Tenderheart
The gym was always blissfully quiet at 3am, and Jean thanked whatever, or whoever, was watching that it was. Logan had left three weeks ago with Ororo and Kurt, apparently taking Phoenix's calm with him. Jean hadn't been able to sleep and found keeping her temper to be a task in itself. She fought to keep her mental shields in tact against the battling alter ego, taking her frustrations out on whatever she could in the wee hours of the morning. It wasn't like Phoenix was going to let her sleep anyway.
Slowly and steadily her body adjusted to the lack of sleep she was getting, but it still frustrated Jean that she couldn't sleep. This in turn, stirred Phoenix and resulted in a constant circle of anger, frustration and disappointment. She was sleepless and cranky, numerous times pondering the idea of going to Xavier and getting the barriers replaced.
"Jean?"
She was working her way through a complex routine that Logan had shown her, the same routine he attempted to use when his own animal battered at his sanity. Her concentration shattered and she fumbled, glancing over at Scott seconds before she hit the mat. The object that had been floating from the power singing through her veins dropped with a clatter, causing them both to jump and wince.
"Sorry," he apologized.
"No, I'm sorry. I can't always control Phoenix and that's really the only release I've got. What brings you down here?"
"Same as you," he assumed. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Yeah." She considered him for a moment. "Spar with me?" she requested. Immediately, she felt a jolt of fear slip through his mind and something squeezed her heart.
"No mutations," she proposed. "Just good, old-fashioned, hand-to-hand combat."
Her chest was already heaving from the exertion she'd put her body through and her skin shone with sweat. Her hands were perched on her hips, pushing against the red fabric of her body-hugging tank top. His eyes subtly travelled over the ensemble, paired with a tight pair of sweatpants, and something in Scott's blood reminded him that she was gorgeous.
"Scott?"
"Sure," he finally agreed and couldn't stop the flutter of his heart at the grin she flashed him. He stepped onto the mat, moving to stand in front of her.
"Let's try and keep it bloodless too," she suggested, knowing it wasn't necessary but suggesting it nonetheless.
"Never," he agreed, amusement colouring his voice.
They began slowly, circling each other, lashing out quickly then retreating, never going too far to leave themselves open for an attack from the other. Both played safe, exactly as their 'rule book' said, the same book that controlled most of their lives. The battle was defensive, neither moving too far out of their comfort zone.
Then Scott saw his chance, aiming for the side of her head. Jean cried out, instinctively blocking the blow with telepathy. A flicker of fear that she didn't need to feel, swam over his face, but was gone just as quickly. Instead, he grinned, realizing this could be a better fight than he'd thought.
"No powers," he reminded her anyway and she blushed in apology.
"Habit," she explained. "Sorry."
Scott accepted it and they began circling again. Jean almost groaned with the monotony, remembering how fighting with Logan – though she was well aware he held back – was never predictable. Seconds later, it was her turn to feel the sting of triumph as she kicked out her feet, sweeping his legs from under him. Before Scott was fully aware of it, Jean had him pinned to the floor. They froze, chests heaving against each other and bodies pressed together.
This is right, Scott's mind sighed.
This is wrong! Jean's screamed. It was enough for Jean to roll off of him and stand smoothly, offering a hand to help him up. He took it, holding it slightly longer than necessary and causing her to shiver as he caressed her wrist in letting her go. They strolled to their towels.
"Have you heard from Logan?" Scott asked, wiping the slight moisture from his forehead. Germany was where they'd gone to find a camp of particularly violent mutants hunting in the countryside. Normally, Xavier would have left the issue to the local authorities or left the mutants alone completely. The problem was they were hunting whatever they could, human or otherwise.
"Nope," Jean answered. She'd hoped for it but never expected it. Logan had specifically told her before they left that he probably wasn't going to be able to talk to her while they were gone. Still, the original mission had only been estimated a week and she missed him terribly.
"Ororo checked in tonight. She says the hope to be home by the end of next week."
Jean resisted the urge to wince. Another week? "Did she say how it was going?"
"They had a little bit of trouble, but other than that apparently they're on track." He told her and she knew he was watching her for a reaction. But Jean wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.
"Did she say what?"
"Not specifically. She didn't want to talk long."
"They close?"
