Prologue:
Even as the rain pounded on the windows and the sky remained a dull, unchanging gray, Jean felt a sense of peace and relief flow through her as the car drew closer to home. She had been at a medical conference in Boston for the last ten days, brushing up on the more mundane aspects of doctoring (as if she could possibly forget how to suture in her job; granted, it had been awhile since she'd treated anyone for arthritis), and hearing about the latest advances in several fields, as well as several fascinating and potentially groundbreaking drugs about to hit the markets. Although her calling was the science of genetic mutation – her life revolved around it – she had found it refreshing to rediscover what had drawn her to medicine in the first place: the thrill of saving lives, pure and simple. There wasn't anything else on Earth that could possibly get anyone through a medical internship.
Even as she'd enjoyed the conference, she'd also taken the time away as an opportunity to sort out her "problem": namely, the triangle that seemed to have developed between herself, Logan and Scott. She'd been frustrated for months, not only with the eternal pissing contests between the two men, but more with her own inability to make a decision. Sure, she was with Scott, but all three of them knew that her heart wasn't really in it. Accordingly, she'd left with every intention of coming to a conclusion about the matter, or at least coming a sight nearer to one. Once again, she considered the two men and what they offered. Scott was everything a girl could dream about: handsome, strong, steady, charming, and incurably sweet. They were perfect for each other; hell, they were practically an institution. He worshipped her, adored her, and would until the day he died. And yet, the fact of the matter was that being worshipped just wasn't enough. When Scott made love to her, he treated her as if she would break or disappear at any second. Unless they were fighting (which was a rare occurrence indeed), he was deferential. While he took obvious pride in her accomplishments, he was far too practical and tactile to keep up with her intellectually. So, she'd realized that while she loved Scott, she wasn't in love with him. How could anyone possibly share a life with someone from atop a pedestal? It couldn't be done, which left Logan: a wild card if ever there was one.
If she was an object of adoration to Scott, the opposite was true of Wolverine. Around him, Jean felt something akin to prey. Everything was primal: they each became something to be had and ravished and then, if the pattern held, left until the next time the beast overcame them. Logan was impossible to predict or hold down, and always a force to contend with. Perhaps it was this reason that made him impossible to get over; but in any case, Jean knew that she needed more than that in a partner. She needed to be cherished, she needed some security, and neither of these seemed to be an option with Wolverine. Granted, his almost father-like interactions with Rogue seemed to belie that, but Jean had a sneaking suspicion that the credit for his interest belonged to the girl, who was, in her experience, occasionally charming, completely intriguing and always impossible to deny. Not to mention damn sexy in X-men leathers, Jean thought to herself, and promptly wondered where in the world that particular thought had sprung from.