Quixotic

Quixotic Chapter Seven (NC-17)

Disclaimers Apply

 

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…I think Billy is
hiding out with Tim. Check for
kilts. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink
and Dracena are loverly and delightful for hosting! J ProPhile is sparkled. Readers/Reviewers: *muse kisses * in thanks for reading and reviewing!

 

 

 

“Scott,
stop it. I’m trying to study!”

“You’ve
been looking at the same page for ten minutes…you need a break!” He kissed the back of her neck again and
earned a sharp jab to the ribs for his trouble.

“I need to
memorize all this by next Friday! It’s
winter finals and if I get less than a B, I have to take the class over
again.” She sighed and closed her
eyes. “Why do I want to be a
doctor? Why didn’t I want to be a hair
dresser or something?”

“Because
then I’d have to be your practice dummy and I look terrible with
highlights.” He kissed her again, this
time holding onto her elbows to prevent further jabbings. “Jean, take a break. You’re forehead is starting to remind me of
Mare Winningham’s[1] and that’s
kind of scary.”

Absently,
she rubbed her forehead. “Scott, you
don’t understand…”

“Yes, I
do,” he said firmly, reaching around her to shut her book. “You’re studying too hard and stressing
yourself out. You’re going to give
yourself ulcers. Now, take a break and
come out with me.”

“Where are
we going?” she sighed after a moment.

“Out.”

“That
covers a lot of area…out of the kitchen? Out of the house? Out of the county?” She sent the book towards her backpack,
sitting on the chair across from her, and let it fall with a thud. “How about just to bed? I’m so tired I could sleep right now.”

His smile
faltered slightly. “Well, I was going
to say just to the pier…”

She felt
his disappointment radiating keenly.
“Okay. The pier it is. Let me get my jacket and I’ll meet you…” Jean made a mental note to set her alarm two
hours early so she could get some studying in before she was supposed to be at
Cecilia’s office and headed upstairs to get her jacket. As she fastened it and patted her pockets
for her gloves, she caught a flicker of movement in the trees near the lake,
something flashing white in the branches of the evergreens, still needled even
in winter. It was so quick that she
almost dismissed it but she could feel them moving with her developing
telepathy. Probably Warren…I think
he’s here this weekend… Betsy is still here to he might be visiting. But why would he be up in the trees? She fluffed her hair over her collar and
traipsed down the stairs with a frown.

“I figured
since you hadn’t eaten tonight you might…what’s wrong?” Scott broke off his near-excited preamble
with a frown of his own. “What’s
wrong?”

“I thought
I saw something out there in the trees…”

“You’re
hallucinating. Or it was a bird.”

“They’ve
all gone south for the winter,” she responded absently, staring into the
darkness beyond the lake, not even noticing the late-night picnic Scott had set
out and her telescope positioned at the end of the pier.

“Maybe it’s
lost. Or from the North Pole and this
is warm for it… C’mon, Jean. Sit down.”

She finally
noticed his pains and smiled. “Scott,
you didn’t have to do all this…” She
did not mention that it would have been warmer to do this inside, at that, and
instead smiled even more broadly and slipped her arms around his waist to kiss
him. “What’s the telescope for?” she
asked, finally noticing it’s presence.

“Ah…your…er…star
is brightest tonight.”

“You’re
cute when you blush.”
“To the moon, Alice…[2]”
he muttered, taking her hand to lead her to the card table he had set up on the
planks of the pier. They fell into a
relative silence as the meal began, rapidly cooling in the freezing night. Every once in a while, Jean would glance
back towards the tree line and frown, her fork halfway between her plate and
her mouth. Finally, after the fourth
time, Scott sighed. “Jean, we’re all
alone out here. All alone.”

She smiled
ruefully and twined more cold spaghetti around her fork. “I guess you’re right. I’m working on three hours of sleep here…sorry.”

“Don’t be
sorry, Jean,” he said gently, reaching across to take her hand. “Just promise me you’ll take time for
yourself before you pop a vein from studying so hard. You’ll do great. You’re going to be a fantastic doctor one
day.”

She could
not help it. She blushed deeply before
averting her gaze and reaching for her water.
“How’s the auto shop class going?”

Scott made
a muted noise of frustration and attacked his bread. “Nice subject change, Jea

“Why does
that make you all…” They both paused then, Scott’s bread dangling from his
fingers and Jean’s frown deepening. “Did
you hear that?”

“Depends…what
did you hear?”

“Hold,
villain!” Kurt leapt out of the darkness to land in the middle of their table,
upsetting the dishes and water, sending a spray of ice cold liquid all over
Jean.

“Not again,”
Scott groaned.

