherly kind of expression. Worked in her classroom with the class clowns all the time.
Class clown that was exactly what he was, coupled with a healthy dose of testosterone and animalistic preservation instincts. He could be dangerous- he was dangerous, if Rogue was to be believed, and there was no cause to doubt. So why the hell did she feel so charmed?
A rakish grin spread on his face. "Anything to get my shirt off, huh?"
Charmed no more, she thought angrily, and hit the control to start the machine harder than strictly necessary, rather pleased with herself as he jerked back, the grin no longer in evidence.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"No running!" Scott called out half-heartedly down the hall, after almost being knocked down by several enthusiastic students just set loose from their last class of the day. He leaned back on the doorframe and folded his arms, watching Ororo straighten up her papers on her desk.
"Good class?"
"It went well enough. If Bobby and John do not stop fooling around in class, we are going to have to separate them," she said shaking her head.
"Eh, boys will be boys. Jean'll set 'em straight in chemistry tomorrow," he said, knowing how his girlfriend could set terror into her students as easily as she could charm them.
Ororo smiled and looked up at him. "I'm sure she will. Have you spoken to her yet?"
"No- actually I was wondering if you had seen her around," he replied, worry creeping into his voice. He hated it when she overdid things- which was practically a daily concern, now that he thought about it. No time to stop. Breathe. Sleep. Eat.
"I think the lab results just got back. The professor mentioned he would be going downstairs to see Logan's test scores."
"I guess that means she hasn't slept yet."
"Probably not." Ororo brushed past him, her hand lightly straying on his shoulder. "She will rest. Do not worry so much," she said kindly, disappearing down an adjacent hallway to go to her own room.
Well then. I guess I'll go sit in for the verdict with the professor, he mused, walking a little faster than strictly necessary to get to the downstairs elevator.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jean had finished briefing the Professor, who seemed to be lost deep in his own thoughts after hearing the results of the testing. Scott himself didn't know what to make of it all- healing powers, adamantium skeleton? If he hadn't considered Logan a threat before, he certainly did now.
Jean merely sighed and peeled off her lab coat, carefully folding it over a metal lab chair. She rubbed her eyes with one hand, pinching the bridge of her nose. "God, what a long day."
As if to compliment her sighed comment, her stomach rumbled. Scott's head jerked up from its former position of contemplating his folded hands in his lap, concern writ on his face. "Have you eaten yet today?"
"Scott-" His name came out past her lips as a weary, defeatist whine. The same old argument, dragged out once more, she thought disgustedly, for pride's sake remaining immobile, half-perched on the x-ray table and refusing her body's urges to run bolting to the kitchen straight-away.
"Jean- you promised!"
"I got tied up. I'm sorry," she said insincerely, hopping down from her precarious perch. She began to go to the door and noticed him still fixed in his chair. "I'm going now- you want to come along? Keep me honest?"
"I suppose someone has to," he sighed and joined her at the door. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he said, running a finger across her lower lip.
She smiled enchantingly up at him. "Why else would I do it?"
He reluctantly smiled back, giving her a slight shove through the doorway. "Double-time, missy. You're going to eat if I have to shovel the food into your mouth." When her grin grew wider, flashed over her shoulder as she click-clacked her way down the sterile hallway, he added, "And don't think that any amount of hip-wiggling is going to stop me from being firm."
"Mr. Summers, what a strict disciplinarian you are."
"I learned from the best, Miss Grey."
"So pithy, Scott," she said, entering the elevator.
"I can't be witty all the time," he said, pressing the button for the ground floor.
"Eh, you make up for it with that Summer's charm," she said, savoring their precious seconds alone and draping her arms around his neck, leaving her lips hovering above his.
"What Summer's charm? You always told me there was none," he said, lips wriggling with mirth.
"Not all charms are personality," she said, giving him a quick smack on the lips "hotpants," and a quick smack somewhere else before the doors re-opened and she sauntered out past him, triumphantly swaggering as she walked towards the kitchen.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC