Alrighty, there's a small issue of me having too many reviews (WAAAY over the 85 I'd aimed for) As a result, this is going to be a multiple dedication chapter. So:
This chapter is dedicated with all of my heart to the following reviewers:
simbagirl (95th reviewer)
Dark Phoenix Force (90th reviewer)
Hi I'm Cold (85th reviewer)
Liz (for an awesome review and for wishing I'd worked on the X3 script... it would have been different, that's for sure)
and
Covered Clouds (for reviewing every chapter and always having something awesome to say)
You guys have been so awesome. To think, There's a good chance of breaking the 100 reviews with this!
Surprise
October changed to November and November slipped into December and before Jean was fully aware, it was Christmas. Christmas was, without a doubt, her favourite time of year.
Logan and Scott had both stopped trying to push a relationship with her and when December first rolled around her spirits skyrocketed. She, Ororo, Rogue and Kitty had decorated the entire mansion with red, green and white, garlands, pine, holly and mistletoe. Traditions sparked up that Jean always adored.
"Pass the flour," Kitty asked. Rogue did as asked, kneading the dough in front of her. All four women were scattered about the kitchen on the first day of winter holidays with various cookie recipes and ingredients, icing and cookie cutters. They'd decided to make a day of Christmas cookies.
"Jean? How old is this book?" Ororo asked with a laugh as she flipped through one of the open books on the counter. The redhead laughed as she continued decorating one of the completed batches of shortbread. Another decorated batch of gingerbread men sat at her elbow.
"I was looking through it the other day, trying to pick out which books would be easiest to use and I could remember making most of those as a kid," she replied, setting aside a cookie to let the icing dry.
"You guys made these?" Kitty asked in surprise. Both elder women laughed again.
"Every year," Ororo replied. "It was one of the few things that made it like home."
Jean nodded in agreement. "And every year, like clockwork, Scott used to come in and snatch a cookie," Jean remembered.
"Tried," Ororo corrected. "Jean always slapped his hand." Rogue and Kitty burst out laughing at Jean's blush.
"Smells good in here," Bobby commented, stepping into the kitchen.
"We're baking Christmas cookies," Rogue filled him in as he stepped up beside her.
"And don't you dare take any of that dough," Jean scolded, her back turned. Kitty giggled as she broke her dough into balls for the cookie sheet. Bobby blushed.
"Sorry Dr Grey," he apologized. Their next guest wasn't as apologetic.
"Cookies," Logan said appreciatively, grabbing for a cookie. As she used to do with Scott, Jean slapped Logan's hand. Unlike Scott, however, Logan fought back. Jean laughed as he pushed a hip into hers and grabbed her wrists in one hand, leaving his other to snatch a cookie and pop it into his mouth. The others watched in amusement as Logan let her go and Jean retaliated by drawing a line of icing down his nose. By that time, even Bobby, who was still a little scared of Logan, was laughing.
"You just couldn't wait, could you?" she asked, amusement colouring her annoyance.
"They smelled good," he defended. "And taste even better."
"Great Logan, compliment after you steal it," Ororo shot at him.
"I wouldn't know how it tasted if I didn't get one, now would I?" Logan responded.
"True," Bobby agreed. Jean rolled her eyes as Rogue tossed a handful of flour at him. Before Ororo or Jean could step in, Bobby had retaliated by grabbing his own handful of flour and rubbing it in Rogue's hair. Jean and Ororo winced.
"Bobby!" Rogue exclaimed.
"Who tossed flour on the floor?" Scott stood in the doorway and Jean winced. Scott had been sour over the last few weeks, snapping at everything.
"They're goofing off, Scott," she tried.
"Now there's a mess on the floor."
"It's one spot. We've had worse," she pointed out.
"Clean it up." He left, in his wake a much more sombre group. Jean, irritated beyond belief, quickly wiped her hands on a nearby towel and untied her apron, shoving it a Logan.
"Scott," she called, the other man turning. "Can I have a word?" She telekinetically opened a door just down the hall from him. She was sick of his attitude.
