Disclaimer: Cyclops and X-Men are the
property of Marvel Comics so donít sue please.
Jean Grey-Summers had spent the last five months in court. It was the most talked about topic in New York. Her case was against a county hospital in which the doctors had released her husband while he had just been treated for his injuries.
The fact that those injuries included six broken ribs and a punctured lung wasnít what brought the attention. What did were the demands in which she made. She didnít want any money from the hospital. All she wanted was the location of her husband. Even that wasnít what really brought out all the discussion. The fact that the hospital didnít just tell her whom he was released to did.
People all across New York thought that the hospital should just give her what she wanted and be done with it. However, they didnít on the basis that her husband said he didnít want her to know. That in turn sparked a whole other conversation. Some wondered what kind of wife she was that her husband would be checked into a hospital and then be released immediately and not ever have her informed.
Then there were others that simply figured that he had an affair, she put him in the hospital and then he left to be with the other woman. Some said that she was abusive and when he checked into the hospital, he got out before she could do anymore damage. Most thought that she should just let him be and not waste time and money suing the hospital when she could just as easily hire a private detective to do the same job. Last, there were the select few that knew the truth, and most of them agreed with the public.
She didnít care though, all that existed in the world for her was to find her husband and bring him home. It didnít matter how long it took, or what she had to do. Even if she had to lose everyone that had ever meant a damn to her, to have him back, it would be worth it.
As she stepped out of the courtroom, reporters flooded her. There seemed to be no release from them as one after another came to constantly ask her questions. There were even a couple that came by the mansion. She managed to maneuver her way around most of them, but Logan took care of the ones that didnít really want to.
Only when they were in their car did she finally let out a sigh of relief. The case had finally come to a close and for that she was glad. All she had really wanted to know was where her husband had been released. She understood that they had pollicies to follow, but she was his wife for crying out loud.
"One that has been separated from her husband for three and a half years," the familiar voice of the Professor sounded in her head.
She turned around to glare at the man in the back seat, "I didnít give you permission to read my thoughts Charles," she said.
"You didnít have to, you were projecting."
She muttered her apology and then turned around in her seat again. Logan climbed in the driverís side and started the car. After a few seconds he turned his head and asked, "Where we going?"
"Home please. Today has been a rather tiring day, and Iíd like to get some rest now." Xavier asked politely but with a slight edge that said not to mess with him.
"Jack Blackmanís house." Jean corrected and both men stared at her. She looked from one to the other before explaining, "I just found out where he is after three years. Iím not waiting any longer to see him." Then she once again stared out the window.
Logan looked over his shoulder at Charles. The older man just shook his head and looked up at the roof of the car. Logan let out the breath he was holding then put the car in gear and started driving. There was a long silence between them for almost an hour before Logan asked, "So how you gonna get him to come back?"
Jean just gave him the glare that he had come to dread when they were together before replying, "I donít know yet. I havenít thought that far ahead."
He almost slammed on the brakes right then and there. His head shot over to look at her like a bullet and he had to control the volume of his voice when he asked, "You mean youíve had all this time to think of something and you have nothing?"
"Iím not Scott alright. I just love him." She shot back.
"Well what if heís found someone else?"
The look on Jeanís face told him right then and there that he had gone too far. Jean looked upon him with pure hate, "Stop the car and get the hell out." Every word seemed to be its own sentence.
"Jennie, Iím sorry." Logan apologized.
"STOP THE DAMN CAR!" she shouted.
He did what she asked and then she told him with a very threatening tone, "Now get out, and take him with you." She directed her head towards Charles.
Logan visibly gulped. He opened up the backseat door and pulled Charles out. Once Xavier was safely in his wheelchair, Jean slid over into the drivers seat. She started the engine and looked at the two men standing on the sidewalk, "You can catch a cab ride home." Then she pealed away.
"There isnít anybody else," she thought to herself. "There canít be. Heís mine damn it. Iím the only one he has ever loved and Iím the only one he will ever love. If anyone tries to come between he and I may God help that bitch. Because no one else will."
Tiffany nuzzled her head further into Scottís chest. At that moment the world outside of the bed that she was sleeping in didnít exist. All she was aware of was that she had just slept with the man of her dreams. She was in complete and utter bliss.
Scott on the other hand had his mind on completely different matters. The previous night with Tiffany had taken his mind off of matters for a couple of hours, but as soon as he had woken up, the memories came back in full force. Only this time they were worse because he had also betrayed Helen just as she had betrayed him, maybe even more so.
"So, what do you want to do today?" Tiffany asked.
"Huh?" He stammered out. Only now directing his attention towards her.
"I asked what you wanted to do." She repeated looking up at him with a huge smile on her face.
"Uh I donít really know. What do you want to do?"
The content smile turned into a mischievous one when she answered, "Well, I can think of a couple of things we could do."
He rolled her back onto her side of the bed and then got out of it. While he was throwing on his clothes he told her, "I donít think that would be a good idea."
"Why not? You certainly thought it was a good idea last night," she said moving over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist.
Scott grabbed her arms and then forced them away. He looked directly into her eyes from behind his shades. He felt like he could lose himself in those eyes. After a little bit his mind returned to the present and he said, "Tiffany, stop."
