2014.10.27 - Here We Go Again...

The Office of Scott Summers.

Perhaps the name 'office' is being a bit too generous. Sure, it's a room with a desk, but there's very little in the way of personalization. It almost reminds one more of a very large cubicle than a proper office, at least on first glance.

But as is the case with Scott himself, it takes more than a glance to get the full picture. It's the little touches that show the attention to detail that has been lavished on the place.

The leather chairs at the desk have been generously coated with protective sealant. The wooden furniture has all been carefully polished.

Everything has been packed away, locked inside the large closet with a heavy duty industrial lock. Sure, there are very few people at the School for Gifted Youngsters who couldn't easily find a way past the lock, but it's there anyway.

Over in the corner, Scott pulls the plastic sheeting off of yet another piece of furniture and begins carefully folding it so that the dust doesn't fall out on the floor. The folded sheet is carefully placed on top of the other pieces of plastic sheeting, apparently the majority of the room had been covered up until just a few minutes ago.

The film of dust on the sheeting is pretty fine. His room was already immaculate when he left, and Xavier's doesn't exactly have a dust problem. Perhaps he thought he'd be gone a bit longer.

As he prepares to lift the plastic sheet off of his bed, one of his eyebrows raises behind his trademarked red shades. There, in the middle of the plastic, is an indentation. Has someone been sitting on his bed? A mystery for another time, perhaps. On the pile the plastic sheet goes.

"I knew you were back," comes a voice, spoken directly into Scott's head just before the owner of it comes in, pausing just inside the door so she can knock. It's Jean, the teacher-doctor, her expression vaguely amused. "Did you bring me anything? A postcard? A shirt? One of those silly snowglobes?" There is a bit of forced levity to her but it is dropped as, with how things are going, she's not exactly sure where the two of them stand at the moment.

Another look is given to the room as a whole before she steps in, her head angling to the side. There's some effort put into trying not to read Scott's mind right now, it something she does not allow herself to do to him unless it's a dire emergency, but her own emotions are easy to pick up on, her confusion clear to be seen on her face. "How have you been?"

He'll definitely have to hold off on solving the mystery now. The crime scene's contaminated.

Scott stands so that his profile is facing the door, and doesn't even turn his head at the sound of the oh so familiar voice. But as accustomed as he is to Jean's abilities, he doesn't really need to look at her to know she's probably near. Or she could be on the other side of the planet. Maybe he doesn't really know.

He simply relaxes for a moment, and allows himself to think back. "Jean. I was going to see you as soon as I unpacked. Hoping to surprise you, but it looks like you decided to surprise me." He looks around, sure enough she's in his room. That makes things slightly easier. As he walks toward her, he seems a bit awkward, almost wooden. Just as he gets within normal hugging/kissing range, he freezes up suddenly, and places a hand shyly on the back of his neck, looking at the floor.

"I might have. But then, the last time I tried to give you something it didn't quite work out the way I'd planned."

Jean winces slightly but it is hard to tell why. Could be that she ruined Scott's surprise but, at the same time, could be how he is acting now. Reminds her of how it seems like it's always one step forward and five steps backward for them at times. Takes a moment before she shakes off the pang of guilt and she manages to smile again.

"Should I go and let you find me," she asks, trying to joke with him to get a better feel for how things are between them in a manner that won't result in an invasion of his privacy. "We can even make a game out if it, if you'd like." The smile she tries to keep in place does so save a little fading, it now her turn to act... well, like Scott, really.

"Oh no... I've gotta, you know..." Scott looks around the room quickly, almost as if looking for an excuse to appear out of thin air. Nothing appears out of thing air, so it looks like he's on his own. Placing both hand in his pockets, he gives a semi-apologetic semi-shrug.

"... I've still got to unpack... and then I've got a meeting. Actually, two meetings. Then I've got to write up a report... you know. No rest for the non-wicked."

Right. This is just like how it was in their past. Taking a deep breath, Jean forces the smile to stay put while inside she feels her heart sink. "I'll let you get back to that so you can do what you need to do," she says before turning around, her hands shoved into the pocket of her jeans, her shoulders slouched in a manner that's almost defeated.

"If you'd like, Scott," she adds while looking at him from over her shoulder, "I can meet you in the kitchen after you're done with everything. Could have ice cream and catch up?" She really is not expecting Scott to take her up on the offer but hey. Got to try, right?"

"Oh absolutely. Definitely. Sounds like a great idea." Scott might actually be a bit too quick to agree, his face lights up briefly at the suggestion, and for a moment he's a lanky, nervous teenager again. He seems to be keenly aware that he's lost a few cool points, however, and he quickly tones it back down a bit.

"Yeah, I mean, after I'm done with everything. I'll let you know." His tone goes from a bit too sunny to a bit too icy in the space of a second, one of the many habits he's picked up over the years that seems unlikely to ever change.

He takes a half step back, as if he's in a hurry to return to folding up sheets of plastic. "It'll be fun to catch up, I'll try to hurry." He continues to edge away.

Why is Jean surprised? This isn't something new, after all. Scott's ran hot and cold with her for so long... but no. They'll be alright again. At some point. Right?

Giving Scott his space, Jean gives him a tight grin and a nod, her own feelings and such tucked safely away. "Good. Give me a text whenever you're ready."

Scott is watched for a few seconds longer before she walks out the door, but not before she whispers into his mind, "It is really good to have you back. I... missed you."

It's always a bit odd to hear someone else's voice in your mind, but even more so when it's the voice of someone you think about almost constantly. That's the sort of thing that could easily upset a less disciplined mind. But, perhaps unfortunately, discipline is the character attribute that Scott Summers has chosen to cling to most tightly.

As he goes back to what he was doing before, he doesn't answer Jean, only turning around as if he means to say something when she's already started walking down the hall. Classic Scott, the expression on his face is somewhat pained.

He grabs one of the duffel bags near the door and tosses it on the bed. Carefully unzipping the bag, he begins to unpack. There, on top of every other item in the bag, is a small framed photograph.

The photograph is of a couple of kids cheesing for a selfie. Three of the guys in the picture are sitting really close to the only girl in the picture, leaning in closely and smiling into the camera. Off to the right, a younger Scott Summers is standing behind the group and is nearly out of the frame. His bespectacled face is turned away from the camera, instead staring directly at the back of the red-haired girl's head.

Scott brushes a thumb over the picture, a smile working its way into the corner of his mouth. He places the photo back in its old place on his desk and goes back to unpacking.