Notes: Seriously, I have SO MUCH FUN doing the titles! Clint is so adorable when he's lost and out of his depth *ruffles his hair*

Chapter 5: Jean's In Love

When Clint caught up to K, she hadn't really said much more than that they would be staying there for a little while — just until she could figure out an exit plan that wouldn't bring the bad guys down on them.

But that meant that, for the time being, they were living in a school, and even though it was springtime and the school year was almost over, Storm had let him know that she would help him if he wanted to learn what he could while he was there. And K had seemed to like that idea, so Clint decided he should try.

Not that the thought did much for his mood.

You alright? K signed to him once they'd gotten a little removed from the bulk of the group.

Clint shrugged. I guess, he said. This isn't really… He paused as he tried to order his thoughts. I wanted to spend more time with you.

I'm not going anywhere without you.

Yeah, but there's all these people...

People don't always mean bad.

Clint nodded. I know, but I don't know them and I'm not good at school and- He bit his lip and then hugged her. "I don't want anyone else to know I'm stupid," he whispered to her.

"Then it's a really good thing that you're not," K replied.

"But I am, and now they've got it written down on a test how much I am," he whispered.

"You're not," K promised. "And anyone who says differently is out of their minds."

Clint hugged her a little tighter at that and nodded. "Are we gonna be here for a long time?" he asked. "What about Christmas? I want to go home with Barney."

"It's springtime," K said. "We have plenty of time — and I think if I don't attack anyone, I can probably get to their computers to find out where the bad guys are looking."

Clint nodded at that. "Okay," he said. He bit his lip and glanced up at her through the hug. "I liked when it was just us, that's all."

"I know," she said. "But these people have resources I can take advantage of. And it wouldn't hurt for you to try a little schooling."

Clint let out a breath of a sigh. "Okay, fine," he said.

Although Storm was working with Clint on his reading and writing, Jean had informed the rest of the X-Men that she was going to work with him on some basic math, even if Bobby usually handled the math class. She had absolutely staked her claim on the adorable little boy, and almost everyone knew better than to question her on it.

"You sure you have time?" Scott teased as they sat down over coffee could hear how excited she was about spending some time with Clint, so of course he couldn't just let it be.

"I think I know what my own schedule is like, Mr. Summers," Jean said with her shoulder shrugged up slightly.

Scott chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. "I'm just saying — there are plenty of other people who could work with him. Everybody's volunteered."

"Do you think I'm not the right person for the job?" she asked, smirking up at him.

Scott shook his head with a laugh. "I think you'll do great," he said.

"Then what," she asked, stealing a kiss. "Is the problem?"

"No problem," he said, smirking a little harder. "Just making sure you were aware that I can hear what you're thinking in there."

"You … can just … stop."

Scott smirked. "Have fun tutoring, Mrs. Summers," he said and stole one more kiss.

"I'll be looking for you when I'm done, Mr. Summers," she called back.

"I'm sure you will be."

She narrowed her eyes and couldn't help but tip his coffee away from him telekinetically just to get back at him — and to hear his laughter, even if it wasn't for everyone to hear.

When she did catch up to Clint, he had his eyes narrowed as he looked over a book that Storm had given him to work on V a beginner reader book, a few chapters long, but enough that he didn't feel like he was getting kids' books, which was a point of contention when they'd started out.

But he looked up when he saw Jean and folded the corner of the page he was on to wave at her. "Heya," he said. "So, you're doing math, right?"

"That's the plan," Jean said with a broad smile. "Do you like math?"

He shrugged. "I dunno," he admitted. "I did some flashcards when I did classes? But I didn't really… it's been a while."

"Well, we'll just spend a little time going over a few questions to see what you know already — then we'll know where to start," she assured him, still smiling warmly.

Clint nodded at that. "Okay, so like what Storm did when she wanted to know how I spelled?"

"Exactly like that," Jean agreed. "But when we're done, we can get some popcorn."

"That bad, huh?" Clint said, looking up at her with one eye winced shut.

"No, I just like popcorn," Jean said. "If you'd rather snack on something else …"

"No, I like popcorn," Clint said. "I get it all the time when we go see my brother."

