A/N: Thank you all for being so patient with me, I know it's been quite awhile since I last updated. I don't particularly like this chapter (other than the beginning), it's been giving me a lot of trouble. But I do promise that this story is going somewhere. Honestly. Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews! You guys have no idea how much they mean to me!

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing except for any changes to the plot that you don't recognize.

Warning: This chapter gets slightly PG-13 later on. Also, I've decided to make this story slightly AU, as in . . . it's not going to end with the world discovering mutants and their powers. I think you'll understand where I'm going at the end of the chapter.

"Normal speaking"

'telepathically speaking'

thoughts

XxX

The buzz of her alarm clock roused a disgruntled Jean early the next morning, much to her displeasure. She'd returned to the mansion just as the first shades of pink began to brush the sky. It had been a long, yet satisfying night, even if she did feel slightly sleep-deprived from her late-night endeavor.

Gathering an armful of clothes, Jean staggered to the bathroom when a peculiar feeling fell over her, as if she were forgetting something. It was the same feeling she often had after waking from a pleasant dream where she knew it had been a wonderful dream yet couldn't recall a moment of it. As the first drops of water hit her face, Jean shrugged the feeling off and enjoyed her shower, knowing that if it was important, it would come to her.

30 minutes later with hair blown-dry and cover-up to hide the bags beneath her eyes, Jean meandered into the kitchen, stealing a chocolate muffin from a basket beside the stove. Dropping her school books on the kitchen table, she'd just brought the muffing o her lips when a deep voice startled her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Nearly dropping the muffin, her eyes widened in surprise as they landed on Scott sitting on the window seat, a piece of toast in hand, and lips quirked into a smile. Why hadn't she noticed him before? "Why not?"

"Kitty just made them last night, she threatened me within an inch of my life if I told anyone they were hers. I think she wants to catch everyone unawares." There was a tenderness in his voice that nagged at Jean's memory. Where had she heard it before?

"Thanks," she smiled, dropping the muffin into the trash before moving to join him on the window seat. "So, if you've been threatened, why'd you warn me?"

He gave a shrug that was too forced to be casual. "I figured I'd save at least one person. Besides," that same tenderness filled his voice again, "You look like you've had a rough night, and I figured you could use the heads-up."

Do I look that bad? Jean questioned herself. No, she decided, she'd checked and rechecked her appearance before leaving her room. It was just Scott, he could always tell with her. Sometimes she was surprised she was the psychic one and not him; he was an expert at reading emotions. "Thanks," she smiled, and then she was blindsided with realization. That tender voice, it was the same one she'd heard last night. "You look like you've had a rough night," the words repeated themselves in Jean's head and she threw a furtive glance in Scott's direction. He looked wide awake and refreshed, hardly as though he'd spent the night crouching in bushes. Yet the voice had been his, hadn't it?

"Well, I should probably be going," he rose, "you need a ride?"

"Sure, thanks," she thankfully accepted the hand he held out to her as he lifted her to her feet. Following Scott out of the room, Jean smiling shook her head. This was Scott, her Scott, he didn't love her anymore than he had the day they met. Her smile faded into a frown and was surprised to find that suddenly that thought didn't feel as comforting as it used to.

XxX

The week stretched by as uneventfully for Jean as any week in high school could. She attended danger room sessions each morning with the rest of the X-men, diligently scrawled notes throughout the school day, tried her best to avoid any contact with Scott during school and any contact with Duncan outside of it, and spent her afternoons shut in her room with hours worth of homework. While for the other students the weekend couldn't' come fast enough, Jean was dreading it. It seemed as though all the students could talk about was Duncan's upcoming party, and that was the one thing Jean was dreading the most. She was expected to be at the party, she knew, especially after failing to show at the last one, but there was a torrent of mixed emotions wrestling within her, emotions Jean did not wish to confront.

It's not as if Scott will be there, Jean reasoned with herself, there's nothing to confront as long as he's not there. Which was partly true, Jean realized. As long as she kept the boys in separate parts of her life, she'd have nothing to confront. At least, not yet.

XxX

Scowling slightly, Scott surveyed himself critically in the mirror on the back of his door. "You sure this looks all right?"

Kurt shook his head, "Of course it looks all right! After all, Kitty picked it out, didn't she?"

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Kurt chuckled, "You look fine. May I ask as to the occasion?"

Scott's scowl deepened, "Duncan's party."

"Sorry, I must have misheard you," Kurt mimed cleaning out his ear, "did you just say, 'Duncan's party'? As in, Duncan Matthews?"

"Yeah, you heard right," Scott shrugged, "Taryn asked me to go."

"And you said yes?" Kurt asked incredulously.

Scott inclined his head slightly.

"I don't believe this!" Kurt cocked his head to the side, thinking. "Vait a minute, you've never bothered dressing up for Taryn before . . . she's not the reason you're going, is she?" Scott's cheeks took a tinge of crimson, but before he could protest, Kurt had figured it out. "You're going because of Jean! Oh, vow, going after the party-giver's girlfriend."

