Summary:Jean and Scott finally get around to saying things out loud. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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It doesn't actually have a name. Not really. Jean's place of work has DINER on the side in red letters, the usual rows of booths against the windows and a bank of seats at the counter that look toward a window into the kitchen. It's one of those classic places that has probably changed hands three times in seventy-five years, but is always slinging the sandwiches, eggs, and reasonably priced meals that never go out of style.
Jean's been working here since she came to the city to go to school four years ago. Unsurprisingly, telepathy and telekinesis make for a very good waitress. She makes good tips, she's well-liked by the regulars and the tourists alike, and the owner is flexible about hours as long as she gets coverage, which is rarely difficult.
Today, as the breakfast rush runs down, she's got the spot behind the counter, wearing the teal and white shirt-dress with the white apron that passes for a uniform here, a nametag on her chest as she moves along the counter refilling coffees. "Splenda, Sam," she says to one with a wry smile, changing out the sugar shaker for a container of artificial sugars. "I don't need Martha chewing my ear off when she comes in after church on Sunday."
Once Scott returned from his latest trip, it took him a few days to get situated again. So imagine his surprise when he went to find Jean in the usual places just to find out that she was gone. And had taken a job in the city. It only took a little bit of research on the computers to find out where she was working, but the biggest obstacle was himself. She wanted space. Was it just from the school, or from him as well?
That bit of curiosity is what drove him to show up at the DINER. He looks at the train car looking diner, and he smiles slightly to himself as he moves to enter - as he does so, the small bell jingles the arrival. Though he didn't mean to, he looked like he could have just stepped out of the history book himself, with the black t-shirt underneath his leather bike jacket, a pair of blue jeans, and riding boots. He adjusts the red-lensed glasses as he looks around, and when he's told to seat himself, he asks the waitress where Jean's station is.
The waitress looks over Scott for a moment, lifting a curious brow, before gesturing to where her tables are. Though if he has any thoughts of surprising her, it's probably lost considering that they share a connection. But whether or not she has it open at the moment, that's a different story. And he waits for Jean to approach, and when she does, he smiles. Though it's tinged with nervousness. "So I read on Yelp that the Strawberry Shakes are fresh and homemade deliciousness."
Jean looks up at the sound of the bell, ready to call a greeting to the latest arrival. Seeing that it's Scott, she can't help a small smile. She's more been giving space than taking it, not wanting to push anything. After all, for all his field prowess, pushing Scott Summers is like pushing an elephant. Even if you succeed, you may not like how things end up.
"Hey there, Slim," she greets with a wink as he comes closer, tapping a hand in front of one of the seats at the counter. "The strawberry shakes are indeed excellent here. So are the pies, and the eggs, and the sandwiches. Angelo in the back is a wizard on that flattop. So what's your fancy?"
"What's the house special?" Scott asks, relief coming to his features when Jean welcomes him instead of pushing him away. He slips into the seat at the counter. "Just got back from Upstate. There was someone there that needed to come to the school." he explains, and he leaves it at that, at least in public, as he grins.
"But I know I want to try one of the shakes, but we'll discuss pies after dinner, hmm?" comes the playful question. "Are you on break soon.. or.." Possibly off? He doesn't ask, but he does want to catch up with her. She's been missed.
"Yeah, I'm almost done with my shift," Jean nods, writing up an order for a shake and slipping it across the counter as she reaches for one of the laminated menus to slide his way. "I personally think the corned beef hash is one of the best things in the place," she suggests, tapping it out on the menu. "But you can't go wrong with the burgers either. As long as you don't try anything too fancy, you're probably safe."
She tops off another patron's coffee with a smile before the man can even lift his head, then fills a glass of water for Scott. "It's good to see you again," she admits with a small smile. "I was starting to think…Well." Nothing she wants to say out loud, at least.
