Disclaimer: Oh, come on, you know this already if you've been keeping up…sigh alright, alright…mutters no, I don't own Scott and Jean…satisfied?

A/N: Sorry this took soo long. I had major writer's block…and got distracted by RPGing…it's a terrible distraction to my writing. I get all caught up in my characters' stories and then forget to write about dear Scotty boy and Jean. Also, college is being a real pain in the arse…lots of stuff to do and time has been tight. But here it is. Thank you all for being so patient.

Life once again settled into a rhythm. Training with Logan in the mornings, extra sessions with Xavier in the evenings. Everything in between was time for herself. Well, not exactly all to herself, she spent a good deal of it with Scott. Being the only other person her age she knew to also be a mutant it seemed the sensible thing to do was hang out with him. If something happened there wouldn't be a nervous explanation as to why the can of soda went flying across the backyard or a private thought was projected into his head. And other than the small disagreement at breakfast there hadn't been any problems, although Scott seemed to be a bit quiet, thoughtful.

"Red, are you even in the same backyard as us," Logan's gruff voice asked.


"Apparently not," Logan responded. "I said we're done. Get some chow, hit the showers, call it a day."

"Oh…yeah…" Jean shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Jean slowly started walking towards the house and stopped when she realized Scott wasn't right beside her. She turned around and saw him talking with Logan, catching tidbits of their conversation Jean realized Scott was asking the man if he'd sit in for Ororo from now on when he practiced driving. Jean knew the woman made him nervous, felt it every time Ororo told Scott he could drive them to the supermarket for groceries. She didn't hear the man's gruff response but judging Scott's expression it must have been an affirmative. Deciding she'd spent enough time eavesdropping Jean headed to the door, just catching the tail end of Scott outlining how many more behind the wheel hours he needed before his road test.

While Scott had the not so far off road test on his mind Jean had her own things to practice. Any spare moment she got was a chance to levitate a scrap of paper or a piece of fuzz; never anything big, although Scott had tried and failed to talk her into levitating a spade the other day(1). Jean shook her head, remembering it all and peered outside to see Scott's cheeks still just a bit red from the sunburn he'd received. Stubborn. That's what he was. Jean glanced at the thermometer before concentrating on the radio dial to turn it on. A bit of static and the radio came to life, replacing silence with a cheerful female voice as music faded. "You're listening to the hits of the oldies, James Taylor "You Got a Friend' and now a look at the weather…" Well, judging by the thermometer and the forecast they were right on their way to having a scorcher.

That afternoon Scott stared out from the air-conditioned house at the pool. July was only a few days away and it seemed summer had begun it's attack a few days ago, reaping vengeance upon Bayville for thinking they would have a few more weeks of 70s. Scott longed to take a dip in the pool, had wanted to for weeks, but was waiting for Jean's parents to send her bathing suit. He could always go ahead without her but had promised he would wait…there would be plenty of time to swim. Although, considering it was halfway through summer Scott was beginning to wonder if Jean really didn't have her swimsuit already and was just making excuses.

The ring of the doorbell made Scott's head turn towards the foyer. "Got it," Jean called, accompanied by the quick sound of her rushing down the stairs. Never the less, Scott walked into the hall. A grin plastered on his face when he saw Jean close the door, package in hand. "Finally came, huh?"

"What," Jean asked.

"Your swim suit; took long enough for them to send it."

"Oh…yeah, hope it's in here," she said, her mind thinking of the green two-piece up in her room. She had lied about not packing a suit the first week of her arrival, a ploy to keep her detached. It was now time to either go with the lie or come up with another: that her parents had forgotten. "I'll meet you down by the pool in 15," Scott said, heading towards the stairs, "Couldn't have picked a batter time to arrive with it as hot as it is."

"Yeah," she agreed, following him upstairs. Alone in her room Jean pulled off the packaging tape. Inside were letters from home and a tinfoil package that could only be baked goods. Jean set the letters on top of the bedspread. She wanted to read them, but not now, not with Scott who would undoubtedly be waiting down for her by the pool.

She still couldn't believe he'd forgone using the pool until her parents sent her swimsuit. Jean snatched the suit out of the drawer and changed into it, allowing her to wonder if Sara had gone swimming this year…and then her mind switched to thoughts of home…to James Blake's party. The Party! When had the party been scheduled again? Jean sighed…there was no way she'd be back home by then…there went her chances of dating the most popular guy in her class. He was so cute too! 'Scott's cute too ya know,' a little voice in her head reminded her. 'Scott is just a friend…friends are allowed to be cute and yet elicit no response from the love brain…they're a bridge to more suitable dating material.' 'Whatever,' the voice responded.

"That's right," she muttered, hurrying down the hall to grab a towel, "Just friends."

Jean could feel the hot air hit like a soft breeze as soon as she stepped outside, reminding her to shut the door soundly behind her to maintain the air conditioned state. As she hopped from one foot to the other on the burning pavement she heard a smug voice call out across the yard, "Forget your sandals?" Scott stood poised on the diving board and Jean frowned before giving him a small telekinetic shove…which turned out enough to make him wobble but not fall in. "Nice try," he responded before cannonballing into the water.

She laughed at the resultant splash, though Jean knew she couldn't do much better, "Pitiful." Jean walked up to the edge of the pool, dipping one foot in, taking it out and putting in the other. Jean had never been the type to just jump in.

"Why don't you show me how it's done then," Scott challenged, swimming over to the side.

"Maybe later," Jean told him, taking hold of the ladder and dipping a leg in.

"Why not now?"

"Because…I don't jump in water…not until I'm already wet."

Scott looked at her and by the way his face screwed up Jean knew he was trying to make sense of her statement. "You jump in the shower, don't you," Scott questioned and then blushed a bit, "How's that any different?"

"The shower's hot water."

"So," Scott shrugged, and then without warning splashed the cool water at Jean, who squealed when the water hit her.

"Scott Summers you are so dead," she yelled before hopping in.

"Oh, yeah?" he laughed, splashing her again.

"Yeah," she shouted back, splashing water at him only to find Scott had ducked under the water. You sneak, Jean thought, before screeching again as she felt something tug at her ankle and pull her under for a moment. Jean came up splashing and spluttering, water dripping from her hair, which was now flat against her head, obscuring her view. Jean turned around, waiting for him to come up for air. Spotting him, Jean swam over, cursing as Scott went under the water a second time. The next time Scott came up for air he had only a moment before hands grasped his shoulders and pushed him under. 'Payback', Jean projected.

Scott bobbed up, swiftly shaking his head to spray water like a wet dog. Jean couldn't help but laugh, "Scott, you look ridiculous!" which prompted another attack from him.

Wet and exhausted Scott and Jean dragged themselves into the house when Ororo called outside that dinner would be ready in one half hour and it would behoove them to come inside and dry off. "This isn't over," Scott quietly joked under his breath as they headed for the stairs.

"No, it's not," Jean agreed, equally quiet, "I can't let you get away with that cheap shot you got in." Scott grinned, a tired laugh escaping his lips…he'd thought pulling Jean back into the pool just as she had almost made it out was a brilliant…caught her completely off-guard. Of course, it had also resulted in his being dunked under water for what must have been the hundredth time. Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating, but he'd been dunked a fair share that afternoon.

That evening, as Jean fell asleep, she couldn't help but mentally mark that day as the best she'd had since coming to the mansion.
(1)Call a Spade A Spade…a one-shot I wrote that seemed to just fit into the general flow…and then I cursed that since I'd posted it already it couldn't be a chapter. So I just alluded to it…if you've read it great, if you haven't that's fine too, nothing major happens in there to affect the flow of time.