Title: Baby's Got a Brand New Toy
Author: Lisea (loonylittlewitch@...
Disclaimer: Not mine, someone else's, yadda yadda yadda...
Summary: Jean's thoughts on the man she loves.
Thanks to: Henrietta, my beta!
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
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
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
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.
"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?"
"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."
"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
"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
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
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
"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
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
"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
"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
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
"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
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.
Dedicated to Scott's new Mazda! :-)