"I'll have the patty melt with a side of the hash, then." Scott decides, as he offers the menu to Jean. When she takes it, his fingers brush hers in recognition. Did he pick up what she was saying? Or you know, just comforting a friend. He's not terribly sure himself. He watches her as she leaves and comes back with the water, and Scott accepts it gratefully.
"Think what?" he asks her when she returns, and sips at the water before setting it down. "I didn't think I was gone that long?" No sense of time or timing. It probably would have worked better if she had said they were on a mission. Then he'd have it down to the second.
Jean puts the order in with the back, then comes back to her side of the counter, smile faint. "Nothing," she starts to say, then rolls her eyes, stopping herself. "Sorry. That's not-" She pauses to deliver someone else's good, giving herself a minute to choose her words, before she comes back.
"I kind of feel like ever since I told you how I felt, everything's been…weird. And I didn't want to ruin what we've always had, because I can live with just being your friend, but I don't think I could live…without that." Her cheeks flush a bit as she looks across the counter, trying to see if anyone else is listening in.
"I probably could have waited to say that," she murmurs, sheepish.
There's a pause as Scott listens to Jean. He was kind of hoping to wait until after she was off work so that they could talk about that paticular elephant in the room. The talk of armor and knights and fairy tales. It left Scott wondering exactly what it was that he had gotten himself into. But in the midsts of all of his self-doubts, and in the roomful of his own inner demons, she's there.
Like she's always been.
"I took you for granted, Jean. Since the day we met, we'd always been together. As friends, and teammates.. and out of anyone else, I knew I could rely on you the most." he admits with a frown, though she can tell, it's not her - it's himself. His own doubts.
What isn't in doubt though is when he reaches and covers Jean's hand with his own. "We can talk about this maybe when you're off? I don't want to cause a scene…" because right now, his thoughts are jumbled, but they are on her. And what he may want to do next is conflicting with what he should do. And he takes a long drink from his water, because it's suddenly much warmer in here, him starting to release her hand.
"No, sure, of course," Jean shakes her head quickly, looking down at the counter with a flicker of an uncomfortable smile. "Sorry. Yeah. No. Like I said, probably could have waited."
Awkward as the words are, the squeeze she gives his hand is familiar, grateful for even that small gesture of closeness. True to the diner's form, his food and shake are up in no time at all. She lets her hand slide out of his as she moves to the window, dropping off his food before she makes another round of the other diners. The place is starting to empty out now, as the breakfast rush fades out.
"Having a good summer so far, though?" she asks when she comes back, doing a little better at acting normal. "Or does the Professor have you teaching summer school classes too?"
"Even if he didn't, you know me, Jean." Scott shrugs his shoulders with a chuckles. "Teacher's pet and all that, of course I'm doing summer courses. Mainly remedial math, and helping those that didn't get a chance to go to school when they were younger." He glances up to meet her eyes as he takes a bite from the burger, and gives a soft mm of appreciation. Jean can imagine his eyes closing in delight behind the glasses. She makes a good suggestion.
Then again, she's always had his best interest in mind.
"How about you? Just doing this for the summer?" he asks her curiously. "And are you.. I mean. None of my business. Seeing anyone?" None of his business, but he asks anyway.
"Yeah, you know. I figured graduation is past, but the school doesn't really need me through the summer, so…I might as well keep going here, save up a little more. I'm not…sure what for?" Jean's smile quirks again, a little more genuine this time. "I know it's not like I need to worry about it, but…I guess it makes me feel a little more independent."
At the question of if she's seeing anyone, she shakes her head, closing out the last couple of tabs. "No, you know how it goes. Casual dating is always weird with…" She trails off, tapping a finger at her temple. "Not to mention everything else in my life."
She pauses, catching her lower lip between her teeth and quirking a brow. "How about you and Zee?"
"Hey, never know when you may that impulse purchase. New car. The latest fashion." Not that Jean has ever wanted for any of that. He's just teasing her a little as he returns her smile. "Yeah, independence." He says it like he knows how she feels, when he really doesn't. He's always had to have that structure in his life, but when the subject switches to his relationship with Zatanna, he gives a little sigh.
