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Fic: Romance and Sunsets (S/J, PG)

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  • loonylittlewitch
    Title: Romance and Sunsets Author: Lisea (loonylittlewitch@yahoo.com) Author s website: http://www.freewebs.com/draakkon Rating: PG Pairing: I ll give you
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 29, 2003
      Title: Romance and Sunsets
      Author: Lisea (loonylittlewitch@...)
      Author's website: http://www.freewebs.com/draakkon
      Rating: PG
      Pairing: I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count.
      Summary: a PWP story of Scott/Jean fluffiness.
      Notes: Emphasis on the PWP :) And the second half of this fic hasn't
      been betaed. My mistakes if there are any! :)



      "Mhh?" Scott, in his near-dream state of conciousness, barely
      registered the body of his lover pressing against his back.

      "You've taken all of the blanket again. I want my half back, I'm
      freezing" Jean said, and put her arms around his waist, settling
      herself against his warm body. He stirred a little, then little
      points of red light blinked through his sleeping goggles.

      "Oh, I'm sorry" he said, and pulled the blanket over Jean's body, and
      resumed his earlier position, with Jean now pressed snugly against
      his back, her arm around his waist. "You're not freezing. You're
      wearing my pajamas."

      "So? They look hotter with you in them."

      "Beg to differ."

      "And I am freezing" Jean said, and pressed her cold toes against
      Scott's leg, causing him to yelp. "See?"

      "Alright," Scott turned around to face her. "I'm sorry I took up your
      half of the blanket. I'll make it up to you" he said, and kissed the
      top of her nose.

      "A little early for sex, don't you think?"

      Scott glanced at the clock radio they had on the bedside table. 4:28.

      "It is a bit early. Anyway, I didn't have sex in mind."

      "What did you have in mind, then?" Jean sleepily mumbled against his
      chest, where he was holding her.

      "I was thinking of just keeping you warm" he said, and tugged the
      blanket securely around Jean, then letting her nuzzle back against
      him. He was lying on his side, facing her, her face against his
      chest. With a little sigh she slowly drifted to sleep. With a gentle
      kiss to her forehead, he convinced himself to get some more shut-eye,
      as well.


      Weekend. Saturday afternoon, to be exact.

      Most of the kids were at the town, shopping, or at their homes with
      their parents. The mansion was next to deserted.

      "Logan. Have you seen Jean?"

      "Kitchen. I'm heading there, too" Logan said, with a cigar in his
      mouth. Scott coughed at the smoke.

      In the kitchen, Jean was by the stove as Logan sat down by the
      counter. The Professor was sitting next to him, having tea, and he
      eyed Logan's cigar.

      "Logan, my repeated requests about smoking in the mansion
      notwithstanding, continue smoking that in here... and you will spend
      the rest of your days under the belief you are a six year old girl."

      "Could you really do that?" Logan eyed him skeptically.

      The Professor smiled. "I'll have Jean braid your hair."

      Logan looked at Jean, who was laughing.

      "Oh, I'd make you little french braids down the sides" Jean said,
      pointing at the sides of her own head for emphasis, "then tie them up
      with pink ribbons. And just to make you even cuter..." she said, and
      took a little pink fridge magnet of the fridge door and stuck it to
      Logan's forehead.

      Logan snarled at her, took the magnet off, but just in case put out
      his cigar. Placing his teacup on the table, the Professor excused
      himself, and Logan followed, right after grabbing a beer from the

      Scott stepped up to Jean and eyed her cookings. "Whatcha makin'?" he
      asked as he put his arm around her waist.

      "Honey-marinated chicken with yasmine rice."

      "You don't eat chicken" Scott said, confused.

      Jean smiled at him. "You do."

      Scott blinked at her, then moved behind her, to wrap both of his arms
      around her waist. "You're cooking just for me?"

      Jean shrugged. "I just thought you might be hungry."

      Feeling a strange, good-natured tug in his chest, he kissed her. "And
      what will you be having?"

      "I made salad" she said, pointing at the fridge. Scott walked over
      and took a large bowl of greek salad out.

      "You could have atleast let me slice the onions. I know you were
      crying over them like a baby."

      "Ah, but you would be wrong, Mr. Summers. I cut them underwater in
      the sink, so it didn't bother me one bit. Genious, aren't I?" Jean
      said, mock-proud of herself.

      "Very clever of you" Scott smiled at her. "I'll go set a table."

      "Thanks" she looked at him take out two plates from the cupboard,
      putting them on the counter behind her, then grabbing forks, knives
      and two wineglasses and taking them to a small table by the window.
      The table was just big enough for two.

      Jean filled his plate with the rice and chicken, and then filled her
      own with salad, putting lots of dressing on it. Scott snatched both
      plates, put them on the table, and held out the chair for Jean. He
      then sat down on his side and took a bite of his chicken.

      "Well?" Jean looked at him anxiously.

      "Delicious." At Jean's pleased look, he said, "Why'd you do this?"

