Edited and Reposted due to writer's faulty proofreading skills.
Scott and Ro sat facing the Professor in his office. They had returned to the mansion to check on Jean but the Professor had felt it best that they keep their contact with her at a minimal for the time being. They had been waiting for over an hour quietly discussing the evening's events when the Professor finally returned.
"How is she," Scott asked?
The Professor sighed wearily before answering Scott's inquiry.
"She's calmer, Hank wanted to sedate her but she insisted that it would not be necessary, that she could cope without it. She says that she has the Phoenix back under control and that we have nothing to fear."
Scott and Ro exchanged worried glances.
"Do you believe her," Ro asked?
"Yes, I believe I do. She ceased her attack on Scott of her on volition, so I am hopeful that whatever resource she used to gain control will remain at her disposal."
Scott and Ro nodded at the Professor's answer, each relieved by his reassurance. They all sat in mutual silence for a few moments each caught-up in their own thoughts. The Professor was the first to break the silence.
"Scott…" The Professor's voice trailed off as if he was unsure of how to proceed.
Scott sat up and brought his full attention back to the Professor. "Yes?"
The Professor released a deep breath and looked at them both before continuing.
"You both know that I try not to interfere in your private lives however, considering the current situation with Jean I feel that I must say something about what is happening between all of you."
"Professor…"
"Scott, please let me just say this one thing and I will say nothing further on the matter. I do not know the extent of relationship between the two of you; I can only assume that it has progressed to more than just a deep friendship based on Jean's reaction. I know I have no right, but I would ask the both of you, before you proceed any further to consider whether or not your feelings for each other are worth the possible fallout they could cause."
"Professor…"
"I know Ororo, it is not fair of me to put the responsibility of Jean's possible reactions to this on your shoulders but I feel that it is something you should both consider before you proceed any further. Now, I am tired and I must say goodnight, I would suggest you two get some rest as well."
Scott and Ro sat in an uncomfortable silence as the Professor left the room; both unsure of how to react to his dictate. Ro turned in her chair until she was facing Scott.
"Perhaps…"
"No."
"We must consider what we are doing.." Ro paused as she contemplated her next statement. Leaning forward slightly she made sure that she was making full eye contact with Scott and then continued. "Will this be worth it, for either of us, for Jean? Are we setting ourselves up to be hurt? Whatever this thing is that is happening between us, or whatever it could be between us, will it end up destroying all of us; you, me and Jean?"
Scott slipped out of his chair and onto his knees on the floor in front of Ro. Placing his hands on either side of her, he lightly touched his forehead to hers. "We need to trust each other. To trust that what we are feeling is real enough to see us through whatever may come."
"What about…"
"Shhh, do you remember what I told you in Vermont? About being a little selfish from time to time and putting what I wanted first?" When Ro remained quiet leaving his questions unanswered, Scott continued. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I want the chance to find out and I'm not willing to give that up just because Jean may react badly. I can't, no I won't live my life any longer based on what someone else needs"
"What about what I need?"
Scott sat back on his heels at Ro's question.
"Ro…"
"Scott I don't know if I can do this. What if this pushes Jean over the edge and we don't work out? Then it would all be for nothing, we would both be hurting someone we care about for no reason."
"No one can say for sure what will happen in the future. We may work out, we may not but I think we owe it to ourselves to find out what could happen." Scott smiled and leaned toward Ro once again. "We have a lot going for us Ro, we've been good friends for a long time, we laugh at the same things, we both believe in the X-Men, the Professor's goal for the future, and sexually we click."
Ro flushed at Scott's last statement.
"Scott! We said we weren't going to mention that!"
"I know but no matter how much we try to pretend that it never happened, it did and," Scott smiled obviously pleased by the memory. "It was good Ro."
Ro smiled back at Scott as a silence settled over them; as they both remembered the night to which he was referring.
Scott found Ro sitting in the library. Looking up as he entered she looked surprised to see him and why wouldn't she be? Since Jean's death he had been basically hiding out in their room rebuffing any and all overtures of contact from everyone.
"Scott! I am so relieved to see you out of your room. Is there anything that I can do for you."