Scott glared at the younger boy, gritting his teeth defiantly. "I'm not going because of Jean."

"Your vords may say so, but your cheeks claim othervise," Kurt ducked, laughing, as Scott swung at him. "Say what you vant, my friend, but I know the truth. And I will take it to my grave if you vish."

Scott offered the boy a small smile, insides churning as his thoughts turned to the evening ahead. "Thanks."

XxX

Jean waltzed around groups of teenagers winding their bodies in time with music, and sidestepped those who had taken intimacy to a whole new level as she deftly carried plates of food to scattered tables. A thick strand of hair fell across her eyes and she irritably tried to blow it out of her face, seeing nowhere to set the plates so that she could tuck her hair neatly behind her ears.

"Look," a stray whisper trailed to her ears, "that's Duncan Matthews' girlfriend! Oh, she's so lucky!"

"Yeah, I'm lucky all right," Jean laughed bitterly to herself, "playing hostess for my boyfriend's party while he hangs with his friends." Spying an empty table, Jean scurried over, gratefully setting down the platters. "Where is Duncan, anyway?" She scanned the room, eyes pausing every so often on rumpled blonde hair or a letterman jacket. Her eyes widened in surprise to see a tall, slim figure leaning against the back wall, his arms folded across his chest. Watching Taryn flounce over, her lips pulled into a perfectly practiced pout, and teaser her arms around Scott's waist, white-hot jealousy exploded within Jean.

"Hey Jean, where've you been?" A heavy armed snaked around Jean's waist, pulling her close. She looked up to find herself staring into Duncan's blue eyes, all traces of jealousy vanishing. Instead, she was filled with prickling annoyance.

"Where have I been?" She asked angrily. "Feeding your guests, hosting your party, Duncan. Where have you been?"

He grabbed her wrist and twirled her onto the dance floor, "Talking with the guys. But they're gone now and I can spend time with the one person I really want." He whispered into her ear, kissing her gently down the neck.

"Duncan," she protested weakly before he captured her lips in a kiss. Jean had never been one for public displays of affection. Hand-holding, hugging, a kiss on the cheek – fine, but the tongue wrestling, bodies pressed against lockers, hands everywhere making out sessions were ones she could do without. She was disgusted by those who acted as if they couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was all fine for the bedroom, but, in Jean's opinion, hardly appropriate for areas with other people. Especially if one of those people is Scott.

"Yeah, I know," Duncan muttered. "You're not big on PDA." To Jean's relief he pulled back, resuming a standard dancing position. "So let's make it a little less public." He danced her around the other couples and to an open doorway, inconspicuously waltzing inside the empty room. The moment the door had shut behind them, Duncan's arms were around Jean, holding her body tight against his. His lips were on hers, and then they were trailing down her neck while his hands fumbled beneath her shirt, working at unhooking her bra.

This is wrong, Jean thought, this isn't how it's supposed to be. "Duncan, stop it." She tried to pull away but his hands tightened firmly around her waist, pressing her chest against his. "Duncan," she warned, his lips bruising hers again. Furious, Jean let her anger loose, the power that had been building in her mind pressing out. Duncan stumbled backwards as a wave of telekinetic power hit him, his arms wrenched from her body, Jean's bra strap snapping in his fingers.

"Whoa," Duncan groaned, staggering around the room. "Jean? What the -"

"It's OVER Duncan!" Jean shrieked, her face flushed with fury and embarrassment.

"You don't mean that," he took a step near her, arms outstretched.

"Don't you ever touch me again!" She sidestepped him, ducking beneath his arm and dashed out the door and into the crowded room.

"Jean!" Duncan called after her, but she was too far gone. She ducked around party guests, each one staring curiously at her red face and wrinkled clothes. Tears stung her eyes as the whispers began, a silent hum at first, but escalating into an excited buzz. Rising her eyes off the floor for a moment, Jean found her self staring at Scott's astonished face and Taryn's eyes hungry for gossip. In that moment, Jean felt the flood of tears breaking over her power of will. Heading for the door, she ran out into the cool night air and let the tears flow.

XxX

Jean's clothes were wrinkled, her face a brilliant shade of red, and her eyes were filled with tears. As Duncan's angry yells emanated from the doorway in which he stood, Scott quickly put two and two together in his mind. Slipping his out of Taryn's arms, he headed for the door despite her frantic protests.

"Scott Summers, just where do you think you're going?"

"To make sure she's all right," he shrugged.

"Don't think, for one minute, that if you leave me standing here that I'll take you back. You step out that door and it's over Summers!"

"Say those last three words again," Scott requested, a small smile playing on his lips.

Taryn looked slightly taken aback, "It's over, Summers?"

His smile widened, "Thank God." And with that, he ran out the door after Jean.

XxX

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