"What is wrong with you?" she spat, closing the door with her mind. "It's Christmas! We used to have flour fights in the kitchen all the time."
"Times are different."
"All the more reason to have fun," she returned. "We have to do something."
"We have other things to focus on…"
"They're teens, Scott," she said, her voice softening. "They can't be serious all the time."
"We need to focus."
"Scott, Christmas is my favourite time of year," she begged, knowing she was playing him. "Can we have fun until New Year's?"
"Jean…"
"If something comes up, we'll change," she promised. Then she reached a hand out and took his.
"Come decorate with us," she implored, pulling him out the door. Kitty was just passing by.
"There you are Dr Grey," she said. "Rogue and I put the last two batches in the oven and cleaned up the floor."
"Thanks Kitty."
"Um… Dr Grey? You know how you've been telling us about Christmas tradition?" the teenager asked nervously. Jean arched an eyebrow.
"Yeah."
Kitty pointed up. "Does it extent to mistletoe?"
Jean blinked, resisting the urge to groan at her own stupidity and looked up. Sure enough, the white berries and green leaves were hanging there. The worst part was that she could remember hanging that particular bunch.
"Jean its…" Scott started.
"Tradition," she interrupted, facing him. She kissed him quickly, or that was the goal. Scott's hand crept up to the back of her head, holding her to him. For Jean, it was familiar and her mind drifted back to how it had been. Finally, he let her go and Jean stumbled back.
"I…" she stuttered out before scampering off. She rushed into the kitchen, picking up her discarded apron and the icing.
"Jean?" Ororo asked, confused as to the redheads 180 in attitude. Jean looked up and Ororo could see the storm of confusion in her eyes. Without thinking twice, Ororo shooed Logan, Bobby and Rogue out, telling them she and Jean could easily finish on their own.
"They're gone."
"Mistletoe," Jean said, setting down the utensils she was working with.
"Okay…"
"Remember we hung some over the library doors?" Ororo nodded.
"I didn't until Kitty reminded me."
"You got caught under the mistletoe with Scott." Jean turned to face her friend, leaning back against the counter and folding her arms across her chest.
"It was so familiar," the redhead confided. "So normal."
Ororo's eyes widened. "It was one of those."
"I'm sure it was supposed to be," Jean admitted. "The spark isn't there, 'Ro."
"Then what's the problem?"
"He thinks it is."
Over the next few days Jean made a conscious effort not to stand under any mistletoe. It had worked and she'd settled down. In fact, as she sat between Logan and Hank McCoy on Christmas Eve, watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas – another holiday tradition – Jean found herself truly happy.
One by one people trickled off to bed as they watched Christmas special after Christmas special until only she and Logan were left. She glanced around quickly, even checking with her mind that no one was around before stopping A Charlie Brown Christmas with her mind and replacing the tape with a different one.
"Its my Christmas guilty pleasure," she admitted as the opening credits flashed across the screen.
"Scrooged?" Jean blushed, curling her legs beside her and leaning her weight onto Logan's body.
"Its funny," she told him. "I've watched it every year, after everyone's in bed."
"I'm not in bed," he pointed out, wrapping an arm comfortably around her shoulders to accommodate her weight.
"You're special," she said easily. "Plus, I'm sure you'll appreciate this type of humour."
He did enjoy the movie and the company even more so. Seeing Jean as excited as she'd been over the last couple of weeks had almost made him a fan of Christmas.
When the movie was over, Jean mentally clicked off the TV and started rewinding the tape simultaneously, bringing a small wrapped gift towards the. She blushed as she plucked the gift out of the air.
"I know it's Christmas Eve, but I wanted to give this to you when it was just us," she explained. "Merry Christmas."
"Jeannie, you didn't have to," he said, reverently flipping the gift over in his hands. She smiled softly.
"Just open it," she requested, watching with bated breath as he pulled the paper off, then opened the box that contained the actual gift.
"Jean," he said softly, looking down at he rectangular object and it's contents. The picture frame was stunning in its simplicity, silver-coloured and holding a picture of Logan and Rogue in the leaves.
