Fic: She's Having a Baby...Maybe, PG-13, Gen/romance
- TITLE: She's Having a Baby...Maybe
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@.... Feedback is better than
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen, romance, S/J
RATINGS/WARNINGS: PG-13, a little foul language, some brief mentions
of the concept of baby-making
SUMMARY: Scott and Jean and baby make three.
DISCLAIMER: The X-Men and the X-Men movieverse belong to Marvel and
Twentieth-Century Fox and other entities with expensive lawyers. I am
making no profit from this story.
NOTES/DEDICATION: This story is partly inspired by Minisinoo's "Sleepy
Dragon" and partly inspired by my life. It is dedicated to Avi, who
not only laughed when I quoted him in this story, but also provided
some helpful ideas. Thanks to Eiluned for the beta. As she knows, this
story's real purpose is to convert Scott-haters to the dark side.
I've added a few miscellaneous comic book X-Men in order to bulk up
the school staff, but you don't have to know the comics to read this.
(Could *you* run a school with so few teachers?)
"Are you pregnant yet?" Scott asked as he closed their bedroom door.
Jean didn't even look up as she telekinetically threw a down pillow at
"What?" he asked, trying to look innocent.
"You know, Scott, that line was funny the first thousand times, but it
seems to have lost its charm," Jean said, finally looking up from _The
Joy Luck Club_.
"Sorry," Scott said, but his apology was marred by his grin. "So, are
"Maybe. I don't think so. I keep telling you, it takes a few days to a
few weeks for a test to be accurate if you want to avoid false
"I know," Scott said, "I just like hearing you talk doctor, it's sexy.
So, are you re-reading _What to Expect When You're Expecting_?"
"No, I thought one evening not thinking about trying to have a baby
would be good for me. You are *not* helping."
"I'm not here to be helpful. I'm your husband." Scott flopped down
next to her and lay his head on her abdomen. "Anyone home?"
"No." Jean looked at Scott for a few moments. "I love you. Now go
"You mean it's not..."
"No. Next week."
"But just in case, shouldn't we..."
"No. Not tonight. Go away."
Jean kept a straight face as he lay on the blue and green bedspread
and smiled at her. Finally he sighed in resignation and got up from
Jean opened her book again.
"Well, since you won't play with me, I'll find someone else." Scott
tried to bait her as he opened the door.
"That's nice, dear," she said, "I think Warren was looking bored
earlier in the evening."
Scott laughed as he closed the door behind him. She stuck her tongue
out at his back and settled back with her book. But now she couldn't
Damn him for reminding her of what she was trying to forget.
Jean tried to read, but her mind kept drifting back to pregnancy. She
knew it was ridiculous to be worried this soon. They hadn't been
trying for very long and it could easily take a year or more. Why was
Jean gave up and tossed her book onto the bed. It had seemed so easy
months ago. They had agreed they were ready, and eager, to start a
family. True, their lives weren't as settled as they might wish, but
who knew when that would change?
So, Jean stopped taking birth control pills and started charting the
optimal days to have sex in order to coincide with ovulation. All very
But they hadn't reckoned with the life of leather-clad superheroes, or
the vagaries that hit ordinary people. Put those two together...
--The Previous January--
The wood-paneled hallway was quiet, in one of those brief respites
between students. The vases were still, instead of tilting
precariously, and the art hung straight on the wall.
Only two people stood in the hall, and they were too wrapped up in
each other to be any trouble.
Scott struggled not to grin. "Tomorrow?" He checked to be certain
nobody was nearby.
"Tomorrow through Thursday," Jean said, trying to smile back. But
something was off. She started to say so, when they were interrupted
by a horde of stampeding students.
"Time for lunch," Scott said, letting himself be pulled along. He
waved at her as she stepped back into the doorway of her classroom.
Then she sneezed. And sneezed again.
Just as she feared, when she woke up the next morning, her throat was
raw, her nose was stuffed, and her head felt like the entire
Brotherhood was running through it. She groaned, half from her
illness, and half from the realization of what this meant.
"Jean, what's wrong?" Scott was only half-awake, she could feel his
concern through their telepathic bond clearly as he tried to scan
their bedroom for possible threats.
"Noding, I mean," she sniffed a few times and then blew her nose
carefully, "nothing, just a cold."
