One of Us

There was something in the way she looked at him that made his heart skip a beat. There was something in the sound of her voice, the way she said his name that sent a shiver down his spine. And he felt a strange sort of comfort feeling her warmth next to him in bed every night.

But that warmth was missing tonight. So it only made sense that he would get up and search for it.

He heard the echo of his feet against the metallic floors of the basement. There was only one place that she would be, only one place that she had been except bed, at this time. So, of course, that was the first place he decided to check.

And there she was, her red hair falling gracefully down her back as she stood studying the various charts and graphs and x-rays that were in front of her.

"Jean," he said, hoping to catch her attention. But he didn't.

"Amazing," she whispered to herself, preoccupied by the information.

He repeated, "Jean," and she turned to him, smiling. Her smile, even so late at night, was enchanting.

"Scott, come look at this. It's incredible," she said, motioning to the x-ray. "His body, his skeleton is made up entirely of Adamantium, an incredible metallic alloy, stronger than steel."

"Enough about him, Jean," Scott replied. He was already more than sick of hearing about this guy, this animal. Then his features softened. "Come back to bed. I got up because I could only feel one of us there, and..."

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"And why not?"

"There's so much more to study, Scott. It's almost beyond belief that a person could survive a procedure this invasive. The metal is grafted to his skeletal structure."

Scott sighed and placed his lips on her cheek. "You can study more in the morning. For now, I think you ought to get some sleep."

"Scott, please!" she snapped, shaking him away from her. Then she paused, trying to regain control of herself, and began again, "I love you, but I need to finish this up right now. I'll come back to bed when I'm finished."

"Then I'll wait here with you." He wasn't giving up so easily. "It's too hard to sleep without you there."

Her cheeks turned a shade of light pink as she turned back to her work, while Scott propped himself up on the operating table, letting his feet hang off the edge as he sat, taking in the sight of her.

"You know," Scott started again, "you look absolutely stunning under the dim glow of these florescent lights."

Jean grinned and, without looking away from the chart she held in her hand, replied, "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

Chuckling, he answered, "Only the best kind."

She continued to mumble mental notes to herself, scrutinizing each chart, each image, possibly looking for some clue that could help her understand Logan's mutant ability.

Times like this, I'm happier than ever, he thought, sitting idly, just watching Jean as she moved through her work. He couldn't help his eyes as they wandered her figure, taking in the way her silk nightgown fell against her skin. Every curve was accentuated by the ripples of the fabric, and he was so tempted to just grab hold of her waist and feel his body close to hers, to run his fingertips along her soft skin. He wanted every inch of her body to be—

Stop it, Scott. You're making me blush, came her voice, ever-present in his head. That was the trouble with telepaths; you could never keep anything a secret.

I just can't help myself, he joked with a smirk.

Jean set her work down and sighed. "You know, Scott, I think that Logan may be one of the strongest, most complex mutants I've ever met, and to think that he doesn't remember a single thing about his past..."

Great, he thought. Back to him again.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop."

Having Jean read his mind was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, he never had to say things aloud when he didn't want to; it was as if the two had a private means of communication with variable uses that could be employed whenever and wherever it was needed. But, on the other hand, she always knew what he was thinking, like when he was mentally being a jerk, something that, when it came to Logan, he sometimes just couldn't help.

Scott hopped off of the table and over to Jean, rubbing her shoulders gently. "I love you, Jean."

Please come back to bed soon.

"I love you, too," she replied, turning to him and pressing her lips against his. "I'll meet you there in five minutes. You go on up."

Scott stood in the elevator as it brought him back to the dormitory floor, and he thought about how lucky he really was. Beautiful, brilliant, Jean was everything he could possibly have asked for.

And a voice, her voice, resounded in his head, I heard that.