|Sweeter Than Sugar
Author: Lavender Gaia PM
Jean and Scott bake a cake together. JOTT fluff.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Humor - Jean Grey & Cyclops/Scott S. - Words: 2,867 - Reviews: 21 - Favs: 14 - Follows: 1 - Published: 06-30-07 - Status: Complete - id: 3626332
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Sweeter Than Sugar
An X-men: Evolution story by Lavender Gaia
Summary: Jean and Scott bake a cake together.
Disclaimer: I do not own X-men: Evolution or any of its characters. They are property of Marvel.
A/N: I was just in the mood for some Jean/Scott fluff. It was written while watching a Law and Order: SVU marathon, so it may be slightly less fluffy than earlier predicted. Hope you like it anyway.
"Italics written in quotations" indicates a telepathic conversation.
Shaking himself out of his reverie, Scott said, "It's not that, Kitty. It's just…I never thought I'd hear the words 'Rogue' and 'surprise party' in the same sentence."
Shrugging a shoulder so that her ponytail bounced behind her head, the brunette told them, "I think she'd like it. Don't you?"
Jean bit her bottom lip, trying to think of the most straightforward way to get her point across. "Maybe the way people like a fork in the eye…"
"Aw, come on! Kurt and I were talking about it and we think she would totally like it," the blue-eyed girl insisted. "She, like, certainly won't expect it. I mean, I don't even know the last time she had a real party. Rogue probably doesn't even know. Everyone deserves a nice birthday party," she reminded them with a sad pout.
The older X-men exchanged a look; Kitty's ability to guilt them might as well be a secondary mutation. "Why are you asking us, anyway?" Scott questioned her, trying to avoid the subject at hand.
A half-sly, half-sheepish smile spread over Kitty's face. "Well, you see… Mr. Logan's, like, still out of town. The Professor, Mr. McCoy and Storm are going into the city for this banquet thing. So…" As she stretched out the syllable, the new teachers braced themselves for the figurative impact. "Well, Professor Xavier said that he was leaving you two in charge and if I wanted to have the party I'd have to clear it with you."
"What do you think?" Jean asked Scott telepathically, raising a red eyebrow at him.
"I'm still not over the last time they threw a party," Scott deadpanned, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think I'm ready for another one. Or if I ever will be."
Smirking, she reminded him, "This time we'll be here at least. And the best part is, if the kids start acting up we're their teachers. We can make them pay."
A look of astonishment passed over Scott's face. "And since Kurt and Kitty wouldn't do anything to ruin this party…"
"We're in the clear," she smiled. "Either they'll be good or we get to have some fun in the upcoming lessons."
"I think we'll be okay, actually," Scott realized, sitting back in his chair and stretching. "They're probably more nervous about Kitty and Rogue than us. Those two can be scary."
Sitting across from them, Kitty cleared her throat, looking annoyed. "Are you guys, like, done yet?"
They exchanged one final look before Scott said, "Okay, Kitty. You can have your party."
She squealed with delight, then got up and hugged them both. "You guys are the best!"
"Just remember," Jean reminded her as she hugged back. "This is a clean party. No alcohol."
"Eww, of course not!" she wrinkled her nose. "That stuff's, like, totally gross."
"And you're handling everything. You can do the shopping, and we can help you set up, but it's up to you," Scott confirmed, trying to look stern.
Kitty waved the concern away. "Oh, totally. I'll do it all. Like, I'm sure Amara will help and she can get Bobby to help and he can get everyone else to help. Kurt's gonna take Rogue out for a late lunch to give us time to set up. I'll just pick up everything that day so I don't have to worry about, like, hiding it or anything. Kinda hard when we share a room. Oh, I may even have time to bake her a cake!"
Jean and Scott froze as Kitty continued with her planning. "Um…you know, Kitty, my mom has this great cake recipe that I've been dying to use again for a while," Jean explained. "How about I make the cake and you can concentrate on the shopping?"
For a moment, the brunette considered it. "That makes sense. That way you can stay here and make sure everything's running okay and I'll have as much time as I need to shop. Oh, and I'll get to drive!"
Scott paled momentarily just imagining Kitty on the road at the same time as his precious convertible. He was just thankful that she'd have to take something larger to hold everything she'd want to buy. "I'll stay here and help Jean and, you know, move furniture and stuff so you can use the dining room." Sighing to himself, he told Jean telepathically, "She can drive as much as she wants as long as I'm not on the road."