Jean paused at that. "What do you mean 'when you see your brother'? Why isn't he with you now?"

Clint stopped and glanced up at her before he quickly curled into himself a bit. "He's bigger," he said. "So ... so he … it doesn't really matter. I'm not s'pposed to be telling people stuff anyway," he muttered.

Jean frowned at that and ducked her head down slightly to look him in the face better. "Clint — you know we just want to make sure you're safe, right? I'm only asking because I don't know how you and K got separated from your brother." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "If he's in danger — if we need to get him out — then you need to tell us where he is so we can help him."

Clint frowned and shook his head. "No, he likes where he is," he said, speaking mostly to his hands. "He's learning lots of stuff."

"Then I don't understand," Jean said. "Why …"

Clint glanced up at her and saw the honest confusion in Jean's expression before he shrugged and decided to try and explain at least a little bit — even if he was trying to shield his brother from these guys if he could. "Well, he's older," he said. "And it's hard for older kids to get families."

Jean was frowning deeper by that time. "So … are you telling me that K didn't want to take him too?"

"Well, she offered, but he said no," Clint said. "He likes where he is too much, and he'd already sorta picked it out before we found him." He shrugged. "When Mom found me, we were already separated. It's not her fault." He wanted to make that part clear, at least — he didn't want anyone to think that his mom was heartless or something. Even if he didn't know if these people were worth caring about… his mom shouldn't get a bad rap.

"When she fo-" Jean stopped herself and reorganized her thoughts for a moment. "Where did she find you?"

Clint blushed and shook his head. "Nowhere," he muttered quickly, suddenly realizing that he might have given too much away — and that he might get in trouble for being a runaway. Or get K in trouble because he ran away.

"Clint," Jean said, reaching out to cover his hand with hers. "We're not going to try and separate you."

Clint bit his lip and shook his head. "It doesn't matter anyway. I like K better'n anything else I got. She's nice."

"She hasn't been very nice to us," Jean pointed out. "But as long as you two are doing well …"

Clint nodded. "She's my mom, and I love her," he said in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone. "And my brother loves her too, but he's being a butt and wants to stay where he is. Which I guess is okay because he's happy — but still."

"Okay, I was just curious," Jean said.

"Yeah, everybody's asking questions all the time," Clint agreed. "Storm wanted to know how come I hadn't gone to school a lot, and I told her Mom's been trying to help me learn stuff."

"I can ask them to lighten up a little bit," Jean offered, clearly picking up on his discomfort. "We honestly weren't expecting you when we went to help her."

Clint gave her a little smile at that. "You know what? That… that's actually real good, because the bad guys that know I'm around are mean," he told her, leaning forward with bright eyes. "I don't want nobody to know I'm with Mom — so they can't use me, so I can be cover. I don't like 'em at all."

"Yeah, we've fought those bad guys plenty of times," Jean said, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she watched him. Even for as careful as he was, he kept giving her little hints of what he and K had been through prior to meeting the X-Men, and what she heard thus far had her genuinely intrigued. "They really are the worst."

"I bit one of 'em," Clint told her, grinning wide and clearly proud of himself.

She leaned forward, looking both ways before she grinned crookedly. "I made one think he was an eight year old girl."

Clint giggled at that. "Well, you better watch out, 'cause girls can be mean too, and I'm only seven and I'm pretty mean."

"You better watch out. If the one that thinks he's an eight year old girl gets a look at you, he might just fall in love."

Clint stuck out his tongue. "Gross. You sound like Mom. She keeps saying I'm a lady killer, and I am not."

"I don't know," Jean said, unable to stop herself from brushing the hair out of his eyes. "She might be onto something."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Are we gonna do math or what?"

"Yes, we're gonna do math," she said with a laugh before she handed Clint the papers and started to go over the basics with him. "Just do as much as you can."

Clint nodded, though Jean was pleasantly surprised to find that Clint seemed to do better on this one than on reading and writing. It wasn't that he'd had any more training on it; he just seemed to get it once she had given him the basic rules, even if it took him a little longer than it might normally take.