“Kurt, what’s
wrong with you?” Jean leapt to her feet and sent the shattered dishes into a
neat pile, away from Kurt’s bare feet. “Get
down from there!”

“Silence,
hag!” He brandished what seemed to be Remy’s bo at her.

Scott was
not sure if he should defend Jean or Kurt after that comment. Kurt seemed in the most need after a second’s
triage so he moved to distract him. “I
thought you had a…er…assignation…”

“Silence,
Gisbourne!”

“Who?”

Jean rolled
her eyes. Are we still humoring
him?

Yes,
I think…

“He’s not
Guy of Gisbourne,” she sighed to Kurt.

“I said
silence, hag!” He whirled to face her,
leaping from the table to land on the pier with a soft thud. “I have never struck a woman in my life but
your hideous face makes me think twice about assigning you to the fairer sex!”

Jean blinked,
not sure if she should laugh or slap him.
She opted for a variant of the latter and reached for his arms, which
turned out to be a mistake. She found
herself flat on her back on the pier, the end of the staff pressed to her
throat just enough to threaten without hurting her. Scott lunged forward to pull Kurt away but she made a small “no”
motion with her hand. “Kurt, let me up
please.”

“You work
against me, hag! You imprisoned my
Marian!”

Scott was
moving slowly around to get behind Kurt, who’s attention was riveted on Jean. She licked her lips and made the quick
decision not to use her powers on him; she was not sure how deep his fantasy
went and if he really thought she was a witch of some sort… “I’m no hag, Kurt. I’m Jean. Jean Grey,
remember? I helped you with your
project for Beast’s bio class last week?
I went with you to get Kitty’s Chanukah present?”

The
pressure of the staff eased slowly as he stared down at her. “Jean?”

Scott chose
that moment to strike. He grabbed Kurt
from behind and the resulting effect was something like a cat fight. Kurt’s more flexible and lithe body bent and
twisted in ways Scott d nod not imagine keeping up with, ending up in Scott
being taken off guard not once but twice, the first time by a kick to the head
and the second by a staff-blow across the back. He hit the pier with a heavier thud than Jean had and sighed as
the wind was knocked out of him. Jean
rolled to her feet and held out her hands pleadingly to Kurt. “Come on.
Let’s go into the house and…”

His face
underwent a remarkable change in expression.
“ My love…”

It took
Jean a second to realize he was not talking to her. She followed the direction of his besotted gaze to find Kitty
stalking towards them from the mansion.
“Thank God!” the older girl cried.
“Kitty, come control your boyfriend!”

“If I
could, would he be out here like this?” she muttered. “Kurt, listen to me…you don’t have to vanquish anyone or…or…whatever. Look, come inside where it’s nice and warm
and let’s talk.”

“Come with
me,” he said urgently, holding out his hand to Kitty. “We’ll be safe from Gisbourne and Nottingham’s hag…”[3]

Kitty snickered
briefly at the outraged look on Jean’s face before her shivers took her body
over for a moment. “Kurt, sweetie, it’s
almost twenty degrees out here. We can’t
spend the night in the trees like you want to.
You might be okay but I’ll get frostbite or worse. Please…” She let a note of pleading creep
into her voice. She had dressed hastily
and was regretting it. She could feel
the licks of cold air slipping up the legs of her jeans, biting her ankles
where she wore no socks, the icy fingers of night time making her flesh rise in
bumps and shivers along her arms and back and stomach. Her scar hurt. “Please?”

Jean was
inspired. The basement. Tell him you know somewhere safe and take
him to the basement. His mind will make
something of it. I’ll go get Beast and
the Professor as soon as you can get him out of here. Scott was
stirring at her feet and she did not want a repeat of the earlier
incident.

Kitty
nodded to show she had heard. Kurt was
staring at her with consternation, his hand still held out for her to
take. “I know somewhere safe and warm,”
she said. “Somewhere the..er…hag can’t
enter.”

“Holy
ground?”

“Sure, holy
ground…” She took his hand and pulled
gently. “Come on.”

Kurt
frowned, making a hex sign at Jean that she highly suspected was Rom in
origin. “Stay back, hag!”

“Staying
back,” she muttered, dropping to her knees to tend to Scott. I’ll give you ten minutes, Kitty.

Got
it. “Come on, Kurt. Let’s go…the…hag…scares
me.”



[1] Good
actress, scary forehead. Really. It
wrinkles like a shar pei’s when she emotes.


[2] Old Honeymooners
line. Whenever Alice would tick off
Ralph or embarrass him or whatever, he’d say “To the moon, Alice!” which isn’t
too funny now that I think about it b/c it implied domestic violence, but he
never hit her and she had the last word every time. But still…

[3] Stealing
from the Kevin Costner version here…