Playdates and Permission Slips

15. Let’s Get Extracurricular

Author: OriginalCeenote

Summary: The dinner. The meeting. And the stuff that hits the fan after both.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Reiko, thanks for writing. I loved the last update.

“Jean, can I fix you some more tea?”

“No, that’s okay. I’m good. I’m about tea’d out.” Ororo made a small moue of pity and cleared away both of their cups, dropping the soggy bags into the trash.

“You should get some rest.”

“Are you kidding? It’s harder to hang around the house than it is to go anywhere else right now. Every time I sit down, Nate or Rachel nag me up to get them something, and any chance of some peace and quiet goes right down the toilet.”

“Scott’s always good for a little help. Have him take the kids out of the house for a while.”

“He’s helping Charles with this campaign and handling two new civil cases. He’s gone AWOL.” Ororo watched Jean fold her arms like a petulant child and stare out her living room window; a strange tingle of foreboding crept down her spine.

“He means well, kiddo. Not like I mind having you over. You just look so down today.”

“Scott’s acting like an ass,” she blurted out.

“Oh. Oooh.”

“Yeah. That about sums it up.”

“Does he seem stressed? You two getting along?”

“Last night didn’t help, Rory.” Jean usually never called her by a pet name. She was more accustomed to hearing Scott or Ali call her that, so it sounded odd coming from her lips. “I would have been more prepared if you’d told me ahead of time that you were heading over.”

“God, Jean, I’m so sorry! Scott didn’t make it sound like it was a problem!”

“He didn’t talk to me about it. That’s become the norm lately.” Grudgingly, she reminded herself that there were plenty of things she refrained from talking about with her husband, but heck, this was her turn to gripe while she had her favorite audience.

“I’m still sorry, Jean. You could have begged off when we got there.”

“No. No, no, no. I didn’t want to do that. I don’t just kick people out of my house, that’s rude.” Ororo wanted to ask her, then, why was she complaining about it after the fact?

“At least you didn’t have to cook,” Ororo pointed out.

“It would have been better if I had. Yeeecchhh…” Jean hated fast food grease, with rare exceptions. No, she didn’t want fries with that.

“Right. We should’ve bailed from the jump. Got it!”

“It’s not your fault.” And there she went again, push, pull, push, pull…Ororo sighed.

“Ali and I had a nice time,” she offered. “I love what you’ve done to your house, it’s always so elegant, I don’t know how you pull it off, Miss Martha Stewart!” This time Jean beamed. She’d pushed the right button.

“Oh, I hardly did anything new! So, what’s going on with you and T’Challa?” She was eager to pursue the topic.

“Ack…nothing, thank goodness. Same old story. And there’s no ‘me and T’Challa,’ unless you count his mother making my life miserable and playing with Luke’s head.”

“I thought you were getting along?”

“Heck, no. I found out that the storage facility I was using for my merchandise was bought out by one of his subsidiaries. I’ve been trying like the dickens to get my stock in order since they delivered it weeks too soon! The only consolation I have in all this is that my clientele had the chance to drool at the new season’s goodies enough to ask me when I’m having my first sale.”

“Then no harm done,” Jean shrugged as she helped herself to a Triscuit from the tray.

“It’s my business, and it’s my life. He doesn’t get to have a say anymore. I’m going with a different storage facility and distributor at the end of the month.”

“I still don’t see what the big deal is.”

“The big deal is that he’s my ex. He’s my ex for a reason.” Ororo plucked up a Wheat thin and plowed it through a small bowl of hummus. “Boy drove me crazy when we were married. Even moving half a world away didn’t make much of a difference. I wouldn’t be trying so hard to keep it civil if not for Lucas.”

“Maybe it would have been better if you’d stayed married to him.” Ororo stared at her like she’d just passed gas. “What? I’m just saying, Ororo, that it’s easier being married! I can’t imagine what it’d be like being ‘out there’ again! There’s no good men anymore!”

“You got the last good one,” Ororo admitted. “Even if he’s acting like an ass,” she allowed, even if she was clueless as to how. Jean was smug.

“So what gives? Why did you come with Ali last night?”