As Jean suppressed a giggle, Kitty nodded, "Yeah, okay, thanks, Scott! I'm gonna go make a list and talk to Amara."
The petite girl's footsteps echoed as she ran up the stairs while Jean and Scott looked at each other, wondering what they'd gotten themselves into.
"Whoa!" a voice called behind her. Jean turned to see Scott dodging the bowls as they continued near her.
Smiling apologetically at him, she said, "Sorry. Just trying to get started here. Mind grabbing me the Pam? I need to spray these pans."
The tall man reached up into the cabinet over the stove, tossing her the yellow spray can. "I hate that stuff," he told her, watching as she coated the pans. "It can kill you, you know."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "It can, can it?"
"If you inhale too much of it, it can coat your lungs so oxygen can't get through," he explained.
"Okay, no more Snopes for you," Jean smirked, sticking her tongue out at him. "If I promise to keep the killer baking spray away from you, will you be willing to help me out?"
Leaning on the counter, he nodded after a moment. "Sure. What can I do?"
Pointing to the measuring cup, Jean told him, "You can measure out the milk for me while I separate the eggs."
"Separate them?" he wondered aloud, raising a light brown eyebrow from behind his glasses.
"It's a white cake; no yolks in the batter. It makes it lighter, fluffier and yummier if you ask me," she explained. "Watch." Picking up one of the eggs, she cracked it against the side of one of the mixing bowls, then held it over the smaller one. Carefully, she split the two halves of the shell. Back and forth, she moved the yolk from one shell to the other, the white of the egg spilling over the edge of the shell into the bowl beneath it.
For the moment he watched her, memorized. When all of the egg white was in the bowl, Jean dropped the eggshells and the yolk into the sink, smiling with pride. "Wow," he said. "That's pretty impressive." As he glanced into the stainless steel sink, he remarked, "It's a good thing Ororo's going out of town though. I think she'd freak if she saw what you're doing to her kitchen."
As she broke a new egg, Jean told him, "Alright then. I'll cook, you clean."
Chuckling to himself, Scott said, "I'll go get the trash can." Bringing the bin towards their particular countertop, he ventured, "I'm going to guess that this isn't the first time you've done that."
A nostalgic smile worked its way onto Jean's face. "When we were young, my mom used to bake with Sara and me. Usually around exam time because Daddy would get really stressed. Coming home to some fresh baked cookies, or finding a baggie of homemade brownies in his briefcase made his day. When I do go to college, at least I'll know how to make my professors happy." She dropped the new eggshell into the trashcan. "It was fun. I always insisted on breaking the eggs—and usually got half the shell in at the same time—and Sara did the beaters. And since there were two, we each got one to lick clean after."
"It sounds nice," Scott said softly.
Jean set the eggs down and placed a hand on Scott's forearm. "I'm sorry, Scott. That you and Alex missed out on that."
"It's okay," he assured her, smiling warmly. "I'm doing it here with you now and that's what matters."
"Oh…" Turning back to her bowl, she blushed lightly. "Well, good."
For a moment they worked in silence, measuring amounts and filling the mixing bowl with the ingredients. When almost everything was done, Jean went to the fridge, gathering the sticks of butter needed for the recipe. As she unloaded them into the bowl, Scott set up the hand-mixer.
"You did the eggs, I should get to do the mixing," he smirked, making her laugh.
Nodding in agreement, Jean said, "Okay, fair enough." He started combining the batter, the mixer swirling the ingredients together. Jean's green eyes followed Scott's strong hands as they moved above the bowl. "Don't forget to get the stuff on the sides," she reminded him.
He held back an eye roll. "I know, Jean. I took all the required Home Ec courses too. Granted, I didn't do much better than Kitty, but…" She started laughing as he trailed off, the sound making a pleasant shiver run down his spine. "So, um, are you making icing for this too?"
"Oh, yes, I'm going to magically create it out of thin air," she teased. "No, Kitty's picking up some from the store."
"Gotcha," he nodded, continuing with the task at hand.
As Scott raised the mixer to check on the batter, some of it splattered to the side, hitting Jean's arm and shoulder. "Hey!" she protested.
"Sorry," he laughed, sounding anything but. "That's a nice look for you, though." Glaring at him, she picked up a handful of flour and chucked it at the side of his head.