"I assume so. Even still, they'll have to negotiate with the mutants to stop their hunting of humans." Jean considered the team Xavier had sent for a moment: Kurt, the translator, Logan, the just-in-case muscle – though, in all honesty, from what the professor described, maybe even Logan wasn't strong enough, even with help from Kurt and Ororo – and Ororo, surrogate negotiator since Hank was busy with the government.
"Ro's good. They'll do it," Jean said with a bright smile. She absently folded her towel, her mind deciding on whether it was a good idea for her to interrupt Logan with her telepathy.
"You going to bed?" Scott inquired, missing the battle waging in her conscience.
"Yeah," she answered, looking up. "Thanks for fighting with me."
"Sure," she heard him faintly as she left. Instead of actually heading to her room, however, she moved off to her lab, needing the silence, solitude and something to occupy her hands.
It didn't surprise her that Logan didn't check in. As much as she'd admitted to Ororo that he did have the habit of calling her when he was out, he had had the presence of mind to at least warn her that the chances of him calling were slim. The problem was that she missed him terribly. When she thought about it, she knew it was insane. Or, maybe not. Scott had been making sure he was spending as much time with her as possible, sitting close beside her when they were in the den, catching her at the end of classes, eating lunch with her at break…
She didn't want to talk to Logan about Scott's… interesting… change of character. Not a chance, but she did believe Logan's presence discouraged Scott. It was cruel, using Logan to keep Scott away, but as hurt as she was at Scott's blatant rejection in the beginning, she didn't have it in her heart to tell him off.
And she flat out missed Logan.
Her head was pounding now, from over-thinking and ignoring the pounding Phoenix was doing. She settled her head on her arms, resting on her desk. She'd close her eyes for a minute, that was it…
Jean awoke the next morning with a headache she was sure was going to split her skull open. The last time she could remember something this bad was in the beginning, after she'd worn her brain out with telekinesis. She was ready to chalk it up to sleep, but when she couldn't open her eyes, she knew it was most likely worse.
Jean? The redhead winced at the volume of Xavier's mental voice.
Yes professor? she managed weakly in reply.
Are you all right? Xavier's mental voice had softened and Jean relaxed slightly.
Just a headache, she replied. I'll be fine.
You haven't been sleeping. It was a statement and Jean groaned, realizing she'd forgotten to put energy into her shields.
Are you up for classes today? Xavier asked.
Jean seriously considered the option for a moment. I'll be fine.
Jean… the professor warned.
Are you encouraging me to take a sick day?
The professor chuckled. Headaches and mental abilities do not mix well, he reminded her. Jean kept her head buried in her arms, away from the harsh light of the lab. Finally, she sighed heavily.
My lesson plans are in the binder on my desk, she relented finally.
I'll have Hank bring your breakfast and take your classes.
Can you ask him to come and get me first? You know, since you're already getting him to check on me? The latter was said affectionately.
Xavier chuckled. Get better.
Hank stepped in not fifteen minutes later and tapped Jean's shoulder gently.
"Can you walk?"
"How'd you get here so fast?"
"Danger room," he answered swiftly, taking Jean's lack of acknowledgement as a no. "I'm going to need your help a bit here, Jean."
She smiled slightly at the diplomatic tone of his voice. "Okay. What do you need?"
"You to stand up and help here. You're going to need to jump a bit to get on my back."
They managed to get her on his back securely without jarring her head too much. Jean, however, still sighed blissfully when she could bury her head between Hank's neck and her arm.
"You're a hero," she stated. "No matter what other people say."
Hank, who'd left as soon as she was safely tucked in bed, and in more comfortable clothing than her work out clothes, knocked on her door twenty minutes later, not waiting for her response before letting himself in with a tray.
"Jean?" he called softly, noticing her closed eyes and relaxed face. He could only assume that with her eyes closed – as well as every drape and blind – her headache had eased slightly.
"I can't eat anything," she protested, looking up at the blue man.
"Dry toast and orange juice," he returned. "You have to eat something."
Jean groaned, but sat up carefully. "All right."
"And Aspririn," he promised, holding out the pills for her.
"Now you're a saviour."
"How long has this…"
"My first headache," she said. "Phoenix has been fighting and I don't know why."
Hank pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm not sure Phoenix is the only reason you're ill. You're feeling a bit warm."
"I haven't been sleeping," she confessed, the admission easier to make to someone like Hank instead of her father-figure. "But I can't be sick. I have things to take care of."
"Put them on hold," Hank advised. "I don't think you'll be doing much at least for today."
