Unspoken: Unresolved

Rating: PG

Summary: "He would worry about it all tomorrow. Tomorrow was a new day."

Notes: Thanks for making this such a blast to write. And remember, I have no idea what's really going on with Jean and Warren, nor does Scott. I just know that Scott now knows they're cohabiting.

Date: September 28, 2001

Scott pushed open the front door, barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

He'd found Jean, all right. With Warren. <Dear God,> he thought, <what's gotten into all of us?>

They swore nothing was going on, but Jean didn't reach out with her mind to reassure him -- he knew she wouldn't be able to lie to him if she did -- and Warren couldn't meet his eyes. She said it was just temporary, a medium between too many people and too much emotion at the mansion and the nothing of the cabin in the mountains.

Warren was just staying to make sure she was all right. His shields were almost as good as Scott's, so she wouldn't be overwhelmed by his thoughts.

<A likely story,> Scott thought then, and now, hating himself for doubting his best friend's word, doubting the woman he -- felt so connected to. Hating them all for this whole ridiculously overwrought situation that, if he'd seen it in a movie, he'd have disparaged as unrealistic. <People don't act like this,> he thought. <Except when they do.>

Instant trust and instant betrayal.

He so wanted to believe that they were telling the truth. Logic told him he was a fool, but he needed to believe it, even if his brain kept calling him crazy. He thought back again to the argument with Rogue. He always had to pry beneath the surface, but now... now he didn't want to. He wanted to accept the superficial reality Jean and Warren presented, wanted to believe it with his whole heart.

He stood in the shadows of the foyer, trying to decide which he wanted more -- food or a shower -- when he heard it.

Rogue's laughter, and then her voice, sounding more carefree than it had in a while.

He sidled toward the living room, disgusted with himself for sneaking around in his own house, but wanting to get the drop on any developing situation. God knows, going in blind about Jean and Warren had been so very bad.

He peeked in and saw Rogue on the couch. Logan was next to her, close, but not close enough to arouse comment. Well, unless she was your girlfriend. Then you might have cause to complain. Logan's arm was stretched along the back of the sofa, his hand -- his gloved hand, Scott noted sourly -- occasionally brushing Marie's shoulder or hair as he explained some obscure point of hockey.

And wasn't that just the icing on the cake?

Ororo was curled up in the recliner that sat cat-a-corner to the couch, so they weren't even alone, though from the way they acted, they might as well have been.

Scott had been so wrapped up in his own troubles that he'd forgotten the man was sniffing around his finaceé. Ex-fianceé. <Whatever.>

After thinking on it, he was sure that Marie wasn't deliberately trying to hurt him by hanging around with Logan. Of course, he'd also been damned sure Warren would never dick him over by sleeping with the woman he -- felt such a strong connection to. His mind shied away from the word "love." It wasn't love. Not yet.

<They're not sleeping together. They're not.> If he said it often enough, he'd believe it. He had to. Of course, he was no longer certain Jean and Warren were the "they" he was thinking of.

There was a whistle from the television and Rogue said, "Okay, I don't get it. What was wrong with that play?"

"Two-line pass, darlin'. Can't pass the puck from behind your own blue line past the other guy's. It's off-sides."

"Hmm. Is that like icing?"

"Icing is when the puck goes from your side of center over the other guy's goal line. They've been talkin' for years about gettin' rid of icing, 'cause of all the injuries when guys get checked face-first into the boards, but they never change it." His hand stroked her hair, then stopped, as if he'd caught himself doing something he wasn't supposed to. "I could go for a cold one. You want anything, Marie?"

"That sounds good." He made to stand; she put a hand on his knee and said, "I'll go. I have to pee."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can't wait ‘til intermission?"

She laughed again, and Scott could feel his teeth grinding. She used to laugh with him like that, back when they'd first started dating. He made a conscious effort to get himself under control.

"We can't all have iron bladders, sugar."

"Not iron, Marie. Adamantium."

<Good lord, he's making jokes,> Scott thought incredulously as Rogue grinned and left the room.

Ororo leaned forward, apparently more interested in the game than she'd seemed. "That was cross-checking! That was a blatant foul!"

"Penalty," Logan corrected absently. "You know the Rangers ain't gonna get any calls in Philly, 'Ro."

"But -- but--"

"It's only preseason, but you're in mid-season form, eh?" She laughed and opened her mouth to speak when Logan said, "Scooter. You're home. Why don't you come in and have a beer?"

<Son of a bitch.> He'd forgotten the man's enhanced senses. <Sloppy, Scott. Very sloppy.>

He walked into the room. "No, thanks." He didn't think he could sit and watch Logan put the moves on Marie. He had some serious thinking to do about the mess his life had become, and he couldn't make any decisions while the others discussed the non-enforcement of the new rules on holding or the merits of the trap.

He must have been radiating hostility, because the next thing out of Logan's mouth was, "You gonna tell me to stay away from Marie?"

"Depends. What are you planning on doing with her?" His voice was as casual as he could make it, though his whole body was strung tighter than a bow.

Logan shrugged, the nonchalance he wore like a cloak at odds with the intensity in his eyes. "Whatever she wants."

"And if I'm what she wants?" Scott challenged.

Another shrug. "She's confused. She'll get over it."

<Christ, the man has balls,> Scott thought. "You like to play the savior routine, huh? You rescue Jean from the woods and bring her here, and what? What did you get from her for it? And then you save Marie's life, and you think she's just going to fall into bed with you? Man, that's some racket you've got going."

Suddenly, Logan wasn't lounging on the couch anymore.

"I think you better shut up, or your girlfriend ain't the only thing you'll be missing." Logan's voice was low and threatening, the teasing undertone gone.

Scott drew himself up to his full height and took a step toward Logan. They were pretty evenly matched in height, though Logan was at least a hundred pounds heavier, due to the adamantium, and a far better hand-to-hand fighter, even if Scott would never admit that out loud.

"I will get a ruler and you two can just whip ‘em out, so we will be done with this, this macho posturing!" Storm interrupted, her voice cutting through the testosterone haze like lightning.

They both jumped. Scott had forgotten her presence.

Logan had the grace to look sheepish, and Scott knew the look on his own face was probably the same.

"I gotta go," he muttered, walking out the way he'd come in, so as not to run into Rogue. He could feel Logan's angry stare burning his back, but he didn't turn around.

As he headed toward the front door, trying to decide where he could go to just get drunk and forget this miserable day, he felt a hand on his arm.

Whirling, he saw it was Ororo, a sad smile on her beautiful face.

"What is going on?" she asked softly. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

He laughed, and it was nothing like the light musical sound of Rogue's laughter only minutes before. "No. None at all." His shoulders slumped again. "I found Jean. She's --"

"With Warren."

"You knew? Goddammit, ‘Ro! Why didn't you say anything?"

"You didn't ask," she responded with irrefutable logic. "It is not my place to get mixed up in your romantic entanglements."

"Did you ever think maybe you should come down off that pedestal and get involved? Or have you gotten so caught up in being a goddess that you've forgotten what it's like for the rest of us?"

She took a deep breath and he could see the muscles in her jaw tighten. "Let's just forget you said that, Scott."

"There are a lot of things about tonight I'd like to forget," he replied. "Unfortunately, I can't."

She softened then, and said, "Come. I will make you a cup of tea."

She led him to the kitchen and he allowed himself to be enveloped in her care. He would worry about it all tomorrow. Tomorrow was a new day.

~*~

Trying by Minisinoo

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Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.