Scott Summers

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2007-04-13T01:52:49Z

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Backdated to May 29th / After Tara's Dinner / Lee's Apartment

2006-07-14T07:26:00Z

Title: Feeling Human
Authors: flewtoohigh and greater_scott
Fandom: Xmen-movie verse and Fallen Angel + author fanon on FA as Supergirl
Warnings: M/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Scott Summers/Lee Danvers
Word count: 6081 words
Standard disclaimer: Not mine, not even close. Not making money, just having some fun.

Author’s Notes: This pairing developed during RP at fandomtropolis. Scott is taken from movieverse canon at the end of X2. Lee is taken from Fallen Angel before the move to IDW, and has reunited with her Supergirl-past owing to an unlikely friendship with Tim Drake (Robin).

RPed up to where sex begins to look imminent, then written by technosage, continuing in an RP style of alternating POVs.

Author's Note 2: As much as I would love to say I had a ton to do with this, I didn't. So if you enjoy it, please please please, go tell Allie. ;)

Summary: They'd met in the bar, flirted or at least what passed for flirting with Lee, then they swapped bodies. Of course, Lee being Lee, she'd not passed up the chance for sex in Scott's body, which led to all kinds of awkward when they swapped back. All kinds of awkward led to Lee and Scott having sex, and then Scott, boyscout that he is, inviting Lee to be his dinner date.

This scene follows dinner with Tara Maclay (BTVS), Bobby Frost (Xmen movieverse), Jonathan Crane (Batman Begins), Bruce Wayne (Batman Begins), Cassandra Fraiser (SGA). They've returned to Lee's apartment, for not!cuddling and sex. But Scott's not content with just sex. He wants to make love, which is a problem for Lee. Revelations, hot sex, wicked Lee, and totally-OCD Scott ensue, with a lot of sweetness along the way for the boyscout and the bitch.

Thank Hell. Dinner had been just this side of painful. What with all the casual conversation and pretending to give a fuck about anything beside the occasional touch of Scott's hand on her knee under the table. But now it was over and they could be alone.

And the first thing she did when she'd led him through the door into her apartment - yes, she'd brought him home; no, she wasn't going to think about how weird that was; and, really, it wasn't like he hadn't been here already - was turn and rest her forearms on his shoulders. "Hey." Her voice felt warm, with a touch of spice. Like mulled cider.

"Hey yourself," he said, arms looped around her waist.

Part of her wanted to drag him off to bed now, but a bigger part of her wanted back the hours they'd spent with other people, to sit and talk and...no, not cuddle for chrissakes, but touch and kiss and...not cuddle. He had that effect on her. That purring warmth she'd been feeling all night. Her fingers playing through his hair, she gave him a quiet smile. "Get you anything?"

"Nah. I'm good." He'd enjoyed dinner, but had been looking forward to spending time alone with Lee more.

A small, playful pout curved her lips. "Nothing?"

"Well, maybe not nothing." He grinned, and then kissed her.

Just a kiss of greeting, but desire curled like rising steam. Nothing urgent in it yet, except the need to touch him more. "Definitely not nothing," she said softly against his mouth.

"C'mon." Trailing her fingers down his arm, she took his hand and tugged him off toward the bedroom. They could talk and not cuddle there.

"Ooh, I remember this place," he said. "I woke up here once."

"Play your cards right, boyscout," she teased him, because she could. Bypassing the wall-switch, she turned on the lamp on the nightstand, which gave the room an amber glow - to her eyes anyhow. "You could wake up here again."

"Be more fun this time around, I think," he teased following her.

For an answer, she tossed her jacket on the chair, then dragged him down to the bed. And instead of mauling him, casually unbuttoned his shirt while she spoke. "Having my body wasn't fun?"

"Oh it was definitely fun. It'd just be more fun waking up beside you, I think." He watched her unbuttoning his shirt before he wrapped her up in his arms.

"Don't usually do sleepovers." She should protest being held. But it felt good and right, and gave her a really Damned good excuse to keep her hand running over his chest. "Might make an exception. Since I already know how you wake up."

"Universal condition, I believe."

She grinned up at him. "Could be. Though tomorrow morning, let's pretend it's because of me. 'Kay?"

He backtracked. "That's not to say that you wouldn't, that you haven't been the cause since then."

Well that was...unexpected. Not like she didn't know he wanted her. Just...hearing it like that, when they weren't fucking or even right about to fuck? Different. Kinda nice. The knowledge wrapped around her, made her feel glowy. And for a minute she said nothing, only stroked the bare skin under her fingers, closed her eyes and felt it warm under her cheek.

When she looked up at him again, though she teased, her voice came soft. "Never been a pinup girl before." ~~That she knew of.~~

"Pin up girls are nice and all, but I prefer the real thing."

"'Kay, well..." He meant it as a compliment, but... Damn. Why did it feel like she'd been lying to him? She'd never felt that way before. But he'd been so open with her. About everything. And... Fuck, Liandra, just tell him. "Mmm. Not exactly a real girl."

"So what? An alien? Or a robot?" he laughed.

"Um. Well?" She sat up and put her palm in the middle of his chest. Not really holding him down, though she could, easily enough. "Yes. And yes. And no. It's kinda complicated."

"I'm guessing you're going to explain that, since you brought it up. Whenever you're ready," he said, his voice quiet and calm.

"Yeah. I am. It's just..." Pushing her bangs off her face, she stared down at him and realized she really didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to risk it changing everything. "Look, what I am, who I am, it's all kind of a mess. I don't even know which parts of it are real or still true."

A long sigh, then she leaned over and pulled the cigarettes out of her drawer. "Sorry. Bad habit, but it can't kill me. That's kinda the point. Nothing can. I'm..." Flicking the lid off the lighter, she lit the cigarette, inhaled, then slowly exhaled. The smoke circled her head in an angsty gray and red-flecked halo. "A human-alien-computer-construct-hybrid, Earthborn specially-created Angel of fire and Chaos." She chanced a look at him, and waited to see what he'd say.

"Human-alien-computer-- Angel?" he was to say, shocked at the least. Really right now he was trying to figure how all those things would fit together. "Can I bum one?" He hadn't had a cigarette in a while, but right now it seemed like just the thing.

Lee gave him a wry look. "I ought to say no, since I'm pretty sure it can kill you. But I've never been that kind of a Guardian angel." She tossed the cigarettes down on the bed by Scott's hand along with the lighter. She didn't need it, but focusing her flame had been a gift from C and right now she was with Scott and didn't want to think about C.

