Work, Worry and Change

October 14, 2015:

Jean and Scott discuss the important stuff. Like finding Ripclaw.

Jean's Office

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

There was a shock of stark silence within her office. Only the sounds of slurping tea and adding cubes of sugar to the cup were heard, the clinking of glass that followed soon after, the tip-tapping of Jean's fingers upon the keyboard. Her and the Professor were locked in a silent debate. One that causes her shoulders to rise and fall as she avoids his gaze to focus upon what was on the screen. Whatever he said, had her agitated enough to break the calm kindness within her features. Then a cut of the look and a narrowing of the eyes upon both their parts, and a look away with a shake of her head to continue on with the tapping.

"That's it then?" She asks the professor aloud, who offers her a warm smile in return. She slowly stands from her chair, rounding the desk to tug the door open to allow him to exit.

"Next week then, Jean?"
"Sure."

The mechanical chair wheels the man out as the door is soon closed behind him with a soft click, her back leaning against it as she glances up towards the ceiling, tears nearly within her eyes as the pads of her fingers wipe away and toss the tears upon the ground as if they were nothing. Soon, she was back at her desk again, reddened face soon calming, focusing upon the job at hand.. typing up reports and creating cells within the computer program and uploading them to the teachers server so that grades could be computed as well as the yearly requirements that need to be met.

Work. Work. Work.


"Evening Professor."

"Careful, Scott." The man smiles ever so slightly as Scott passes, though his wheels never stop spinning. "Right now, Jean is… complicated."

Scott stares after the man for a long moment, before turning to open the door and enter.

"What was that all about?" he asks, after closing the door and walking around Jean's desk, approaching. He puts a hand on her shoulder, fingers turning to beckon her away from her work and toward him.


Jean didn't hear that remark, it isn't as if she were going to go ballistic, she'd probably be upset, cry more.. but she had to focus. There was a quick glance upward as Scott enters, then back down again to her work, tip tapping upon her keys until she was turned from her screen to look up towards him, almost wanting to smack his hands for doing so. "Nothing." She mutters out, letting out a sigh to rise and give a hug, a tight one, around the shoulders. "Ever since that incident.. you know.." She kisses his cheek then pulls away. "..it's been recommended that I re-fortify my psychic defenses. Which in his words possibly means no more field work." As if she would listen.

"Speaking of, I'm actually glad you came."


"He hasn't spoken to me of this." Scott frowns somewhat. He pulls a chair over and sits down, forehead etched with lines of concern. "He's always told me, ever since he decided to focus more on the school; the X-Men are mine. If he doesn't want you to do field work, he'll have to ask me."

And if she knows him well enough, Jean would realize that Scott would hear a compelling argument.

"Anyway. What's on your mind?"


Jean settles back into her chair, leaning forward to grasp his hands as he speaks. "That's in between you and him. But you always know, and he does, that I usually would go my own way. Especially if we're in trouble or someone is in need of help." Which brings to now.

"The other night when I was sleeping.. I don't even know if you were there. Usually I could feel the lift and rise but.." She shakes her head. "Nevermind that. I.. someone had a dream. A young boy. He was in distress and somehow, it pulled me to him. Apparently, the boy was being attacked by a Baku. A dream eater." She pauses just a touch, trying to find her words.

"Either way, I offered myself and my dreams as sacrifice." She lets go of his hands, then draws the hem of her shirt upright so that he could see the bite-marks and bruises that are preparing to fade. "But there was another person there. It was.. odd. He seems like one of us but.. alone. I think we should find him."


"In my view?" Scott answers. "You're always an X-Man. I imagine the same is true for the Avengers, the Titans… you don't make a commitment like that and walk away forever."

With the conversation shifting to far more intense a conversation, Scott leaves such existential things aside and listens to Jean's tale. "I wasn't," he admits. "I was… feeling restless, so I went for a walk. I don't even know why." Which is a troubling thought in and of itself; what if this invasion had somehow prompted him to leave?

"A dream eater," he echoes, finding the concept troubling. "What do you mean, sacrificed? Did you… lose your ability to dream? Is it permanent -" The question is cut off when she reveals the injury, and a frown forms. "That's… is it like stigmata? A theoretic or telepathic injury that somehow manifests?" He doesn't express too much concern over it, considering the damage done appears to be healing well, but the idea of Jean suffering any kind of injury bothers him, because he loves her. "How would we find him? Cerebro?"


"And, if I know you well as you know me, and we're cut from the same cloth. Our views don't let us walk away so easily." But as it stands, if Charles does make a very compelling argument, Scott was the leader, and she'd do what he says.

