Encounters with an Icy Table
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Marvel does.
Chapter 9
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Hank sat in the rec room's big, soft recliner reading a textbook. Warren and Bobby sat on the large couch playing a video game.
"Ha!" Bobby exclaimed, throwing his controller into the air. "I win again."
"I'm done playing."
"Aww."
"I don't like losing."
"Spoil sport."
Warren shrugged. "My prerogative."
"So who're you going out with tonight?"
"Not exactly sure yet."
"Amazing."
"Actually, I have a proposition for you. Both of you."
Hank looked up. "Go on."
"Bambi wants me to come to the club tonight, but only if I bring friends for her friends."
"Count me in!" Bobby grinned.
"Me as well."
"Right. I figured as much. But Bambi's got three friends coming."
"You know, Scott won't go for it," Hank reminded.
"I know. I was thinking of my buddy, Preston."
"That asshole?"
"Well, what am I left with?"
"It would be nice if all of us could go out tonight. We haven't all hung out as a group in a long time."
"Well, Jeannie loves to dance," Warren remembered.
"But Slim will never come to a club!" Bobby laughed. "Too uptight."
"He might," Hank began, "If we get Jeannie to persuade him."
"Yeah, he'll do anything she wants," Bobby snickered.
"What's with those two lately?" Warren asked.
"Well, he hurt her the other day, so there's been a lot of attention…" Bobby started to explain.
"No, its been longer than that. And its weird. They fight more than ever, but its different."
"Well," Hank started. "You know he's still interested in her."
"Even thought all agreed not to go after Jean."
"Right."
"But he still is."
"Well, I wouldn't exactly say he's going after her. He's too meek for that. But he's still interested."
"He should have given up like the rest of us."
"Jealous, Warren?"
"Well…"
"You shouldn't be," Bobby interrupted. "You go out with girls hotter than Jean every night."
"Still…"
"Still, nothing," Hank snapped. "He's not actively pursuing her. Anyways, she's interested in him too."
"What!?"
"She's interested in him."
"How do you know that?"
"Jeannie told me. She's not sure what to do about it. Because of reactions like that."
Warren sat back against the couch and rolled his eyes.
"Hank," Bobby
asked. "Do you think he'll ever get
her?"
"I think its likely.
But I think that Jeannie will be the aggressor."
Bobby nodded.
"Anyways, tonight," Warren interrupted. "We're not going in with any specific choices. We'll just see what the ladies pick."
"What exactly are you guys doing tonight?" Jean asked, as she walked into the room and plopped down on the smaller couch.
"We're going to the club with Warren," Bobby smiled.
"Oh, dear."
"Wanna come?"
"Uh, no."
"Come on. Dancing…"
Jean laughed. "Tempting."
"Have some fun tonight."
"Have you guys invited Scott?"
"You know he won't go."
"Invite him. Please."
Warren scowled. "We'll invite Slim. But he has never ever come with us to a club before."
"Oh, you sound so thrilled." Jean mocked.
"If you want him to come, you try Jean. He'll say no to us."
"You'd prefer he didn't come."
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"Jean! He isn't exactly the most social person. He'll turn my girls away."
"Poor baby."
"What's your problem?"
"Your attitude."
"Jean, these are my normal friends we're talking about. There are certain impressions I like to keep."
Scott walked down the hall, pausing outside the door as he heard the tempers flaring.
"So you think Scott
will ruin that impression?"
"I didn't say that!"
"Yes, you did." Jean stood up in a full rage now.
"For God's sake Jeannie, I didn't. I just wasn't going to bother inviting him because I knew he wouldn't come."
Scott leaned against the wall, listening.
"Well, maybe he stays cynical and sarcastic and not particularly social because you don't make an effort."
"Errgh!" Warren growled, standing up. "All right! What do you want, Jeannie? I'll go fucking invite him right now."
"Don't bother. You obviously don't want to." She stalked over to the door. "I'm not coming." Jean slammed the door shut.
"What the hell was that about!?" Warren demanded.
"Holy shit," Bobby laughed. "She's angry."
"Yes, Jeannie has quite a temper," Hank began. "Warren, let it go. She provoked it. But it demonstrated what I was saying earlier, right?"
Warren nodded unhappily.
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Outside, Jean walked right into Scott.
"Oh!" she squealed, stumbling backwards. "You startled me."
"I do that." Scott offered his hands to help her up.
"How much of that did you hear?"
"Enough."
"For
what?"
"Hmm?"
"Enough for what?"
Scott shrugged, and cocked his head to the side, indicated that he'd rather talk about this elsewhere. They walked down the hall to the kitchen. Jean sat down at the table and slammed her fist down.
"Pretending that's Warren?"
Jean smiled. "He was so infuriating!"
"You shouldn't let him get to you."
"But you heard what he was saying!"
"But Jean, like you said, I am cynical, and sarcastic, and not particularly social."
Jean blushed. "But that's not the point."
"And I wouldn't have gone to the club."
"If I had asked, would you?"
Scott hesitated. She looked him straight in the eyes, seeking them out behind his glasses.
"I don't know." He sat down beside her. "Probably after a bit of fighting."
Jean laughed. "Always a battle with you."
Scott shrugged. "You should go. You love to dance."
"No, I don't want to. I'm too mad at Warren."
"You don't have to fight for me."
"I know I don't have to. I want to."
Jean reached over and grabbed Scott's hand.
"Why don't you think you're worth fighting for?"
Scott looked down at the table. "I'm dangerous."
"Scott…" Jean reached out and put her other hand on his shoulder. He flinched at first, but then relaxed.
"I know you don't blame me, but it still kind of showed me what I've always been afraid of."
"I know. We're doing okay though. You did so well this morning."
"It was hard."
"But you did it."
Scott nodded and turned to her. "You
assured me. You trust me. I don't know why, but you do. But it made me able to do what I needed to
do. It's a step. A baby one, but a step."
Jean smiled, and scooted closer to him. She wrapped her arms around him, and they held each other for a few minutes.
As they broke apart, Jean said, "I hope you'll be somewhat social this evening."
"What did you have in mind?"
Jean blushed. "I…I don't know."
Scott held her gaze. "Food, entertainment. Something like that?"
"Yeah, something like that," Jean laughed.
Scott grinned.
"You should do that more often."
"What?"
"Smile."
Scott laughed. "For you, maybe."
Jean blushed again.
"Your cheeks are the color of your hair."
Jean turned away. Scott laughed and pulled her around to face him. She was pouting. He smirked.
"That's not the same smile!"
"Well, maybe you'll see the other one later. 7-ish? We'll find something to do."
Scott headed for the door. Jean followed him out with her eyes, finally sinking back into her chair and smiling.
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