The Gathering Storm

Posted on Thu Jan 16th, 2025 @ 9:32pm by Jean Grey & Rahne Sinclair & Scott Summers & Aurora Summers & Sean Cassidy

6,101 words; about a 31 minute read

Mission: Episode 6: X-Fernus Agenda
Location: Baxter Building / Muir Island
Timeline: December 3, 1990

The X-Jet sliced through the clouds, its sleek form glinting under the morning sun as it approached Manhattan. Scott Summer scanned the skyline from the pilot's seat and spotted the towering silhouette of the Baxter Building in the distance. His grip on the yoke was steady, his eyes hidden behind ruby quartz glasses.

He keyed the comm. "Baxter Tower, X-Jet requesting clearance for vertical landing on the helipad." The automated response came quickly, granting him approval from his voice recognition. With a slight nod, Scott flipped a switch on the center console, engaging the VTOL (Vertical Takeoff and Landing) thrusters.

As they neared the helipad atop the Baxter Building, Scott decelerated, adjusting the aircraft’s throttle to maintain a steady hover. The jet’s nacelles rotated downward and directed thrust vertically which transition the jet from forward flight to a controlled hover. The familiar hum of the turbofans resonated through the cabin.

He checked his altitude on the HUD (Heads-Up Display), reducing thrust incrementally to make for a gentle descent. His eyes flicked between the horizon and the altitude gauge as the landing pad grew larger beneath him. The skyscrapers around the Baxter Building created slight turbulence, but Scott compensated with precise adjustments to the yaw and pitch of the craft, keeping it level.

At fifty feet above the helipad, he lowered the collective pitch of the rotors, slowing the descent further. The landing gear extended automatically. They locked into place with a reassuring click.

"Final approach," he murmured with a coy smirk as he eased the throttle back, allowing the X-Jet to settle gently onto the platform. The jet’s skids made contact with the concrete. Scott cut the thrust, the whine of the engines gradually fading.

He exhaled, more out of habit than necessity, as he began powering down the systems. "Touchdown complete."

Scott leaned back for a brief moment, glancing at the control panel and then his passenger. His landing had been flawless. "How are we doing so far?"

Aurora gazed across at Scott from where she was sitting, her slim figure had given away to a descent sized pregnancy ‘bump’ now that she was 5 months pregnant, her accelerated pregnancy meant her due date quickly approaching. “All good here.” In all honesty she was feeling pretty nervous about seeing where their son would be staying when he visited with Scott and Jean.

Scott and Aurora were presented with two doors on the Baxter Building’s roof. One was covered in alien security systems and seemed incredibly official, while the other looked more like a standard rooftop door. Ignoring the complicated door, Scott swiped a badge at the entry point of the more mundane door and they traveled down a few flights of fire escape stairs to a hallway lined with apartment doors.

Without hesitation Scott swiped his badge again and opened the door to the corner condo. No one still residing at Xavier’s had been to Scott and Jean’s condo, it was a rather personal and private place, their sanctuary from all the challenges they faced. And while Aurora’s invitation to the space was due to the child growing inside of her it still felt like being a member of an exclusive club.

They entered into a pastel toned living room that was sophisticated and chic in its décor. Blonde wood and quirky southwestern inspired patterns filled the space, both incredibly on trend for 1990’s style and colors. This living space felt bright, clean, and modern; and it was very different from the dark wood paneling and retro furniture that filled the mansion.

Beyond the fashionable furnishings a Christmas tree was already set up by the window. Twinkling and merry, it smelled faintly of pine and filled the room with seasonal cheer that felt joyful and inviting. A few presents were wrapped and under the tree, physical reminders of how much they cared for one another.

“You made good time!” Jean shouted from a hidden location around the corner. Aurora’s previous request for no telepathy had been noted and respected. “I’m almost done in the kitchen.”

Scott led Aurora through a dining room that connected the living room to the kitchen where a fair amount of event planning was being executed. A day planner with deadlines, a ledger with accounting information, and half a dozen bud vases filled with various samples of possible flower arrangements. All careful and considerate preparation for an upcoming wedding. Based on the gleaned information as they walked past, the event would be a grand celebration.

