Title: Baby's Got a Brand New Toy
Author: Lisea
Disclaimer: Not mine, someone
else's, yadda yadda yadda...
Rating: PG
Pairing:
S/J
Summary: Jean's thoughts on the man she loves.
***
Usually, my Saturdays start at around
8 in the morning. I go to the lab downstairs, with my sandwich and
cup of coffee in my hands, to work on whatever I haven't had time to
finish that week, and stay there well into the afternoons. My
Mondays start at 6 am, and then I have to drag myself out of bed to
take a quick shower before I get ready for class. And my
Sundays?
They're my personal heaven.
God help the poor
soul who will try to get me out of bed before noon on Sundays.
The room I share with Scott is on the north side, so it's
one of the coolest at noon. After long, cold nights it just perfect
to tug the blankets under your chin and curl yourself up, relish the
warm bed, Scott's familiar scent around me, and the coolness in the
room. Plus I get the whole bed all to myself.
Scott goes
jogging around the lake every morning. And I do mean every morning.
The man gets up at five, does a few rounds, comes back around half
past six, takes a shower, changes and goes off to find himself some
breakfast.
He knows how much I love to sleep, so he makes
sure to be quiet, never wakes me up when he disappears in the
morning, or comes back to shower, maybe slip back in the bed with
me. And if he does wake me up, I can always expect the breakfast
served in bed later.
This Sunday, I'm curled up under the
warm blankets. Scott's and mine both, I'm greedy. I drift back into
conciousness from delicious, black, dreamless sleep, and slowly
become aware of the shower falcet being turned off. A soft voice of
fabric, probably a towel, then quiet, barefooted steps. When the
door opens I close my eyes quickly, pretending to be
asleep.
I feel him stepping up to the bed, leaning over to
check whether or not I'm still asleep. I hear him let out a
disappointed sigh, and he turns and walks over to a drawer. I crack
an eye open and watch him pull the towel from his waist, throws it
absently on the back of a chair. There's our full-size mirror in
front of him, so I get an excellent view of his gorgeous body.
He freezes for a half a second, then turns to face me. I
close my eyes again, hope I can fool him. He pulls on the black
boxers he's taken out of the drawer, then comes to sit on the edge
of the bed. "Jean? You awake?"
I hold perfectly still, and
suddenly realize how hot it is under two blankets. I feel him
leaning in, holds his face about ten inches away from mine, and I
can just barely feel his breath against my face. He's watching me
intently, waiting for any signs that will give me away.
Clever little demon.
I feel my lips curl up. Actress,
I'm not.
He leans in even closer, now only a few inches from
my face, and I burst into laughter. When I open my eyes, he's
smiling at me, obviously proud of himself. "Busted."
He
finally leans in and kisses me, ever so sweet and gentle. When he
pulls up, he gives me a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Are you getting
up soon?"
I pull the blankets over my head. "No."
I
don't think for a minute he'd leave it at that. "Get up, Jeannie."
He pokes his finger at my side.
"No!"
"Fine" He gets
off the bed, sits again by my feet, yanks the blanket off my feet,
and before I can pull them in again, he grabs my ankle and tugs it
under his arm. I pull the blankets off over my head, look at him.
"Oh, no, don't you dare!"
He gives me a coy smile, and runs
his finger lightly along the side of my foot. I squirm. He smiles
even more at my reaction and moves his fingers at the arch of my
foot. "So?"
I smack him over the head with a
pillow.
He retaliates by tickling my foot mercilessly. I try
to get my foot free, but he's got a firm grip on it, I don't even
have a chance.
After a minute, he stops and turns his face
to me, still keeping his fingers at the arch of my foot. "Well, Ms.
Grey?"
"You're Evil."
"Do you want me to start again?"
he lifts my foot just a little, as if getting ready for round two.
"No" I whimper. I laughed so hard my eyes have teared up. He
leans over and kisses away the spilt tears rolling on my cheeks.
"Good. Now, get up and dressed. We're going somewhere."
I sit
up against the wooden headboard, stretch my arms up over my head.
"Going where?"
He smiles at me, walks over to the closet,
takes out my favorite dress, short and light, white with little blue
flowers, and hands it to me. "Somewhere. There's something I need to
show you."