"She's off on her summer and world tour and all that. I don't know. Maybe it's just a little much for me, Jean." he admits to her quietly. "She's a wonderful woman, but she's got these huge dreams and asperations, and me.. I'm well.."
There's a shrug and a wave of his shoulders. "…you know what I mean." Because of course she does.
"I know what you mean," Jean shakes her head with a rueful smile, rolling her eyes just a little bit. "I also know you're full of it, but I know what you mean." With the other tabs closed, Jean's shift is over. "I'm heading out, Angelo," she calls back into the kitchen, starting to untie her apron. "You have a good rest of the day, okay? Don't let Sue push you around."
The nametag comes off as well, and she steps around the counter. "You finish up, I'm going to get changed," she tells Scott, disappearing into the back.
While Jean's gone, Scott works on his meal, finishing it off quickly. After polishing it off, he keeps the shake, but asks for a to-go cup to pack it in. After getting the paper cup to put it in with a straw, he leaves a five dollar tip for the waitress cleaning up after Jean, but when he's cashing out the bill, he hands Angelo an extra twenty. "For Jean." he says quietly.
She doesn't need to know. It could just be she gave wonderful service. It totally isn't Scott trying in his own way to help her. Because of course not.
Angelo takes the money but chuckles, shaking his head. "Ain't gonna get you her number, kid," the old man says as he slips it into an envelope to one side. "Jeannie's just not that kind of girl. But good luck." He winks, then he's back to work on the griddle.
It's not long before Jean's back out, back in her usual jeans and t-shirt with a purse slung over her shoulder. "You all finished?" she asks Scott, checking his place to make sure he got to eat all of his food before she waves to Angelo. "See you next shift," she calls, then tips her head toward the door with an easy smile. "Shall we?"
He doesn't need Jean's number, she's leaving with him. There's a grim smile towards Angelo, before he offers his arm to Jean and Scott's smile turns more genuine with her own offer. "Sure. Did you drive?" he asks her curiously. "If you didn't, I won't mind giving you a ride back home." His motorcycle's nearby, and he's more than happy to give her a lift to wherever she's staying.
"I walked like a real New Yorker," Jean teases, laughing softly. "But sure, a ride sounds good. It's not too far away." She knows the bike well - it's not the first time she's taken a ride on it. So when she sees it down the street, she starts in that direction. "Bike looks good," she smiles faintly, making small talk.
"Thanks. Probably should give it a tune up when I get it back to the school." Scott responds as he moves to settle in place, hiking his leg over to get in place and waiting for Jean to join him. He gives her a curious glance, but doesn't out and out ask her what's on her mind, but from the expression on his face, it's obvious.
Kickstarting the motorcycle, it roars to life, a little loud for voice communication, but it should not be that big of a deal between the pair of them.
Jean retrieves the spare helmet from its safe spot, buckling it into place before climbing onto the bike behind him. It's a comfortable motion, one born of habit, but there's still something about it that's…careful. Like her arms around his waist, but only clasping her own hands. « Six blocks south, four blocks west, » she tells him along that familiar link once she's settled.
The familiar touch in his mind along with her physical touch gives Scott pause. There's a moment of uncertainety that Jean would feel, but it's shaken off quickly. Pushing off the curb to enter into traffic, he revs the engine to start to move among the traffic. « Little bit of a walk, Jean. » he decides to open, now that they are connected, and it gives them a chance to talk among thsemselves.
« So, besides leaving the school, getting a job, and not sure if you're going to come back.. what else have you been up to? » he decides to just up and ask. There's no heat in his tone or emotions. He's more.. concerned.
« Have to stay in shape somehow. Why do you think I bring a change of shoes? » Jean leans a little closer once he starts moving, keeping herself balanced. The solid feel of him against her chest, the smell of his soap and shampoo. These are home, and safety.
