Author's Note: This is set after Mainstream. It's a stand-alone, completely unrelated to anything else I've written… although technically it can be in the same universe as Evolutionary Beginnings, but not Snow.
Be gentle with me, it's been a long time since I've tried to write Scott/Jean.
Also, this hasn't been beta'd… which will likely explain a lot. Apologies in advance.
Resolutions
by Jen1703
"I don't make New Year's resolutions, Scott. You know that," Jean told her friend, eyebrow raised in mock warning for him to not push the issue.
Sitting in the rec room waiting for the ball to drop in Times Square, Scott and Jean were curled up on the couch in their pajamas, at opposite ends of the couch, sharing a blanket. A bowl of chips sat on the blanket between them, empty ice cream bowls rested on the coffee table, and they were both nursing cans of pop.
All the other students and faculty had gone home for the holidays, and weren't scheduled to return for another couple of days. Even Professor Xavier had gone away for a few days, flying off in the X-Jet with Henry to visit an old friend in Scotland. Scott had been invited along, but had opted for a few days of peace and quiet on his own.
Jean had come back to the Institute unexpectedly early, having had more than enough of her family in the week and a half she'd been home. She'd decided that spending New Year's Eve with her best friend (even though she wasn't entirely convinced that's all Scott was to her) was much more appealing that suffering through her parents' annual party.
"It's a new year, time for some changes. Hence the term New Year's resolutions," Scott replied, lips quirking into an amused smile. "Come on, Jean. There has to be something you're vowing to do this year. Something that you've been wanting to do for a long time, but just haven't gotten around to doing. Everybody's got something like that."
The redhead shrugged and shook her head. "Not especially, no," she said nonchalantly.
Scott smirked at her. "Liar."
Mouth open, making an indignant sound, she kicked him softly under the blanket, being careful not to dislodge the bowl from the couch. "I am not."
"Are too," he laughed, kicking her back. "Come on, Jean. There has to be something. Take a class, go somewhere new, take up a new sport…" Scott trailed off and looked at her expectantly.
Again, Jean shrugged. "Not really," she insisted. "I want to get into college, but that's about it."
"That's not the same thing," Scott protested, shaking his head and laughing at her. "That's a given. We're seniors, it's expected of us."
Exasperated, Jean rolled her eyes. "Well then what would you consider a valid resolution, Oh-Wise-and-All-Knowing Mr. Summers. Please share your great knowledge with me."
"I don't know, take up skiing, finally be able to kick my ass in the gym, start sculpting again, find a boyfriend who's not a complete asshole –"
"Hey," Jean cried, kicking him again, lifting the bowl of chips so she could kick him repeatedly. The topic of Duncan was, by unspoken agreement, forbidden. It always had been, but had become especially so since the Big Break Up a few months ago. "That's a low blow, Summers. And you're the last one who should be criticizing anyone's taste in significant others. Does the name Taryn ring any bells?"
Scott laughed and fought to take hold of her feet to keep her from pounding him anymore. "Taryn was just as bad as Duncan, I admit that," he told her as he continued wrestling with her legs, still chuckling at her. "But they're both ancient history, so fair game for teasing."
"Bastard," Jean muttered as she settled down, her feet now held securely on Scott's lap. Suddenly he began rubbing one of her sock-clad feet, and the curse died on her lips. Instead she closed her eyes and leaned back against the arm of the couch, enjoying the attention.
Scott was the only person she trusted to touch her feet, which were incredibly ticklish, almost painfully so. It took many years of patience and building trust before Jean relented after a particularly strenuous mission and let Scott rub her aching feet. It was heaven for her.
"What were you calling me?" he asked teasingly, continuing to massage her delicate feet.
"Mmmm… the most wonderful man alive…" Jean replied dreamily, eyes still closed. And while she said it jokingly, she realized she really did mean it. He was the most wonderful man (well, alright, boy) she knew. She felt her cheeks flush as she realized the truthfulness of her words, and the track her mind seemed to be heading off on. Mentally shaking herself, she forced herself to smile at Scott. "So what are your New Year's resolutions? I'm assuming you have a list written down somewhere," she teased, knowing his anal retentive tendencies all to well. Scott lived by lists.