Curious, I get myself up and pull the dress over
my head, let it slide over me. "You're not gonna tell
me."
"Nope."
"Hmph" I go past him, into the bathroom,
brush my teeth and put on my makeup, tie my hair on a loose braid.
By the time I get out, he's dressed in a black, tight t-shirt and
black pants, leaning against the bedpost, juggling his keys. He's
got his car keys, the mansion keys and the keys to the front gate
and garages. He keeps all three keyrings separate, but never looses
them. I, on the other hand, would loose my head if it wasn't
attached to my shoulders.
"Ready?" his voice shakes me away
from my thoughts and the hypnotic movement of the keys and his
hands. I nod, and he opens the door for me.
***
"So
you're still not telling me where we're going?" I ask him, watch him
turn his face towards me, gives me a smile.
"We're almost
there. Three minutes."
"That's what my mom always used to
say. It was always another three hours" I roll the window down some
more, trying to catch whatever cool breeze wants to come my away.
"Hot?" he asks me, adjusting the air contioner in the car.
"Very. But I'm fine" I smile at him, before turning my
attention to the road. Mirages keep appearing on the road, and the
oily stuff they use to patch up the roads are sticking to the tires
of the car in front of us. It's midday, and it's 90 F. I need to
have a long talk with Ro when she gets back.
Scott hands me
a bottle of water. "Drink. You look like you need
it."
"Thanks" I didn't know I had, but he was right. I drink
half of it, then press the cool bottle against my forehead. "God,
that's so sweet."
I hand him the bottle after a moment, he
drinks the last half of the water inside it, tosses the empty bottle
on the backseat. He turns the car into a parking lot. I see new,
shiny cars in neat rows all over the 'better side' of the parking
lot. I look at Scott.
"You're bying a new car?!"
He
has a few. Three, in fact. Well, not really his, but the
Professor's. So technically his.
"I've already bought it.
Just need to drive it home."
"So that's what I'm here for? To
drive this back?" I say, vaguely moving my hand to point the car. He
turns his head, smiles at me.
"No. I'm taking you for a
drive, little girl" he says with a wicked, melt-my-insides grin, and
gets out of the car. It takes me a while for his words to sink in,
or more accurately, the double meaning of them.
When I
finally get out, I see Scott talking to Bobby at the entrance to the
store. Bobby's standing on the pavement, barefooted, with a pair of
roller skates in his hand. Scott gives him the car keys, and Bobby
moves towards our car, and me, as I'm leaning on the roof of the car
with my arms.
"Hi, Ms. Grey" he greets me
cheerfully.
"Hi, Bobby" I smile at him.
"What's this,
third?" he asks me, throws his roller skates on the back seat, with
the empty water bottle. He grabs the bottle as I answer
him.
"Fourth. This was the third" I pat on the roof of our
black car.
He hands me the bottle. "Here, you might need
this."
I take it from his hands, surprised to see solid ice
inside, even a little frost on the outside.
"You might need
to wait till it melts, but at least it'll be cold" he says, sits
behind the wheel.
"Thank you, Bobby, you're an angel" I say,
and sigh blissfully as I press the bottle against the back of my
neck. Bobby starts the engine and pulls away from the parking lot,
turns towards the town. I walk over to Scott, and the salesperson
next to him. The man gives Scott some papers and the car keys, then
heads back inside to another customer.
I follow Scott into
the backyard, where he finds his new toy, and I swear, if it was
anyone other than Scott, I'd expect him to do a Snoopy-dance.
"Well, what do you think?" He opens the passenger door for
me. I look at the red hood of the car through the windshield as I
sit down.
"I never thought you'd go for red, Scott" I glance
at him, and re-think what I've just said. He leans in and kisses my
cheek.
"Oh, I'm very, very into red" he whispers in my ear
and runs his hand along my inner thigh. I blush, and he stands up
from where he's knelt on the ground beside my seat and shuts my
door.
Scott opens the back door and I look over my shoulder
as he tosses our water bottle on the back seat. The door opens
backwards. Backwards, for Pete's sake. Weird. But if there's
something I've learned about Scott, is that he never goes for
anything too normal, too ordinary. God knows what he's planning on
doing to the engine.