"You know how it is when you're a cape. Shit happens, you change. Stuff you thought was true isn't, but you still remember it like it is." She shrugged. "The alien computer-construct melted away long time back. Just have memories. Human, I still have the soul, which makes me unique among Angels. Earthborn, cuz, well, yeah. Born here, not There." The capital T would be evident for anyone who knew or was struggling to know her. "The rest 'specially-created Angel of fire and Chaos' is the part that matters now."

"Guardian angel?" He was processing it all, just slowly.

"'Kay, yeah." She sleeked a hand down his chest. "Don't mean to be ass-backwards about this. I..." Her voice came out softer then, frustration, confusion...nerves. "Don't usually," ever, "tell people most of it," any of it, "so I'm not good at explaining."

He could tell as confused as he was, she was doubly so. "Hey. It's ok. I'm processing. It's just a little slow, ok?" he said, setting his cigarette down and then wrapping his arms around her, holding her closer. "You're a guardian angel, used to be an alien computer-construct. Human. Angel with a soul. Angel. I think I might be able to handle that," he grinned.

She tilted her mouth to his and kissed him - and her mouth was clear of the taste of ash. "It has some advantages." But her expression didn't soften to a smile. Instead her eyes darkened, and in them he might've seen shadows of flame. Because it was so much more complicated than that. "Not just an angel, Scott. I'm a Fallen angel."

"Fallen angel?" That would require a bit more explanation.

Lifting her cigarette to her lips again, she inhaled and watched his face. When she exhaled, the smoke wreathed her head, skewed and flashing white, black and red in the gray. All color, no color, and primordial fire. "Fallen. Not so much one of your happy good guys with the white fluffy wings and harps." A hint of defensiveness crept into her tone. Tim understood. Loz embraced it. C reveled in it. Doyle had felt kinship with it. But Scott...he was one of the good guys, for real. Not just a cape, but like an 'S'. She had no business being with him. At all.

"Ok. How, how did you fall?" It didn't so much matter to him, but it seemed like she wanted him to ask, wanted to defend her choices.

She shrugged, like it didn't matter at all. "Flew too high. Tried to save someone the Boss didn't want saved. Failed, but Fell anyhow. I don't work for the Other Side either. Kind of a free agent," she added, trying to be casual about it. For so many reasons.

"By doing what you thought was best. I can understand that. Who was it?"

Her eyes slid closed against the memory. She shook her head. "Doesn't matter." It did, but not to him. All she had of Kara was memory, and she didn't want to share her with someone who'd never known and couldn't know why she'd had to try. "Someone too perfect for this world."

He held her closer, his cigarette forgotten. "I get that."

"Look, Scott." She stiffened. "I told you when we met. Not-good. Not-nice. Fallen." There could be no mistaking the bitterness in her tone. "My function is Chaos." Except the part about when it wasn't. But debating the finer points of her personal theology could wait.

He had let go, giving her room. But now, he pulled her close, kissing her hard. He didn't care what had happened before. He only cared about her, and tried to let her know that.

At first, she didn't believe him. Didn't believe the kiss was anything more than lust and pity. But it didn't stop, and he didn't stop. And she...didn't push him away.

Finally feeling the need for air, he broke off the kiss with a nip of her lips. "You're important. Not whatever else has happened. Not being an Angel. Not being Fallen. You."

A little breathless, she pushed her bangs off her face to stare at him. "You really are a boyscout. You know that?" Her fingers rose to his lips to stop the protest. "It's a good thing." When she felt like this, it was.

With the others, she'd never had to ask. The things that bound them together were so clear. But with him... it made no sense. "Scott...why?"

He thought for a second. He knew why he felt like he did, but the words to explain it weren't nearly enough. "We're alike. We've both lost people close to us. And, you make me feel, human again."

"I make you feel human again." Shaking her head, she brushed her fingers across his cheek. "I wish I could see your eyes." Soft words, spoken with the sort of broken tenderness only the Fallen knew.

"Nobody's seen my eyes since I was 16. Not even me." He leaned into her touch.

"Killer blues," she said softly, and she knew they'd been beautiful. "Scott, I... You..." So hard to say what she felt. Why she'd gone with him tonight. Why he was here now. Why even though she was bad for him, just bad, she kept saying 'yes' to spending time with him. It was more than him accepting her. "You make me feel like a real girl." The words tumbled out, awkward and shy, and suddenly she found the cigarette between her fingers fascinating.

"Everyone deserves that. Feeling real. Alive." He toyed with the hair that had fallen in front of her face. Pushed it back behind her ear, and turned her face towards him. "Even us."

"I probably don't deserve it. But it's quiet with you." It, the pain, the ache, the anger. She leaned over and crushed out the cigarette in the ashtray. "So I'll take what I can get." That might've sounded bad, like Scott wasn't wonderful and kind and sexy, and she didn't mean it like that at all. She amended. "With you."

He couldn't think of anything to say, and anything he would have said would have been mostly pointless, so he simply kissed her. Slow and sweet, feeling her lips warm, then soften, then finally part for him.

He didn't accept her invitation right away. Instead, he breathed with her, open mouth to open mouth, hands sliding up the perfect curve of her neck to cup her face. Sweeping his thumbs over her cheekbones, he smiled against her lips. "You feel real to me. Beautiful, too."

"Scott--" He stopped her protest with another kiss. Lingering, and sucking at her lower lip. Damn. He was good at that.

"Not allowed to say nice things, remember?" And, apparently, her boyscout had a memory like a steel trap. "So shutting up and kissing you now." Which he did, taking her mouth with his tongue. Finally.

Lee needed kissing. Lots of it. Not to stop her from talking. He liked talking with her. Liked her. But to tell her that this wasn't about him looking for a place to drown his sorrows. Or about anger and grief and pain.

It was about her. And him. And the way her hair tangled like silk cords around his fingers when he reached behind her head to deepen the kiss. Also the damp velvet of her mouth against his thumb when he broke the kiss to breathe.

Scott's kisses weren't like anyone else's kisses. Except maybe Tim's, but even in their most intimate moments, Tim never made her feel like this. Heavy. Her eyelids felt weighted, her limbs languid, her movements slowed like she moved through warm honey and not air. He kissed her like what he wanted was to kiss her. Not like he wanted to fuck her and kissing was a good start.