“Eh. Scott saw us at the park on our lunch break yesterday.” Jean dropped the second Triscuit back onto the tray.

“Wait. What? When did he see you again?”

“Lunch. Park. Dog. Frisbee. Yesterday.” Ororo spelled it out slowly so she could get caught up. “Ali asked me if I wanted to grab a bite to eat.”

“Seems like you’re getting even more chummy with her lately.”

“She’s a kick in the pants.”

“That’s the consensus,” Jean sniffed. “Still…those tattoos.”

“She’s not the only woman on the planet sporting ink.”

“She just used to be so pretty! And so NORMAL!”

“What’s normal?” Ororo wanted to know.

“Not looking like you work for a biker bar?” Jean offered.

“These days, everyone’s watching shows like ‘American Chopper.’ It’s just not that big a deal anymore, Jean. Lighten up!”

“I don’t want my kids thinking it’s cool. I’d absolutely die if they ever came home with a tattoo.”

“The kids seem like they’re doing pretty well in school this year! They’re taking band still, right?” Once again, Jean brightened. Phew.

“It’s so nice to see them taking music lessons! Kids who learn an instrument are better scholars!” Jean had never played or sung a note in her life. “How’s Luke enjoying soccer?”

“It’s keeping him busy, but I can barely keep him in socks. He keeps tearing them up now that he’s playing goalie.”

“That’s such a rough sport,” Jean tsked, “but at least it’s better than football.”

“I loved soccer,” Ororo mused. Her father had, too. “I taught him how to dribble.”

“This from the woman addicted to Jimmy Choos now, who refuses to learn how to bowl.” Ororo stuck out her tongue.

“It’s not the same. And Logan doesn’t care if I can’t bowl.” So there, she fumed.

“Logan? Please don’t tell me you actually like him, Rory!”

“What’s not to like? I have fun with him. And that’s all I want to do, anyway; he’s nice, he likes my son, and it’s nice to have someone to date.”

“Nice. Right. You can think that now…”

“Why are you making a big deal about Logan, Jean?”

“Well, it’s nothing…” Jean began.

“Okay, then.”

“Well…” Jean hedged.

“What, Jean? What is it?”

“You met his ex-wife, didn’t you? Silver, and her husband Vic? At the potluck?”

“Oh…ohhhhhhh. Yes, I did.”

“Piece of work, isn’t she?”

“She didn’t seem so bad…”

“Bullshit.”

“Okay. Maybe she did. But if he loved her once, how bad could she be?”

“Logan loving someone doesn’t guarantee anything about them, trust me.”

“Jean, you’re making me nervous, here!” Ororo chuckled, even though she did, indeed, feel nervous all of the sudden.

“Believe me, Ororo, I know a lot about Logan.” Ororo felt like someone was running ice cubes down her neck.

“I see.” Ororo leaned forward toward Jean from across the coffee table. “Do you have a history with him? Like, before you got together with Scott?”

“Oh, no,” Jean laughed. “He could only wish!” The wheels in Jean’s head turned more quickly as she came up with the perfect seed of doubt to plant in her friend’s head. “But it’s not ‘history.’ He’s always making passes at me. Regularly.” That made Ororo straighten up, stiff as a poker.

“Wow. That’s just…I never would have guessed. Wow.”

“Oh, gee, Rory…he hasn’t…you know, tried to feed you any lines, has he?”

“Lines?” Ororo was fumbling for words, all the while running their past few encounters through her head. She ticked them off one by one. Their bowling playdate. The car show. Chuck E Cheese, which he somehow made seem fun, thereby doing the impossible. Their comfortable chatter at the potluck, the birthday party, and the assembly. The soothing rumble of his breathing when they’d cuddled – CUDDLED – on her couch while she was sick.

And the kiss. Let’s not forget The Kiss.

She couldn’t reconcile Jean’s accusations with the impressions she had of Logan, and for the moment, she didn’t want to try. So she threw Jean off the scent.

“No. Luke and Laura end up in a lot of the same places, so I see him every now and again. But you know me, Jean. I might as well have a ‘Hands Off’ sign stamped on my forehead!” Jean chuckled.

“We need to do something about that. One of these days, I need to have Warren fix you up with one of his friends! He knows all the right people.”