« You'll be happy to hear that the whole business with the gods has been handled, » she informs him. « Safely. Turns out some old enemies of the Celtic gods were trying to frame Hod to bring about some kind of Ragnarok. But we took care of them. »
Especially if one doesn't notice the slight uptick in his heartrate when he feels Jean press closer to him. « We have a gym at the school. » Subtle, Scott. Real subtle. Though when she mentions that the gods business is handled, she can feel that relief as it washes off of him.
« So no more marks and stuff like that? » comes the question in response to her as he they come up to a red light and slow down. « How are .. » she can feel the pause, but he soldiers on. « Rachel and Nate? »
« Hey, Zee took care of the mark. But yeah. No more marks and stuff. » Jean smiles faintly against his back, arms tightening slightly when a car swerves around them. Scott can likely even feel the telekinetic field she throws up just in case, out of reflex.
She seems surprised when he asks about Rachel and Nate, but offers a cautious answer all the same. « Rachel's seemed good when I've seen her. Nate…I haven't seen as much, but I talked to him the other night. Seems like he's fallen in with the Young Avengers. He and Kate are…dating? Honestly, it's really weird to think about at all. »
Meaning despite the fact that she's encouraged him to give the idea of their existence a chance, she's not exactly thrilled with it either.
« Huh. » comes Scott's response as Jean shares the updates of the two kids. « We should probably talk about that sometime. » he finally decides to mention. As he makes the turn, completing the first part of the trip, now comes the drive down.
« It is weird. You handled better than I did. » comes the admission. That is probably a pretty good approximation of an apology for Scott Summers and he steers past a taxi pulling out into traffic. « I think it's mainly the implication of it all. It's weird to know that you, we.. you know.. »
Jean snorts softly. « That's the weird part? The idea of you and I having sex and having kids is the weird part of them showing up from alternate universes and futures and stuff? » Amusement ripples across the words, almost as if he can see her shaking her head.
« I mean, Nate's not even from that, from what he says. He's just a test tube kid. Or something. That whole thing is the weird part. Also, trying to…interact with them, knowing it. Like I feel like I'm supposed to be Mom, but…» She wrinkles her nose. « I'm definitely not qualified for that. »
« Okay, so maybe it was the idea of sex with my best friend, so soon after… » Scott recalls the conversation that they had before he left - and perhaps Jean would feel for a moment that his thought is.. « wouldn't be so bad. » But he's letting that go for now. « I mean, we've watched enough Doctor Who, right? Though I never imagined myself as the Doctor. » There's a smirk at that as he listens.
Then his tone is apologetic as Scott considers. « I shouldn't have left you to do that alone, Jean. I mean, you accepted it a lot faster than I did, but that doesn't mean I should have left you out in the wind like that. »
« I think you and I both know it wasn't the idea of you and me that chased you off, Scott. » Jean tightens her arms around him in a brief squeeze, though before she can expand on that thought, they're coming up to the building. « Just over here, » she directs, pointing out a little brownstone. The neighborhood's nothing special, just one of those places that's been around for a long time. Not too fancy, not too sketchy.
Pulling up in front of the building, Scott is looking it over. And she can feel him judging it in his head. She could do better. But the squeeze gets his attention and as he stops the bike, he lifts his hand from the handle beofre covering her own and after several moments, he lets it go.
Once the bike is quiet, Jean steps off, taking off the helmet to put it back in place before taking a few steps towards the door to the basement apartment. "You want to come in?" she offers with a small smile. "I've got coffee. Snacks. We can…talk?" She got the keys in her hand as she backs toward the door, smile crooked.
Taking off his own helmet, Scott swallows as he considers Jean, and then smiles back at her. "I'd like that." he agrees with her as he moves to take the keys from the bike and slip off his own helmet to follow after Jean as they head to the door of her place.
Jean unlocks the door then steps inside, hitting a light switch on the way in. The apartment itself…doesn't really seem to be her style. For one, it's cool inside. Not just like there's good AC. It comes from being a basement apartment - it's at a steady 65 degrees or so, summer or winter. The style is modern, the furniture and decor all clean lines and hard edges.