"Okay," he said, leaning back in his seat when he was finished. "That wasn't terrible — but don't tell anybody I said so."

"Wow, Clint," she said, looking over his answers and genuinely pleased. "You're good at this."

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. You just explained it and gave me easy ones."

"No, really," Jean said. "This is all very good."

Clint peered at her a little closer to see if she was joking before he let out a little 'huh'. "I dunno… I just did what you told me to do…"

"You did very well, though. A lot of people can't get it right this often even when they know all the rules."

"Oh." Clint looked back over the sheet, peering over her shoulder in obvious interest. "It's… it's like counting up points in archery, though. Or like… how much money stuff costs. I didn't know that's math."

"That's math, Clint — and you're good at it. Very good at it." She grinned at him. "So … popcorn or ice cream?"

"Popcorn," Clint said, still looking rather shocked but grinning despite himself at his unexpected success. "Ice cream is only for when you win a fight."

Jean paused only for a moment at the pronouncement, but Clint looked so perfectly pleased with himself that it was hard for her to find the heart to press him on it.

So, the two of them quickly found themselves in the kitchen waiting for the popcorn to finish popping. Jean hadn't even poured the popcorn into a bowl, though, before K and Charles arrived as well — their own sort of session going on, though Charles had much less luck getting anything out of K.

Clint beamed when he saw his mom, completely ignorant of the long session that had Charles frustrated, even if Jean could hear it. Instead, the little boy skipped over to his mom with pure glee in his expression. "Guess what," he said.

"What?" K said, wrapping him up in a snuggle and then kissing the side of his head.

"Jean says I'm real good at math!"

"Well, you are a genius," K said as if it was obviously common knowledge.

"I am not; I'm just good at math," Clint said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at her before he looked over at Jean. "She's funny."

But K wasn't going to let him get away without building him up, and she simply grinned as she started to list: "And you're good at archery, and you know sign, and you're hilarious …"

"Okay, yeah that's true, I am definitely hilarious," Clint giggled.

"And you can swear in Swedish …" K added quietly — just for Clint.

Clint started to laugh even harder at that. "So, are you done with Mr. Professor X?" he asked.

"I keep telling him that I am, but he isn't listening," K replied. "Mr. Professor Charlie isn't very quick on the uptake."

Clint turned toward Charles and gave him a brilliant smile. "It's okay," he said. "I'm not real smart at some things either, like reading."

Charles gave him a tight smile, but he wasn't about to argue with the clearly enthusiastic little boy — especially when Jean was so clearly entranced with him. "I was just asking your mother how she came to be in danger from that particular group."

"Oh, you mean the bad guys," Clint said.

"And I keep telling you they want me for my body," K said in an exasperated tone.

Clint wrinkled his nose at her. "No, they're just bad," he said.

"No, technically, that's right," K said before she booped his nose. "In the strictest sense of the words."

Clint shrugged at that. "Hey, Jean, can Mom have some popcorn too?" he asked. "I can share mine if you don't got enough."

"I don't mind at all," Jean assured him, clearly watching the interaction between the two of them — which was so very different to the stonewalling K had been doing before.

"I'm good, thanks," K said, though she bumped Clint with her shoulder. "So. Are you just … blowing their doors off? I know you are; you can just be smug and nod like you expected it the whole time."

Clint grinned at her. "Mostly, I don't really see any other kids my age — so I think they're like that soldier who didn't know how to deal with crying kids, y'know?"

"Did you cry at them to see how they handled it?" K asked as she tossed a few kernels at Clint.

Clint giggled and tried to bat the kernels away as they came. "You know… I should try that but…" He leaned forward. "But Jean can get in people's heads. Storm told me what everyone can do — and she might know I'm not crying," he added in a whisper.

She raised her eyebrows at that and whistled for Sicem before she took a moment to show Clint a trick he didn't know the dog could do. "Yeah, that could be a problem," K agreed as she got Sicem to sit perfectly still and then she balanced a kernel of popcorn on the bridge of his nose and pointed a finger at him. "But it could be funny too." She raised one hand and signed to Clint for him to tell Sicem 'good boy'.