“He does, huh?” Jean’s admiration of Scott’s colleague hadn’t gone unnoticed. She always seemed to hang on the fringes of any visit he made to the Summers’ house. His name came up in almost every conversation, too, no matter how random.

If Ororo didn’t know better, she’d swear Jean had a crush.

“Just leave it to me,” Jean promised brightly. “Some nice guy who’s the whole package will snap you up yet, Ororo! Especially with me on the job!”

“Oh, goodie,” she sighed wearily as she put away the hummus dip.

Jean’s words plagued her all evening after she left. Ororo occupied herself with a avocado facial and applying a deep conditioner treatment to her hair, mulling the previous night’s events in her head. Why was Jean so hung up on Ali?

Better yet, what the heck WAS up with Scott?


~0~


The night before:


SLAM! “JEAN! HONEY!”

“Mmmmmph.” Her mouth tasted like cotton and she felt like she was hearing his voice through a tunnel. “Have some respect for the dead, why don’t you,” she muttered listlessly. She rolled over and checked the clock. Six-thirty. Where the heck had the time gone?

“Jean? Come on down here, please. Gimme a hand getting the table ready.”

“For what?” she cried, rolling up from bed and shrugging into her terrycloth robe.

“Dinner.”

“I thought you were picking up dinner?”

“I did. And we’re having company.”

“Shit!” she hissed, trotting out into the hallway to make sure she heard him correctly. “What did you say, Scott?”

“Company. ‘Ro’s coming over. She’s bringing Ali. Oh, and Logan’s coming, too.” She reeled back as though she’d been slapped.

“Wait…LOGAN? Why, honey? It’s a school night! He’s not bringing Laura over for a playdate, is he?”

“That’s not the purpose, honey. Come down, please?” His voice was low but insistent, and his eyes held scant sympathy for her as she peered down at him from the head of the stairs. She leaned against the banister reluctantly, tapping her fingers against the gleaming wood.

“I wish you’d given me more notice, Scott. When I asked you to pick me up some Tylenol, did you think it would have been nice to clear it with me first before you invited a houseful of guests?”

“No.” Her jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t think I had to clear it with you. I’m sorry you don’t feel well, Jean, but I brought you some medicine and I picked up dinner, and I even kept Nate and Rachel out of your hair while I was running those errands. I thought that was enough. Sorry I didn’t ‘give you notice.’ And for the record, Logan really did need to come over tonight. I couldn’t clear anything in my schedule this week during regular hours.”

“Every hour of the day is ‘regular hours,’ Scott, and I’m getting sick of it.” They shared a long, stony look, the staircase yawning open between them. He searched her tired green eyes, taking in her slumped posture. Some fleeting flicker of hope inside him died. He didn’t have much left.

“That’s not going to change any time soon, Jean, unless you want me to get a different job. I love what I do. And I thought you enjoyed the lifestyle we have.”

“Scott…”

“Go get dressed, Jean.” He retreated to the kitchen without another word. Dazed, she returned to their suite to take a brief shower.

It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him Warren knows what ‘regular hours’ means. She monopolized every minute away from his desk or that he didn’t spend on the course with Scott playing eighteen holes.

Her eyes looked like they’d met the business end of a baseball bat even after she’d bathed. Her hair was still hanging in damp strings by the time the front doorbell rang.

“Crap! Crap,” she chanted, fumbling for her low-heeled sandals. “Crap. Crap. Crap. Where are they…crap! For the love of Pete…”

“JEAN! Get the door!”

“You get it!”

“I have to get something out of the basement…” His voice trailed off, and she heard his footsteps descending belowstairs.

“Sure you do,” she muttered miserably before she trotted downstairs in her bare feet.

Ding dong, ding dong…

“Just a MINUTE!” She nearly tripped over the kitchen mat on her way to the door, hating the jarring sensation and how it brought her headache roaring back.

Ororo and Ali both wore stunned expressions when she yanked open the door.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ororo chirped. “What’s the matter?” she inquired, her smile fading slightly as she took in her condition. Jean’s first impulse was to scrape her dripping hair away from her face and smile.