"That's strange.." She finally offers up. In her sleep, did she cause him to do that? To get up and walk away? "Sacrificed.. I gave my dreams for him to eat. And.. I have to tell you, I wish it was. I've never slept the way I have in.. a very, very long time. Not a single nightmare. Everything.. it's just good. I don't know if it's permanent or not, the absense of nightmares but.. Scott." She gives him a look, a meaningful one. It was like a blessing in disguise even though it could potentially be dangerous.

Looking back at her stomach, she slowly nods. "You're getting more and more educated about this sort of thing, moreso than me." She admits. "Stigmata is a good word for it. Perhaps it was me who did it to myself as a form of reflection. I'm unsure." The mention of Cerebro has her giving a slight nod. "I'm unsure of his skillset, he could just be the one that would block Cerebro from finding him, but giving her a shot is paramount. If that doesn't work, I know what he looks like, and I know that he goes by the name of Robert."


"Yeah, but…" Scott hangs on that for a moment. He understands the way she feels, but the concept is still troubling. "There are good dreams, too."

His shoulders rise and fall, and he lets that argument go. The deed is done, Jean needs to move forward from it and it certainly won't help if he beats the proverbial equine corpse. "I guess it's part of being with Primal Force," he admits. "I've got no… no 'magical' talent, but I've seen things. I've felt these disturbances in the arcane world, via the ley pendulum I bear. It communicates with me, and I to it. Intuition, that's the best word I have to describe it."

"So, we'll try Cerebro, and if that fails? Well. We'll just have to do it the old fashioned way." A small grin at that.


"I still have those." Jean reassures. "I could tell you all about the one I had the other night but.." She lets it hang within the air, fixing her shirt back into place as she leans away from him to press her back against her own seat. Her leg draws upright, crossing over the other to swing idly as her fingers begin to thump along the surface. Primal force.. she worries about him and the pendant the same way he worries about her and.. everything. And it was written all over the expression that she gives him.

"That is a lie." She murmurs, a little smile drawing upon her lips. "You -are- magical. Everything about you is. Your brown, dreamy bedroom eyes. That stern brow. The way you fold your arms across your chest when you want to say something that someone already should know. The way you kiss my cheek or even swipe the hair away from my eyes." She grins. "Don't ever say that you aren't. The way you love is like magic."

True story!

"In a way, I want to say lets do it the old fashioned way. Sleuthing without the gift. Using our knowledge for once. But Cerebro is quick and she gets the job done." She leans forward to rest a hand upon his thigh. "But tell me.. is everything okay? Is.. the pendant.."


The words bring a blush to his face, and for a moment, he actually squirms. Amazing; someone actually managed to silence Scott Summers.

"It… does have its appeal, doesn't it?" One day, when things aren't at stake, they ought to hunt down some prospects the old fashioned way out of design, rather than necessity. "It's been quiet," he admits. "There are always threats, but… generally? No world-ending, apocalyptic designs in the world of the arcane. How long that will last, I'm not sure, but for the time being? I think we all appreciate the quiet."


Jean happens to grin as she notices the blush and the squirm, giving his leg a squeeze as she lets out a breath. "It does.. I mean, imagine a world where we didn't have Cerebro or the Danger Room. It'll be just like that."

As she listens, she does give a shake of her head. "I don't mean it being quiet. And I'm glad that there's no inherit destruction or the world on the brink of ending but.. I'm worried about what it's doing to -you-." She pushes his leg just a touch, playful in manner, but meaningful. Of course she wasn't going to let it go. What she felt from that was frightening, even moreso than the Phoenix herself.. or.. herself.. odd that one. It brought her chills.

"I just don't want to lose you. Or you to lose yourself."


Looking down, Scott considers the arcane artifact. He keeps it safely hidden, nearly all of the time, but it's always upon him. He was its guardian, after all. Even as Jean expresses her concern, the item speaks to him. It reminds him of the vast, cosmic power that follows Jean wherever she goes; a power that is both limitless and unpredictable. A danger, something the ley pendulum distrusts in equal measure with respect.

"I could give it up at any time," he points out. "The role of pendulum bearer is voluntary. I just…" He reaches down to touch Jean's forearms. "I know it's wrong, Jean, but a part of me likes the power it can give me. I like it because it's a tool. As much as I respect what it means to protect it, it's a tool. Something I can use to protect people. You, the X-Men, even myself. If I'm ever to lose myself… well, I have faith that the other members of Primal Force wouldn't ever let that happen."


"I know.." She murmurs quietly. And it was something she was not going to ask him to give up. As it stands, it was apart of him now, especially when it first chose him. And it was something that she accepted when he first told her of the secret. To ask him to give it up, to her, would have been like asking him to give up his life. It was one of the things that she wouldn't do. But she would make sure that he'll forever be.. healthy to continue to wear the mantle as Keeper of the Ley.