Not to mention the kitchen appears to be stocked with everything a real chef needs, and Scott of all people knows that Jean is…well. Not a real chef.
And yet, it looks like Jean's at least put her touch on things. It's easy to tell where it is, too. Pillows on the couches, and throws. Some homey art on the walls. Curtains. But it doesn't seem entirely permanent.
"Just kind of borrowing the place while I work things out," she explains with a small smile as she hangs up her keys and her purse by the door, kicking off her shoes.
Looking around the apartment as he enters, Scott's mind is already taken an analysis of it all. He notices the homey touches, and the fact that she's not gone putting pictures and things all over the place. Maybe it's not permament, he realizes, as his ruby gaze watches Jean, then returns his attention to the place. "A lot more room than your dorm room." He's trying to look on the bright side of things on this.
Then he notices the pantry and food, and a few other things, and she may feel his mind whirl for a moment. It's the first time that Scott may realize that Jean's got a roommate, someone living with her, or…
And it's the last of those thoughts that goes quickly stuffed down, along with a pang of regret, or even something else as Scott remains standing and turns his attention to the frills on a pillow. Easier not to think about it, right? "So is the rent horrible?"
Jean knows him too well for that last moment of spiraling to go unnoticed, a wry smile tigging at one corner of her lips. "It's one of Hod's places, Scott," she explains, taking a sweater off the back of a chair and shrugging into it, letting the arms fall over her hands. "He's letting me use it while I figure things out, since I sort of saved his life."
She moves toward the kitchen, pulling out a french press for coffee and starting to fill a kettle. "So I guess you could say the rent's already been paid."
When Jean makes the clarification, Scott's eyes widen behind the glasses. "Oh! Ohhhh." he realizes, that sheepish feeling creeping over him as he sets down the pillow as he comes into the kitchen. "Saving the life of gods, serving hash at a diner. Anything you can't do, Jean Grey?" he asks her playfully as he leans against the counter near her as she works on preparing the coffee.
Then he sombers a little, as he folds his hands in front of him. "I'm not going to tell you to come back to the school. I can't blame you for the break, at all." he finally decides to say. "Is it just the teaching thing that's the thing?" He wants to talk about it, but not sure where to even to approach the subject. Or if this is /really/ what he wants to talk about.
"You don't have to tell me, Scott," Jean smiles ruefully. "You've made it clear for a long time, whether you meant to or not." Despite the words, there's no bitterness behind them. Just the usual patience.
As the water starts to heat, she leans against the counter across from him, hands braced next to herself. "I don't want to be a teacher, Scott," she says simply. "And as much as the school is home, I feel like I've spent my whole life hiding there. And I'm tired of hiding."
There's the heart of it, the deeper truth. "The school has to stay hidden. To be a safe place for the people who can't defend themselves. I absolutely get that. But I'm not one of them anymore. I don't need to be protected. I shouldn't have to hide."
Scott nods his head as Jean speaks her peace. He reaches up to run his fingers through the back of his head, and while her own words mean no bitterness, he feels his own. Why is it always.. so difficult with her. Why can't he just open up to her? She may feel that thought for the first time. That regret. "I took you for granted, Jean." he finally says, looking from her and to the counter.
"We've been together since we were both old enough to know about the other. And you were my security blanket. Because no matter what my worries were, my thoughts and second guessing when I was younger, you were always there to encourage me to express myself and push forward."
"You never needed to hide. You couldn't hide if you wanted to. You're a shining beacon of everything we do." he chuckles a bit at that. "I may be the star pupil and dream, but you were always the guiding light in the storm." he shrugs his shoulders at that. "You don't need to be protected. You're absolutely right. You shouldn't have to hide. None of us do. But I never wanted to hide from /you/."