"That's this past fall," she told him. "Neither of you knew I was taking the picture."
Both he and Rogue were laughing as leaves floated around them. He remembered that day, a beautiful, crisp fall afternoon where he, Jean and some of the kids were out in the leaves. He and Rogue had gotten into a leaf war and started throwing leaves at each other.
Logan was speechless.
"There's more," Jean said softly, gesturing to the box. Logan withdrew another frame, identical to the first one except for the picture.
"Christmas last year," he said, looking at the faces in the picture. She nodded. Everyone was in the picture that had stayed for the holidays that year.
"It was the only one I could find of everyone," she admitted, tracing her finger over the corner of the frame.
"Jean…"
"There's one more," she interrupted, watching and nervously fidgeting with her hands as Logan lifted out the last frame.
This one was her personal favourite of the lot and the one that had the potential of holding the most sentimental value. It was also the only one of her and Logan.
It was from their picnic in Central Park. Ororo had taken the picture after they had all eaten and were stuffed full. Logan was reclined back against a tree, Jean between his legs and his arms wrapped snugly around her. Both of them were wearing wide grins, Jean with one hand on his cheek and Logan's chin on her shoulder.
"Do you like them?" Jean asked tentatively.
"I love them," he responded, voice gruff with emotion. She smiled and sagged in relief.
"I'm glad," she said, voice quiet and affectionate.
"Thank you," he grunted, trying to reign in the emotion that was roaring through him. She kissed his cheek.
"You're more than welcome," she responded. "Now you'll always remember this place if you leave."
"No one's ever done this," he told her, being brutally honest. She shrugged.
"I was worried it was going to be too sentimental."
Logan shook his head, looking down at the picture he still held, absently picking her hand up and brushing a bunch of soft kisses to the back of it. Then he stood, retrieving a bright bag from under the tree.
"This is the first part of yours," he said, presenting the bag to her. "You can't open the card until after presents tomorrow."
"After presents? And which card?" She'd withdrawn two envelopes, one pink and the other forest green.
"The green one," he said. "Open the bag."
Inside was a new Care Bear, purple in colour. Jean giggled at the picture on its stomach: a star-shaped Jack-in-the-box, before opening the card.
Always enjoy the unexpected, the card said and Jean looked up at Logan in confusion. Logan smiled cryptically, tapping her nose.
"You'll see tomorrow. Surprise is just a preparation," he promised. Jean tried the puppy dog eyes, but he wouldn't budge.
They walked up to bed together and stopped at Jean's room first, since it was the first one they came across.
"Good night, Logan," she whispered, Surprise clutched in her hand. Logan's eyes darted about and then above her door and she almost winced, remembering how that one particular Christmas tradition had been placed everywhere they could think of.
"Its tradition," he whispered, taking a step closer to her.
"Yeah," she agreed, licking her dry lips.
"We can't defy tradition," he told her, stepping so she had to look up at him.
"Of course not," she breathed against his lips. She ended up closing the last centimetres between them, pressing her mouth to his.
Jean's mind exploded. Scott's kiss had been familiar, but Logan's was unrestrained and she could feel the tingles from head to toe. His arms wrapped around her waist and lower back, pulling her flush against his body. Her arms wound around his neck at the same moment his tongue probed the seam of her lips. She eagerly opened her mouth to him, whimpering the second his tongue touched hers.
It took all his restraint to pull away.
"Sweet dreams, Jeannie," he whispered, a hair's breadth from her mouth. Then he was gone, leaving Jean happily dazed outside her door. She looked down at the bear she'd dropped.
"That certainly was unexpected," she said to herself. She looked up at the mistletoe, her mind flashing back to the kiss.
"Sweet dreams my ass," she muttered, an affectionate smile breaking over her lips. "Bastard."
The next morning, Jean was awoken early by a pounding on her door. However, it was with a broad smile that she followed Kitty and Rogue down the hall to the living room where the large tree was situated. Jean couldn't stop the blush that swept over her face when they stopped to get Logan.