She liked that. She didn't like that she liked it. Fucking helped. It spent the red, raw rage and warmed the cold, gray ashes. This, this...she didn't even know.

Didn't know except when he breathed her like that, with his lips brushing her jaw, nuzzling against her pulse, stroking her throat with his tongue, it felt all kinds of good. And when he came back to her mouth again, his lips held to hers, clung lingering, in ways that drew sighing sounds from her.

It made it impossible not to let herself be kissed. Impossible not to respond, smoothing her hands up his sides and down his arms. Impossible not to feel, and yet feeling didn't hurt.

His breath caught when her hands skimmed his shoulders and chest. Touching. Touching was good. Lee touching him was very good. And touching her anywhere, everywhere, with her satiny skin? That, was incredible.

He'd almost forgotten. No, he had forgotten. Forced himself to forget what it felt like to have warm skin and thick silky hair under his hands. A wet, willing mouth against his. Now he couldn't get enough of it. Of Lee.

More skin to stroke and kiss, that would be good. She'd already taken off the jacket, suede so soft it melted like butter under his fingers whenever he'd held her. So supple, he almost regretted that it lay on the chair, but that was okay because her skin was even more so.

Undressing Lee should be slow. Layered with kisses and textures and her scent, warm and sweet and spicy all at once. He pressed his lips to the hollow where her collarbones met. Teased at the flesh with his tongue and felt her shiver, heard her make the sexiest and most innocent sound he'd ever heard from her - a tiny, barely audible mew. Smiling, he nipped his way up her throat to her ear, then whispered, "You taste good."

God that felt... he felt... she shouldn't... "Angel, remember?" she managed to gasp.

"No. Not Angel. Lee." Firm, brooking no argument on this point, even as he took her wrist and lifted it to his lips.

Ah. Hell no. Not this again. Not like Ranger. "Scott, no--"

"Yes. You taste like a woman. Like Lee." Insistent again, and it made her pulse racy and edgy.

Pulling from his grip, she reached for the fastenings on his slacks. Let her fingers trail over the swell of his cock under them. So hard already. If she could just get her hands around--

His hands closed over her wrists, pulled them away from his hips. Frustrated, confused, chest aching, she looked up at him, eyes wide. "I want--"

"I want Lee." She looked so young. So...uncertain...with her lips, swollen from his kisses, bowed in a tiny pout. Her voice just this side of petulant. "Not rage-angel. Not sex. Just Lee," he told her, taking her wrists in one hand, and pushing her hair out of her beautiful eyes with the other.

Eyes squeezing shut, she shook her head at him. She didn't understand. Or maybe she did and it terrified her.

When her eyes flashed open again, not-cuddly, not-Jean was back. "You want me? Fine, fuck me. Or let me ride you."

He knew she could rip her hands from his grip without thought, but she didn't. With his thumb, he caressed the inside of one wrist, almost delicate for all her strength. Curved his hand around her cheek again, so soft, even with her eyes flaring power at him. "Is that all you want?" he asked quietly.

Damn him. "You can't 'fix' me. I'm Fallen. That doesn't get soothed away with soft words and tender sex." Defiant, bitter, she banked the power in her eyes and turned her head away. "It just doesn't."

"I don't want to fix you. I want to feel you."

And then she understood. It wasn't about proving anything by 'taming' her or thinking he could change her life if he fucked her sweet enough. He needed this from her, needed to remember it was okay to feel and to touch.

Hell. Hadn't she wanted this for him? Wanted him to stop hurting and breathe? But...Kal. Ariella. Juris. Jude. C.

Loz. It was different with him, rage to rage, passion to passion. Even when they came together out of love it wasn't like this. Like what Scott wanted.

When she turned to look at him, her eyes were wide and soft again. It made his chest ache how much he wanted her. Not sex, her. "Let me make love to you."

She flinched, visibly, and he reached out to her, ran his fingers through her hair. "Lee?"

"It's been a long time."

"For me, too." Eight months, and how long before that when he and Jean had had time to be together like this? Time and inclination. That hurt. But he wasn't with Jean now. Not even not-Jean. Just Lee. "How long?"

"Technically, forever." The smile she gave him seemed wry and sad.

"Technically?"

"The timeline got erased. Multiverses merged." She shrugged. "Technically it never happened."

"Then it should."

"Boyscout." But he could tell it was pro forma. Almost shy, the way she got when he looked at her too long.

"Since I'm in danger of breaking the 'no nice words' rule..." He tilted her face to him and kissed her again.

It did feel good, his mouth on hers. Warm, lingering. Both of his hands buried in her hair. She could do this maybe. Lips parting for him, she murmurred, "'Kay."

The word acted on Scott like magic. Heated his kiss and deepened it. Made his hands bolder, but no less...caring. Her skin ached where he stroked her arms, ached then burned. This time when he lifted her wrist to his lips, she didn't stop him. Instead she swallowed hard against the press of memory and opened her clenched fingers to rest against his face, scruffy with five o'clock shadow, played along the rim of the shades.

Nothing huge, her fingertips on his face, but a step. With it, the tension loosened in his shoulders. He hadn't realized how much it'd mattered to him that she let him love her body this way. To be more than just a convenient dick to get her off. She didn't see it that way, he knew, but he wanted to touch her. Touching Lee, feeling her under his hands and lips, around his cock - it didn't hurt to breathe.

Tasting her was good, too. Her pulse beat rapid arousal against the flat of his tongue, and then his lips, when he closed them over the base of her thumb. It made her warmer, her faint musk spicier, when he dragged wet trails up her thumb, stopping to scrape his teeth against the knuckle.

The whole time, he watched her face and her eyes. Watched her struggle to stay quiet and let him make love to her hand. Since she let him, he took full advantage, licking between her fingers, kissing and nipping until she released a long, shuddery sigh, and lifted her other hand to curl behind his head.

Before she could tilt toward him for the kiss that seemed so Damned important just then, he caught her forearm and drew her other hand back down. At first, it'd made her tight and uncomfortable, all that warm and wet and tickling on her palm and over her fingers. But the sweet-soft suction soothed her. Then inflamed her.

Her eyes went wide as it hit her. For the first time since she'd plunged them into the Hierarchy leader's chest, her hands didn't feel bloodstained and clawed. Just hands again, capable of receiving pleasure - and giving it.

His forehead creased with a small frown. "You okay?"