Scott grimaced at Ororo's soliciting tone, this was one of the reasons that he had stayed in his room, he didn't want to have to deal with anyone's pity or sympathy.
"No, I just wanted to let you know that I was going through some of Jean's things and I found a box of items that she kept of things the two of you did together, pictures, and I thought you'd like to go through it. If you want any of it you can have it if not…"
"Yes, yes of course," she said hoarsely, forcing the words out.
Scott gave an abrupt nod.
"Okay. Good. Can you come up now and take the things you want so I can get rid of the rest," He asked abruptly?
"Uhm, alright." Ororo followed him out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom. Scott entered the room and headed over to the bathroom door. Pausing he turned back to Ororo.
"It's in there." He said briefly. "In the closet. I'll be in the bathroom packing up her things. Take your time looking through the stuff."
Ororo waited until he had went into the bathroom and closed the door, before she went over to the closet and removed the box. Sitting down on the floor she started going through the contents, tears blurring her vision as she picked up a photo of her and Jean together. God, if it hurt her this much to lose a friend, how did Scott feel? He'd lost not only his best friend but his lover as well.
Gently Ororo went through all of the items of the box, tickets to a concert that she and Jean had attended when they were younger, a sea shell that they had found on one of their outings and photos so many photos that had captured them through their adolescence and into adulthood. Scott was in some of the pictures, playing around with her and Jean, washing the car, mowing the grass and doing general repairs around the house. Ororo lingered over a picture of him lying on his back in the grass, it had been a beautiful day that day and she, Jean and Scott had been playing around outside. Scott had taken off his shirt and was just laying back enjoying day.
Ororo tried to remember when she had fell in love with her best friends boyfriend, but she couldn't think of a time that she had loved him; first as a friend and then as something more. She had tried not to but she had discovered that emotions weren't easily controlled. But she had known from the moment she met him, she's known, deep inside that he would always be more to her than just a good friend.
"See anything you want?"
The question startled her, and she jumped, dropping the picture back into the box. She realized that he was asking in general and hadn't noticed her staring at his picture with longing.
"Yes. I'll take the box. There are a lot of pictures in here of Jean and us…if you don't--"
"Take them," he said curtly, walking into the room. He stopped in the middle of the floor and stood looking around. His face looked bleak and his mouth looked as if it would never smile again.
"I'm finished in the bathroom," he said vaguely. Everything's packed up. I…I…" Suddenly his voice broke, Ororo felt her heart break with it. Scott drew in a ragged breath, his chest heaving with the effort it took control himself.
Rising from the floor Ororo started to approach him, only to stop as he suddenly fell to his knee's in front of her.
"Dammit, it was such a waste!" He cursed violently. "Why did she do it?" Why couldn't she do it from inside the plane?"
"Scott…" She stopped, not knowing what to say to him. What could she say?
"I still wake up at night and reach for her," he said in a rough tone. I haven't even been able to put away the nightgown she wore the last night we spent together, the last time I made love to her." Scott groaned and buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders shook.
Somehow she found herself on her knees beside him, and she put her arms around him as she had longed to do so many times. Instantly his strong arms locked around her, holding her tightly in their grip. He buried his face in her breast and cried, harsh sobs that tore out of his body in great shudders. Ororo held him, stroking his hair, letting him cry; he was entitled to it, and he'd gone too long without letting someone else share in his grief. Her own face was wet, but she didn't notice the hot tears that blurred her vision. All that mattered was him, and she rocked him gently back and forth, with no words, but only her presence to shield him from the bitter loneliness that had turned his heart into a wasteland.
Gradually he quieted, and he moved closer to her, his hands moving up her back. She felt the deep breaths he was taking, then the warmth of the expelled air on her breasts. Her nipples tightened in automatic, shameful response, hidden beneath her shirt and lacy bra, and she clenched her fingers in his hair in a movement that was beyond her control.
Scott lifted his head, and stared at her, then reached out and tenderly wiped the moisture from her cheeks with his thumb. "Ororo," he said on a sigh, and touched his mouth to hers.