“Nothing. Nothing. Come in…er, Ali. Hi. Come on in.” Ali gave her a sympathetic look as she followed Ororo in through the foyer. The perky music teacher looked disgustingly healthy and well-groomed, wafting inside on a cloud of Glow. Jean’s stomach churned at the heady scent. Her eyes raked over her outfit. As usual, Ali looked like she robbed a Hot Topic, this time garbed in a black Hello Kitty tee shirt; even Kitty was all Goth’d out. Snug black boot cut slacks hugged her narrow frame. Jean was surprised, however, to see that she’d taken pains with her makeup for a change. The Bettie Page red lipstick and dark liner was gone, replaced by softer pastels and dark brown mascara. Even her hair looked sane – almost – with the ends flipped under and with her bangs wrapped and pinned into place.

“Didn’t Scott tell you we were coming over?” Ororo hung her own coat on the rack by the door.

“Well, you know Scott,” Jean reasoned.

“Something smells good, what did you fix?” Ali asked.

“Oh. Right. Dinner…” Jean sniffed the air. “I didn’t do it. The Colonel did. KFC.”

“Can’t go wrong with that!” Ali agreed. “Bet you caught that nasty flu that was going around the school, huh, hon?”

Grrrrrr… “I don’t know where I could have picked this up,” Jean replied, through gritted teeth. Thanks for noticing, now I feel sooooooo much better. Bitch…

“Don’t you want to go grab some socks? It’s a little chilly tonight, Jean! Cover your feet!” She peered down at her slender size fives, toes painted a soft shell pink and sighed.

Ding dong!

“Let me get that!” Could the evening get any worse?

“Mrs. Summers! Where’s Rachel?” Laura cried, bouncing up and down like a puppy who needed a walk. Behind her, Logan and Ororo’s son Luke were discussing the comparative benefits of Mortal Kombat Deadly Alliance versus Marvel Nemesis Rise of the Imperfects until Logan turned his attention to the door.

“Eh. Hey, Jeannie.” She disgustedly admitted he looked sexy, which made her current state even more galling.

“I didn’t know you were on your way over here,” she accused calmly.

“Pulled in just as ‘Ro did,” he shrugged, answering her silent question. She was happy that they’d come in separate cars, seeing that Ororo’s was nowhere in sight. So she’d come with Ali.

She was about ready to sock him when she noticed him peering at her reddened nose. She glared at him. He shot her a sheepish smile.

“Don’t let in all the cold air. Laura, Luke, let me hang up your coats. Shoes OFF!” She nagged everyone inside and secured the deadbolt before hurrying upstairs to resume the search for her shoes.

She didn’t care if anyone heard her blow dryer running. “JEAN! Come down so we can eat!” She tuned Scott out long enough to brush on a dab of blush. It still didn’t help.

“You’re SO sleeping on the couch tonight, buddy,” she fumed as she shoved her feet into her favorite green velvet slippers and yanked on a long cardigan.

The kids made short work of the first bucket of extra crispy. Jean raked patterns through a pitifully small helping of mashed potatoes and just picked at a biscuit. The smell of the greasy, empty containers made her sicker, and she was grateful when Scott suggested that they head to the den.

“Need help?” Ororo offered.

“Knock me unconscious,” Jean quipped as she fished out a box of green tea bags.

“Poor baby,” Ali sympathized. “Feeling pretty jacked up, huh?”

Grrrrrr. Feel THIS. Here, have some of my germs… Jean’s face scrunched up and she coughed loudly into her fist. She sounded raspy and ragged like she’d dislodged her lung, and it was about to come flying out at Ali at any minute. “Sure do. Man, I can’t wait to go back to bed!” Ali shrank back from the onslaught of invisible loogies.

“I’ll just get out of your way…” Ali beat feet for the den. Ororo rubbed Jean’s back soothingly.

“Wish you felt better today. You missed a fun lunch.”

“Anything but food,” Jean pleaded as she heated up her cup.

The mood in the sitting room was already charged; Scott’s hopes that it would be easier to discuss Logan’s situation over a relaxed dinner bit the dust. Scott and Jean took up the loveseat; out of long habit, Jean laid her hand on his knee. He tensed, but he didn’t remove it.