"As opposed to hate." Jean murmurs, looking down and away, her jaw settling and tense. "But Scott, I don't know them.. know who they are, what they are.." How could she put that into words? "But.. I just have to trust that you're going to take care of yourself first and foremost so that you can continue taking care of us. Does that make sense?"


"It does," Scott agrees. "Jean…" He waits until she's looking back to him, mouth set into a thin line. "Would it comfort you if I introduced you to some of them? Maybe take you on an operation? Believe me, this group is nowhere near as secretive as the X-Men." A smirk forms then. "I don't think there are any bylaws to break. Just promise me you'll wear the green and gold."

His smirk broadens. "I'd like to see their jaws drop."


Jean raises her brows at that. She.. possibly was asking to meet them, probably building up to it. Maybe she even has, she didn't know, but the idea was as good as an idea as any. But, there was Jean.. far reaching.

"Green and gold, hmm?" She lifts from her seat, only to do the usual, crawl into his lap, but this time at a straddle. "Oh, but if I -have- to wear the green and gold, I'm going to request to meet your leader." She grins. "Well, I mean you're the leader.. and the leader of you but the leader who.. shit. You know what I mean, Slim. I want to meet -the- guy or -the- woman who made all of this happen."

She talked herself into a circle just then. Trying to be all.. seductive.


Scott's rueful smirk breaks up into a right, ornery grin. He puts a hand on either side of her waist, scooting back and getting more cozy. God, if any of the students walked in!

"Hahaha!" he laughs. "Christ, Jean. It's not like meeting the President. That would be Fenris. The wolf. Agent May of SHIELD is a bearer, along with Supergirl, Zatanna Zatara the Titan, a couple of former NYPD cops who are at least working for SHIELD, either as contractors or agents, I'm not entirely sure. A few others. Really, it's a… weird group. Which, I suppose, benefits what we do. Then again, the X-Men are a motley crew, am I right?"


Jean blushes hard at the laugh, her hands even draw up to cover her face, giving a slight shake of her head. "But Slim.." She whines just a little. "It -is- like meeting the president. The leader of some really weird faction who protects the entire world type thingy should be granted such respects, right?" She reaches down to lightly jab at his sides, checking the names off of some that she knew, and some that she didn't. Has she seen a Supergirl? She's heard of her. Fenris? Not so much.

"But you're right. I'm sure once Chloe comes into age that'll make the motley crew even more bizarre." Jean has been watching the girls progress, she -is- going to make a great prospective member. "Now. Just one more thing to discuss, and then I'll be at your mercy for the rest of the day."


"Right," Scott echoes the sentiment. "With Derrick around, lashing those damn tentacles at everything, it'll be like slash horror gone wrong. God, I despise tentacles."

Scott refuses to give in to tickling. He barely even budged when she jabbed his side! Nerves of steel. However; when she poses that there is yet another topic standing between them and a day of no work and frivolity, he balks. "If it's got anything to do with papers or curriculum, at least let me go and down some Tylenol first."


"Man after my own heart." Jean murmurs, "He's.. actually the one I wanted to talk about. No paperwork, nothing about the school.. per say." She winces just a touch. "I mean, I know it's just a given and we really, really haven't spoken about it before. I was actually thinking I could give up my room and move completely into yours. All of my clothes.. make up.. blah blah.." She waves her hand just a touch. "And in turn, give Derrick my room. I think he's earned it, and you're giving him a lot of responsibilities." Beat. "And since I am doing your laundry -full- time. Let's make it facebook official. Be Twitter bitches. That.. sort of thing."

And then she blushes, cause she said bitch. A hand lifts to press against her lips. "My mouth has gotten foul.." She mumbles.


There is a long pause during which Scott is both surprised by, and begins to consider, such a proposal. It would signify the next stage of their relationship, and frankly, he's not afraid of that at all. In fact, he welcomes it. For a few moments, he manages to exact a pretty good poker face, just staring at Jean as if she just proposed they trounce around Salem Center butt naked in October.

Then? He grins.

"Do I really soil that much clothing?"


That long silence had her worried for a moment. He was as good as a pool shark as he was at playing chess and poker, and without reading his mind, she was fooled. The grin had her shoulders slumping, his question causing her to lift a hand to smack at his shoulder, even give a little push that makes the chair roll just a touch.

"Only your uniforms, sweetie."


Return Fire, bullseye! "Ouch. Okay, so, I work too much. I get it." He plants a boot on the floor to cease the chair's rolling, before lifting his hands to bury fingers into those gorgeous locks of hers. "I'd love if you moved in."

He leans forward to kiss her.

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