      Jean looked up, after picking up a black olive from her salad. "Just
      wanted to."

      "So nothing's wrong?"

      "Scott, why are you giving me the third degree? Can't I just try to
      make you happy?" For emphasis, she put her fork back on the table.

      "Jean... You are making me happy. Just thought you were upset, or
      something" Scott reached over the table to stroke her cheek.

      "It's nothing. Now shut up and eat your dinner, before it gets cold"
      Jean smiled at him.

      Scott grinned back. "Yes, ma'am."


      Later that evening...

      "Knock, knock!" Scott said, leaning against the doorjamb of Jean's
      office. Jean looked up from her papers and smiled at him, lifting her
      glasses up the bridge of her nose.

      "Who's there?"

      "Scott's here, my dear" he said with an old British accent.

      "Scott who?"

      He relaxed and came over to her, smiled as he knelt down before
      her. "Scott who's taking you to the beach for picnic so go get ready.
      Or you'll miss the sunset."

      "Scott, the sun sets in an hour. There's no way we'll make it."

      Scott shrugged. "The Blackbird needs a test drive."


      "You're doing fine, Jeannie."

      "I'm not sure. It's still a bit shaky" Jean said, trying to decide
      whether to focus on the controls or the view from the Blackbird's

      "It's just turbulence. You're doing fine. Just like the simulator,
      huh?" Scott grinned at her. She looked at him dreamily for a while,
      then snapped her attention back to the controls.

      "Don't distract me."

      "There's the ocean. Do you want me to take over or are you going to
      try landing?"

      "She's all yours."

      Scott switched the controls to his command, and Jean sighed in
      relief. She might be a good pilot, but Scott was still better. She'd
      rather give her life to Scott's hands than take both of theirs in

      Scott gently landed the jet with practiced ease on a grassy patch of
      land above the cliff. The sandy beach below glowed golden in the
      evening sun light. After shutting down the engines, Scott grabbed the
      picnic basket from the seat behind him, and hold out a hand for Jean.

      They spread a blanket on the ground. Scott sat down, leaning his back
      against a tree trunk, and pulled Jean into his arms. She leaned into
      him, sighed and relaxed. The sun was just above the horizon, dying
      everything in golden yellow. She looked over at the picnic basket,
      cracked the lid curiously, only to have Scott shoo her hand away. He
      pinned her into his arms.

      "What hurry are you in?" he teased.

      "I thought we were having a picnic. That usually means food."

      "Silly you."

      "You dragged me all the way over here and you won't even feed me?"
      she turned her head to pout at him. He found her unbearably cute and
      burst out laughing.

      Scott flipped her over, so she was pinned against the tree and he sat
      between her legs, putting them to rest on his waist. He pulled the
      basket over, reached inside and took out a large tupperware bowl. He
      started opening the lid, put then had a better idea.

      "Close your eyes."

      "Excuse me?"

      "Close them. Now."

      "Yes, sir" Jean closed her eyes, and a moment later he felt Scott
      blindfold her with her own scarf she had worn around her neck.

      "What on Earth are you doing?" she chuckled. Scott opened the bowl
      lid and took out a strawberry dipped in whipped cream, and touched
      her lips with it, watched her take a bite.

      "Mmm. Romantic, are we?" Jean said dreamily and pleasantly surprised.

      "Yes" Scott said, kissed her, "I though you might like it."

      "You know me too well, then. One of these days you're going to get
      bored of me."

      Scott got some whipped cream on the tip of her nose, and kissed it
      off. "Never."

      After eating all the strawberries, Scott took the blindfold of her.
      The sun had just disappeared a few second ago, and the horizon was
      colored in oranges, red and purples.

      "Beautiful" Jean sighed.

      "I know" Scott said, never taking his eyes of her.

      "You're not even looking" Jean teased.

      "Yes, I am. But the sunset looks much better when it's reflecting
      from your eyes."

      Jean was closed to tears, blushed and looked down, on his chest. She
      absently played with the top button on his shirt. "I don't believe
      you" but she was smiling.

      "Well, that's a shame," Scott said, taking a little velvet box from
      the basket, opened it, and revealed the most beautiful ring one could
      imagine, "I was really hoping you'd be puddy in my arms when I'd ask
      you to marry me."

      Jean took the box, turned it so the remaining sunlight hit it, made
      it sparkle. "Oh, Scott."

      "Just say yes. I'll settle for that."

      "You would, wouldn't you" Jean teased. "Yes, then. Since you asked so

      "Knew it was worth it" Scott smiled, taking the ring out of the box
      and slipped it on her finger.

      "I love you" Jean said, kissing him long and deep. "And I'm really
      hoping you'll fly the jet home. I won't be able to sit after what I
      had in mind."

      Scott looked up at her mischievous eyes, then had a rush of blood to
      his face at the shock of what she'd just said. But the blood quickly
      turned it's course to south.

      She kissed him again, and slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. Soon
      their clothes were scattered on the grass in the darkening evening.
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