Jean closed her eyes and tried not to move too much. "Yes, a cold. One
of thousands of related viral infections that will leave me tired,
"...and not in the mood for a little baby-making."
Jean felt Scott's cool hands gently stroke her forehead, and she
sighed with pleasure. Then he climbed out of bed.
Jean stifled another groan. As the doctor, it behooved her to behave
like an adult when she got sick.
"I'll bring you up a pitcher of orange juice and some toast. Tylenol
and Sudafed good?"
"Yes, but I should..." she tried to climb out of bed, but Scott pushed
"...you should stay in bed and get over this as quickly as possible."
"But my classes?" she hated how weak her voice sounded.
"Your classes will survive a few days. I'll send Logan in to terrorize
I *know* you have emergency lesson plans. Rest. Get healthy."
Scott's voice was firm, and she sank gratefully back into the soft
As she slid back to sleep, she said, "It's not really the classes. I
wanted to make a baby."
"I know. Me too."
The lab was cool and silent except for the clicking of the keyboard as
Jean updated student medical records.
She was just entering Bobby's second-degree burn and St. John's
frostbite (the result of a particularly enthusiastic basketball game)
when she felt Scott coming down the hall. She looked up as the lab
door whooshed open.
"Hey, sexy," he said.
"Sexy? An old married lady like me?" Jean gave the ritual response.
"Well, you're sexy to me." Scott picked her hands up off the keyboard,
hit save and closed the program before she could argue. "Now, if
you'll recall, we had an appointment."
Jean stared at her husband. "An appointment?" Then she blushed. "Oh.
"Yes, I even put it down in your appointment book, if you'll recall.
It says 'Have sex with your handsome husband.' So, if we could adjourn
to a more appropriate location, we can commence baby-making."
Jean smiled and sent a flurry of love/lust/happiness up their link, as
she remembered why she married him.
Minds entwined, they were halfway down the hall when alarms began to
Scott paused long enough to bang his head against the gray metallic
wall before taking off for the Situation Room.
Scott was already checking the monitors, Jean peering over his
shoulders, when the rest of the team streamed in.
"Damn," he said. "We've got to get out there. If this escalates, we
could have full-fledged anti-mutant riots."
The Professor rolled into the room, and Scott brought him up to date,
as everyone else scanned the screens. "Cyclops, who are you taking?"
Scott thought for a moment. "Storm, Wolverine, and Beast are with me.
Angel and Jean stay here to protect the school."
As everyone scattered, Jean grabbed Scott and kissed him.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, his face set in the severe
lines of Cyclops.
"Just come back safely," she said, kissing him one more time.
Jean was looking at Ororo's flower garden, but she wasn't really
"I could cancel, Scott." She leaned back on the bench.
Scott didn't look up from the garden hose he was patching. "It's
important that you go. Important to you and important that you
represent the rational, scientific view of human mutation."
"Maybe someone else could go," she said. "Hank or the Professor." She
absently picked a sprig of mint and twirled it under her nose.
Scott put down the hose. "The Professor doesn't have your medical
background, and well, let's be blunt here. Hank is blue. And very
Whereas *you* are both beautiful *and* intelligent. A combination that
even the most hardened bigot cannot possibly resist."
"I'm sorry, this conference was scheduled long before we decided to
have a baby."
"I know," he said as he wiped his hands carefully on a rag and sat
beside her on the bench. "And somehow we will get through this."
"I wish there was some way you could come with me. If only everyone
*else* wasn't going to be gone at the same time."
"You know," Scott said, "this is beginning to feel like a conspiracy."
Jean laughed at the visions this conjured up. "It's Magneto's revenge.
Or maybe it's a new Friends of Humanity strategy. Perhaps they think
if mutants don't reproduce there won't be any more mutants."
"Our previous plans have all failed," Scott intoned, "so we will
implement Plan NB."
"What's Plan NB?" Jean asked, playing along.
"Plan No Baby will involve interfering with the routine of all
alpha-class mutants to be absolutely certain they get no quality time
with their spouses."
"It's a brilliant plan."
"And especially," he paused for dramatic effect, "especially no
Jean laughed again at the memory, but sobered as she remembered the
subsequent months. April was filled with prosaic interruptions,
students needing help with assignments, lab work, and late night teen
What happened in May? Was that when she and Hank spent a solid week
without more than a few hours sleep tending to injuries from a botched
rescue mission? No, that was June.
