This is a rather belated birthday present (a full year and bit late, as a matter of fact) for Sue Penkivech, who has been bugging me for a year and a half (at least) to write a Bobby/Jean friendship fic. Well, here you go, my friend. Better late than never! I hope...

Disclaimer: I don't own them, etc, etc.

Comfort and Joy
by Jen1703

Snow was falling softly, light and fluffy, clinging to everything it touched. Boughs of evergreens groaned under the weight, bending to sweep the powder-covered ground. It was beautiful, a scene worthy of songs and Christmas cards. It brought little holiday cheer to the woman watching the scene, however.

Jean stared out the window at the Institute's grounds, which were completely blanketed in white. The snow gave the night a surreal kind of glow that had nothing to do with the warmth of the lights pouring through the windows down on the main floor, where Christmas festivities were in full swing. A glass of wine in one hand, her other arm was wrapped around her own waist as she leaned her shoulder against the dark mahogany frame of one of the library's massive picture windows. The room was dark, lit only by the snow from outside and the faint light from the hallway behind her.

It was the first. Her first Christmas without Scott. He was downstairs with the others, Emma no doubt on his arm and looking stunning. Jean had slipped from the party when she'd spotted them, trying desperately to wash away the lump in her throat with her wine. The pain at seeing them together had lessened slightly over the past while, but from time to time it would strike her like a physical blow, fresh and new and breath taking in its intensity. Which was what had happened downstairs. Seeing them together, so happy, celebrating with Jean's friends – no, her family – had simply been too much.

The snow, assisted in large part by her wine (was it her fourth glass? fifth…?) was having a calming, almost hypnotic effect on her. She stared out the window, imagining that she could see the exact spot where each flake landed. The wind gusted, swirling the snow in a miniature vortex before settling once again.

Frost was creeping around the edges of the window, growing and spreading quickly, forming a beautiful, elaborate pattern. Jean's lips turned up and she smiled gently. Even without her telepathy, she'd know who had joined her – she was looking at his personal calling card.

"Why aren't you downstairs with the others?" Her voice was soft, so as to not ruin the mood of she'd created for herself.

Quiet footsteps crossed the hardwood floor and came to a stop next to her. The frost branched out further, curling and extending towards the center of the window, framing an opening through which she could still clearly view the winter wonderland outside.

"Got bored of 'em," Bobby replied, and he was close enough that she could feel his accompanying shrug. "Wanted to find better company."

Jean glanced up at him, a crooked smile on her lips. "I'm afraid you're out of luck." Taking a sip of her wine, she faced forward again, looking out through Bobby's frame of frost.

"Nah," he contested, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he nudged her arm. "Company doesn't get any better than you."

She laughed softly, a quiet puff of air through her nose, but said nothing. Bobby was uncharacteristically quiet for a few minutes, simply standing beside her, watching the snow fall.

"You know he's an ass, Jeannie," he said finally. "I love the guy, but even I know that."

Shaking her head, Jean closed her eyes. "No, he's not. He deserves to be happy."

"Not if it means hurting you," he argued stubbornly.

"Bobby," she began, then trailed off with a sigh. Opening her eyes, she continued to watch the snow. "He didn't set out to hurt me. It just… happened."

That didn't make it hurt any less, but she knew it was the truth. Scott wasn't a bad guy, not by any stretch of the imagination. Yes, he had his faults – she knew that better than anyone. But he'd been vulnerable and weak when Emma had made her move, and he hadn't been able to resist. Nor had he wanted to. That had been the hardest thing to come to terms with – the fact that he hadn't wanted to avoid hurting her, the fact that he'd wanted to be with Emma, despite everything.

Bobby wasn't done, apparently. "He doesn't love her."

Jean turned sharply to look at him, voice hard, cold, and slightly raised. "Yes. He does." Closing her eyes again, she turned back to the window. "Sorry," she mumbled, opening her eyes and taking a sip of her wine.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders and tugged her towards him. Swallowing hard, she leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Again, he was quiet for a long moment. So much so that she began to worry. Glancing up at him in concern, she saw that his jaw was set as he stared out the window. His gaze dropped to hers, however, after he felt her move. She offered him a wan smile and sighed. Before she could say anything, Bobby's other arm went around her and he pulled her against his chest, hugging her fiercely.

