Thanks to:
Enfant-terrible – There's defiantly a sexy encounter coming on…for my NC-17 fics, you need to join a site called Evo-over 18. If you go to the reviews, click onto Furygrrls page and the address is there. I'm hopeless at computers or I would put a link up on my own site!
Oceanbang – In a way it is a sequel to Power9! I was asked for more Jeance on a site I'm a member of, and this is the result. I've always loved the X-Men and the way they are not popular superheroes, I thought I'd include a bit of that here. Jean will let us know what happened between her and Scott, but it might take a few chapters yet.
Jen1703 – I'm glad that Evo-over 18 could bring you to this fic (and you're right, it's easier to review in fanfic) and I've noted your plug for your fic which I'm gonna check out as soon as I finish this (we're all a member of Evo-over 18 for the fics after all, I fully recommend 'Measuring up' which I only just read and made me howl laughing!). This is the first time I've tried canon Jean, I hope she's still in character and interesting by the time the fic is over!
Anc7 – It's not a common pairing, but I hope you like it!
Furygrrl – You made my night, seriously. Two good reviews for a fic I was unsure anyone was reading! The NC-17 parts will of course be on Evo-over 18 and the R rated here. I'm so into this fic, it is tons of fun to write! And on the subject of fics, I'm going to see RE2 on the 11th, so you want PB to have another night standing by the bedroom door with a cosh, that would be the night (lol).
Disclaimer: I own nowt.
Jean was sprawled on the couch, shoes off, stereo on, when there was a knock at the door. She sighed. It was probably Kitty or Kurt, come to talk her into staying at the mansion. There was no way anyone else could gain admittance to the building, not when the outside door could only be opened by a key or by some one in the apartments buzzing them in.
"Come in!" she called. The door was locked, but that wouldn't be a problem for Kitty or Kurt. And she didn't really feel like moving. It had been a rough couple of days.
There was a pause, then the door opened. Jean sat up in a hurry. As far as she knew, only Ororo and Remy had the know-how to pick a lock and it was doubtful that either of them would do so to gain entry to her place. Which meant that the intruder was probably an enemy.
She readied herself to attack the person telekinetically, but stopped in confusion when they stepped into the apartment.
"Lance?"
"Hey." Lance glanced around. "Nice place."
"But…what are you doing here? No one's seen any of you in years!"
"SHIELD sent me." Lance checked out the framed certificate on the wall. "You're a doctor?"
"A geneticist. You're with SHIELD?"
"Yeah. We've been sent to take care of the people blowing up the mutants of Bayville. Place hasn't changed much. Unfortunately."
"The Brotherhood's their best team?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
Jean checked him out. He'd certainly changed in the years away from Bayville. He had always been tall, but now he'd gained muscle too. He seemed calm; the aura of barely-contained anger that had always been a part of him was gone. His eyes remained the same though, that deep brown that had she had always admired, especially when she'd been dating a man whose eyes were permanently concealed. "I guess not. It's just a shock."
Lance sat in the chair opposite the couch. "Look, we're here to keep the mutant population safe and to find out who these creeps are and the quicker we do that, the sooner I can get away from here. It'd be a lot easier if you went back to…"
"No!" Jean glared at him. "I've fought hard for my independence and I don't want it taken from me by some extremist group. I won't live in fear and I won't hide."
Lance gave her a look of grudging admiration. "It'll make it much harder for me to stay in contact with the rest of the team if you don't."
"Hello, I'm a telepath remember? I can get in touch with them anytime."
"No offence Jean, but you're a civilian and you're not to get involved in this."
"Too late." Jean thought back to the night of the café, the smell of burning and the sight of people on fire running around screaming. "I'm already involved."
Lance nodded. "And you're not to get any more involved. You've got a normal life now and I know you can look after yourself but you ought to leave it up to us."
"I'll try."
"I'll need to check out the security measures around here – I managed to walk straight in. These locks wouldn't keep anyone out. And I'll have to have a look around your office too."
"I don't have an office. I work in a lab."
"I'll still have to check it out. What do you do in this lab?"
"I research mutant DNA mostly. At the moment we're looking for an antidote to the toxic eliminators in Pow-R-8."
Lance looked thoughtful. "If some one with a grudge against mutants found out about that, they'd see you as an enemy. Maybe you should take some time off while we find out who's behind this."
"Haven't you heard a word I've said? I can't take time off, not now! I'm not going to let these creeps ruin my life. And what we're researching is important! Did you know that the kids in Bayville High take Pow-R-8 to school in spray bottles and use them on each other? Because it's not harmful to the normal kids, the faculty looks the other way, but four students from the Institute have been poisoned! If we're to prevent any more kids getting hurt, I have to keep working!"