"Who's Santa?" Rogue asked excitedly, almost jumping. The other students that had stayed, mainly seniors since the professor had taken a majority of the younger students on a holiday retreat, were already gathered about the room.
"Scott?" Ororo suggested, glancing at the brown-haired man seated in one of the armchairs. He'd done it every year for as long as both Jean and Ororo could remember.
"Yeah," Kitty exclaimed. "Come on, Mr Summers!" Bobby entered then, carrying the cookies they hadn't eaten and a red and white Santa had. The latter he presented to Scott with a flourish and Christmas began.
It was hours later that all of the gifts had been opened and the teens wandered off to find food, leaving Ororo, Scott Jean and Logan behind to pick up the discarded packaging and ribbon.
However, before they got to cleaning up, another tradition had to be fulfilled first.
Four stockings sat in front of the fireplace, some stuffed fuller than others. Between Jean and Ororo they were each settled in someone's lap. Ororo and Scott started into their eagerly. Logan, on the other hand was confused.
"It's a Christmas stocking," Jean explained, not bothering to hide her sassy grin.
"I got that part," Logan retorted.
Jean's face turned serious. "When we started here, as the first kids, we didn't have what these kids do. It was just us. Since the things we gave each other were small and mainly homemade, we put them in stockings instead of wrapping them. As we got older, we just kept the tradition and we've always waited until everyone else was done, so it was just between us. Like it used to be."
"Jean made us promise to pick it up again this year," Ororo added with a shrug, knowing they'd forgone this particular tradition for a few years.
"And we included you," Jean finished with a truly happy smile.
"Thanks," Logan said gruffly.
"You don't even know if you like them yet," Jean reminded him with a blush, digging into her own. Scott, Ororo and Jean didn't need tags to tell them which gifts came from which person and Logan and pretty much assumed that his stocking stuffers were mainly from the women.
"Scott," Jean gasped suddenly, having unwrapped a larger gift her stocking had been sitting on. The cover of the book was a deep red, darker than the colour of her air, holding a picture of all three of the original X-men.
"Rogue and Kitty helped me to put it together," he admitted as Jean flipped through the pages, filled with pictures, words and paraphernalia from their years together. Some of the pictures included Ororo and others, some didn't.
"This must have taken forever," she exclaimed breathlessly, reverently closing the book and setting it on her lap, meeting the red-tinted glasses.
"It was worth it," he promised and Jean felt a flush crawl up the back of her neck at his tone and words.
"You didn't have to do that," Logan said as he and Jean made their way to their rooms, gifts in hand.
"Do what?"
"All of it. The stocking especially."
"You're one of us now, Logan. You have to be a part of the traditions too," she told him, her voice conveying the logical reasoning of the situation.
"I thought you gave me my present last night," he reminded her, stopping in front of his door, beside her. Having gathered everything and stuffed them into stockings, each of them had things that weren't theirs.
Jean dumped her armful on the bed, having preceded Logan into his room, and plopped down beside it, stretching out. Logan dropped his own collection on top of hers, looking down at her relaxed face affectionately.
"You can open that card now, Red," he told her. He'd seen her playing with the edges of the green enveloped when she thought no one was looking. She was anxious and excited. He watched her rip apart the envelope revealing the white card underneath. Her brow knit in confusion.
"A gift hunt?" she asked in surprise.
"Figured I'd make you work for it," Logan replied. Her smile was sarcastic, but her eyes showed the appreciation at the hard work.
"You going to help?" she inquired.
"Someone's gotta make sure you don't get lost," he pointed out. She bounced happily on the end of his bed. His method was less than traditional but totally Logan in the way it was short, simple and to the point.
Reading in the lab may lead to experiments-gone-wrong.
"A book?" she asked curiously, already stepping out of his room.
"I'm not telling," he responded, though the smile on his face gave him away. She pretty much yanked him down to the medlab, her excitement bubbling over in the way she bounced on the balls of her feet in the elevator. He chuckled.
"Patience," he scolded and she stopped bouncing.