"You're worth a thousand of her," he said, voice a harsh whisper.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and Jean clenched her eyes shut to fight back the tears. She'd been doing so well keeping it together, but Bobby had somehow managed to undo her resolve. Wrapping her arms around him, being careful not to spill what little wine was left in the glass, she clung to him. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and held her tight with one arm, stroking her hair soothingly with the other.

She couldn't put into words how good it felt to be held again. This was the first time she'd let anyone comfort her since the whole Scott/Emma fiasco came to light. Jean was the strong one – the supporter, the comforter, the surrogate big sister-slash-mother to the others. Nobody needed to worry about her, nobody needed to comfort or support her. She could take care of herself.

Except, no matter how much it cost her to admit, she couldn't always.

Still, she refused to let herself cry. She'd cried enough over Scott, though always in private. He wasn't going to get any more of her tears. Instead she just held onto Bobby, taking the comfort offered by one of her oldest and dearest friends.

"Love you, Jeannie," he told her, voice soft and gentle.

Jean smiled into his chest, squeezing him tightly. "Love you, too."

"Y'know, I think you're the only girl to ever say that to me and actually mean it," he mused, the humor obvious in his voice.

Laughing, Jean pulled back from him slightly and smiled up at him, thankful for the lightening of the mood. "That's because you're too good for any of the girls you've ever dated," she pointed out with a rather impish grin, rubbing his back.

And it was the truth. The only girlfriend of his Jean had had ever approved of had been Lorna, and that hadn't ended well at all. Despite their somewhat messy break-up, however, she knew Bobby had still harbored feelings for the green-haired girl – and Jean suspected it just might be mutual. Not too long ago, as a matter of fact, she'd heard through the grapevine that things between Lorna and Alex had been rather rough as of late, and Jean was pretty sure that the next time they broke up, it would be for good. Maybe there would soon be a second chance for Bobby.

"You need to start letting me find you your dates," she informed him, nodding seriously.

"No use," he sighed dramatically, lips twitching with the effort of not grinning. "My heart has always belonged to this unattainable redhead I know." He winked at her.

"You're incorrigible," Jean pointed out with a smile.

He nodded and grinned. "Nope!" Then Bobby tightened his arms around her, lifting her feet off the floor as he hugged her fiercely. Jean laughed and hugged him back.

Once he'd set her back down, she pulled back, leaving one arm around his waist, him leaving one arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. Standing there together, they peered out at the postcard-like scene beyond the window.

"Wanna head back down?" he asked softly after a few minutes, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Honestly? Not especially," Jean admitted. "I was thinking of maybe heading for bed."

"Want some company?" he quipped, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

That caused Jean to laugh, loud and genuinely. "And you'd pass out on the spot if I actually yes," she pointed out with a grin, tightening her arm around his waist. Her smile faded slightly and she shook her head. "I'll be fine, don't worry."

"I know you will," he said softly. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you spend Christmas night alone." Bobby paused, then grinned slowly, looking at her with one eyebrow cocked. "How 'bout we go out and see the white stuff close up?"

Jean arched a questioning eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Skating."

"Skating?" she repeated with a laugh. When they'd been younger, skating had been one of their favorite activities to do together. They'd gotten so wrapped up in everything the past few years that Jean could barely remember the last time she'd put on a pair of skates. They were in the back of her closet somewhere, that much she knew. Jean's lips spread into grin to match his and she nodded. "Skating sounds perfect."

After changing out of her cocktail dress and into clothes more suited for the outdoors, Jean met Bobby by the front door. The party was still in full swing, music and laughter and happy voices spilling into the foyer. Bobby was dressed for far warmer temperatures, in just a light sweater, but he wouldn't be bothered by the cold. Bundled up in her light blue parka and blue-striped knit hat, scarf and mittens, Jean had her skates tied together by the laces and slung over her shoulders.

"Ready?" he asked brightly, little boy grin firmly in place.

She spared only a half glance back towards the living room before smiling back. "Ready." And slipping her hand in his, they walked out into the winterscape, together.

END

Feedback is always loved and appreciated! But seeing as how this is my first attempt at a comic-verse story, feedback would be even more valuable. :)