Six months had passed since the Mostly-New, Kinda-Different X-Men had been unveiled to the world. Unlike the past of Scott's memories, time had unfolded differently. The Xavier mansion was currently undergoing some basic renovations on the main floors. Studies and libraries were being retrofitted into actual classrooms for students, with one wing of the mansion being expanded into co-ed dorms just for the eventual incoming students. Emma had even visited several times, in thankfully more restrained clothing, to provide input and collect a paycheck or two. The seasons had gone from fall to winter, with leaves browning and falling from the tree, eventually being either raked away or covered in snow.

Warren had kept in touch, as he had promised. It mostly came through monthly letters from his misadventures in California with a team called the Champions. Scott remembered seeing them on the news once or twice back in the day, with Bobby and Warren hanging out with an incredibly eclectic group of people and keeping California safe from various evil-doers. This time, Bobby stayed with the school, having found a new place with the team rather than being alienated. Perhaps the allure of being a teacher helped. Still, the Champions had found a replacement with a shiny armored fellow named ROM, and an anthropomorphic duck named Howard.

Sometimes this world was just weird.

Scott was walking down the dorm wing, looking over the construction. It wasn't remotely finished, and the place felt eerily empty. Unpainted sheetrock and unmounted doors greeted him at almost every turn, but there were still a few touches that reminded Scott of his old home. In this case, the massive second-floor window that ended one of the hallways. It overlooked the basketball court, which was also the secret escape hatch for the Strato-Jet. Scott's room had been just to the right of this window, and he'd spent several sleepless nights looking into the ruby-tinted night sky.

[Penny for your thoughts?] came a voice in his head from down the hall, one that never failed to bring a grin to Scott's face.

Jean had also stayed on, of course. Scott turned to look at his flame-haired lover coming down the hallway in his footsteps. Jean was dressed to the nines, wearing a black evening gown that Scott had burned into his mind long, long ago. Dark enough to make the night sky look like day, with long slender sleeves and a hemline that went down to her ankles, the dress seemed tame enough. Jean smiled and did a twirl for Scott as she approached, showing off the dress' plunging back, going all the way down to her waist.

It was Christmas, 1989.

Scott was wearing his favorite blue suit, and the festivities from the morning had died down around noon. Presents were exchanged, but the team had all decided that it would be best to head out to downtown New York to experience a real "American" Christmas for their international friends. However, he was still wearing his costume's visor and was even debating cancelling the whole event.

"Scott?" Jean touched his shoulder, and smiled as Scott seemed to relax rather than tense up. She lay her head on his other shoulder, "It's a future thing, isn't it?"

Scott smiled sadly, "Yeah, something like that."

"Phoenix?"

"Yeah."

Jean frowned, holding Scott close, "Well, to hell what some Cosmic Deity wants, much less the future. I want a nice night with the man I love."

Laughter escaped Scott's lips as he finally smiled with something resembling happiness, "To be fair, we're going to have to fight Sentinels first."

"I'll let you handle them, lover," Jean chuckled as she pulled Scott away from his reminiscing, "Maybe you can talk them into fighting a black hole this time."

After parking Warren's donated car, now nicknamed the "X-Mobile" by Kurt, the team of X-Men had dispersed throughout Midtown Manhattan. Logan had vanished to do his own thing, which Scott suspected somehow involved ninjas. The others on the team had decided to start with the Rockefeller Center's Ice Rink to have some fun before moving on to do some late-night sightseeing. In fact, Bobby was currently dragging John Proudstar down to the ice rink to get him to try ice skating for the first time in his life.

Scott and Jean, though, still had their dinner date at the Rainbow Room. On the 65th floor of 30 Rockefeller Center, the Rainbow Room was an incredibly fancy restaurant with some delightfully retro-inspired decor. A rotating hardwood dance floor from 1957 was still in use, making the dance floor the center of attention in spite of the delightful views out the massive floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls. A remarkably impressive crystal chandelier hung over the dance floor, reflecting whatever mood lighting the ceiling lights happened to be using. In fact, it had just been remodeled a few years ago to bring the place back to the aesthetics of 1934, when it first opened.