"As a matter of fact, I do," he answered simply, smiling somewhat smugly as he started rubbing her other foot.
Jean waited a beat before asking, "So? Where is it?"
He chuckled. "I don't have it with me," Scott told her lightly.
She pulled her feet from his lap, looking at him pointedly.
"What?" he asked, as if he didn't know exactly what she was going to ask.
"Go get it," she ordered, predictably.
"Jean," he chuckled in protest, even though he knew resistance was, as the Borg so succinctly put it, futile.
"Don't 'Jean' me," the redhead warned, one eyebrow arching high. "You brought this up, I want to see your list."
"But it's almost midnight –"
She cut him off with a shake of her head, glancing at the television screen where they countdown clock was ticking away. "You've got eight minutes. Go."
Laughing, Scott threw back the blanket and got to his feet, looking down at her through his shades. "You're awfully demanding, y'know."
"You're just figuring this out?" Jean joked with a grin.
"Oh no, I learned that years ago," he smiled at her, then heading out of the rec room.
Jean watched him go, a fond smile on her face. Her best friend, her confidant, her favorite person in the world. Scott was sweet, thoughtful, funny, and he knew her better than anyone else. They understood each other in a way nobody else ever would. And ever since her break up with Duncan (well, if she were honest with herself, it had been quite a bit longer than that), she'd been trying very hard to avoid thinking about how cute Scott was, how a simple touch from him seemed to send a spark through her entire body, how she found herself wondering how soft his lips were, whether or not he'd be a good kisser… these were things she shouldn't be entertaining about him, but she couldn't help herself.
Lost in her musings, the next thing she knew Scott was back, a folded sheet of lined paper in his hands. As he reclaimed his spot on the couch, Jean reached out and made a "gimme" motion, indicating the list. Scott shook his head and laughed. "No way. I'll read it to you."
He couldn't have chosen a worse answer if he'd tried. Curiosity instantly piqued, Jean reached out with her telekinesis and plucked the paper from his hand before he knew what was going on.
"Jean!" Scott protested, reaching out for it as Jean floated it into her waiting hand. In a moment he was lunging for her, but she quickly evaded him, slipping from beneath the blanket and ducking around the sofa.
Giggling as he scrambled off the couch after her, Jean unfolded the paper and began to read aloud. "One, improve grades in each class by at least five per cent. An excellent resolution, Scott," she approved with a nod, grinning as she ran across the room to stay out of his reach. "Two, improve best time in the Danger Room by at least 30 per cent by the end of the year. Ah, yes, the responsible fearless leader, always thinking of training."
"Jean, c'mon, give it back," Scott demanded as he raced across the rec room, finally snagging her around the waist. She held the list out of his reach with her telekinesis, though, and kept reading. "Three, finally ask Jean out…" Her laughter died on her lips as she trailed off, and Scott's arms released her. Turning toward him, she searched his face. He was watching her, head bowed slightly in embarrassment or defeat, she really couldn't tell which.
"Scott…?" Jean said his name softly, questioning.
Scott sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at her from underneath his shaggy bangs. "What?"
Jean motioned to the list. "What do you mean, 'finally ask Jean out'?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly.
"It means what it says," he told her tiredly.
Her head was spinning, trying to understand what she was reading and what she was hearing. Jean padded back across the room, list still in hand, and plopped down on the couch. She looked back at Scott, staring at him until he got the message. Resignedly he trudged over and sat down next to her.
Cocking her head, Jean watched him. He looked fairly miserable, and for that she felt terrible. "So, how long have you wanted to ask me out?" she asked gently, bumping his shoulder lightly with her own to try to lighten the mood a bit.
He looked at her sharply, trying to determine if this was a trap of some kind. From anyone else, it might have been. But Jean wasn't devious like that. "For about as long as I've known you," Scott admitted quietly.
Jean blinked at him in surprised. Ok, that wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. Not that she really had any idea of what to expect, but that wasn't it. "Oh," she responded simply, then looked back down at the list, rereading the words over and over again before looking up and pinning him with her bright green eyes. "Why didn't you?"