Clint grinned. "Good boy, Sicem," he said, obviously enjoying himself.

It happened so fast — the dog whipped his head sideways and snapped at the falling kernel before it could really drop from where his nose had been, and then he scooted forward a few steps with his tail wagging, waiting for them to set him up again. "Okay, so you just … hold his muzzle with one hand," K said as she walked Clint through it, balancing the next piece on Sicem's nose and then, again, pointing a finger at him. "Be patient." She stole a glance at Clint. "On your word, kiddo."

Clint was grinning as he leaned forward to play with Sicem, letting the dog show off his trick as Jean on the other hand leaned toward Charles, her eyes dancing with laughter.

Apparently, this is normal for those two. What he would tell me about himself and his mother ... he thinks the world of her, but I'm not sure exactly where he came from before that. She leaned back as she watched the two of them. He's shy of talking about himself beyond what he doesn't realize he says.

If you ask her, the answer is 'in the arms of gossamer angels', Charles projected back dryly.

Jean smirked. Well, wherever it was... he said that she 'found' him, and he was already separated from his brother. And I'd be more concerned if I wasn't sitting here watching the two of them interacting….

We still need the whole story, Charles replied. The training she's admitted to—

Jean nodded. I don't want to pull it out of his head, though. We'd lose all of their trust in an instant.

And to try it with her would have them gone in a heartbeat. We'll have to simply keep asking.

Jean nodded. And in the meantime… She tipped her head toward where Clint had moved on to totally spoiling Sicem with belly rubs. I think they could be fun to have around.

They might, Charles agreed. Scott plans to try and get her into an evaluation.

I know, she said. He wants to see how she and Logan stack up — for several reasons, really.

Outside of his deeply hidden concern for Logan's welfare … what is he hoping to find?

Jean smirked. He's interested to see if someone can keep up with Logan, give him backup… and make him toe the line a little more, though that might be wishful thinking.

Charles couldn't help but chuckle to himself at that. And I thought he was simply hoping that she wasn't just trained to take him down.

Jean waved her hand. Oh, that too.

Even if she can do all of that, there's not much of a chance that she'd join up anyhow, Charles pointed out. Especially considering her reactions to everyone so far.

Give it time, Jean suggested. He's warming up to us — that has to count for something.

"They're talking about us," K said to Clint — not at all quietly or even pretending to hide it.

"How do you know?" Clint asked, genuinely curious.

"Watch their expressions," K replied. "Next to no poker face on either one of 'em."

Charles let out a sigh. "We were discussing the situation you've found yourselves in," he allowed.

"Talking about us," K said.

"So, what's the deal?" Clint asked. "Are you gonna kick us out, or are you gonna make us do stuff we don't wanna do, or are you gonna try an' send Mom away, or.."

"At least two of those will get people bleeding from important places," K said easily. "One of them … I'm actually okay with."

Jean shook her head and held up both hands. "We're not going to do any of those things," she promised. "We really just want to help."

"Mmm," K said with a tight smile as Sicem rested his head on her knee. "Heard that song before."

"We mean it," Jean said.

"You and your husband are just … bookends," K said. "Sounds a little Jonestown-ish to me."

Jean narrowed her eyes for only a moment before she sighed and shook her head. "I can't change your mind — or I won't," she said when K looked like she might say something to that. "But I will say if you believed us, it would be a lot simpler. We do actually practice what we preach, so if you need to see it… stick around. It's not just hot air. And yes, now that you mention it, Scott did say something to that effect this morning."

"Jonestown?" K asked. "Should I be throwing out all your Kool-aid?"

"No one's going to rise to the bait, K," Jean said with her arms crossed.

"It was an honest question," K replied, almost wide-eyed.

"It was a quip."

Clint poked his head in between the two women. "Umm… Mom, I know you can take everyone down, but can we maybe just not right now? I wanna take Sicem outside; he needs to pee."

"Alright, sweetheart," K agreed, resting a hand on the back of his neck. "I'll be nice."

Clint grinned up at her and gave her a quick hug and a whispered, "Just for a little while," before he zipped off with Sicem at his heels.