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Shiva	BY : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > General Dragon prints: 5214
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

SHIVA—CHAPTER FOUR (NC-17)

A/N Millions of
oodles of bushels of thanks to Foxfeather who is the bestest beta in the
world. She also reads my other stories
without telling me I’m a weirdo, so she’s hellacool for that. Go read her fic and be happy. The Queen of the Universe commands you. Thank you.

Standard disclaimers apply.

Jean was
rifling through the medicine chest in the upstairs bathroom when Scott found
her. A small pile of tubes and bottles
lay in the sink where she had obviously thrown them during her search and still
more tumbled from the shelves to join their fallen brothers and sisters. With a savage curse, Jean flung an empty
bottle down and slammed the door. “Damn
it!” Jean pressed her fingers over her
eyes, a vein throbbing in her temple.

“Looking
for something?” He adopted a casual
pose against the door frame, hoping that she was too distracted to tell how
nervous he was.

“Aspirin.” She peeked between her fingers to regard his
relaxed posture. “What’re you up to?”

“Just…wandering.” He cleared his throat and schooled his
features into something resembling blandness.
“What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t
hear that scream?” Dropping her hands,
Jean rolled her neck to relieve some tension.

“I was in
the garage with my head under the hood of the car for the past two hours…” He
shrugged.

“Kitty had
a nightmare and she screamed. Everyone except Amara and Beast went running.”

“So why the
headache?” Scott walked towards her,
ready to lay comforting hands on her…anything…if need be.

“She
projected. A lot. Panic, confusion, sadness, terror….It hit me
hard. I dropped my shields when she
screamed and they didn’t come back in time to block out the feelings…” Jean let out a harsh breath and rubbed her
hand over her mouth. “I so need
painkillers…”

Eyeing the
mess in the sink, Scott suddenly remembered the great rush on pain relievers
two weeks ago, when most of the women in the mansion seemed to be on their
cycles at once. “Um, I think we’re all
out up here. Beast would have in in
the infirmary.”

“Ugh. I didn’t want to go all the way down
there…” Jean sighed and finally seemed
to notice something about Scott.
“You’re awful clean for someone who just got out from under the hood of
a car.”

“I um,
changed first. Showered.” Indeed, his hair was still a little damp.

“Ah. Any particular reason?” Against her better judgment, Jean sent a
tentative mental finger to stroke Scott’s mind and found…What the hell?

Scott
smirked involuntarily. He had been prepared,
blocking her as soon as he saw she was suspicious. “Stay in your own head, Jean.”

“Sorry.”
She did seem contrite, so he let it go.
“You’re just acting weird.”

“Weird for
me or weird in general?”

“Both…” She narrowed her eyes at him and found that
it actually helped the headache. “Is
this about the kiss in the Danger Room?”

“Possibly. Or maybe it’s because I just wanted to clean
up after getting all sweaty working on my car.” Scott took a subtle, deep breath and forced latent courage to the
surface. “I think maybe you need to
relax. You know, some quiet time…” Jean had lowered her guard and now she
cocked her head in curiosity. Okay…I’ve
got her attention. “Let me help.”

“Scott…I
need to think. I told you that the
other night.[1]”

“Jean! Just let me help you. As a friend…your best friend.” Got her in one!

Jean
relented, albeit cautiously.
“Okay. First bit of
touchy-feely, and I’m outta there. If
you get rid of this headache, though, I owe you big time…” Scott chuckled and took her hand, leading
her out of the bathroom and down the hall. When they reached the stairs, Jean
dug in her heels. “This isn’t going to
be a production, is it? I mean, downstairs…I
don’t feel like the effort.”

Scott
rolled his eyes behind his glasses. He
had expected this, or something similar.
“You come downstairs you you don’t like what happens, I promise I won’t
rag on you about Duncan for the next six weeks. You like, well…” He
shrugged, as if to say liking whatever was waiting was reward enough.