"You've done a pretty good job of it for someone who didn't want to." Jean crosses her arms over her chest, hands fisting against the urge to move forward, to touch him. "It's not that I don't want the school, Scott. Or the people there. Or everything that comes with it. I'm just afraid of letting it become my everything. I'm afraid of looking back on it in ten years and regretting the choice I made. I'm afraid of ruining it with that. Does that- Does that make sense? I'm not saying the school isn't enough, I know you feel like I am. I'm afraid of making it everything and then…losing it."
"The Professor wanted me to be a leader, Jean." Scott responds as he looks down. His own hands ball up against his shirt, and he fights his own urge to approach her as well. When did the five feet between them suddenly feel like an impassible gulf? He lifts his covered eyes back to her again, and his lips pull into a thin line as he finally speaks.
"I didn't want to play favorites. The five of us, the original class. We were thick as theives - and while everyone else has moved on, Hank with his studies. Bobby with school. Warren with his work.. and now you." he realizes he's the only one left. And he feels that pang of remorse that he's given everything to the school and dream - but he wouldn't take it back.
"How would the others have reacted if they'd known that I was in love with you, Jean?" he asks her finally.
As if they didn't alreayd know.
"Probably shocked you could think about something other than a responsibility." Jean's tone is teasing, but it doesn't quite cover the the deeper emotions beneath it. Her voice shakes as she tries to hold back, tightening her arms around herself.
"Scott, I…" Her fingers tangle in the sweater, the roil of emotions all too tangible through the familiar link they share. Hope. Fear. Empathy. Elation. Cautiousness. "I need- I need you not to run away, okay?"
The roll of emotions is something Scott's ill-prepared for. He probably wasn't even prepared to have /this/ conversation. But here they are, and Scott realizes that going backwards is like trying to drive over one of those one way parking lot strips - it's going to tear you apart if you try.
"I haven't yet." he finally says. Even if he just got back from presumably running away from things as he holds her gaze with his own, even with the smell of coffee perculating/
Jean uncrosses her arms, stepping forward to close the distance between them and take his hands. "Scott Summers, I love you," she says quietly, not breaking eye contact. "I have loved you since the day you showed up at the school. You are the only person I have ever felt that way about."
Her hands tighten on his as she catches her lower lip between her teeth. "I will wait for you forever if you tell me there's a chance you might feel the same way. If you don't, though, if there's not, I…I just need to know."
Her hands feel his, and his open reflexively to his. Accepting her touch, the grip of her in his hands. "We can never make it easy, can we Jean Grey?" he asks her, as his eyes meet hers and she bites on her lip. For a moment, it seems that Scott's about to run away - yet again. It seems to be his best defense.
But amongst all the conflict and thoughts, that feeling for her, that anchor she's always been for him is what comes to the front. He was willing to be her best friend. Just friends.
But coming here. Realizing if just for a moment that he may have let her go too far, that he pushed her too far away, he doesn't know what to say. So he reacts.
His hands release hers, and his arms take her waist as he pulls her in close and presses his mouth to hers, fully, wholly. There's no apprehension in kissing her, instead, she may realize that he's waited /years/ to do this.
Normally Jean keeps a tight grip on the emotions she lets spill over to him. He's too important - everything is too important - to risk letting those feelings endanger any of it. But when his lips touch hers, there's a moment where all the walls fall, and fall hard.
He can feel the way the kiss shoots fire down to the pit of her stomach, the way his hands on her waist are like a live wire sending a current up and down her spine. The relief so powerful she could almost cry.
And then her hands are around his nape, pulling him down or pulling herself up to soak in the kiss like a summer storm on the desert sand. Apparently he's not the only one who's been holding back for years.
There's a slight mmf of surprise as Jean opens the flood gates between them and tears down the final walls of their defenses. His kiss becomes as needful as hers, warm, deep, and speaking of everything that he's been holding back since the first time he saw the redhead girl at the entrance of Xavier's School.
His lips break hers for just a moment. "I love you, too." he manages, before he sinks back into that kiss, drowned, pleasantly in the emotions of the moment as he presses against her with a lift of her onto the counter. Just to bring her closer.