Lips curving into an intimate smile, she stroked clean fingers - clean - over his brow, rubbed her thumb over the furrow between his eyes. Nodding, more the lowering of her eyelids and a slow tilt of her head, really, she smoothed his hair with her palm. Absorbed the almost-liquid slide of soft strands. Really feeling with her hands the way she hadn't in so Damned long. "Feels good."

"Good."

When she smiled like that, it thawed him in places he hadn't known had chilled. And when he teased between her index and third finger, tongue flickering against the 'v' and her breath hitched, he forgot to hurt.

He also remembered, abruptly, how damned good it felt to have her wrapped around his cock. Patient still, because that he knew he could have with her no matter what else, he rested his hands flat against her hipbones then slid them up under her shirt, caressing her and exposing her at once.

She shivered, an almost imperceptible tremble against his fingers, then sucked in a long breath and exhaled through full, kiss-bruised lips. He wouldn't be a guy if he didn't imagine having those wrapped around him, too, but he wouldn't be Scott if he didn't shove that thought aside in favor of concentrating on the sensation of her warm, unbelievably smooth skin gliding beneath his fingers.

Too slow. Too much feeling. Too much, too much. She opened her mouth to tell him, to ask him to stop, but his expression cut her off before she began. His mouth didn't curl sly or sneering or stubborn or even awkwardly reverent. Rapt. Not enraptured like she was some kind of goddess, but attentive, alive.

She'd never seen him look like that. Relieved. Like something had lifted a burden off his shoulders.

"Scott..." she breathed, when his warm, kind hands curved up and over her breasts.

"Shhh, Lee." Calming, soothing, but not at all dismissive. Almost the exact tone she'd use with Loz if he came to her frantic. But he didn't stop lifting her t-shirt, or pulling the lace of her bra across sensitive nipples with the heels of his hands.

It made her lips quirk. "'Kay." She'd only been sighing in pleasure anyhow. "Think it might be okay if I feel you, too?"

"That could be arranged."

Off went her t-shirt, and after he dropped it to the floor, Scott smoothed his hands up her back and drew her toward him. So warm, and when he buried his face against her neck, her hair smelled of cloves and sandalwood and autumn fruit.

Gentle, the way no one who'd met her would imagine she could be, Lee threaded her fingers through his hair and stroked her cheek against his head. He held perfectly still, not wanting to startle her off, because, god, she took his breath away.

"Scott." When he lifted his head, her fingers closed around the stems of his shades, drawing them forward. "Close your eyes."

Instantly, he tensed. "Lee, no."

"Angel, remember? Worst thing that happens is you open your eyes and I fly a couple hundred feet."

Through the building, which would also be destroyed. He clamped his hands around her wrists. "No."

Lee's smile was not beautiful then. "My body is invulnerable. Pretty sure I can stop the beams from your eyes long enough for you to close them again."

"Not a good idea."

"Please."

Just the one word. Quiet but clear. It wouldn't be a word she said often. That she bent her pride to say it for him... "Just for a minute."

She nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Scott closed his eyes. "All right."

They came off so quickly he almost didn't notice before her lips brushed his eyelid. That pleasure was so intense he shuddered. Blindly, he reached for her head, held it between his hands like she sucked his cock. It felt that good. Actually, it felt amazing.

Lips curving into a smile at his response, Lee set the sunglasses down. With her fingernails, she scraped the skin she knew itched and sometimes felt sore like when a ponytail pulled too tight. While she massaged away the irritation, she kissed each eye, learned the shape even if she couldn't see the color.

He sighed her name and she pulled back. "What?"

"Feels good."

When he smiled, her stomach flipped over. Good thing he couldn't flash those killer blues at her. She'd have been in even more trouble that she was already. "My line."

"Share it with me."

It wasn't exactly a question, but it felt like an invitation. One that turned the stomach flip into a clench, low and tight in her abdomen. "'Yeah."

He held out his hand, wanting his shades, but she ignored him, leaning in to kiss him again. His mouth this time. But she tilted her head, both sealing their mouths together and letting loose curls whisper across his eyes. His strangled moan vibrated against her lips, and she felt it in her toes.

'Kay, yeah. Time to give him back the glasses. Definitely.

Lee put the shades on the way she'd taken them off. Slowly and with tenderness in her fingers. She understood, he knew, that they were both his safety and his prison. When they felt secure, he opened his eyes again.

For a minute, he just let himself look at her. At the shy smile as she reached for him, hooking a finger through his belt loop and tugging. At the wanton mass of curls spilling over her shoulders, and the swell of her surprisingly full breasts over black lace. Then he couldn't not touch anymore, and dragged just the tip of one finger through her cleavage. Circled the left nipple, then the right - her breath caught, hissed, then he looked into her eyes and smiled, before bending down to suck against the lace that tasted like laundry detergent and Lee.

With a strangled moan, Lee arched hard into his mouth. Damn. Boyscout? Not so much. His mouth tugged, hot and wicked, tongue rasping wet fabric against her breasts. The sensitive tips hardened, and each lace-roughened suck sent electric heat jolting through her.

Panic rose and clawed at her throat; pleasure swamped her and fought it. Scott seemed to know. When her hands slipped from his head to his shoulders to push at him, he drew her up, holding her flush against his chest, smoothed his hands down her spine. Lips against her pulse, he whispered, hoarse, "I want you, Lee," and the hunger in his voice quieted her.

Fuck me, then. The words crowded her mind and her tongue, but she forced them back. They wouldn't be right to say. As much as the idea of heat and sweat and pounding sex felt safe and normal, mostly it didn't suit Scott. It'd be gorgeous to see him at that point, feel him at that point, but he couldn't let go like that now. Needed the control and the slow so he could do it at all. Even the first time with him had been gentler and kinder than she ever was with anyone else.

With Ranger, that had pissed her off. Maybe it would with Scott, too. 'Cept she knew why with him. And she cared.

So instead of saying anything, she reached behind her to unhook her bra and let it fall. Locking their gazes together, she unbuttoned her jeans, then leaned in to kiss him softly. "Make love to me, then." The words felt foreign and sent a queer hot thrill through her.

His cock and heart leapt at the passion in her quiet voice. It'd been so long. "Say it again." Raw hoarse need scraped his throat; control unraveled.

Lee's lips quirked in her Mona Lisa smile. It made him want to kiss her until she clung to his shoulders, as breathless as he felt now.

Up. His gaze followed her up off the bed. Her jeans, black panties slid off long, toned legs. Landed in a crumpled heap at the end of the bed, and for once he didn't care. He'd fold them later.