She went still, all breath suspended in her body, in shock surprise. Her hands moved to his shoulders, nails digging into the layers of muscle that corded his frame. It was just a simple kiss of thanks, but the bottom dropped out of her stomach and the blood rushed from her head, so intense was the pleasure that assailed her. She sank against him, her soft body melding to his from shoulder to thigh, as they knelt there on the floor. Automatically he supported her, his hard arms around the female curves of her body, holding her to him.
Scott drew back and looked at her again, his face had sharpened to awareness. He might have been grieving but he was too much of a man not to recognize her feminine response. She could tell when he dropped his gaze to her mouth, her lips softly parted and instinct drove him to dip his head to drink from her softness again. This time there was nothing light about the touch of his lips; it was a kiss that was hungry and demanding. She gasped, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth with masculine need and command, an intimate kiss that almost shattered her with delight, and she whimpered softly into his mouth. His arms cradled her to him, his body controlling hers as he took her down to the floor.
She forgot where they were, forgot everything but the man who leaned over her, his mouth hot and tasting of passion. Her digging nails telegraphing her response to him, her body warming and arching to his, seeking the intoxicating heaviness of his weight.
There was no sense of time or location, nothing but the spiraling physical need that had flamed between them, unexpected and out of control. She felt his hands on her body, touching her breasts, dipping down beneath her skirt to rub her thighs and stroke intimately between them, wringing a wordless cry of need from her lips. No word of protest surfaced in her mind. She let him do as he wanted, mindless of everything but the delight his hands were bringing to her. He knew how to touch a woman and his expertise made her wild. She offered her body for his enjoyment with no conscious thought of anything except for how sweetly, hotly satisfying it was to be in his arms, to know his kisses and his caresses.
He surged to his fee, lifting her in his arms, her weight no trouble at all for him. In a few swift steps he was at the bed, lowering her onto it, coming down to join her with a low growl on his lips as he pulled her under him, spreading her legs with his and settling himself against her in a movement as natural and as basic as breathing.
Ororo clung to him, dizzy with the need he was arousing in her, her mouth tender and fervent under his. She'd loved him for so long, and at the moment she felt as if all of her wishes were coming true. Then suddenly heaven ended. He stiffened on top of her, then rolled away and sat up on the edge of the bed, bending over to drop his head in his hands.
"Damn you," he said thickly, his voice full of disgust. "You're supposed to be her friend , but you're rolling with her boyfriend, in her bed."
Dazed Ororo sat up and straightened her clothing, smoothing her hair. She heard the accusation in his voice and found that she couldn't get angry with him; she understood how guilty he was feeling, and how emotionally vulnerable he was, the emotional storm he was going through.
"I was her best friend," she said shakily.
"You're not acting like it!"
She slid off the bed, standing on wobbly legs.
"We're both upset," she said to his bent head, and her voice was wobbly. "We both went a little out of control. I loved Jean like a sister, and I miss her too." She began to retreat, she had to get out of there. "There's no need to feel guilty about it; there wasn't anything really sexual about it. It was just that we were both so upset…"
He shot off the bed, his face wrathful.
"Nothing sexual, hell! I was between you legs! Another minute, and we'd have been having sex! What would you have called it then? Would we have been comforting each other? My god, you wouldn't know sex if it bit you on the leg! You're too much of a goddess to let yourself feel anything that a mere mortal would!"
Ororo spun around her eyes stricken. Her generous mouth trembled.
"I don't deserve that," she whispered, and bolted for the door, flying down the hall before he realized that she was leaving. He rushed to door after her.
"Ororo!" He yelled furiously. He stood in the doorway and watched as she disappeared up the stairs to her attic bedroom; then he slammed the door shut and cursed violently for several minutes. Damn! How could he have said that to her? She was right; she hadn't deserved it. He'd lashed out at her because of his own guilt, not just over what had happened tonight, but over the years he'd spent looking at her and wanting to take her to bed, even though she was Jean's best friend.