“Let’s get down to business. What happened between the two of you in Emma’s office?”

“She called me again after I called you,” Logan grumbled. “Turns out there was a mix-up in the school’s enrollment this summer.”

“Really?” Scott frowned.

“Apparently Laura’s name was ‘accidentally’ move up a few spaces on the waiting list. Emma claims that was the primary reason why she ended up being enrolled as early as this fall.” Scott made a small noise.

“As opposed to what other reason? Didn’t she pass the entrance exams? She would have needed to do well on the personality assessments, the introductory interview with the panel? I know she had great extracurriculars…”

“Ya don’t hafta sing my girl’s praises ta me, Summers, but yeah, that was my first thought when I talked ta Frost.” Technically his ninth or tenth thought after coming up with over a half a dozen ways to kill her painfully. “Ya’d think she’d have noticed a glitch like that the first friggin’ day of school, not a month and a half into the year.”

“When would she have been enrolled if not this semester?”

“Next year. Never mind that it’s too late to transfer her back ta the school in our own district without just as long of a wait. Emma claims that the family who would’ve gotten Laura’s spot’s makin’ a huge stink about it, too.”

“So we need some records,” Scott mused. “What else did she say?”

“Accordin’ ta her folks in bookkeeping, the scholarship check was never posted ta Laura’s account. We’re gonna owe the whole semester’s tuition up front til they find out where it went.” Scott’s face darkened with a scowl.

“You’ll have to call the bank and see when it cleared. Don’t just wait for Emma’s staff to tell you when they posted it. Make them give you a hard copy.”

“That ain’t the only thing I need help with,” Logan reminded him.

“I’ll need to order some records. I need dates and history of when Laura was enrolled and when Emma received all of her files. I don’t need to know what’s in them, just when she got them.” Logan watched him with some relief. Jean was unusually quiet.

“It seems odd that Emma picked now to bring this up. She’s always been such an organized person,” Jean remarked. “This doesn’t seem like her at all.” Jean’s expression was enigmatic as she peered at Logan over the rim of her teacup. “Did you do something to annoy her, Logan? Get on her bad side?” Her tone was faintly teasing. Scott redirected his scowl.

“That’s uncalled for, Jean. Stop it.” There was something unreadable in Scott’s eyes. “That shouldn’t matter anyway, even if there was a miscommunication between you two. A school’s relationship with the parent shouldn’t interfere in the education of the child, especially if the child’s eligible to attend based on the school’s standards.”

“This ain’t a good time ta rearrange my daughter’s life on a whim,” Logan informed him curtly. “I need ya ta win this one, Summers. I hope ya’ll do what ya can. Lemme know what ya need fer a retainer –“

“Pro bono,” Scott barked, waving away any further arguments.

“I can’t let ya do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

Logan looked uncomfortable. “It don’t feel right lettin’ ya absorb the cost an’ time ta help us, Summers.”

“I wouldn’t sit well with me to charge for something like this. Your daughter’s like family to us, Logan. Case closed.” No one laughed at the pun. Jean looked contemplative as she abandoned her warm perch beside her husband on the couch.

“I’m going to make sure the kids are fine,” she announced.

It was a patent lie. She really wanted to see what Ororo and Ali were up to.

She found them in the formal living room, perusing a thick scrapbook. Irritation colored her tone as she asked “What’s going on? What’s that doing out?”

“Oh, Jean! This was actually right there on your bookshelf. I was showing Ali some of the old pictures of you, Scott and the kids. I didn’t think you’d mind. It’s been so many years since Ali saw you guys last, not since high school!” Ali’s smile was arm as she thumbed carefully through the pages.

“You were a beautiful bride, Jean. And the children were precious as babies. You still look great.”

“Go on, you shouldn’t,” Jean murmured. She meant it, but not in the way either of the two women occupying her couch thought.

“Where did you end up going to college?”

“Sarah Lawrence.” She took up a seat on Scott’s favorite recliner and tucked her feet beneath her, sipping her now cold tea.

“That’s a wonderful school. Did you ever do anything with your degree?”