Scott shrugged uncomfortably and paused a moment, considering his answer. "At first, I just didn't think you'd say yes," he said sheepishly. "And then you started dating Duncan. That pretty much convinced me I didn't stand a chance."
Jean cringed at that but nodded. Sadly, she could understand. And now she regretted more than ever dating Duncan. It had never been the smartest move she'd made, but knowing it had scared off Scott so completely… god, what a colossal waste of time.
Cheering from the television set distracted them. The ball had dropped. A new year had arrived, and they hadn't noticed.
"Ok, you're right, I do have a New Year's resolution," Jean announced suddenly. "Two, actually."
Raising his eyebrow at her, Scott waited for her to continue.
"One, to say yes if you ask me out." She said is casually, conversationally, trying very hard to keep her expression neutral.
Scott looked at her in surprise, unsure of what to do or say, other than to ask, "And what's number two?"
"To do this as often a possible." Jean leaned over and, after catching his eyes behind his glasses, pressed her lips to his, moving them gently as she waited for him to respond. She didn't need to wait long, however, and soon he was kissing her back. Scott's hand slid up to cup the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair, and he deepened the kiss with a gentle flick of his tongue.
And Jean had the answer to two of her questions – his lips were very soft while at the same time wonderfully firm, and yes, he was a very good kisser. Excellent, in fact.
By the time they came up for air, the New Year's celebration had ended in New York City, and Scott and Jean had somehow ended up lying down on the sofa, quite thoroughly wrapped up in each other. Breathing heavily, noses touching as they lay there staring into each other's eyes, Jean smiled, stroking Scott's silky hair.
"So… are you going to ask me out sometime?" she asked, voice soft.
Scott pretended to be considering the question seriously. Jean swatted him lightly then started to pull away from him, telling him, "Fine, if you're going to be that way about it…"
But he laughed and pulled her back down against his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Chuckling, he spoke quietly into her ear. "Will you go out with me?"
"I'll think about it," Jean told him cheekily.
"Brat," Scott laughed, then kissed her again.
Long minutes later, Jean pulled away and looked at him with a content smile.
Scott watched her carefully, unable to stop grinning at her. "What?"
"I think my new boyfriend isn't going to be nearly as much of an asshole as my last one was."
"I don't know whether I should take that as an insult or a compliment. Or whether I shouldn't care one way or the other and just focus on the fact that I'm your new boyfriend," he mumbled as he nuzzled her neck, being very careful not to dislodge his glasses.
"Take it any way you want," Jean replied with a giggle, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of her throat.
"I think that's some kind of record for making New Year's resolutions actually happen," Scott mused, shifting and settling into the sofa so that he could cradle Jean against him as if they'd lain like that countless times. They just… fit.
"Probably," Jean agreed, snuggling into him and telekinetically covering them with the blanket than had been forgotten on the floor. Her eyes drifted closed and she felt herself getting sleepy. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again, softly. "I'm really glad I came back early. This is hands-down the best New Year's Eve I've ever had."
Scott smiled happily and kissed the crown of her head. "Me too." He noticed her breathing was starting to deepen and steady, and she appeared to be falling asleep. "Want to go upstairs so you can get some sleep?" he asked, his voice low, not wanting to startle her.
Her arm across his chest tightened and she shook her head slowly. "Let's just stay here, ok?" she mumbled in return.
"Sure thing, Jean."
Scott grabbed the remote from where it was resting precariously on the back of the sofa and turned the volume down on the TV, so that it was just a dull droning in the background. Kissing the top of her head once more, he settled in for the night, unable to believe his luck. Yes, this was promising to be one hell of a new year.
Ok, there you have it – my belated holiday contribution to the JOTT community. Hope that will keep you happy until I can get around to finishing up Evolutionary Beginnings... and that it will keep you from giving me any more grief over Wonderwall. ;)
Reviews are always appreciated, so feel free to click the little buttonat the bottomof your screen there. Who knows, it just might encourage me to write some more stand-alones (although I make no promises).