Jean Grey (levistrauss) wrote in x_emplary, @ 2008-02-09 18:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | jean grey, scott summers |
Pillow Talk
Who: Jean and Scott
Where: Their room.
What: Discussing the wedding.
The room they shared was not so big, but it was more than enough for the two of them at the moment. It had all the necessities, a double bed, with two bedside tables, a big wardrobe, and the bathroom was a little bigger than some of the other rooms, presumably so that two toothbrushes could sit in the cup by the sink. The only drawback with sharing such a confined space with her fiancé was that there was only one desk, which Scott had claimed as his own because Jean had her own desk down in her office.
It wasn't that she minded him having the desk. He did important work, and he always kept it neat and tidy so if she ever needed to find a pen to borrow or use his laptop she never had any problems. But when it came to planning a wedding, there was little space left for her to work, so she'd done the next best thing and had turned the bed they shared into a makeshift workspace for the moment.
Diagrams and plans were strewn across the bed in a very haphazard way, photographs across the pillows, fabric swatches on the comforter, her wedding planner was in the middle, stuffed to the brim with phone numbers and plans and things, and in the middle of it all sat Jean, working with a single-minded determination on her makeshift desk.
Scott wasn't a dumb man, not by any means, but there was something of a gender gap where it came to the expanses of his intelligence. When he came into the room and saw the bed he shared with his fiancée strewn and covered with papers and fabric he couldn't help but stare, stopping in the doorway and scratching his head. "Jean...?"
It took him a moment before he could actually enter the room without feeling entirely overwhelmed. He'd tried to stay out of her way when it had come to the wedding planning thing, figuring that he would only confuse or hinder anything she was trying to do. He didn't know peach from apricot and he figured those sorts of decisions were going to be involved. He'd told her that he prefered steak or chicken to fish, but that was really it. Scott was convinced upon seeing all of this that it had been the right choice.
His desk and chair were clear, which he supposed he should have been thankful for, and so he gravitated towards the chair for a place to sit. "I thought we were trying for a small wedding?" was his pathetic attempt at a joke as he sat down. Alex always had said that his sense of humour needed work.
"It is!" Jean said innocently, looking up from her planner, where she'd been visciously striking out dress shops that she and Irene had visited and that they had been less than impressed with. "You should be happy it's no bigger, or I'd turn into a real dragon over all this."
Her face morphed a little, her eyes narrowed into slits and turned a viscious angry red, her bright red hair turned a dark ebony black and she bared her teeth which had been sharpened into points. The little mask only lasted a few seconds before she relaxed and turned blue again.
"It isn't at all easy to plan a wedding when half the guests are superpowered, and the other half are normal.. Speaking of, have you asked Alex yet? Because you two need to go and find yourself suits by the end of the month, and don't you dare think you can wear that ratty old one buried in the back of the cupboard."
"I haven't asked him. I just assumed--" Scott stopped himself sensing that if he went on Jean would be giving him another look that involved sharpened teeth and it took longer for him to grow his own set. "I'll ask him later. In person. Not over the phone, or email... don't worry." He'd find Alex a bit later, maybe after dinner that night.
Scott glanced over at the papers again. "Half the guests aren't superpowered?" Was it a bad reflection on the life that he and Jean lead that he honestly couldn't think of that many people who he knew who weren't superpowered? He wasn't sure, but he knew that he couldn't. Jean's family came to mind, but not much beyond that.
"Are we inviting Emma and Sean and the rest of the academy?" Scott couldn't really tell from everything spread out on the table. A piece of rather ugly flowered matieral caught his eye. "Which lucky cousin are you putting in that?" It was only after he spoke that he hoped the swatch of fabric wasn't one of Jean's favorites or something of the like.
"Emma, I think." Jean said with an evil grin. She had no cousin called Emma, and Scott knew that very well. "I don't know, I think the pattern would definitely pop if she wore that."
She picked up the fabric swatch in question and handed it over to him so that he could touch and feel it. "It's curtain fabric. I was thinking for the boat house they might look nice. But obviously you don't think so so I'll look around for something less garish."
Jean unfolded her legs and began to collect up photographs and swatches so that they would have room on the bed to sleep on. "Both Emma and Sean will be invited. I'm not sure that we need to invite the rest of the school along. They'd make many more mouths to feed, and that would mean I'd need to start using the floor as planning space as well as the bed.. Unless there is anyone you want to come you haven't told me about?"
That was a wedding question which Scott could answer without hesitation. "No, I think Sean and Emma are enough from Salem," he said with an assuredness he wasn't going to express for anything else in this process. "My list is pretty short. Emma, Sean, and Moira are the only people from outside of the mansion." It helped, keeping the list short, when one's only other family was a brother (and potential sister-in-law).
"The professor would probably like if we invited Stephen as well," he added, referring to Dr. Stephen Strange, a close friend of Charles' and one of the many who'd tried to help Scott when he'd first arrived at the mansion.
Scott reached across to take the piece of fabric from Jean. Now that he could feel it he realised that no, it probably wouldn't have done as a dress, but he couldn't see how one would have known that just by looking. "It's not garish, and if you want it for curtains then I'm fine with it." He'd found that that answer kept him out of a good deal of trouble, and honestly he wasn't lying. He wouldn't really care when it came down to it and he wanted Jean to be happy in their first home.
"Don't just say that to get out of having an opinion, Scott." Jean said sternly, popping the photographs and swatches into her planner in no particular order. The papers and diagrams came next and by the end of it all the planner was stuffed almost to a breaking point. You could practically hear the spine straining. She lent over the side of the bed and tucked the planner underneath it on her side, so that they wouldn't accidentally kick it or trip over it.
"I know you want me to be happy, but I want you to be involved so we can say that it's our house and mean it." With that said she hopped off the bed and walked into the bathroom. Her teeth needed brushing before they went to bed.