"Thanks," Jean said sincerely. Hank smiled affectionately as he settled the breakfast tray across her lap instead of beside her on the bed.
"I'll check on you at lunch."
She wasn't better the next day and threw up on the third. She was miserable and Scott still hadn't let up. She didn't even have the mental strength to try and contact Ororo, Kurt or Logan.
"Jean?" She tried to bury her head in her pillows and disappear. She didn't want to deal with Scoot. Her sickness hadn't stopped Scott in the slightest, nor had the fact that Hank seemed to have everything under control. Instead, Scott felt it was his duty to sit by her bedside, whether she was sleeping or awake. Hank had finally shooed him out of the room, begging him to leave her alone for the rest she couldn't seem to get.
"Sleeping," she whispered into her pillows, willing Scott to leave. "Can't talk." She closed her eyes and buried her face further into the pillows.
"Dr Grey?" That wasn't Scott. Her eyes snapped open, slowly turning her head to look at the door where Rogue and Kitty stood.
"You probably don't want to see these…" Rogue trailed off, setting a pile of paper on Jean's desk.
"The assignments," Jean croaked out. Kitty smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry."
Jean smiled. "It's perfect," she told them. "A girl can only take so much daytime television." The teens laughed and Kitty settled the pile she was carrying on the bed.
"Mr Summers said it would probably be okay for us to sit in if you were up for it," Rogue said, Kitty running to the door and bringing in another canvas bag, making sure the door closed behind them.
"Okay…" Jean replied, eyeing the bag.
"Magazines," Kitty volunteered as she and Rogue climbed up beside their teacher and friend.
"We've got the good ones, In Touch, US, People, Cosmo…"
"Sounds awesome," Jean admitted, "Just… both of you sit on that side."
"Why?" Rogue asked as she moved beside Kitty.
"I need a straight path to the bathroom," Jean said seriously. The girls nodded sagely.
"Now, where do we start?"
Jean's flu still hadn't eased by the end of the week. She couldn't eat more than dry toast and soup and even those she had a hard time keeping down. On the bright side, her head had stopped pounding. She'd just finished another lunch and was settling in for her daily soaps when a knock sounded.
"If you don't have painkillers, I don't want to talk to you," she called. The pounding of her head may have lessened, but she still felt like she'd been hit by a transport truck. The door opened anyway, even though Jean didn't look towards it.
"Blue told me you weren't doin' so good 'n I wanted to tell you we were back." Jean's attitude changed abruptly and she threw herself out of bed, completely forgetting her illness. Logan only had a split second to brace himself before Jean rammed into him.
A split second later she was racing to the bathroom.
Logan held back her hair and rubbed her back as she retched, and allowed her to lean back against him when she was done. He easily lifted her into his arms, carrying her back to bed. He returned to her bathroom and she heard the tap run and the toilet flush. She closed her eyes. Seconds later she felt a cool cloth on her forehead.
"Thanks," she whispered, blinking her eyes open to meet his.
"Yeah," he answered. "I'll let you sleep."
"No," she said, catching his hand. "Stay. You probably need the sleep too." He crawled in beside her and she immediately curled into his side.
"You're smaller," he stated a few minutes later, his voice groggy and his hand still stroking from her hip to her ribs and back.
She chuckled. "That happens when you can't keep anything down," she retorted, not offended in the least. He was almost purring beside her and her lips quirked up slightly as she snuggled closer to his side.
"I missed you, you know," she whispered, when the soap had gone to commercial.
"The kid says Scooter's been checkin' in on you. And Blue."
She nodded. "Rogue and Kitty spent an evening here and Hank's been great."
"Scooter's not buggin' you again, is he?"
"He's been suffocating me," she confessed, knowing he'd get it out of her eventually. He'd proven that particular skill on a number of occasions. "I wanted to talk to Ororo, 'cause you're biased."
He snorted. "Still isn't gettin' a clue," he tutted. She giggled and slapped at his chest.
"Be nice," she scolded, resting her hand by her head, pillowed on his shoulder. It was how Hank found them, sound asleep, when he came with Jean's dinner.
With Logan's presence, and thus, not only no Scott to add to her stress but a calmer Phoenix, Jean's health improved dramatically as she slept through the bug. By the following Wednesday, she was back to teaching all of her classes and gaining the weight back that the illness had cost her. Logan watched her curves develop again with growing hunger.