What was this, twenty questions? “I was an interior designer for about five years before Scott and I got married.” Then she added “What did you do with yours?” Ororo made a face and burst into embarrassed laughter.

“Jean! Silly!”

“Just asking,” Jean shrugged. “Sometimes it takes people a while to find their calling and get their acts together. Right, Ali?”

“Sure. More or less.” Ali quietly closed the scrapbook and laid it aside. “Not everyone’s as together as you, I guess.”

“That’s me,” Jean demurred. “I just knew what I wanted from the start. People just don’t try that hard to stay focused on what they want anymore. You always hear about people getting sidetracked or spending too much of their lives just wandering or being scattered.”

“Sounds like my marriage,” Ororo tsked. She felt Ali stiffen beside her, and when she dared to glance at her, the musician’s smile had died a slow death.

“Sometimes it takes a while to find something you really love. It’s worth it when you do.” Before Ali could say anything more, they heard a scuffling of feet and the jingle of an ID tag as Maddie made her way into the living room.

“Maddie! C’mere, girl, whose Mommy’s good girl?” Jean crooned, beckoning to the hound by patting her knee. Maddie’s tail wagged furiously as she darted from one person to the next, snuffling and huffing to make up her mind.

She settled unerringly on the one person who wasn’t that fond of dogs.

“OOF! GAH! Ptooey!” Ali sputtered, fending off the pooch whose front paws were planted on her shoulders as she took an enthusiastic taste of her nose. Nothing topped off a fast food dinner like the aroma of doggie breath.

“C’mon, Maddie, down girl! Be good!” Ororo chided her, giggling as Maddie thumped her with her tail in an effort to get Ali’s attention.

“What’s going on with her? She doesn’t usually smother strangers like that,” Jean murmured vaguely.

“Ohhhhh, Maddie and I have met,” Ali informed her. “Eek! Down, puppy, DOWN! Pretty please?” The dog settled for chasing her tail a moment before she settled herself and promptly laid down right on top of Ali’s Doc Marten boots. She continued to pant and thump her tail.

“Just made herself at home,” Ororo marveled, chuckling as she reached over and scratched Maddie’s ears.

“I don’t remember tossing out a For Rent sign,” Ali winced, still leaning back into the couch to discourage the dog.

“She’s a good dog, really,” Jean explained. “Scott babies her. He’s a bigger sucker for her than he is for Rachel, sometimes.”

“Does she have a toy or something she might like to play with instead of me?”

“Maddie! Here, girl!” Jean called again, and the dog finally relinquished her spot and romped over to Jean, settling herself on her lap like a big, shaggy blanket. It was comforting, having a barrier between herself and the two interlopers who’d seen her looking under the weather. “Ororo, why don’t you go check on the kids?”

“I’ll do it,” Ali said, excusing herself.

“We’ll be heading out soon,” Ororo decided quickly. “Jean, thanks for having us over tonight.” Then it occurred to her, “Where are Logan and Scott?”

“Still in the den. Scott’s supposedly helping Logan with a legal issue he’s having.” Ororo suddenly looked concerned, her blue eyes widening.

“I didn’t know that. He never mentioned anything today as we were coming in. I hope everything’s okay?”

“Oh. You knew Logan. He’s always got something going on,” Jean told her, waving it away like a gnat.

“That doesn’t sound fun at all.” Ororo made a note to herself to talk to him later when she had time to take him aside. “Let me go collect Lucas.” Jean looked relieved.

Down the hall, Logan was just rising from his seat and stretching his legs. “I’ll be in touch with ya, Summers.”

“Don’t be shy about leaving a message if I’m out. Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Emma having a beef with you really shouldn’t make a difference in whether she can disenroll her.” Logan’s senses went on full alert, feeling hackles raised on the back of his neck. Scott’s tone was measured and calm. He’d been like that all night.

“I don’t have a beef with Emma, so that ain’t the problem.”

“I got a different impression from times that I’ve seen you talking to Miss Frost,” Scott informed him quietly. “It’s never been my place to say anything about it.”

“So why is it now, bub?” Logan shoved his hands in his pockets and sized him up. “Whaddya think ya know?”