"Fine!" Lance scowled. "But if I find anything in that lab that's a security risk…"
"Then you'll fix it and I'll keep researching."
Lance growled, but knew he was powerless to stop her if that was what she wanted to do. Rather than argue about it anymore, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled Pietro's number. He stood up and went over to the window as Pietro answered.
"Hey Lance! You get that goody-good Grey to come back to the Institute?"
"Uh, not exactly…"
There was a loud crash in the background and Lance frowned. "What was that?"
"Toad tried cuddling up to Wanda again."
"He never quits, I'll give him that." Lance noticed a grey van outside, parked on the double yellows. "What's it like at the mansion?"
"Tense. Why isn't she coming back to the Institute?"
"She doesn't want to and I can't force her – she's a telepath! She could probably make me back off if I push it."
"Damn right," said Jean smugly.
Pietro sighed. "Then you'll have to stay there until we sort this out. Damn, I hate it when some stupid civilian screws up all our plans."
"Me? Why me? Why not Wanda? It'd be more appropriate."
"Wanda's not exactly tactful. She'd try to bully Jean into coming back to the mansion. St John wouldn't last two minutes without torching the place – he's already set fire to the Danger Room and it's supposed to be fireproof. Fred used to have a crush on her, bad idea for him to go. And can you imagine Toad hanging around Jean?"
"I guess not." Lance sighed. "She won't stay away from the lab either. I'll have to check the security there. Are you near the computer?"
"I can be."
"Run a check on some plates for me." Lance reeled off the number of the grey van and waited a few seconds for Pietro to get to the computer.
"Belongs to a Graydon Creed," reported Pietro. "Recently moved to Bayville. Is there a problem?"
"I don't know yet." Lance could see that the driver's seat was empty, but something about the name was familiar. "Does that name ring any bells?"
"I don't know. I think I've heard it before, but I don't know where. Maybe it'll come to us."
"It'd better."
"No rap sheet. He's clean. Not even a parking ticket."
"Do you know anything else about him?"
"I can find out. You stay put, baby-sit the doc. I'll get back to you if I find out anything else."
Lance hit the cut-off button and gave the van a final glance. It was probably perfectly innocent, but something about the van that made him nervous.
"Do you think some one's following me?" asked Jean, trying not to sound nervous.
"No, it's probably nothing." Lance turned back to Jean. "I'm staying here for a while."
"Where?" Jean cast an eye around her small apartment. The only bedroom was separated from the main area and there was nowhere else for some one of his height to sleep, unless he took the living room floor. The couch was only a two-seater and the chair was uncomfortable.
"I guess I'll take the couch," said Lance, looking a bit doubtful himself. "Got a spare blanket?"
"Yeah," replied Jean.
"I'm going to the store," said Lance. "I need to replace those locks with something a bit sturdier. You stay here. Lock the door behind me."
"I'm going with you," said Jean, standing up. "I need some stuff."
"But…"
"I'm going with you." Jean telekinetically lifted her coat from where she had carelessly thrown it. "Besides, if you came by heli-jet you won't have a car. We'll take mine."
Lance waited while she locked the door behind them. "Do you still have the SUV?"
"Nope. When I moved out of the Institute, there was no need to have a big car. I traded it for a convertible. How about you? Still got that jeep?"
"It died," replied Lance as they took the elevator down to the street. "I've got a new rig, but I left it behind. I'll drive."
"You will not." Jean pulled her car keys out of her pocket and twirled them around her finger. "That's my car, the red one."
A squeal of tyres made them both look around. Lance noticed the grey van pull away and drive down the road at speed.
"What's his hurry?" Jean walked over to the driver's side and paused. "I must have left the door unlocked. Good thing it wasn't stolen…"
"Oh shit!"
Lance grabbed Jean around the waist and yanked her away from the car. He spun her around before she could protest and took a hurried step away from the car.
Before he could get any further away from the car, it exploded, showering the street with chunks of metal. He shoved her to the floor and covered her body with his own, vaguely aware that if any of the debris hit him, it was going to hurt.
Jean glanced over her shoulder and formed a telekinetic bubble around them. Burning metal bounced harmlessly off it and Lance managed to sit up, checking out the wreckage.
"I'd say some one's out to get you," he said grimly.
Jean checked out the scrapes on her hands and knees, looking dumbly at her burning car. People were hurrying over to check out the scene. She had been about to climb into that car. If it hadn't been for Lance, she'd be dead.
"But who? And…and why?"
"I promise you Jean," replied Lance. "I'm going to find out."