“Fine.” Jean honestly stopped caring about his
ragging on Duncan some time back but it was part of their routine for her to
get upset about it. She just never
bothered to tell him that it did not bother her, so much did she like the
interaction. “Lead on, MacDuff!”[2] The couple went down the stairs and Scott
surprised Jean by leading her out the front door, around the side of the house
towards the garage. “What…”
“Shhh! You’ll see.” He was walking faster now and Jean found that she was almost
jogging to keep up with Scott. “Ta-da!”

“Oh, my
God.” Scott brought her to a halt in
front of the open door of the garage.
The bright light from within illuminated what was before her on the
driveway proper: a blanket, a telescope, and a basket. “Scott…”
She shook her head, trying to clear the image away. “It’s almost midnight! How…”

“Actually,
I was planning on waking you up…but finding you in the washroom was sort of
fate, huh?” He could not meet her eyes
and instead examined the oleander bordering the drive.

“You were
planning…Why?” Jean felt like there
were bees in her head, buzzing in confusion.
What the Hell is he trying to pull?

“Well,
actually, it’s for Valentine’s Day.”

“Hate to
break it to you, but it’s April. Late April
at that.” Is he high?

Scott
finally looked at her and she wished like Hell that he, just once, did not have
to wear his glasses. “You see, after we…um…yeah…at
Christmas, I was sort of plng ang ahead.
I got you a Valentine’s present and then things got kind of…weird.”

“You could
say that…” Weird was an understatement—months of dancing around each other,
carefully worded conversations with intermittent friendship, had made Jean
question her relationship with Scott.

“Well, the
thing is that I was cleaning out my closet and I found your Valentine’s present
that I never gave you. I kind of
figured that since we’re good again, I could give it to you now.” Scott jerked his head towards the set up and
smiled a little sheepishly. “So…you
want it?”

Jean was at
a loss for words. The telescope is
his—I recognize the stickers all over it.
God, don’t let it be jewelry. I don’t think I could handle that… “Sure…”
Scott motioned for her to go to the blanket, following closely
behind. “What is it?” she asked
somewhat fearfully.

“Just sit. “ He fished in the basket and came up with the
remote control to close the garage door.
“Now, for the mood…” He gave
Jean a smirk to allay her fears and closed the door. Jean noticed then that he, or someone, had turned off the
floodlights on that side of the house.
Somewhere above them, Kitty’s bedroom light winked out and the upstairs
bathroom light winked on. “Now, close
your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Jean closed
her eyes but did not hold out her hands.
She could hear Scott rummaging in the basket again and setting things on
the hard concrete next to the blanket. Fuck. It is jewelry. It’s a ring or bracelet.
Why else would I need to hold out my hands?

“Jean…hands!” Scott sounded mildly amused and Jean
complied, holding them with fingers slightly curved as if carrying something
heavy. “Palms flat, please!” Now even more confused, Jean flattened her
hands and jerked just a little when a flat, rectangular packet was placed in
them. “Open your eyes now!”

In her
hands, Jean held a plain white envelope.
What the…? A little part
of her was disappointed that it was not a small box from the jewelry store, but
for the most part she was intrigued. “Scott,
what is it?”

“Open it!” He was excited and did not care how obvious
he was.

“Ooookaaaaay…” She slid one pink-painted nail under the
sealed flap and delicately tearing it open.
Scott snorted something about saving wrapping paper and Jean raised one
imperious eyebrow in response. She
peeked inside the envelope, not divesting it of it’s contents quite yet, and
her brows snapped down in confusion.

“Take it
out! can can’t see what it is while it’s
still in the envelope!” Scott wanted to
jump up and down but restrained himself.

“Okay.” Here goes nothing… She slid the
contents out into her lap and paused in surprised, pleasant confusion. “Is this…?”

“Yeah. A star.”
He leaned forward and gently lifted the top sheet, a certificate written
in blue and purple script on parchment paper, sprinkled with gold stars. “It’s called after you…I, um, couldn’t think
of another name, since it is your star and all..”[3] Jean was at a loss for words. Scott showed her the star map printed on the
back of the piece of paper telling her the coordinates and magnitude. “I found out that this spot is the best
place to see it…”

“Oh.” Jean felt dumb, only capable of
monosyllables. Scott hastily adjusted
the telescope and motioned for her to look in the eyepiece. “Which one is it?”