His fingers fumbled with belt, buttons, zipper, slacks, boxers. The bed fell away beneath him. His clothes joined hers. They'd be wrinkled, and he didn't care.

He reached for Lee. She floated into his arms. Pressed against him, so willing. "Lee. Say it again." A demand, a plea; he needed to hear it so much. Needed her so much.

Her fingers moved over his back, pulling his hips to hers and tilting them parallel to the bed. "Want you, Scott." The words whispered over his cheek. Her lips brushed against his ear, fingers threading through his hair. "Make love to me."

Oh. God. "Lee."

Lee knew his need. Shared it. Holding them up so he could have the feel of her stretched full-length against him, she twined her legs with his. His hand skimmed her hips. It slipped between her legs, seeking, and she didn't stop him. Not even when his fingers parter her, then stroked and teased, tugging at slick flesh.

Not easy to let him. But she did. Watched his face as long as she could. Then his fingers sought her clit, strummed it.

Aching, she loosed the whimpered moan she'd been holding back and buried her face in his throat. Good, yes, it felt good. She didn't deserve the liquid pleasure flowing through her. The heat claiming more of her with every stroke.

She didn't deserve it, but she wanted him. Scott. Wanted his affection and his tenderness.

So she let him do it. Let him make love to her. Coax her body to full sweet arousal instead of angry need.

His teeth scraped over her pulse, then two long fingers opened her. He knew exactly which spot to curl them against. How hard to press with his thumb. Her cunt clenched around his fingers. She pushed at his shoulders. Not like this. She couldn't say it, so she put it in her eyes.

"Come on, Lee. I want to feel it."

Aww Hell. "Scott." He smiled, dipped his head to catch her mouth. Her resistance melted. "'Kay."

Scott loved it when she said that. Whether in anger or snark, as a verbal shrug, or as now in quiet acquiescence. Soft and shy.

His cock throbbed, but his heart ached.

Heart won. He wanted this for her. Needed to give her this. Hear her cry out for him. He wanted it for him. The human feel of a woman's desire. Lee's desire. Of her muscles tensed in pleasure. Climaxing around his fingers.

He closed his mouth over hers again. Teased her lips apart with his tongue, and probed her pretty mouth in time with the movements of his hand.

She stiffened. His foot brushed the bed beneath them. That provoked a smile, and he prepared for the inevitable drop without stopping. It was incredible. The feel of her wet and tight around his fingers. The way she rocked into his hand; the way she wanted him.

Sucking heat clamped hard and his knuckles protested. He just pumped hard, smiling against her mouth as a small shudder rippled along her inner walls.

His wrist twisted, drove his fingers deep into her - into Lee - and she broke for him. He kissed her hungrily, drinking every last drop of the pleasure he'd given her. Caught her against his chest as she let go, convulsing around his fingers, crying out into his mouth - a surprised sound. Almost a sob.

For a long time, several minutes, she lay panting and boneless in his arms. He kept waiting for her to push his hand or roll away from him, finished with him now that she'd come.

But it never happened.

Instead, she arched an eyebrow over a soft pout. "Still want you, boyscout."

That was it for him. His heart melted.

Scott's expression when she said it was worth every challenging second of letting him have her that way.

As careful as he'd been when they fell, he withdrew his fingers. Her cunt clenched over the emptiness.

"Condom," he said, voice husky. "Be right back."

She grinned, whapped him gently in the head with the trousers she'd already lifted from the end of the bed.

He laughed, a sudden burst, then kissed her. Hard. Breaking away, he fumbled with the floating pants. Another time, she'd have teased him. Made him chase them around. But she wanted him over her and in her - and it didn't even seem weird to want his weight bearing her down into the mattress.

Finally he fished out the condom. She dropped the pants, directed a small blast at the rest of their clothes and scattered them with a wicked smirk, while he tore open the condom and rolled it on.

Then he was there, braced on his arms looking down into her face, hard cock pushing against slick thighs. She wrapped an arm up and around his head. Tugged it down to her mouth. "Make love to me."

Wicked teasing heat replaced the soft desire from earlier, and he couldn't be inside her fast enough. Leaning down, he hooked a hand around her thigh. Her eyes flashed - blue, he knew, even though he saw a bright white light. Long legs wrapped around his waist, and she canted her legs to take him in.

A sharp hiss of breath pieced the silence when his cockhead nudged her entrance. His, hers? Then it didn't matter anymore.

Sweet, so sweet, the wet warmth of Lee encompassing him. So beautiful. His last coherent thought as he brushed the sweat-damp hair out of her eyes and bent to kiss her again.

Lee needed kissing. He needed to kiss her. Taste her while he took her.

They'd had sex before, the once after the body swap but this was different. She felt different when he thrust into her. Not fighting, reaching, striving.

But welcoming.

He took her with long, deep thrusts. Each one driving her back up. Weird, so weird to be able to concentrate on the sensation of his cock penetrating and withdrawing. Weird to be so aware of his breath against her mouth or throat. His hips rocking between her thighs. The muscles working in his back, and the soft slide of his hair through her fingers. Strange to hear breathy moans instead of keening cries.

Strange, but perfect.

He made love to her. Slow. Tender. Strong. And she liked it. Like the sound of her name on his lips and his on hers when they finally came together.

She wasn't fixed, and he wasn't done grieving. She was still a bitch, and he still a boyscout. But they made it work for them. Again and again until the sun flooded her bedroom. Before they finally collapsed, exhausted, Scott slipped from bed. He gathered their clothes, folded them, and set them on the dresser.

Sleepy-soft, she reached for him and shook her head. "What am I going to do with you, boyscout?"

"Feel human with me."

{OOC: Wow that took a while to finish. Not open of IC interaction.}

Apologies and Goodbyes, Only Not (Backdated to 6/4/06)

2006-06-10T05:54:57Z

Fuck.

She'd skipped goodbye, because he was better off without her anyway. But now that it'd been a week or so since she'd seen him last - kissed him last - she couldn't get him out of her head.

Closure. Just like the letter she'd sent Kal all those years ago. That's what she needed.

Lee crushed out her cigarette, ran a hand through her bangs, and picked up her cell. Before she could change her mind. Again.

Hitting Shades' number on her cell - she'd take it off speed dial after the call; and, no, she wasn't going to think about it; she'd just do it and be done with it - she curled her arms around her knees and leaned back against the wall to wait for him to answer.