The Professor had scheduled their Christmas dinner as a 6 month anniversary present for two of his favorite (and, as Scott pointed out, only) pupils. The cost of a place like this was massive in 2015, but no less incredible before it had been declared a historical landmark for New York City. No matter how nice Scott and Jean dressed, Scott was entirely sure they were under-dressed for the occasion, but found he couldn't remember if they were or not. He'd find out soon enough, with only a few floors on the elevator ride left.

"No news from Alex yet?" Jean asked aloud as the silence in the elevator proved too much to avoid small talk.

Scott shook his head, "None. I know he planned to head out to the west coast to continue researching his dissertation, but…" he shrugged, at a loss.

His brother, the man known as Havok, had actually chosen to leave only a week into the new X-Men team's formation. Lorna had, of course, gone with him off to God-knows-where. They hadn't shown up when Erik the Red had confusingly attacked them a few months ago, so lord only knows what was going on with them now.

The small elevator designed for private transport to the Rainbow Room let out a soft ding as it slowed to a stop. Doors opened, and Scott was mentally thrown back in time to the first time he'd lived in 1989. A thrill of excitement caught in his throat, a remnant of when he'd been a lovesick schoolboy trying to catch up with a lost love rather than someone who was nearly 50 in the body of a 21 year old with a remarkably stable love life. Jean left the elevator first, stars in her eyes as she looked around probably the fanciest place she'd ever stepped foot in.

Scott followed Jean quickly. His chest felt tight, but not with pain. He knew they only had a small amount of time left. Scott reached into his suit's jacket pocket and ran his fingers along the visor hidden within. Good. Still there. As Scott and Jean surrendered their overcoats to the coat room, Scott offered his arm to Jean to walk her to their table.

"Have I ever told you I love you?" Jean asked, looking into Scott's eyes as best she could.

"Not tonight," Scott replied, lost in her eyes for a few moments.

"Well," she smirked, leaning in close to him, "I do, Scott Summers."

Scott was about to reply when a soft tremor rippled through Rockefeller Center. Despair filled his features for a moment before Jean saw the leadership mask slip back on. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the backup visor he'd carried with him.

Jean frowned deeply, knowing what was about to happen as well, "Someone's going to owe us a good dinner, damn it."

With that, the windows of the Rainbow Room shattered inward as enormous purple hands reached inside. Gripping the non-glass structures, the entire building was peeled apart like a rotted banana with shrieks of metal and groans of the superstructure struggling to compensate for the weight of a pair of 16-meter-tall killing machines clinging to the walls.

"PREPARE TO FACE YOUR DOOM, MUTANTS!" the first purple robot spoke up, its eyes flashing as it spoke, "FOR THE SENTINELS HAVE-"

Cyclops tore off his glasses and let loose the full fury of his optic blasts at the Sentinel talking. The robot's speech was cut off with a shuddering screech as the unbridled force of kinetic energy bleeding from Scott Summers' eyes proved too much for its reinforced body. With a dull crunch of metal, the body of the sentinel was ripped free from the arm that had a death grip on Rockefeller Center, sending it spiraling into Christie's of New York across West 49th Street.

"Interrupted our date." Scott finished as he closed his eyes and clipped on his visor.

Jean rolled her eyes as she telekinetically hefted up the spare fist left behind and punched it through the head of the second sentinel. This one stayed anchored, but slumped over into the Rainbow Room.

"That's it?" Jean turned to Scott, concern on her face as she moved to close the distance between them.

"For us." Scott frowned, knowing that several other X-Men would be taken right now as he spoke, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Professor Xavier wouldn't have cancelled his fishing trip with Super Doctor Astronaut Peter Corbeau for anything, and lord only knows where Logan had gone. Both would be kidnapped by now, and Banshee wouldn't be long in following. Turning to the Rainbow Room's exit, Scott sighed heavily, "Let's go, Jean."

Jean didn't reply.

Scott was halfway to the elevator when he noticed. Turning around, he asked, "Jean?"

The woman known as Jean Grey was standing near the edge of the hole ripped out of Rockefeller Center, staring up into the sky. Her hair fluttered in the breeze, and an orange glow seemed to surround her as she began to drift up off the floor.

"I can hear it." she spoke to no one in particular, "The Phoenix."

Author's Note:

Yanno, I just noticed something. By hammering down a date of this starting in the late-80s, I also kinda lined up with the current X-Men movie timeline. Not that it's canon, but I found it amusing.