If being involved meant sitting among the pile of papers and fabrics that had been scattered so far and wide, then Scott wasn't sure how involved he would be able to get without sinking far into some sort of interior decorating insanity. "Believe me," he called out to her. "It's better you're doing this. But... I wouldn't object to new curtain fabric." There, an opinion.
He was looking forward to moving into the boathouse, that wasn't to be mistaken, he'd simply forgotten about the part where, though it came furnished, they would have to change it around to suit their tastes. Mostly, he'd been focused on the fact that in the boathouse there would be more space. Space and privacy, both of which made his canine side practically giddy in excitement.
That had simply seemed a more pressing matter than decorating. Scott carefully laid the spare fabric swatch neatly on his desk and got up to follow Jean into the bathroom. Though she was trying to brush her teeth, he wrapped his arms around her for the moment and kissed the top of her head. "Really, Jean?" he said softly. "I'm going to be happy if you are."
"That's very romantic." She said with a bit of difficulty as her mouth was full of foamy toothpaste. She spat into the sink then looked back up at Scott's reflection in the mirror. "But I'm happy when you tell me what you think. I'm not a mind reader. The last thing I need is for you to silently despise a choice I make when it could've easily been solved by a little communication."
She went back to brushing her teeth, her spare hand resting on the arms wrapped around her stomach.
Well, at least he'd gotten romantic. That worked. He tilted his head down slightly and sniffed at her hair. Perhaps an annoying habit, but he liked to reassure himself, even if she was standing right in front of him and he had his arms wrapped around her.
"I'm glad you can't read my mind," he smiled slightly. "I get enough of that from War." Besides, he liked to think that he really didn't have any secrets from Jean, besides maybe his opinions on curtains and upholstery, but if she really wanted to know he'd tell her.
"So, what else is in those binders?" he asked, doing his best to sound like he would be getting engaged in the whole planning thing.
Jean grinned and spat again, turning on the tap to wash out the toothbrush and fill her glass with water so that she could properly rinse her mouth out. "You really want to know?" She said before taking a gulp of the water, swishing it around her cheeks then spitting it into the sink.
She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, getting rid of the extra foamy toothpaste she hadn't rinsed out. "It holds the secret to the meaning of life, the location of the holy grail, and the answer to where lost socks go when you wash them." She said, turning around so that she was facing him properly, and with no where else to put them she loosly wrapped her arms around his neck.
"So you'll stop yelling at me when they come up missing then?" Not that Soctt was often found without matching socks, but even he had been known to lose a few socks now and again.
When she turned to face him he leaned in to kiss her, but thought better of it when he realised that his own teeth hadn't been brushed. "Sorry, wolf breath" Scott said, pulling back and grabbing his toothbrush from the cup they shared on the sink. Toothpaste was next.
"Is there anything else you want me to help with?" he asked before starting to brush.
"Asking Alex is the only thing I need you to do right now. And getting yourself suits. Get what you like, there, but you're not allowed to have a blue tie, or a blue lapel pin. Just basically no blue if you can help it." With that, she left Scott to brush his teeth while she began getting undressed. She tossed all her dirty clothes into the basket in the corner and grabbed her pyjamas out of the drawer.
She'd never really had much shame concerning her body, and she definitely had none in her own room when her fiance was her only witness. But even then, she could happily wear skimpy revealing clothing, or raunchy outfits when she knew that she could adjust the size of any part of her body that might perhaps be construed as too big or too small, whatever the case may be. But her pyjamas were nothing special, just a plain black night-gown.
Scott grinned around his toothbrush before spitting in the sink. "Your mom hasn't talked you out of walking down blue yet. Good." He didn't bother to hide the satisfcation in his voice when it came to it. He wouldn't have called it smugness. Scott liked Jean's blue, scaly skin, her yellow eyes, and her bright red hair. It wasn't that he didn't like her other 'normal' forms as well, but it was the blue girl he'd fallen in love with.
"I'll ask Alex this weekend." He turned around, catching a good eyeful of bare skin from his fiancé. The rare smile on his lips remained a while longer as he watched her slip the nightgown over her body. "My eyes are blue," he pointed out, shucking his shirt and dumping it in the basket as Jean had. He sat down on their bed and started pulling off his pants. "The sales clerks are going to be throwing blue ties at me."
Jean rolled her eyes. Salespeople needed to find a different way to accessorise, in her opinion. Blue wasn't her best colour anyway, especially when she was in her natural form. "Well you can figure something out. Tell them your fiancée is colour blind or something.. or just put your foot down."
She pulled the covers back on her side of the bed and slipped underneath them, wishing she'd thought to put a hot water bottle in here a little while back, because the sheets were a little cold. "Mum and I have reached a compromise. I'll be blue for the wedding, but when it comes time to take the photos, there'll be two shoots. One blue and one normal-looking."
"That's good to hear." Scott slipped into the bed beside her. For someone who turned into a wolf he was rather scrawnily built and lacked a good amount of body hair. He was always afraid of his elbows and knees digging into Jean's body, but he wrapped his arms around her anyway to keep her warm.
He ran his fingers across a few inches of skin on her shoulder. "I like you blue," he murmured. It was a common endearment between the two, Scott often making his love for her natural form quite well known. "With yellow eyes. And scales... goes well with my fur."
"And I like your warm feet." Jean said, snuggling in close and entangling her legs up in with his. "I think that's why I'm marrying you. Your feet that keep me warm at night."
Sleeping with a man who was a dog more often than not definitely had its benefits. She had a lower body temperature, he had a higher one. It was good for him in summer and lovely for her in winter.
"I like to know I'm useful," he said, kissing her skin gently before laying his head back down on the pillow. "Good night... I'll see you in the morning."