Scott didn't think she realized the challenge she was to men. She was so cool and distant, so complete unto herself. She made it pretty plain that she didn't need a man for anything beyond casual companionship. He remembered the first time he had realized he had wanted Ororo; it had been at a party for he and Jean. He had been impatient to leave with Jean, and then he'd seen Ororo, standing a little alone as she so often seemed to be, her white-blond hair twisted up on top of her head, her face wearing a distant mask. Was she never hot or mussed, outside of the danger room he'd wondered. Never fidgety? He'd thought of how she'd look if he'd had her in bed with him, that pale hair tangled by the wildness of their passion, her mouth red and swollen with need, her body dewy with perspiration. His own body had suddenly become taut, swollen with need, and he'd had to turn away to disguise his condition. How he had he resented her and his own body's reaction.
He'd loved Jean and was faithful to her, totally satisfied with her in bed, but there always remained, in the back of his mind, the knowledge that he wanted Ororo. If she'd given him the come-on would he have remained faithful to Jean? He wanted to think so, but he couldn't be certain; look what happened the first time he kissed Ororo! He'd been ready to taker her right then, on the floor, but he'd had a moment's concern for her skin and he'd lifted her to the bed, a break in his concentration that had eventually stopped him.
He couldn't leave it like this he had to make this right. Jean would have read him the riot act for hurting Ororo.
Ororo curled numbly on her bed, tears flowing freely. She felt battered, her insides torn apart with hurt. When the knock sounded on her door she was tempted to ignore it, because she knew who it probably was and she didn't feel like talking to him. Rising and going over to the door she opened it.
"Ororo, I didn't mean…"
"I don't want to talk to you," she interrupted, his voice shredding her even more and she began to weep in earnest.
"God, you're crying," he groaned, a harsh masculine sound that filled her with equal portions of pain and longing.
"I said I don't want to talk to you!"
"Ororo, please I just want to apologize. I was wrong and I had no right to say those things to you. Please let me in so we can talk."
She didn't extend a verbal invitation; she couldn't. Instead she stepped back and opened the door fully, and he moved past her into the room.
"I am so sorry for what I said. You didn't deserve it and it was in no way true."
Ororo looked away from him unable to look him in the face.
"I understand. We were both…"
"Upset. I know." He gave her a crooked little smile as he interrupted her. "But upset or not, it doesn't excuse my behavior. I never should have lashed out at you. Can you forgive me?"
Ororo wet her lips, a part of her wanted to forgive him instantly but another was more cautious, afraid of being hurt again.
"I…" Ororo faltered as she looked at him he seemed so earnest and she couldn't find it in her not to forgive him. "I…of course I do."
Scott smiled in obvious relief.
"Thank you." Moving forward he wrapped her in a hug and pulled her close. "Thank you. I don't think I could stand not having you in my life as well."
Ororo smiled softly against his chest.
"That is something you never have to worry about; I will always be here for you."
Scott leaned back and regarded her soberly. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek with his forefinger, then slid his hand around to cup her chin in his palm. He leaned toward her and Ororo went weak with anticipation, her eyes widening as fevered delight shot through her. He was going to kiss her again. Lightly his mouth touched hers, his lips moving with tender expertise and Ororo's lashes fluttered, then slowly closed. With a sigh she swayed even closer to him; he needed no further encouragement than that. Locking his arms around her, he pulled her up against his chest and gradually deepened the kiss, as if he were wary of going to fast for her, giving her time to accept or reject each new move. There was no question of her rejecting him.
She felt the heat of his body burning her through the layers of their clothing, and the warmth called to her, drew her closer. She wound her arms around his neck and eagerly accepted the more intimate intrusion of his tongue. A naked, wanting heat began building in her, and she wanted to be closer to him, to mold herself against him so tightly that his flesh would be hers.
His hands moved restlessly over her back, sliding down to her hips to bring her flush with the evidence of his desire. She sighed and moved her hands up the strong muscles of his back and he shuddered in delight, and something more.
His hands were all over her, stroking her as if to stake his claim and she leaned against him, her eyes closed, shaking a little as waves of pleasure assaulted her, each one stronger than the one before. With a harsh impatient sound, he quickly tugged the zipper of her skirt down and slid the garment past her hips to the floor, then quickly dispensed of her shirt and her bra freeing her breasts to his hands and gaze.