His phone rang. "Scott here." He answered, hoping it was her. But not hoping as well, in case it wasn't.

"Hey." Her voice sounded soft, even to her ears. Too soft. Fuck. "I... Scott, I have to talk to you about something."

Something was wrong, he could tell that much from her voice. "What's up?"

She set her chin on her knees. "Nothing. Just... Remember the Guardian angel bit?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"'Kay. Well. Not rhetorical. I have a...Purpose." He'd probably be able to hear the capital 'P'. "Someone I look after. And," not he, L. Nothing to give away who he is. Didn't matter Scott would never hurt Tim, or her. She couldn't take the chance someone would find him if looking for her. "That Purpose left Tropolis. I..." A sigh. Damn. This hurt. "I'm not in Tropolis anymore."

"Where are you?" is the first thing he asks. "When can I see you?" is the second.

The first was easy. "Not far. Little town up the coast about four hours. Whitehaven." The second...not so easy. "I'm...I won't be back, Scott."

"Whitehaven." He thought. "When can I see you?" he repeated. Implied was that he would be the one traveling the four hours up there.

Damn him. "Let it go, Shades. It was fun. But it's over." So why did she want to say 'today', 'now', 'as soon as you can get here'?

"Why? Because you left? Because I'm not around for a convenient fuck?" He was getting pissed.

"No." That...just no. "Because...because in a week or two months I could be in Alaska or China or Zanzibar. I can't..." I can't keep saying goodbye to you.

"Been to Alaska. Never been to China or Zanzibar, but I'm sure Warren could afford to fly me there." He wanted her to get what he was saying without having to say it out loud. It didn't matter where she went, he'd find a way to get there. He's protective of what's his, and while she might not be his, he still feels that urge to protect her.

Her lips curved into a small smile. "And if I go to Mars?"

"Then I'll find a way to get to Mars." He smiled, knowing she was teasing him.

"I..." Damn. Just damn. "Today. Now. As soon as you can get here."Because why not? He might be a boyscout, but apparently he was her boyscout. If he wanted to see her, and she wanted to see him...then yeah.

"Be there in four hours."

"'Kay." And if she sounded a little shy, then maybe she was. She brushed at her bangs. "Stay the night?"

"I can't. Things to do here. But I'll stay as long as I can."

She nodded, setting her chin on her knees again. "Then call me when you get to town." Implied, get the Hell off the phone and onto your bike.

"I will," he said and hung up the phone.

* * *

Hours later, stopping to fill up his gas tank, Scott realized what four hours away meant. What China or Zanzibar meant. When he got home, he headed for the freezer, only to find that he had no ice cream.

After he left, Lee went out to her balcony with a beer and a cigarette. It'd been good to see him. Really good. But it meant things, things she didn't know what to do with about him and her. It meant she'd miss him. Tipping the bottle to her lips, she shrugged off the ache. She'd deal. Her boyscout was worth it.

{OOC: Preplayed with flewtoohigh. No IC interaction. OOC ok.}

Encounter with Lee (Backdated to Sunday 5/21) (NWSish)

2006-05-24T20:12:12Z

Quiet late Sunday afternoon into evening. Way quiet. Translate that as boring. She'd been reading this damned theology text for hours looking for anything that might help Crowley with Kiki and so far? Nothing. Callahan's waitstaff had already gotten amused by her requests for more beer, and one of them had gone so far as to ask how she managed to focus on something so arcane with her head swimming. She failed to point out that the alcohol didn't touch her unless she wanted it to.

Instead she pushed her bangs off her face and peered out at him, imperious. He scampered off like the puppy that he was, and left her to it.

Which left her bored again. Hellish bored.

Walking in, he saw her. Great. Not the person he was expecting to see anytime soon. He walked up to the bar, ordered a beer and sat there. Maybe if she didn't see him. Though that was highly unlikely.

Better to make yourself known, right?

"Lee."

Lee looked up from her book at the sound of a familiar voice. Shades. 'Kay. Well. Not so much with boring now.

The word she was looking for? Awkward. All kinds of it.

Might as well get this over with. She set down the text, and gestured to the spot on the lounge next to her, but didn't move to uncurl her legs.

"Scott."

Might as well sit. It's not like she would bite. "So." Yeah, he had nothing. Well, he did have about half a million questions, but none that would be a good starting point.

He looked at her like he thought she might bite. And, truth, having spent three days in that body, she might. Fuck if he didn't turn her on just by sitting there now. Damn it. It wasn't like she'd fucked him.

She sighed. What did you say to some guy whose body you'd gotten dicked up the ass? "Yeah. Uh. Sorry?"

Sorry. She was sorry. "Yeah." He took a long swallow of his beer. "Anyone I know? Actually, I don't care. I don't want to know. I don't want to run into somebody and that person say, 'Hey didn't we have sex that time?' Can you make sure that doesn't happen?" No, he wasn't bitter.

Lee scowled, eyes flaring. "No, he's probably not someone you know. And, yes, I probably can make sure he doesn't say anything." A smirk, then, "Can't promise he won't get hot for you. Who'd have figured it. You're a damned good lay, apparently."

"Didn't get paid for nothing," he said, then slammed back the rest of his beer. When he finished it, he ordered another round. "That would be what he said."

That set her back. She took a long drink of her beer. Then several more. Finally, she ordered another and a shot. He'd gone to a prostitute. In her body. "Why?" she demanded. It wasn't so much anger. Not like she could catch anything. Mostly curiosity, a little hurt pride that he'd needed to, and maybe, just maybe, a touch of compassion.

"Because I needed to eat. Plus a pretty boy with killer eyes doesn't get by on the streets without something resembling protection." He took a pull of his beer. "SHIT. Did you use any? When you were me? I carry the AIDS virus. Mutation kills it though I still carry it. If you didn't you'll need to tell whoever to get tested." SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

Not such a good day.

'Kay. Not what she'd thought. That explained a lot. It stole her anger at him, and left her only angry for him.

"Pretty boys with killer eyes should take better care of themselves," she said softly, resting a hand on his thigh. "Scott, it's all right. He can't get anything from you or anyone else, the guy I was with. For the record? Neither can I."

"Not killer like this," he said pointing to the sunglasses. "Killer blue eyes, back then. Couldn't fight worth a damn either. Did what I had to do." He finished his third beer, and said, "I'm glad. For you. And him."

"You thought I meant I got a prostitute, didn't you?" he asked after a pause.