“Lower
right corner, fabluibluish one…see it?”
Scott sounded anxious.

A long
pause and then Jean answered, a little breathless. “Yeah! Oh, Scott! That’s my star!” She felt insanely happy all of a sudden and wondered how much was
her and how much was being projected from Scott. Don’t be stupid, Jean—it’s all you! “Have you seen it?” She moved aside for him to look but he shook
his head.

‘I, um, I
look at it kind of often…” Scott was
red with embarrassment, digging through the basket again. “Cookie?”

Jean almost
laughed. “No, thanks…this is just too….too!” Breaking away from her second viewing, she
sat back on her heels and watched as Scott munched on his cookie. “Why?”

“Because,
well, because I love you. I love you,
Jean, and you always burned like a star to me.
I can’t see it like you can, you know, but I can see you. It’s so far away and burning bright, like
you are.”

“I’m right
here…”

“But you’re
not here.” He touched his heart,
cookie crumbs dropping from his fingers.
“You so far from my heart, Jean.
It hurt so much after Christmas and now it still does, but like I said
before, I will take what you offer me.
I’ll be the best friend you ever had if that’s what you want from
me. I’m just…I’m just happy that you’re
in my life.”

Jean felt
tears threatening to spill down her cheeks and turned quickly away, pressing
her eye to the telescope again and pretending to examine the star. Scott sighed next to her but otherwise
remained silent. The stars blurred
together like crystal fragments and Jean swallowed hard against rising whimpers
of confusion and need. What do I do
now?

“I’m sorry.” His words took her by surprise.

“Why?”

“This isn’t
very relaxing, is it? Now I have to
stop making fun of Duncan.”

He sounded
so sad that Jean laughed, a watery chuckle bubbling through her waiting
tears. “It’s relaxing, I promise!”

“But you’re
about to cry. Relaxing doesn’t involve
crying!”

“For me it
does!” Jean let the tears spill then,
not bothering to dash them away as she usually would. Scott reached for her briefly but then tucked his hands under his
thighs, fighting the temptation she embodied.
“Scott, I never cry! I’m scared
to cry…I’m scared to feel.
Making me cry like this…it’s very good!” She offered him a wavering smile and sniffed. “Just don’t do it too often.”

“Sure…sure…” He was at a loss. “Um, so you’re not mad?”

“No…”

“What do
you feel?”

“Afraid.”

“Oh.”

“No, that’s
good.” She did touch him then, patting
his arm. “Being afraid means that I’m
accepting the fact I can’t control everything.” Scott wriggled his hands free and, with Jean’s pale fingers still
resting on his arm, reached out a hand to touch her face. “I’m not afraid of you, Scott.”

“Good. I’m mostly harmless.[4]” I
want to kiss her so much…Her lips look so soft. She looks like an angel.
The need rose so fiercely in Scott that he could not stop it from
projecting. Jean stiffened and nearly
withdrew her hand, but Scott saved her the embarrassment, taking his off her
face and letting it rest on his knee instead.
“Sorry.”

Jean
visibly relaxed and seemed to turn something over in her mind. “No.”
She shook her head, her red hair swirling with the intensity of the
action. “Don’t be. I’m sorry for making you feel like caring
for me, wanting me, is a bad thing. I
have no right to make you second guess yourself or your feelings.”

“Oh, Jean…” Scott’s fingers flexed, longing to touch her
again, no matter how briefly, “I have never and will never second guess how I
feel about you. That’s one thing about
me that’s never going to change.”

A warm,
golden light flowed through Jean’s veins, thick as honey and sweeter than
wine. She saw then, she felt. Scott was not intentionally projecting, he
was not even aware that she could feel what he was feeling right then. Jean stopped breathing, simply feeling. It was like being embraced by a thousand
loving arms at once, cradled and nurtured and loved. She felt dizzy and realized then what she
was doing, surprising Scott with her deeply drawn lungful of air. “Scott…I understand.”