Ororo moaned softly as he cupped both of her breasts in his palms, kneading her soft flesh and gently pinching at her nipples. "You're so beautiful," he groaned and the rough desire in his voice made her feel beautiful. She loved the way the mounds of her breast filled his palms, hardening and thrusting out to seek his touch.
Abruptly, he pulled her tightly against him once more and kissed her with blatant hunger. With his tongue, he told her what he wanted to do, and the symbolism was unmistakable. Ororo gasped under his mouth, seeking air to feed her starving lungs.
"Scott…please!"
She didn't know if she begged for mercy, or for more of the pleasure he was giving her. Her body was growing heavy and liquid, and a deep inner throbbing made her move restlessly against him.
"Yes," he said against her throat, interpreting her plea as he chose. He bent her over his arm to give himself access to her tempting breasts, and she gave a thin cry when his hot mouth closed over her nipple, sucking it strongly into his mouth. Blackness swirled over her, a warm velvet blackness that blocked out any reservations she may have had about being with him. She instinctively sought more of the pleasure he offered her. Her hands roamed his body as his roamed hers, impatiently brushing away the layer of cloth that separated her from his hard muscled flesh.
Scott groaned as he finally stripped her of the last of her clothing and revealed her body to his gaze. Her breast were exquisite, her nipples hard, elongated and pointed, begging him to taste them. And between her thighs, the flesh of her mound was waxed clean and bare. Not a wisp of hair remained, and it glistened. He was unable to resist, unable to stop himself from running his fingers through that thick glaze of desire and bringing his finger to his mouth for a taste. He wanted more, he wanted it all.
Letting out a groan of need he edged them toward the bed and stretched them out. His lips ground down on hers as he rose over her, his tongue conquering as it captured hers. He bit at her lips, licked them, sucked her tongue into his own mouth as his hands went crazy on her.
His palms cupped her breast, his fingers tweaking her nipples, plumping them, driving her crazy with the flashes of sensation that arrowed between her thighs, making her arch closer to the thigh that suddenly wedged itself between hers.
"Yes," his voice was a hiss of approval as she moaned at the caress.
His lips left hers to travel to her neck his teeth scraping her flesh as his lips and tongue had her crying out at the sensations he produced there. Scott braced his body over hers a muscled thigh pressed tightly between her legs as she rode it languorously. She could feel the moisture of her desire seeping from her body and coating his flesh as well.
Her nails bit into his shoulders as his lips moved to her breasts, his tongue stroking one nipple with quick, hot flicks of his tongue.
"I can't wait any longer, Ro," he gasped against her nipple, his teeth scraping against it as she cried out.
Moving down her body he flicked his tongue against her flesh as he went. Hot need coursed through her veins; he wasn't giving her time to assimilate the sensations. She screamed out his name when his mouth suddenly covered her clit, and outside the whether reflected every sensation as thunder and lightening lit up the night sky.
Then he was rising above her, pulling her thighs apart; Ororo could feel his rock hard erection as it slid along her skin. His face was flushed and tight with need.
"Now," he growled.
She felt him push past her opening and he plunged inside her; filling her completely. Ororo couldn't breath for the pleasure, almost finding her release from his entrance alone.
Scott arched over her, bracing his arms at her shoulders as she wrapped a leg around his hip. His tongue speared into her mouth as his hips began a steady tempo that had her gasping for breath, for release.
Scott could feel her inner muscles gripping his flesh; trying to milk his orgasm from his body . He didn't want it to end, not yet but he had no choice; he had dreamed about her for too long. He rose to his knees, his face a mask of desire as he slammed his hips against her; holding her thighs apart he continued to drive them both over the edge.
Ororo's nails bit into his arms, raking his flesh as she writhed beneath his pounding hips. When her release struck, she couldn't scream. She couldn't move, she could only gasp, her vision darkening as the explosion tore through her body. But that was okay because the wind outside screamed for her, thunder rumbled and lightening flashed giving voice to what she herself could not. She heard Scott cry out as well but only the driving flesh between her thighs commanded her attention. The involuntary tightening of her flesh around his erection, the sharp painful release that wouldn't stop. She was going to pass out.