"Yeah, I did." She shrugged, slamming back her shot. "Not gonna find judgment here, pretty boy. Could tell you stories that would...well, let's just say I could tell you stories. Never had to do what you did, did worse things instead." Part of her had anyway, the part that was Linda Danvers. "Past's past. Can't change it."

Uncurling her legs, finally, she stretched them across his lap. Why not? She'd been in his body, he'd been in hers, she'd had sex as him, if not yet with him. So. Why the Hell not? "And, anyway, you oughtta be glad for you, too." She didn't quite come out and say she'd fuck him if he wanted to, but it was definitely implied in her tone. Which? Was weird. Since when didn't she just come right out and invite it?

"Why's that?" he asked, hand running up and down her calves. "Because my body got laid?"

That? Should be weird. Really, really weird.

It wasn't. It just felt...nice.

"Cuz, Shades, if you play your cards right you could get laid by my body. Without worrying." But not without protection. Because as history proved, she could get pregnant.

He had to be drunk. There was no way he just heard what he just heard. Playing along anyway, because really you never knew what you heard when you were drunk, "So how should I play my cards?" Damn if this wasn't the weirdest conversation ever. Even compared to when he talked to Hank about masturbating.

"Lay 'em on the table. Works for me." Sipping her beer, she studied him over the rim, eyebrow raised.

He stared at the woman beside him. "What do you want to know? You already know more than most people do."

She gave him the wicked little grin she usually saved for Crowley, but somehow it felt right. "You? Are a boyscout." Crooking a finger at him, she leaned slightly forward, not much, just enough to be clear in the invitation.

He leaned forward, because some signs you just can't miss, "Not a boyscout."

Arching an eyebrow, hard, she shifted until her lips nearly brushed his. "Prove it."

Snaking his hand around to the back of her neck, he pulls her forward, not bothering to be gentle. When he can't breathe, he pulls back. "Better?"

"Good start." And if she was a little breathless, it was only because the kiss had been so long. Nothing to do with the heat in it. Nothing at all. Taking a quick look around and seeing no one watching, she floated up and over to resettle in his lap with her arms around his neck. "Not convinced though."

"Takes more than just one kiss. And preferably not in public when doing such things."

She smirked again, and wrapped herself tighter around him. "Boyscout."

Running his hands down her back, he brushed his lips against hers, pulled her down into his lap and whispered, "Not really."

'Kay, this? More like it. "Y'know," she murmured against his mouth,fingers playing in his hair along the line of his glasses, something she'd discovered felt good while in his body. Damned shades must make him crazy sometimes. "Bet your body's more fun to play with when I'm in mine."

He ran his hands down her ass, pulling her in closer by lifting his legs up. "Bet yours is too."

He'd... in her body...and... she'd didn't even... Damn. Between what he knew about her body and what he was like? This was going to be different. More like C and like Ranger had wanted it, less like Loz and Doyle and the way she usually liked it best. But something about having lived in that body for three days made her fond of it. In a weird way, it was like because it had sheltered her when she'd been cast out a second time - this time from her own body - it felt safe to her. And Scott, for whatever reason, also felt safe. "Wanna find out?"

Yeah, and so what if he made her stomach flip over the way he touched her. That had nothing to do with the way she kissed him now, parting her lips for him and inviting him to take her mouth instead of fighting for control of it. Fingers trailing down his neck, and legs curling to bring her closer to the hard heat of him between her thighs.

This? Was good. Felt good, better than anything had in a long time. His hands caught in her hair, tugging, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss; at the same time pressing her down onto him. He groaned feeling her fingers running down his neck to his back. "God, yes."

Damn. Not bad for a boyscout. Uhhh, God. Make that better than not bad. Upgrade to - God, yes. Well, it hadn't been what she was thinking, but it worked. Eyes darkening over an inviting smile, voice velveted, husky, she teased, "Sure about that not in public thing?"

He stopped. "Yeah. Bad associations." He kissed her slowly, showing that he was still interested, just not in public.

"Ah, yeah." Of course not. Accepting the kiss, and returning it, she did something she almost never did. Slid her hand down his arm to tangle their fingers together. "C'mon. Let's fly." Whether she meant actually fly or just get out of there was largely up to him.

"You fly?" he asked, suddenly thinking of War's large soft white wings. Flying. That? Would be awesome.

She gave him an almost-shy grin. "Yeah."

"Ok, let's go." His grin? Not shy at all.

"'Kay." Tossing some cash down on the table by the lounge, because he'd paid for the beer and pizza and she still owed him, she left their fingers twined together and dragged him out of the bar. Well, not so much dragged as led, but...yeah. Flying.

When they'd got out and into the back alley where no one needed to see them leave the ground, she circled around behind him then wrapped her arms around his waist. Technically, she didn't need to. But there was need, and then there was need. And, right now, she needed to be touching him. "Where to?" Little more than a whisper against his neck.

She'd have asked whether he wanted wings or no wings, but her shirt wasn't backless and eventually she'd need it again. So. No wings. For now.

Touching was good. The feel of her breath on his neck, good too. No wings, but that's ok. They were flying. "Where ever you want to go."

Up and again up, wind curling, purring, snarling like a kitten or its yarn around their legs and in her hair. And part of her wanted to hold him with TK while she dove and twirled and played, but the bigger part of her wanted his warmth against her breasts and along her thighs. Loved the feel of contrasts, heat under her hands as they moved, palms flat, over his torso. Cold along her cheeks from the air rushing past his shoulder.

Eyes closed, she soaked it in, flying a slow loop of the city before other needs grew stronger and she headed toward his place. Because she could, and because she thought he might like it, when they'd come within several city blocks of his apartment complex, she released her physical hold on him with a playful somersault over his side. Not too much showboating, though, as it did require concentration to keep him up there with her. She'd survive a fall from here without a scratch. Scott? She had no way of knowing, and really wasn't interested in finding out.

As she fetched up beneath him, it occurred to her that her wingless flight had gotten much stronger since Bete Noire. When had that happened? Maybe it was a carry-over from the Hard Night ~~and the sex that took months to write~~. Before that she hadn't flown much at all in Tropolis. More rooftop to rooftop powered leaping and the occasional short glide. She shrugged, then grinned and spiraled away from Scott. Embracing her nature had been good for her, even if it had led to more of her getting used by the Plan.

Then they were there. A long, slow kiss of body against body until they were face to face and she could slant her mouth to cover his as their feet set down on his apartment stoop. No words from her. Not yet. She wasn't interested in giving him a chance to let his upstairs brain takeover.