Ah yes, May was Congressional testimony. Yet another trip that Scott
couldn't join her on because of school duties. Final exams.
That brought her up to last month, when large portions of the mansion
were damaged in an attack and everyone had doubled up rooms for the
rest of the month.
She lay in the bed, remembering the months of frustration. Then she
had an idea. The idea morphed a bit and became a plan. Not, she
suspected, a plan Scott was going to like, but subtlety had failed. It
was time for direct action. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.
**Professor?** she thought. His mind was the only one other than
Scott's she could reach over a distance.
**Could you assemble the teachers in the library, please?**
**Certainly. Is this an emergency?** The Professor's mental voice was
calm, if a little surprised by this unusual request.
**No, but I'd like to get this over with quickly.**
Jean strode downstairs, determined to implement her plan before she
lost her nerve or Scott figured out what she was doing. She could feel
his confusion, but deliberately blocked him.
The library was perfect for Jean's plan. It was warm and cozy, the
teachers fit there comfortably, and alas, you were unlikely to find a
student there outside of school hours.
Jean heard the murmur of the other teachers as she entered the room,
but conversation ceased and all eyes turned to her. She stood next to
Scott, who loyally tried to pretend he knew what was happening.
She took a deep breath and Hank said, "I suppose you're wondering why
I've called you here tonight."
Jean stared him into silence and said, "I've called you together to
announce that Scott and I will be gone for a few days next week."
Scott's jaw dropped, and the rest of the crew stared for a few moments
in surprise. Jean jumped in before they could object.
"This is non-negotiable," she said. "Next Tuesday, we are going to go
away and no-one will disturb us until Friday morning. If Magneto
breaks out of prison, if Rogue absorbs Jubilee, if the Juggernaut runs
amok, we will not be disturbed."
"I am never one to stand between an esteemed colleague and a justly
deserved respite," Hank said, "but I am curious why you have
specifically chosen Tuesday."
"Because that's the best day for me to get pregnant this month," she
Scott sat down rather abruptly. "And after seven months of being
interrupted, I'm sick of it."
Jean enjoyed the stunned deer expressions on her colleagues' faces
even more than she expected. "Any other questions?" she asked.
"No, I believe that covers it," Hank said. He winked at her and Warren
quietly wished her good luck, then they went back to debating football
scores. The Professor smiled at her and rolled out of the room after
sending telepathic good wishes. He had known already, she was sure.
"You have been trying to have a baby all this time and you did not
tell us?" Ororo sounded a little hurt. She and Scott moved off into a
corner of the room as Scott tried to explain their reasoning.
"Seven months, huh?"
Jean gritted her teeth before turning to face the remaining staff
"Yes, Logan, seven months."
His lips twitched and he said, "Well, have you thought maybe it's
because he can't..."
"Stop." Logan stopped and so did every other conversation in the room.
Not. Go. There. Finish that sentence and I'll remove the adamantium
from your skeleton with my bare hands." She left the room, everyone
staring after her in surprise again. She could feel Scott's alarm, but
she stifled her anger and told him to stay put.
Halfway down the hallway, she could hear Logan behind her. "Jeanie?
Jean, hang on." She stopped walking, but didn't turn around. "I'm
sorry, I didn't mean...shit, I'm no good at this."
Jean sighed and turned around. "Well, it wasn't a bad beginning." She
crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, watching the
unprecedented sight of the biggest badass in the land (or at least the
surrounding counties) try to formulate an apology.
"I was just kidding around. I didn't mean to hurt you. Hell, I didn't
even mean to hurt Scott's feelings."
"If he'd heard you...look, we're under enough stress as it is without
you restarting that pointless feud with Scott."
"I'm sorry." The words hung in the air and he waited, the silence
heavy with tension.
"Just try to lay off for a bit," Jean said finally. "Please?"
"I promise," Logan said, seeming to understand that he was forgiven.
He turned to head back to the library, then paused. "Hey, Jean, you
guys'll be good parents. Really."
Jean blinked back a few tears, and went to pack.
Rachel Summers was born a little over nine months later. Red-faced, 7
pounds and 2 ounces, she was the most beautiful thing Jean had ever
seen. Scott's tears kept leaking from behind his visor, but nobody