Scott pushed himself toward his own release as he felt her spasm around his heated flesh. The multiple releases ripping through her body were too much for her. She was dazed, uncomprehending as he tried to hold her to him. Finally with one last push into the heated depths of her flesh he felt his own release rip through him.
Scott was breathing roughly as collapsed over her. Ororo was limp beneath him, her breathing shuddering in and out of her body as she lay unconscious beneath him.
"Shit," he whispered, wiping the sweat from his brow as his as his body shook from his own release.
It had never been that good. Never in all the years he had been having sex had a release ripped through his body like that. Suddenly weary, the scratches on his arms and shoulders from Ororo's nails throbbing like badges of courage, he grinned tiredly and lay down beside her. He would rest for now until she woke up. They had a lot to talk about.
Ororo woke slowly, peeking through her lashes to see the bare spot on the bed beside her. She breathed in shaky relief, thank god he was gone. What had she been thinking? He was still grieving for Jean. She licked her swollen lips slowly, feeling the sensitivity there, as she did in the rest of her body. She ached, between her thighs, her breasts. She hadn't expected the sensation, the intensity of the pleasure that bordered on pain. It had never been that way before. She hadn't been expecting it, and she wasn't sure she could handle it again.
"I have your bath ready." Scott's voice was smooth black velvet, drawing a gasp from her lips. She clutched the blanket to her breasts and turned her head slowly. He was propped against the door frame of the bathroom, dressed only in his jeans, his erection bulging beneath the material. She licked her lips again, then nearly gasped as, Ro would swear if anyone ever asked, his eyes flared behind his shades as he tracked the move. His shades. How he had managed to keep them on the whole time they had sex was a mystery to her.
"I'll bath later."
"Ro…"
"No, I think it's best if you leave."
Scott sighed.
"Don't do this. We need to talk."
Ro glanced away from him.
"I can't, not right now. Later. We'll talk later."
Scott stood silently for a few moments and then nodded in consent.
"Alright we'll do it your way." Coming over to the bed he leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I don't regret this and I don't want you to either. You're a good friend Ro and I don't want to lose you." Scott straightened up and picked up the rest of his clothing and his shoes. Going to the door he looked back at Ro one last time before he let himself out.
Both of them came out of the memory and Ro smiled down at Scott.
"It took us over a year to finally have that talk," she said softly.
"Yes it did," he murmured in agreement.
"Scott we agreed that that happened because we were both grieving and seeking comfort, comfort that went too far and we said we would never bring it up again."
"I know, but Ro it did happen and it was good, we were good and I think we deserve the chance to find out exactly how good we can really be together." Scott rubbed his hands along her thighs as he spoke, trying to convey through touch how much he wanted them to have a chance. "We can do this; give us a chance."
Scott waited quietly for Ro to answer. Where they went from her was entirely up to her.
Ro didn't know what to do, she wanted a chance with Scott, but at the same time she was scared of what their relationship might do to Jean. Jean who had attacked Scott tonight because of what she feared may happen between her and Scott. What would she do if her fears were proved correct? The Professor believed that Jean had the Phoenix under control but what if he was wrong? Could they take the risk?
Ro looked at Scott and thought back to all the years she had spent wanting him, loving him and now here was her chance to make it happen, was she willing to give it up because of how Jean could react?
Scott started as Ro suddenly reached out and touched his face. Looking up at her he sees her start to smile.
"Ro?"
"Yes, I want to take the chance. I want us to take the chance." Leaning forward she lightly pressed her lips to Scott for a few moments. "But I think we still need to go slowly, to give us all a chance to accept what is happening."
Scott flashed her that smile that she loved so much and nodded in agreement.
Down in the med lab Hank sat quietly next to Jean and held her hand as she cried into her pillow. Turning her face to his she says quietly, "I've lost him."
Hank smoothed her hair in a gesture of comfort, leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead and said, "I'm sorry."
Jean turned her face back into the pillow but Hank was able to pick up her mumbled words.
"So am I Hank. So am I."