This was interesting. Of course, if she ever planned on making it upstairs, they'd have to disengage sometime. He tried to reach into his pocket for his keys, but couldn't seem to get his hands off her. Pushing back he said, "Lee. Upstairs?"

"Yeah, 'kay." She stepped back, just enough to let him reach for his keys, but one arm stayed twined about his neck, fingers combing through his hair. For once, it wasn't the fucking she was in a hurry for. Just to be touching him again. Not like she'd argue if he wanted to skip straight to the heavy breathing though.

Did he mention that touching was good? Keys out, he followed Lee up to his apartment. He quickly unlocked the door, showing Lee in.

"Nice," she said, but she never took her eyes off him, as she toed off her boots and shrugged her jacket off onto the floor.

"It works," he said tossing the keys onto the small coffee table. Following her example he removes his tennis shoes, and sits on the couch.

Shrugging inwardly, she went to join him on the couch. It wasn't the usual way with her, to go slow and make conversation once sex had been decided on, but Scott was...another mental shrug...different. His reserve made her awkward. So she sat, but not across his lap. Beside him, with her legs curled under her ass and one arm along the back of the couch behind him.

"This, I, I don't do this. Ever. For a long time I flinched whenever someone tried to touch me. I don't do that anymore. But. You realize this is hard for me, right?"

"Yeah." She let her fingers rest on his thigh, while she thought of all the things she might say but wouldn't. "Don't think so much. Makes it harder." Much quieter, almost to herself, "Always does for me."

He turned toward her, very aware that he'd gone from sixty to zero in no time flat. "Not thinking was how I survived. I promised myself I wouldn't't go back to just surviving." A pause. "The only woman I've slept with since I got away from all that died eight months ago. And I'm back to just surviving again."

This? Not something she knew how to do. Except...it was. Because she'd done it. Without meeting his gaze, she nodded. "Lost a husband and a daughter. Gone. Not dead. Just...didn't exist anymore. Timeline collapsed. After that, I just survived. Tropolis has been...good for me. Maybe..." Maybe I can be good for you.

Scott didn't know how to answer that. Instead, he reached over and held her hand in his.

Looking down at their fingers twined together, she laughed, not quite as hoarse and bitter as that sound might have been before Tim, and Loz, and Crowley. "Scott... I'm not that kind of girl."

Running his free hand up her arm and into her hair, he whispers, "I kinda figured that. You don't have to be."

Lee gave him a level look. "Shut up and kiss me before you say something that makes me need to kick your ass."

He grinned. "Yes ma'am," he said, and then proceeded to kiss her like before.

Better. She softened into the kiss, not pushing, not trying to climb out of her skin and into his ~~they'd done that already, thanks much~~, just letting it be what it was. A long, hot, body-to-body conversation about desire. And something suspiciously like affection.

After a while, she broke away from the kiss to run a hand up his chest. "Next time you get to thinking you want to say something nice? Do that instead."

"We might not ever say anything if I did that." He grinned once more, his hands doing a good job of conveying that he really didn't have a problem with that.

Lee arched an eyebrow. "Exactly."

"You're rather convincing," he said with a smile on his lips as he began to kiss her again. Soft, but deep this time.

Scott's kisses were unmistakably Scott. Like the man, sexy and all kinds of sweet, with a hint of real steel underneath. Hands clenched around the fabric of his shirt, she tugged on him, lying back on the couch and drawing him with her. They didn't have to fuck if he didn't want to - weird thought, way weird - but she wanted their bodies pressed together and her hands free to roam.

She was soft in all the right places, and he really couldn't stop touching her. And her legs. Legs that went on and on. Then there was her rather talented tongue. Touching was good.

Scott felt good under her hands and on top of her. Hard, lean, sexy,and the way he touched her felt...almost reverent. Like it'd been...well, it had been a long time for him. It made her blood rush in her ears. A slow, heavy throb. Not the usual racing, not need but desire. "Scott..." So easily she could flip them and be astride him, but... he had to be sure. It had to be his choice, and his doing.

She was letting him choose.

"Yes." He wanted this, wanted to feel her. "Yes."

Hands in his hair, she pulled him down against her mouth so he could feel her smiling. Then came the kiss, slow and deep, this time filled with intent. When they broke from it, her body knew he'd be inside her soon and the flood of wet heat between her thighs made her smile again. "C'mon, Boyscout," she said, grinning. "Unless you want to be righting your furniture after, let's go put that bed of yours to good use."

Bed. Bed was good. "This way," he managed to stammer out.

Not open for IC interaction, but feel free to throw popcorn.

Friday Morning. 5/19. Scott's apartment. (Backdated)

2006-05-20T07:09:48Z

He woke up. The ceiling was red.

"Thank God."

He went to the bathroom, then made coffee.

Then he pulled out the phone book. He was looking for a gym.

Tuesday Morning 5/16

2006-05-16T05:24:27Z

Scott opened his eyes.

The ceiling was white. Not some shade of red, but white. What the fuck? Coffee. Coffee makes everything better. He started to get up, but there was someone else in the bed. "What the hell?" Not only was there someone else in the bed, but the someone else was young and male.

And in color.

"What the fuck is going on?" he said loudly.

{OOC Open to no_pixie_shoes and flewtoohigh.}

Late Saturday Night 5/6

2006-05-07T06:36:54Z

Scott was just about to go to bed when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Scott, it's Professor Xavier. I'm sorry to call so late, but I need you to do something for me."

Scott listened as Xavier outlined what he needed Scott to do. He'd have to leave town for a few days. He should probably wait til late the next night.

{OOC just setting up an IG reason for Scott to not be around for a bit while I'm gone.}

Monday 5/2

2006-05-02T15:16:32Z

After talking to Xavier on Tuesday last, Scott tried to figure out what he'd say when he saw Bobby. He was fairly certain Bobby wasn't happy with him after ~~his reaction to Lee~~ the night at The Triangle.

He knew his tux was suppose to be delivered before the weekend. It was a good thing that he hadn't needed it this weekend.

{OOC: post is for emo_popsicle, OOC is fine.}

Email, Voicemail

2006-04-16T08:22:33Z

Voicemail:

You've reached Scott Summers. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.

Email:

cyclops@xavierinstitue.org

stickupmyarse @ yahoo.com

[OOC working email, IG, please comment below, otherwise, feel free to send one off!]