Her smile faded into a look of concern, "Scott whatís wrong?" she asked.
He turned his head to look at the wall. Then after taking a deep breath and letting it out he turned back to her. "Nothingís wrong," he said placing a quick kiss on her lips. "Itís just that I need to get going. I have some things I need to take care of today."
"Oh," she said sitting back on the bed.
It was clear to Scott that she wasnít all that convinced. He mentally cursed himself for doing what he did. It wasnít fair to Helen, but it also wasnít fair to Tiffany. He feared he had gotten her hopes up, and now he had to bring them crashing down. "Tiffany," he started, "I think thereís something I should tell you."
"What is it?" she asked.
Scott took another deep breath before continuing, "Last night was a mistake." He saw her face fall. Scott could see that she was fighting back tears.
"We shouldnít have done what we did. I was hurting and I took for the easiest way out. That was unfair to you. And because I took the easiest way out I hurt Helen." He explained.
There was silence for a long time before Tiffany whispered, "I love you."
That statement had caught him completely off guard and there was only one thing he could think of saying, "What?"
Tiffany looked up at him and Scott could see the tears running down her eyes, "I love you Scott. I have for a long time now. The last five months that weíve spent together have been the best of my life. And last night I felt so good that I donít think it could possibly have been wrong."
Scott looked up to the ceiling, "It was Tiffany, it was." He then looked back down at her, "I hate to hurt you even further, but no matter how you feel about me, I donít love you."
Scott waited for that to settle in and he could see that she was hurt. He hated to do it but he had to continue. He lifted up her chin so he could see her eyes again; "Last night was special Tiffany. No matter what repercussions come of it, it will always be special. Not just because of what we did. Iím sorry that I used you to help me feel better, I truly am but at that time I couldnít see any other way out of it. I hope you can one day understand that."
She forced a small smile that made Scott feel better, "I do understand Scott, and crazy as it sounds I forgive you. But I canít forgive myself. I hurt my best friend, and because of that, I have to wonder what kind of a friend I am. I donít blame you for what happened, I blame myself."
Scott leaned in and kissed her forehead, "We understand each other then? This is a one time thing and nothing more."
"This happened once, and I wonít try anything else. But if you come knocking on my door, chances are I wonít turn you away." She told him.
"I guess thatís the best I can ask." Scott stood up and finished dressing. Once he was done he said, "Now all thatís left is to see if Helen can forgive me. And if I can forgive her."
Tiffany had a surprised look on her face, "Helen, what did she do?"
Scott looked at her, "Iím sorry, I guess I should tell you why I came here last night shouldnít I?" He then proceeded to tell her of the events that had happened the previous evening. Tiffany listened to the whole story and when he finished she told him the missing points of Helenís past, and about Nick.
"What do you mean heís not here?" Jean Grey-Summers asked the man at the door of the Blackman mansion. She had wasted no time in getting there as she broke several speed laws by at least triple the speed limit ninety percent of the drive. She was pulled over quite a few times in the process, most of them by the same officer. When it turned out that Scott wasnít there, she was angry to say the least.
"I mean exactly that. Mr. Summers is not here Ms. Grey." The doorman said.
"I beg your pardon." He asked.
"My name is Mrs. Summers. Not Ms. Grey."
"I see," he said as he rolled his eyes, "but that still does not change the fact that Mr. Summers is not in the house. Good day to you."
He was shutting the door when Jean put her foot in the way. The doorman looked down at it and then back at her. "If you persist in this Mrs. Summers, I may be forced to release the hounds."
Jean almost laughed at the threat. "Look Mr." She trailed off waiting for the manís name.
"You may call me Johnson."
"Johnson. I just went through the last five months in a court case to find out where my husband is. Now if he isnít here then Iím going to wait until he gets here. Do you understand me?" she asked.
He was about to reply when he heard Sydney call, "Johnson, what is going on down here?" as she walked down the elegant staircase that was in the middle of the foray to the mansion.
Johnson tilted his head down in acknowledgement of her, "A Mrs. Summers is here to see Mr. Summers. When I told her that he wasnít here she persisted in trying to come inside to wait for him. I was about to tell her that she could come back when he is here just before you came down the stairs."
Sydney took hold of the door away from Johnson and said, "Itís okay Johnson. Iíll take care of this."
"If you wish madam." Johnson started walking away.
Sydney called after him, "Call me Sydney, Johnson."
"As you wish madam," he called back.
Sydney turned back to Jean and asked, "How can I help you Mrs. Summers?"
"I was told that my husband was here. When I came to see him that butler told me to take a hike. I asked if I could come in and wait for him but he was hell bent on not letting me through." Jean told the dark skinned woman.
Sydney smiled as she motioned for her to come in the door. Jean thanked her and then looked around the room she had just entered. It was magnificent; the staircase was just the beginning. There were sculptures, decorations that seemed priceless, and the hardwood floor was fantastic. A beautiful red carpet led from the entrance and branched off into the other rooms. The paintings that covered the walls were something that Beast would be lost in for hours. There was even a fountain carved to look like children playing in a pool in the middle of the room.