He goes over to the driver's side, opens
the door and slide into his new leather seat. Before he shuts his
door, I catch him running his hand over the steering wheel in awe.
So, I've got competition.
As if his second bike, his previous
three cars or the others in the carage, or the Blackbird isn't
enough.
I chuckle softly at his actions, he glances over to
me and gives me a quizzing look. "What? She's beautiful."
As
I said.
***
I lean my elbow on the door, on the fully
opened window, and watch him drive. The way his feet push down on
the pedals, or his hand on the gear stick, or the other on the
steering wheel. His fingers move a little, as if saving the feel of
the car into his memory. I'd be tempted to say he never touches me
like that.
Except he does.
He's taking me to a
ice-cream kiosk by a bridge over a lake. He knows I love that place.
Or rather, what they serve. He pulls up to the small parking lot,
gets out and over to open the door for me like the gentleman he is,
and tells me to wait here as he goes to the little kiosk. I look
down to the lake a few hundred feet below me, and a little white
boat sailing on it.
"Here" he says a while later from behind
me, offering me my favorite treat (next to Scott himself).
Three balls of ice-cream, in chocolate, strawberry, and
vanilla, in a honest-to-god waffle bed, and butterscotch sauce
that's near illegal.
I make little whimpering noices as I
put the first spoonful in my mouth and walk over to a bench
overseeing the lake. I hear Scott chuckling behind me as he joins me
on the bench, lets me lean my back against his chest. I lean against
him, and put my feet up on the railing over the cliff, enjoy my
ice-cream as slowly as possible, while he enjoys his own chocolate
ice-cream cone behind me. The cool breeze from the lake makes the
heatwave blissfully bareable.
When I've finished off my
treat, he takes me down, under the bridge, along a narrow path not
many people know of. When we found it, almost a year ago, Scott had
to blast a few saplings out of our way.
He sits on a rock on
the shore, while I sit to face him on a support beam's concrete
platform, which is only a foot away from the shore. I take my shoes
off and wet my feet in the little river of water between us. He's
too much of a chicken to do the same.
"I heard Logan came
back today" he says quietly. I can feel him tense up as he waits my
answer.
"He did. I was at the front yard when he showed
up."
"How do you feel about him?"
I don't like this
conversation one bit.
"Something you want to ask me,
Scott?"
"I shouldn't have to, but..." he's looking at my
feet, avoiding to look me in the eyes.
"You're going to
anyway?"
"Do I have something to worry about?" he asks me
after a long moment of silence, looks me in the eyes, expecting to
get an honest answer. I reach out my hand and cup his
cheek.
"No, Scott. You don't have anything to worry about.
I'm not interested in him."
Well, that's not exactly true. I
am interested. And Scott knows that too, so I'll have to take that
back and refrase it before he gets too upset.
"Alright, he
is interesting, but not in the way you think. I wouldn't give up
what you and I have just to roll in the hay with him for one night,
or a few. I'd loose you, and that's a price I'm not willing to
pay."
He gives me a faint smile, he knows I meant what I
said. He takes my hand, holds it over his heart. "Is it something in
me? Why you're interested in him? Am I lacking
something?"
Sometimes, Scott Summers, you deserve a slap in
your face.
Instead, I put my hands on his cheeks, run my
thumbs over his cheekbones.
"No, Summers, you're not lacking
anything" I say, stare intently into his eyes, even though I can't
see them through the shades. I'll never be able to see them. "You've
got something he lacks. Stability. Security. Safety. I couldn't
sleep next to a man if I'd have to worry I might find his claws
through my chest one morning. I've never been scared of you, Scott,
or of sleeping next to you. I trust you. Always have."
He
looks down at my feet again. "I just thought you'd find me boring.
Compared to him" he leans in and kisses me. "But I trust you, too. I
won't ask you this again."
"Good. Now, how about giving me
the ride you promised?" I wink at him and kiss him
again.
Every time he buys himself a new car, he drives it a
little too fast. Tests the engine, he says.
And I go along
to help him test the backseat.
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