“Women in Jean’s carpool tend to talk. And I’m the one who pays the cellular bill. There’s been calls from the shop where you work that puzzled me over the past few months, until a few weeks ago.”

“Laura comes over often enough…”

“We both know that isn’t why. Give me some credit.” Logan’s shoulders slumped and he raked a hand through his hair. “You make it hard, Logan. On yourself and on me. I know the game Jean’s been playing, and that makes it hard for me, knowing she thinks I don’t have a clue.” Scott retrieved the last of his soda and took a fortifying gulp. “So when I have you telling me that Emma’s singled out Laura to take umbrage against you, it’s a not so subtle clue that something’s been going on between you two.”

“Don’t expect me ta agree with ya.”

“You don’t have to. I know what I’ve seen, Logan.”

“Suit yerself.”

“Just because you’ve screwed me when you screwed Jean, Logan, that doesn’t mean I’m going to hold it against you in regard to helping Laura. I’d be as bad as Emma. I’m bigger than that.”

“That why ya made a big show of goin’ all ‘pro bono’ when Jeannie was sittin’ there?”

“No. I don’t have anything to prove to her.” Hurt resonated through Scott, so bitter Logan could taste it. A lump formed in his gut as he absorbed it, knowing he was at fault and that he couldn’t take it back. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have anything to prove, pal.”

“What’re ya talkin’ about?”

“Ro. Hurt her and I’ll drop this case like a bad habit. And kick your ass into next week.” This time Logan recoiled and planted his hands on his hips.

“What I do with ‘Ro ain’t up ta you!”

“You don’t fuck with my sister,” Scott shot back on a hiss. Logan was instantly stunned.

“Come again?”

“My sister. ‘Ro and I were both adopted into the same family.” Scott saw something dawning on Logan’s face and drew back. “What?”

“That’s why ya were all buddy-buddy with her? Crap,” Logan winced. “Dunno if that makes me feel any better, but still…crap.”

“You didn’t think…”

“Like hell I didn’t.”

“Doesn’t make any difference. Hurt ‘Ro, ass kicked. That’s all you need to know.”

“Still ain’t any of yer business, Summers, but I’d never hurt her. Ever.”

“Guess I’m surprised you’re interested in her. She’s not married.” Logan bit back a sour reply at the sound of Jean’s slippered feet.

“Ororo’s getting ready to go,” Jean let them know. “Laura’s ready to go, Logan, she’s champing at the bit.”

“Got it.” Jean’s face revealed nothing of whether she overheard anything before she arrived. “Get over that flu, Jeannie. Ya look like ya don’t feel well.” Her fist balled up as though she wanted to slug him, but he sauntered out.

“I’m going to see them out.” Scott followed close on his heels, leaving Jean to sigh in frustration. What a hell of a night…she wanted to crawl back into bed. It didn’t help matters that she wanted to crawl into Warren’s.

Ali already had her coat on and was headed outside to warm up her little car. “Ali?” She turned to face him and offered him an odd, sad little smile.

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much. Thanks for having us.”

“It was nice to see you.”

“Jean didn’t feel well. I didn’t want to stay too long.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Then he studied her more intently. “Is something bothering you?”

“No.”

“You sure?” She hesitated.

“No,” she repeated. He could have sworn he saw her waver, wanting to tell him more. “But I don’t want to talk about it now, Scott. And you have a busy day tomorrow…I don’t want to get in the way tonight.”

“You didn’t.” It was so tempting to want to touch her in some way, but he held himself back. She shivered within the confines of her wool peacoat. Her breath came out in small white puffs in the chilly night air, drawing his attention to her mauve-glossed lips.

“You should go back inside.”

“I want to say goodnight to ‘Ro.”

“Scott! It’s freezing out here,” Ororo clucked as she tugged Luke behind her. Logan was bringing up the rear, prying Laura and Rachel apart so they could leave. The men shared a heavy look between them that went unnoticed.

“There you go,” Ali assured him. “Get warm. Goodnight, Scott.”

“G’night.” She rushed off to start the car. Ororo’s voice was soft at his elbow.

“Thank Scott for a fun evening, Luke.”

“Thank you.” He ambled off after Ali and waved back to Rachel and Laura as they hovered on the porch.