"I can't help it," she said sheepishly. "Christmas is my favourite time of year." The elevator door slid open and Jean calmly stepped into the hall, trying to keep up the illusion that she was tranquil. The lab door slid open as they approached and Jean spotted the collection on her desk.
"This isn't one book," she said in awe. The books were not of any particular series, just a wide assortment of literature she'd read and wanted to read.
"How did you know?"
"Ro found your list." Jean blushed. She kept a list of books that she was looking for so she didn't forget them.
"It's not he whole list," he told her, almost rolling his eyes.
"This is wonderful," she whispered, hands fluttering over the spines of the books. He waved a blue envelope in her line of sight.
"You up for another one?" She reached for the card but he held it just out of her reach, a playful grin twitching at the corners of his mouth.
"Logan…" she whined, reaching for the card again and inadvertently pushing her body against his as she reached for the card.
"Jeannie," he replied in the same whining tone, looking down into her face. A bolt of pure lust shot through him as he remembered the way she'd kissed him the night before. Jean too seemed to remember as she blinked, suddenly stepping back and holding out a hand.
"Don't make me take it from you," she warned. He considered for a moment before handing the envelope over.
Teddy Roosevelt loved to read.
She looked up at him, partially in confusion. He'd already given her books and to give her more seemed repetitive.
"Theodore Roosevelt?"
"Teddy," he corrected, deliberately. Her eyes widened.
"You just gave me a Care Bear," she said. He smiled, watching the wheels turn in her head.
"The library," she said suddenly. Carefully piling the books to carry, then deciding against it, she turned, grabbed his hand and dragged him to the library.
"Okay," she said, stepping into the larger room. "There's a million different shelves in here, you know that right?"
"You're smart," he returned. "I'm sure you'll find it."
She huffed, but her eyes sparkled with the excitement of the challenge. Her eyes scanned the room, brain working to figure out the best place for him to hide her next gift. Then, she moved towards the American history shelves.
Theodore Roosevelt.
The bear was small and purple, a red, heart-shaped tag in its ear. The thing, however, that really caught her eye was the white rose on the bear's left side. Reverently, she lifted the bear from the shelf, setting it in her palm. Jean stepped out of the shelves, where she could see Logan.
"How do you do that?" she asked breathlessly.
"Do what?"
"This is the bear in memory of Princess Diana. Its so rare," she explained. "This and the Shakespeare…"
"It's nothing," he said.
"I wanted one of these after she died," Jean admitted, knowing better than to try and argue with him and her eyes fixed on the bear. Then her eyes met his, gratitude shining in her face. Logan only held up a purple envelope.
"You're spoiling me," she groaned, her smile betraying the seeming annoyance in her voice. Still, she opened the envelope for the next clue.
For the baker in you.
She looked at him almost in annoyance. This one was easy. This time she didn't take his hand and he found his heart missing the feeling. Still, he followed her to the kitchen and where the book was laid out on the counter.
"There's a second in the back to write in your own," he told her over her shoulder.
"This has got to have a recipe for every single cookie out there," she breathed, still flipping through the pages. He chuckled.
"That's what I thought," he told her. "'s why I figured you'd enjoy it."
"Logan," she murmured. "This is…"
"Nothing," he finished. "With what you've put up with, you deserve to be spoiled." She turned and kissed his cheek.
"Thank you," she whispered against the skin of his neck as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. His arms pulled her close.
"We're not quite done yet," he said, slowly pulling away, trying to imprint the feeling of her body pressed against his like he did every time he had the opportunity to feel it. From under the cookie cookbook he withdrew a stark white envelope, decorated at the corners with gold swirls. Jean took it delicately from his hand, taking her time in peeling the paper apart to reveal what was inside. Instead of a card, Jean withdrew a pen. She looked at him, confusion flitting across her face.
Logan shrugged. "I couldn't think up a good riddle for this one," he explained. "Come on." They walked back to his room, Logan making a beeline for his bedside table. From it, he withdrew w rectangular package wrapped in simple white paper and gold ribbon. Jean grinned as he handed it over.