Scott seemed momentarily stunned as the flour stuck to his face. Turning to see the satisfied smirk on her face, the need for retaliation rose within him. "Oh, that's it, Grey." Holding the mixer with one hand, he scooped up a handful of sugar with the other, preparing to lob it at her.
"Wait!" she insisted, holding her hands up to stop him. "Not over my cake. I won't even be able to blame it on Kitty."
After a minute, he let the sugar run between his fingers back into the bag. "Fine. But this is only a momentary truce."
Once the batter was thoroughly mixed, he stepped back and let Jean pour it into the baking pans. As the oven was already preheated, she simply slipped them in and then set the timer on the microwave. When she turned around, Scott was standing there, hands behind his back. "Everything in?" he asked.
"Yep," she grinned, hands on her hips. "Everything's in."
"Good," he nodded. Then he brought his hands around to the front and dumped a large handful of sugar on the top of her bright red hair. As her jaw dropped in shock, a large grin spread over his face. "I said it was only a momentary truce…"
"You…" she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, "are DEAD, Scott Summers!" Grabbing the mixing bowl, she used her telekinesis to lift out a leftover glob of batter, hurling it across the room and hitting him on his glasses.
He did his best to avoid the continuing shots, grabbing the large bag of flour to use as a shield. Realizing that it was also a weapon, he threw some at her, also catching her in the face. She sputtered, then threw the half-full milk gallon at him, which he only barely dodged.
When the jug hit the wall, cracking and splattering all over the place, it was like reality had smacked them in the face. Slowly, they looked around the room, which was covered in enough baking supplies to make another cake. "Ororo is going to kill us…" is the only thing Jean could manage to say.
"I think that's the understatement of the year," Scott murmured. "I guess I'd like to be buried next to the gazebo…"
"I always thought you'd want to be buried in your car."
"That works too, actually," he nodded. The two looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. For long minutes they laughed so hard that they had to hold on to the counter to remain standing. Any attempt to look at each other just sent them into another fit.
Finally, they calmed down, both chests heaving as they fought for breath. Scott looked over at her, heart squeezing in his chest as he took in her sparkling eyes and wide smile. "Truce?" he offered. "For real this time."
She glanced at him, then removed both of the metal beaters from the mixer. With a smile, Jean held one out to him, "Truce."
Together they settled at the kitchen table, licking the remaining batter from their beaters and glancing around at the mess they had created. "Maybe Kitty should do this next time she tries to bake something," Scott suggested suddenly.
"What?" Jean asked. "Destroying the kitchen?"
"No, doing it with someone," he smiled, chuckling lightly. "It's more fun that way. Plus, then someone can see if you make a mistake and catch you."
Reaching over, she squeezed her friend's hand. "You're right. Thank you for doing this with me."
"No problem," he assured her. "It was my pleasure. Not that I can see anything right now…" he reminded her, wiping some remaining batter off his glasses.
"Close your eyes," she instructed gently. "I'll clean them off for you." He did as she said and she pulled off the ruby quartz glasses, walking over to the sink and first cleaning, then drying them off. She returned to the table, leaning forward and sliding them on Scott's face. "Better?" she asked as he opened his eyes.
Nodding, he said, "Much. Thanks." He laughed gently as he looked at her, her face still close to his.
"What?" she blinked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Scott insisted, smiling at her. "You've just got, you know, flour…"
Her hand flew up to her face, brushing her cheek. "Where?"
Laughing at herself, she said, "I probably look like a mess. I'm going to need a shower before this party."
With a shake of his head, he told her, "Don't worry. It looks cute. Here." He reached over, sweeping the flour of her forehead, cheeks, and nose. When his fingertips brushed over her lips, it sent a tingling sensation through both of their bodies. Scott's hand moved to the back of her neck and Jean let herself be encouraged forward until his lips were on hers.
They kissed for a long while, tasting the flour, sugar and batter off of each other. Jean sucked on his bottom lip, removing all the leftover batter with her tongue. Pulling her closer, he sucked her tongue into his mouth, lavishing it with all the love and attention he could muster. Eventually, the two remembered that they were in the kitchen, a very public place even by Institute standards.
"So…" he panted as they drew apart, running a hand through her soft red locks. "I guess we should start cleaning up. The room and ourselves."
Taking a moment to glance around the filthy room, Jean shrugged a shoulder indifferently. "We can get to it later." Using her telekinesis to close all possible entrances to the kitchen and place heavy pieces of furniture in front of them, she informed Scott, "There are more important things right now."
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Jean pulled Scott in for another kiss.