My Weather Witch

X-Men: The Movie

Angel of Neptune

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DC: I do not own X-Men.

AN: This ficlet was sitting in one of my old notebooks and I just happened to come across it. Hope you enjoy.

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It was well after midnight at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and the minutes seemed to pass like hours for a certain redheaded telepath who would do anything for a decent night's worth of sleep. Tiredness had hit her like a sack of bricks the last couple of days, but her job required her to be up and about in all the weird hours of the night. Being a doctor for a school of mutants wasn't exactly what you can call easy. It was one strange case after another around this place. It had reached a point where Dr. Grey was no longer surprised.

Jean laid back on one of the hard beds in the medical bay. God, these things were so uncomfortable. It made her feel, somewhat, sorry for the students that had to spend a night at the bay in the past. Maybe she would report this problem to Xavier when she had the time. Softer beds are a must in the medical bay, not only for the students, but also when she decided to take a small, tiny nap during these horrible long work nights. Sometimes she regretted taking this job, but the school, since it was growing in numbers rather rapidly, couldn't continue without a full-time nurse.

Alright, the job wasn't all that bad. Personally, she would rather have someone else do it so she could actually enjoy time with her husband. Scott really wasn't big on the fact that he barely saw Jean during the day. He barely even saw her during the evening hours. Jean went to bed extremely late and woke extremely early; hours which Scott spent sleeping like normal beings in the mansion.

She knew this wasn't exactly great for their relationship. Honestly, she was afraid that it would crumble; slip between her fingers. Jean shook her head lightly. She needed a vacation, for sure. However, there was no one to take her lace if she did leave for a week. The only choice she had was to wait for Beast to visit the mansion, which only happened once in a blue moon.

Jean's bright green eyes stared at the water bottle resting on the counter ten feet away from her. No, she didn't feel like getting up to get it either. A small smile appeared on her face as her eyes narrowed. The bottle began to shake as it hovered an inch or two in the air. The next moment, the water bottle floated through the air and into her slender hand. Her mutation was, indeed, very helpful at times, but even she had her moments when she wished she were normal, thanks to haunting nightmares of Annie's death.

Annie was her childhood best friend and what happened to her caused Jean's mutation to trigger when she was still very young.

They were in the backyard at Jean's house, just playing around with a kickball. They were having fun on a regular summer day. Jean remembered kicking the ball, which bounced off a tree two feet away from Annie. It rolled into the front yard. She still remembered Annie's bright smile as she went after the ball, leaving Jean to wait.

That's when she heard a skidding car come to a quick stop, followed by a childish scream. Jean felt her stomach turn. She wanted to throw up when hearing a car speed off. Her legs felt like lead, but she ran to the front yard. That's where she found Annie – in the street.

Her body was laying in a small puddle of blood that was slightly growing in size. Jean's heart began to race as she knelt down next to her best friend, whom she held in her shaky arms. Jean felt her body tense up as a nasty sensation took over. She could hear Annie's voice as she stood in a poorly litted room – which she later learned was actually Annie's mind. The room was becoming darker and darker as Annie's life force began to slip away. Jean began to panic as she tried to call to her, but the room became pitch black.

Jean swallowed the lump in her throat. She brought the bottle to her dried lips. She missed Annie still, even today. Those damn nightmares and the fact the driver who struck her got away. Annie was only a child. She didn't deserve to die so young. She was a good kid. That man who hit her… He was still alive, probably living peacefully while Annie's small coffin was six feet under. She pulled the bottle away and threw it across the bay out of pure anger. Life wasn't fair.

The sliding doors of the medical bay entrance drew open, allowing the school's weather witch to step forth as the bottle hit the ground, causing her to lift an eyebrow. Ororo gazed up to the frustrated Jean laying on the bed. She drew her robe closer over her night gown as she walked over to the telepath; something was up.

Jean was her first friend when Ororo arrived at the mansion years ago. It was hard getting around on her own. She didn't speak hardly any English. Jean tried to make it easier for her by helping Xavier teach the weather goddess. Ororo, to this day, sincerely appreciated it.

"Jean?" Ororo asked softly, coming up to her. Jean instantly sat up.

"Ro, I uh… didn't hear you come in." She mumbled. "It's late. What are you doing up?"

Ororo rubbed her forehead, squinting, "I ran out of Advil in my bathroom and I have a serious killer headache." She stated.

The telepath had to slightly smirk at the fact that the weather witch said 'killer.' The slang she picked up from her History students was pretty amusing to hear from the lovely Ororo's own mouth. "Dude, a killer headache? Bummer…" She said mockingly.

A frown appeared on Ororo's face, "Give me the God damn Advil." She snapped.

"Are we sure you don't need a Midol, dear?" Jean continued to tease as she walked over to one of the medicine cabinets. The sound of a low rumble of thunder came to her ears. Ororo wasn't in a good mood at all. The weather witch had to be in control of her powers at all times. The weather, the elements were tied together with her emotions. She couldn't afford to slip for a second. "Right. Two Advils coming up."

"So, another late night?" Ororo questioned as Jean pulled out the container from one of the cabinets. "This isn't good for you and I'm sure Scott is tired of missing out on some action."

Jean gazed over her shoulder as she placed two Advils in an empty plastic cup, "And how's your own sex life, Ro?" She remarked. "That Wolverine character keeping you busy?" She flashed a fake smile as she handed the cup over.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Ororo mumbled. "I'm nowhere near being with that guy." She tipped the cup into her hand, allowing the pills to sit on her palm. "Water?"

"Get your own." Jean replied. "And yes, Scott has been whining for some time now."

"And you poor baby can't give him what he wants." Ororo smirked lightly as a small balck cloud formed over her cup. Yes, she was lazy. Rain started to drip into the cup. She placed the Advil in her mouth and took a drink.

A small sigh escaped the redhead as she looked up towards the goddess in front of her. God, she was so beautiful. Hell, she was perfect in every possible way. She was a type of woman men would die for, but Ororo was also the type of woman who enjoyed to play hard to get.

"Jean?" The wind rider noticed her friend was starting off into space. "Jean." She stated more firmly. Still nothing. 'Jean.'

Instantly, she snapped back into reality. She smiled lightly, "Sorry." She murmured, taking the empty cup from Ororo.

"Yeah, thanks for the Advil." Ororo said. "Get some rest." She turned around on her heel and exited the lab. Jean leaned against the counter, throwing away the cup.

Ororo was right. She needed to get some sleep. Her loyal weather witch was always concerned for her well being and she was grateful for it.

The End