“He’s a good boy,” Scott murmured.

“I know.”

“Gets that from your side.”

“Don’t butter me up, big brother!” Then she wrapped an arm around his waist. “You okay?”

“Sure,” he said absently.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“I’m not the one who got the flu.” He gave her a squeeze and kissed her cheek. “Be good.”

“I always am,” she said innocently.

“And ‘Ro…be careful.” Her brows crumpled for a moment.

“Ooookaaaaay…” He felt Logan’s eyes boring a hole into his back and stepped away. “Bye!”

“Mind if I walk ya ta yer ride?”

“Not at all.” His fingers were delightfully warm as they closed around his.

“Wasn’t expectin’ ya tonight, darlin’.”

“I wasn’t either. Scott invited us at the last minute.”

“Hnh. ‘Kay. Cool. Listen, what’re ya up to this weekend?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” Then her face deflated. “Wait. Luke’s gonna be with his dad. Never mind. I was going to suggest an outing with the kids.”

“What about an outing without the kids?” A happy flush bloomed in her cheeks.

“I’m swamped this week at work, but give me a call.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” He proved his point by threading his fingers through hair and pulling her to him for a kiss that was brief but sweet. Her faze was dazed.

“Okay,” she answered dreamily before she remembered herself. “G’night.”

“’Night.”

He never saw Jean’s eyes on him from the living room window as he walked back to his Escort.


~0~

As though she had telepathy, Silver called him two days later. She always picked whatever moment his life went to crap to contact him. Murphy’s Law was Silver’s Law.

“I got a letter in the mail asking me to schedule a conference with Laura’s school. What’s this all about, Jamie?” The joint his jaw clicked.

“Hello ta you, two, Silver. Yeah, I talked with her headmistress, too. Emma wants ta talk with both of us when ya have time in yer busy schedule.”

“I want to schedule it around Vic’s.”

“He don’t need ta show up.”

“He’s her other parent. Why can’t I bring him?”

“Maybe ‘cuz he ain’t the one takin’ her ta school or the one who made sure she got in,” Logan griped. “They don’t allow pets in school, either, Sil.”

“Bastard. Don’t give me that shit.”

“Leave yer friggin’ lap dog at home!”

“It’s not up to you, Jamie!” she hissed. “What did you do now?”

“Why’s it gotta be anything I did?”

“Because you don’t have the sense God gave a flea,” she said simply. “Her tuition bill should have already been paid.”

“That ain’t the only issue, Sil.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“They’re sayin’ Laura probably shouldn’t have gone ta school this semester. They might disenroll her.” There was a long silence, broken by Sil’s heavy sigh.

“Well, that’s just brilliant. Shit. So now what? They just want us to pull her out?”

“Not yet. I got a lawyer.”

“You can’t afford one.”

“I’ll work it out.”

“You’re wasting your time, Jamie. It’d be easier to just pull her and see if we can get her back into Westchester Prep.”

“Uh-uh. She’s fine where she is. I ain’t gonna let ya just give up because it’s easier fer you!”

“So we’ll just wait for them to make up their minds whether to keep them because it’s better for you, then?”

“It’s better fer Laura, Sil!”

“Sure it is. You live closer to the school. You get good parent points because it’s so convenient, Jamie. Don’t sit there and feed me that line.” He heard her marshaling the troops. “I think Laura should come back to live with me.”

“I don’t friggin’ believe this! That’s bullshit, Sil! We’ve been fine, sharin’ custody up until now!”

“You’ve been fine. It’s not healthy shuttling her back and forth. She has a decent home to live in here with two parents.”

“We’re her two parents, which hasn’t changed just ‘cuz we split up!” He wanted to add “and Laura doesn’t even like Vic ‘cuz he’s a smarmy, smug bastard,” but that wouldn’t win him any battles. “I ain’t gonna lie down on this, Sil!”

“Fine, then. It’s a good thing you have that lawyer, then, Logan.”

“What the fuck are ya sayin’, Sil?” he asked. His voice was dangerously low.

“See you in court.” Once again, she hung up without saying goodbye. Logan clicked the “off” button and threw the handset against the wall.