“What?” Jean’s eyes had taken on a new light,
something that pierced Scott to his core.

“I just…understand. I love the gift, Scott, but I need to go to
my room…. Sleep…something.” Jean stood,
gathering the gift to her breast as if it were her child. She paused one long moment, her lips parted
in such a way that Scott would have sworn she was about to kiss him. Instead she clutched the papers tighter and
jogged towards the door, leaving Scott alone in the dark with his
telescope. He stared after her, feeling
adrift.

Remy lit
his cigarette with a sputtering lighter.
Jean had run past him on her way to the mansion and did not even look
once. Bon.[5] Dis Cajun not be needin’ comp’ny dis nuit.[6] He had searched all over the house and grounds
for Jubilee, hoping that she had not already gone to bed. He was disappointed. He hotboxed[7]
the cigarette and ground out the remains with his booted heel. She tell me she love me den she run away
from me. I jus don’ get femmes. If I be lovin’ a fille, I be persuin’ her… Remy knew himself for a liar then, thinking
of his own strange dance around Jubilee.
He backed away as soon as she looked skittish, coming closer only when
she seemed not to notice he wa her her orbit.
Slipping silently into the mansion after Jean, Remy walked with silent
steps towards the kitchen for his after-smoke drink only to be brought up short
by a sniffling noise coming from the area of the study. He froze, his super-acute hearing straining
to hear another noise, something to clue him in on the noisemaker themselves. Another sniff let him know that the crier
was female and a muted curse told him it was Jubilee. Slipping into the shadows, Remy moved closer to the study,
pausing once when he heard her moving around.
When it was quiet again, he peered into the study. She was bathed in moonlight, huddled in a
deep, comfy chair near a bookcase. Her
nightshirt was pulled over her drawn-up knees and her face shone wetly. Quoi?
De p’tite never cries! Jubilee
shifted and scrubbed at her face with the back of one hand, trying to dash away
tears. She tousled her hair in obvious frustration
and Remy noticed that it had grown out a little. It wtilltill short but now it fell in soft spikes as opposed to
the hard, punk-looking ones of a few weeks past. He slid unnoticed into the room and crouched behind a divan. She had not seen him nor sensed him, a true
indication of how upset she was. Remy knew
a thief, no matter how long out of the game, was always alert. Jubilee stretched out her legs and Remy felt
his groin tighten painfully at the flash of bare thigh she presented. Gotta love dem gymnastics, eh
LeBeau? Remy dropped silently to
all fours and scooted a little closer, scenting her aroma of incense, letting
him know that she had been meditating earlier that evening. De tings I know ‘bout you, p’tite, could
fill volumes. He knew that she
practiced Buddhism, hiding it from everyone for fear she would lose her snappy façade. She knew that she talked to her parents
nightly, told them about her day and wished that they were proud of her,
wherever they were. She never cried
then, he knew. She never cried,
period. Jubilee leaned heavily against
one arm of the chair and sighed discontentedly. Remy froze where he was as her eyes swept the room twice, some of
her usual self returning. She skipped
over him, though, and he was instantly grateful for his dark clothing. When she turned her attention to the window
again, Remy rose silently to his feet and crossed the room with quick, pacific
steps. “What de prollem, chere?”

Jubilee
leapt to her feet and very nearly paf’d him before she realized it was
Remy. He had a card between his
fingers, not charged but ready to be, just in case she had attacked him. He knew that he could not, would not hurt
the girl, but he would distract her if she got too violent. “How long have you been here?”

Remy dropped
the card into his pocket and shrugged. “Not
long. You?”

“A while…what
do you want?”

“Why I gotta
want anythin’? Jus seein’ what be goin’
on.” He offered her a lazy smile and
she quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “What?”