"Rogue wrapped it," he said.
"Looks angelic," she told him honestly. "I don't know if I can open it."
"You're going to have to, to know what's inside," he pointed out, shaking his head. So, she carefully took the ribbon off, sliding her fingers under each of the pieces of tape and peeling back the paper. The cover of the book was midnight blue, the border and page edges silver.
The word embossed on the front and coloured the same silver clued her in. Journal.
"My Lord…" she breathed, glancing at him as he kneeled in front of her, putting his hands on her knees.
"Things are changing, Jeannie. Chuck knows things are starting to become easier for all of us and with the violence sprouting up in the cities…"
"We'll be heading off a lot more," she agreed.
"Exactly. We probably won't be on a lot of the same missions and it probably won't always be easy to get in touch. This is to help you sort out your thoughts. And maybe it'll help keep Phoenix at bay."
Tears had flooded her eyes as he spoke and she sniffled slightly, swiping her hand under her eyes to stem the wetness. Instead of thanking him verbally – believing it really wouldn't help explain the emotions racing through her – she slipped into his mind, pouring all of her gratitude and happiness into their connection. She settled her hands on top of his.
"Thank you," she finally managed, knowing the words held more significance than usual. "You've effectively spoiled me on Christmas."
He grinned and kissed her forehead in answer.
That night, after the festivities of dinner with the entire school, Jean sat in bed, flipping through Scott's scrapbook. Her heart fluttered as she remembered each of the moments he'd captured in the book. Then she glanced at the colourful collection of bears she kept on her broad windowsill and her heart constricted.
Scott was safe and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would never leave her if she went back to him. Scott would always make contact with her, no matter where he was or what he was doing and everything would be as it was before. Even if she wasn't in love with him now, she knew it was possible for her to fall in love with him again.
Logan was heat and passion incarnate. Things would never be dull with him. The thing was his brooding tendency and his independent nature, the latter of which she envied him for. She knew he'd inadvertently leave her worrying for days on end with no regard to communication. He was reckless and didn't always acknowledge danger as exactly that.
Scot was afraid of her. Yes, he loved her but she could sense the fear in him every time he was near her. He was terrified of Phoenix and argued with him self on whether or not to push Xavier to replace the barriers in her mind.
Logan adored all of her. He'd gotten angry with Xavier on her behalf when told of the limits that were put on her without her permission. Phoenix, he understood, was an extension of Jean, the animalistic part of her that called to his own.
Jean shook her head forcefully, trying to clear her mind as she felt the frustration and confusion stirring Phoenix. Without really thinking about it, she grabbed the new journal and pen from her beside table and flipped it open in her lap, pen poised to write.
Instead of the blank page she expected, she was greeted by Logan's familiar chicken scratch.
Jeannie,
I explained the use of this book to you and if you're reading this then I guess I'm safe to assume that you were planning on using it.
When I thought about giving this to you, I argued with myself. You probably don't need it. You're one of the strongest people I know and you've proven it time and time again with everything you've experienced.
You've come a long way, Red. Battling with Phoenix, battling with your feelings and relationships around you and having to find yourself again… none of those are simple things and you did it all with strength, grace and basically on your own. That in itself is a crowning achievement.
To be blunt, I'm amazed by your well of strength and compassion. You're a hell of a woman Jean Grey, and I really don't think it's possible for anyone to convince you otherwise.
Love, Logan
Unlike the time he'd presented her with the book, Jean allowed the touched tears to rain down her cheeks, grabbing Bedtime and clutching the bear close to her heart. As out of character as it was for him, he'd found a way to get through to the very depths of her heart and her insecurities and help her understand that there was someone who had noticed what she'd accomplished since her death and resurrection.
And she loved him.
Okay, I've had this bloody thing written for a week and a half! wouldn't let me upload it!
Anywho... this is the longest chapter 4716 words! But more importantly, I hope you enjoyed it, because I enjoyed writing it. I'm not sure if I could write Logan more OOC than he is here, but if you think it's physically possible let me know! LOL.