"That was my first reaction when I saw this room for the first time," Sydney told Jean.
"Itís beautiful, it must be a wonderful experience to live here."
"It is, I love it so much that I couldnít leave even if I wanted to. The person that designed this place is very convincing." Sydney inwardly laughed at her own joke.
Jean caught the stray thought and almost smiled herself. "Iíll bet," she said to the other woman. "Is there some place we could sit down and talk while I wait for Scott, or do you have other things that you need to do?"
"No, I think that all of the things I have to take care of have been done. We can wait in the living room."
Sydney led the way and the two women sat and talked for hours. It was a very welcoming conversation for Jean. Over the past five months, every time she had tried to talk to someone they always had their own opinion of what she was doing. It was nice to finally be able to sit down and talk to someone that didnít prejudge her.
"So," Jean started as she set down her cup of coffee that Johnson had made for her earlier, "what do you do here, and how do you know Scott?"
Sydney took a deep breath, "Well, itís rather funny. I was originally hired to be his nurse after he broke a few ribs in a bar fight."
"So thatís what happened is it?" Jean asked knowing that it was a fairly good cover story. It allowed Scott to hide the fact that he had gotten the crap kicked out of him while still telling people that he got the crap kicked out of him.
"At least thatís what he told everyone. I donít buy it. The wounds he sustained are too precise to have been received in a drunken brawl. Thereís more to the story then he was telling. I tried to press the issue sometimes but he just avoided my questions." She explained.
"That sounds like Scott, he always seems to keep to himself. Sometimes I actually had to physically threaten him to talk to me. Our relationship at times was... enduring." Jean said with a smile.
"From what Iíve seen of him, I can believe it. I donít know how you stayed with him so long. Thereís still one thing I donít understand," Sydney began, "Why would Scott want to come here instead of going back home? From what Iíve heard you have a very capable staff."
Jean had to think for a few seconds on an excuse to that question. "We do have a great staff. Hank is a fantastic physician. My guess would be that he just wanted to see Jack and didnít want me dragging him back home and getting out of his way. Truth be told, I didnít even know Scott knew Jack."
Sydney took another sip of her coffee, "Yes well, Jack knows a lot of people."
"You seem quit taken with the man," Jean said.
Sydney looked at her for a second like she didnít know what Jean was talking about. Then it finally clicked, "Who Jack? Heís got this little boyish charm that just gets to me. Some times it amazes me how he can be a master of business and yet be such a child at the same time."
"People can often surprise you like that," Jean voiced as the front door to the mansion opened and shut.
Scott Summers walked into the gigantic home wearing black leather pants and a muscle shirt. In his right hand he held his long black trench coat expertly curled up to look like an ordinary thin leather jacket.
Jean did a quick glance in his direction before his eye caught her. He looked like he was in better shape then when he left. She guessed he was between two hundred forty and two hundred sixty pounds, very little of it was fat. Due to the bigger muscles his height had increased as well. To her he looked more handsome then when they were together, if that was at all possible.
When he saw her, he tensed. She could see every muscle through his shirt flex, and she had to catch her breath for an instant. A thought crossed her mind that maybe she should have gone back to the mansion to freshen up. She quickly tossed it aside and rose from her chair.
Sydney looked up at the two of them. She saw the obvious tension that was between the two, "I think itíd be best if I left the two of you alone."
She stood up and was about to leave when Scott said in a very cold tone, "Donít bother, Jean will be leaving now."
"Like hell I will," Jean shot back.
"Correct me if Iím wrong Jean, but this isnít your house," he said his tone still unchanged.
She locked eyes with him. Even though they were covered by his shades she could tell he was looking directly at her, "This isnít your house either."
Scott smiled inwardly to himself. No one except for Jack knew that he owned everything that was around them, "Right."
"I can see that you two have a lot of things to discuss. So I think Iíll just get out of your way." Before Jean or Scott could say anything Sydney was out of the room. She really didnít want to get in the middle of those two, and she was willing to bet that no one else on the planet was. Sydney began wondering how they had stayed together for however long they had been together.
"Congratulations Scott, you scared her off," Jean said as soon as Sydney had left the room.
Scott looked at her with surprise and disbelief, "Me? Youíre the one who refused to leave."
"Iím not going anywhere until we talk."
"Then youíre going to be waiting a damn long time Jean," Scott said before turning around, "If youíre going to be here, then Iím not." Then he started walking away.
Jean rushed after him and grabbed his arm just as he reached the door. She spun him around and looked him dead in the eye. There was a pleading look on her face and Scott hated it. He could never say "no" to her when she looked at him like that no matter how angry he was at her. All he wanted to do was make her feel better, and this time was no different.
"Scott please wait. We canít let it end like this, we canít." Her tone was full of regret, pain, and fear. "Please just listen to me. Thatís all Iím asking."
He resisted the urge to reach out and tell her that everything was going to be all right. Because at this point in time, he really didnít know, "All right Jean, talk. I canít guarantee that Iíll listen though."
Jeanís heart made a small jump. He was willing to be in the same room with her for a little while. It wasnít much, but it was a start. "Itís all I need," she thought, "Itís all I need."