“You never
do anything just because, Remy.”
Jubilee dropped the line of questioning, though, and sighed again. “I was just thinking, that’s all. Couldn’t stand being in my room
anymore. Needed to get out and didn’t
want to get dressed to go out, so here I sit.
Or stand, really.” Jubilee
crossed her arms, all too aware of Remy’s nearness and trying to put some
distance between herself and his heat.

“What you
tinkin’ bout?” Remy pitched his voice
lower than usual, leaning forward in a blatant flirtatious gesture. Jubilee did not seem to notice the signals
and he was not sure if he should be disappointed.

“Nothing…just
stuff.” Jubilee shrugged and took a
small step back, bumping into the window in the process.

“Stuff….dat
be somthin’. Why you not tellin’ ol’
Remy?” He shook his head sadly. “Here I be tinkin’ we be friends and you
keepin’ secrets… Dis here Cajun don’ know what he should be doin’, chere!”

Jubilee
felt trapped. The cold window was at
her back and warm Remy was so near her front.
“It was just mental sludge. Just
stuff. Nothing to stress over…”

“Hmm. You been cryin’. Remy not be tinkin’ dat “nothin’” make ya cry.” His thumb swept over her cheek and he felt
the shudder run through her body. Her
black lashes fluttered shut and Remy bit his lip against the urge to kiss her. “Ma belle….”[8]

“No. Don’t.”
Jubilee jerked her head away from his hand. “I can’t deal with being played with, Gumbo. Friend or no, I am not a toy.”

Anger
welled up in Remy. He struck his hand against
the windowsill and growled in Jubilee’s ear.
“Chere, you best be lissenin’ and lissenin’ good, eh? I not be playin’ roun wit you and I mighty
tired of you jerkin’ me roun’. Tell me
you love me den run off when I look twice.
Flirt, don’t flirt…tell me you not be wantin’ my kisses an my touches…what
the Hell is it you be wantin’ Jubilee?
You not be getting’ anyting if you keep being so flighty!”

Jubilee did
two things at once. She slapped Remy
hard across the face, raising a welt, and grabbed him by his black shirt,
dragging his face to her level. “You
have no idea what I’m about, Gumbo! You
couldn’t handle me!” Remy’s mouth
opened to say something but his words were stemmed by Jubilee’s bubble gum
flavored mouth on his. Her lips moved
against his like she was speaking a prayer, so reverently did he feel
them. Remy opened his mouth to her,
spanning her waist with his hands and lifting her to sit on the sill. She wrapped her arms around his neck and
held the kiss, tasting his full lower lip with the tip of her tongue. She gasped into his mouth as he reciprocated
with a long, slow caress of his tongue making her shiver with sudden, desperate
need. She clutched frantically at his
back and he slid one hand up to press against the soft swell of her
breast. She moaned then, and that broke
the spell.

Remy pulled
away gently, looking her in the eyes. “Non. Not here.”

“What?”
Jubilee was shaken, pleasantly so, and confused. The desire pulsing in her was clouding her judgment, making it
hard to understand what Remy was saying.

Remy
pinched her chin between thumb and forefinger.
“Lissen up, p’tite. Remy not be
takin’ you here. When de time be right,
you know I know. We do it dere an’ den, non? No matter where…” He dropped one last soft, hot kiss on her parted lips and vanished
into the dark of the room, leaving Jubilee shaking on the window sill.

A/N Yeah, yeah…no
Kurtty this one. It’s gonna be a
looooong story, so you’ll get it. I
promise… ;p

[1] The kiss
thing is in Forever…. Just in case
you’re coming in after intermission.

[2] I’m on a MacBeth
kick.

[3] Really. You can buy a star. Neat little star chart and all comes
w/it. It’s kinda cool to give as a
gift. And they can’t return it,
either! LOL.

[4] Douglas
Adams (RIP), Hitchhiker’s Guide series.
Earth was considered “mostly harmless.”

[5] Good.
Remember that Cajun is not as…correct…as French. Some of Gumbo’s grammar may seem off to French speakers…

[6] nuit=night

[7] Hotboxing is
when you smoke really, really fast.

[8] My beauty

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