Now, he leaned against the doorframe of her final class of the day, admiring her as she moved about, teaching and lecturing. He'd allowed his restraint around her to go slightly as she told him bits and pieces of about Scott and what his advances had resulted in. He openly stared at her, smirking slightly when she caught him, her smooth tone hitching slightly. He could smell the change in her body too.
Since he'd spent most of the time during her illness in bed with her, sleeping and chatting, keeping her company, there were few times they weren't found together at night, curled up as close as possible. It was as much because of the lessened nightmares and calmer sleep as it was the fact that they enjoyed each other's company and usually ended up falling asleep talking, before they realized they'd dozed off.
The morning Scott had walked by Jean's room just in time to see Logan emerge, shirtless, and notice the closed door to Jean's bathroom, he stepped back, but Logan was sure it was just to reassess the perceived change and change his strategy. Logan remembered fondly the look that had flitted over Scott's face when Logan had met his eyes, still watching Jean make notes on the board a the front of the room. Part of him revelled in the fact that he now, essentially, had Jean to himself, even as another part was slightly upset that there wasn't a good reason to fight Golden Boy. And that didn't even include the feelings that stirred within Logan at the idea of basically taking Jean from under his nose. So Logan never corrected Scott's assumption that he and Jean were sleeping together. Since Scott never asked Jean, he believed it.
"Logan," his redheaded goddess called from the front of the room, attracting his wandering attention. Apparently he'd been thinking hard enough to not hear the class change.
"Afternoon, Red," he greeted in reply. He interchanged the nicknames, Red for when he was feeling a bit more playful and Jeannie for their more serious conversations.
"What bring you up here so early?" Xavier had long ago asked him to take the senior students for a couple of hours to show them offensive and defensive moves, just as Jean taught them simple field medical training, or Ororo taught them to live off of the elements. It was all a training program for the next set of mutants, the junior X-men. As a result, Logan was rarely found in the upper halls of the mansion before dinner.
"You," he answered watching a blush stain her face with a chuckle.
"And what about me?" They'd been dancing around their relationship since he got back from Germany, both of them waiting for the other one to crack. Since they were both strong willed, it was a long battle.
"Just you." He backed her up against her desk, pressing his body fully against his.
"Logan," she chuckled, pushing against his chest, even as she used that leverage to help her sit on the edge of the wood. "Stop." He did pull back slightly, not wanting to upset her. Suddenly, she gasped, her face lighting up.
"I have something for you," she said, nudging against him to get him to move so she could pass.
"For me?"
"Uh huh."
"What?"
She withdrew the object from a filing cabinet, hiding it behind her back. "I know they're usually your thing…" she trailed off, bringing the brown Care Bear in front of her. She looked at it for a few moments, before holding it out to him. He took the bear gently from her grasp.
"Its Tenderheart," she said softly. "Technically, he shows how to care, but that doesn't seem to fit here. You've shown me you care. So I decided I'd give him to you so you have a physical acknowledgement that I know you care and its made a difference."
"You know," he said after a while, sensing Jean's nervousness. "You're still the only person that can make me speechless." She flashed him a blinding smile, her anxiety easing. He held the bear out for her.
"What?"
"He can't be all alone in my room. Put him in with the rest of yours," Logan requested. Jean smirked slightly.
"You just don't want to lose you're manly image," she teased with a grin, taking the bear anyway. He smirked back.
"No offence, I don't think he really fits with the décor."
Jean giggled. "Let me go change, then we can find something to do until dinner," she proposed.
"Sounds good."
"Great!" She almost bounced out of the room until Logan's voice called her back.
"Thanks, Jeannie," he said softly.
"Your more than welcome," Jean replied, blowing him a kiss on the way out. Logan stood in the classroom for a few moments, admiring the woman that had just left. She had guts, that was for sure, but he'd been touched by her gift. He smiled, shaking his head as he exited the classroom.
Ha! I finished it before camp! Actually, this was done the same night as Bashfulheart, I just figured you guys would value the update closer to when I leave rather than later. Remember, I'll be gone a week, but I promise to work my bum off on the next chapter for when I get home!
Hope you liked the turn around with Jean giving Logan the bear instead of vice-versa. Plus, soon it won't matter which room he's in wink-wink.
2 official chapters to go... might do an epilogue for fun! Or a sequel if someone can give me a kick ass, non-cliched idea for a sequel. I'm kind of tempted to actually put a little more action into a sequel with a possible offspring...