They found Jean in the kitchen dressed in an apron and a white angora sweater that looked fuzzy and soft to the touch. She was leaning over the kitchen counter and slowly piping an elaborate snowflake onto a gingerbread cookie while dirty dishes washed themselves in the sink behind her.

“Let me finish this cookie before we head to the baby’s room,” Jean’s eyes remained fixed on her careful work while she spoke. “How was the flight?”

"Smooth," Scott said, stealing a kiss from Jean's cheek as he leaned over her shoulder. ~Just like...~ He clamped down on their mental flirtation. It was not polite in present company. "How, uh, was your morning?" he asked in attempts to move past the moment.

“Now my line is crooked!” Jean said with a playful giggle as Scott’s kiss was a touch too enthusiastic, her eyes still fixed on her piping work but she grinned now. “My morning was good. I finished wrapping gifts for Beat Street and these cookies are going with them. Now everything is ready to go when Meilin arrives.”

Aurora looked around, seeing what Scott and Jean had compared to the single room she had at the Mansion made her feel inadequate, compared to her Scott and Jean had so much more to give than she had. She would be raising her son in the Mansion until such time as she could afford a home of her own. She tried not to show it but right now she just wanted to get the visit over and done with.

As Jean finished she looked up at Aurora and offered her smile. Her avalanche of emotions was easy to pick up on for the empath. No doubt today would be hard for the teenager and things were tense between her and Scott the last time they had traveled together, so Jean tried to keep things light and amicable for everyone’s sake. “Hello Aurora. How are you feeling?”

Aurora’s attention turned back to Jean as she rested her hand on her stomach. “I’m fine, thank you Jean. This is a nice home you have here.” She offered the best smile she could muster under the circumstances, knowing very well Jean would see straight through any lies.

“That’s good to hear, my sister says that she feels tired all the time when she’s pregnant. And thank you, the apartment is still a work in progress but it’s coming along.” Jean finished decorating her last cookie and the piping bag delivered itself to the pile of self-washing dishes. She washed her own hands and removed her apron before continuing. “Come on, we’ll show you Christopher’s room before we get going. Scott says a storm is headed towards Muir Island so we shouldn’t linger too long.”

"Hard to say whether it will hit the island," Scott said, "but we definitely don't want it getting between us and there." He glanced down the hall and couldn't hold back a tight smile. Being a father was growing on him in ways he'd never anticipated. "We can spare another few minutes, I'm sure."

“His room is next to ours, down the hall,” Jean said before guiding them down a hallway lined with personal photos.

Photos of the First Class in their uniforms, Scott and Jean in graduation cap and gown with Xavier between them, Jean with her older sister both dressed in matching Easter dresses, a teenage Scott sitting in the cockpit of the Blackbird with the biggest smile across his face, Scott and Alex grease covered and working on an engine together, Jean crossing the finish line at the New York Marathon captured mid-celebratory cheer as she ran, the two of them standing arm and arm in formal attire at the base of the mansion staircase. All memories of their life together, moments with their family and friends.

“This one.” Jean pointed at the bedroom that was painted a cheerful pale yellow with wallpaper trim of cute little baby ducks and rabbits. A crib and rocking chair were set by the window along with a bookshelf and changing table. An infant bathtub overflowing with baby supplies that were wrapped in cellophane took up the top of the changing table, a generous present for the soon-to-be parents.

This room felt eerily familiar to Aurora, like she had seen it in a dream.

"What do you think?" Scott asked Aurora.

Aurora’s heart skipped a beat as she saw the room almost as envisioned in her nightmare, that and the whole luxury her son had here made her heart ache. She had nothing like this to offer her son and it hurt to the very core of her being. “It’s...” She paused fighting back tears and anger, her hands balling up into tightly. “It’s lovely, it’s all lovely” With that she turned ready to walk out, she felt like she wanted to burst but that certainly wouldn’t bode well for Scott and Jean’s lovely home. “You said we need to get going, so let’s go.”

"Are we all set?" Scott asked Jean.

“Yeah… let me grab our overnight bag.” There was a touch of uncertainty in Jean’s voice as she agreed with everyone. Aurora’s initial reaction to the baby’s room had been unusual, she had been surprised or almost scared by the cheerful decor before sadness and anger took over. But Jean didn’t want to probe or pry; she could easily assume more than one reason for the medley of emotions. Scott’s eyes met Jean’s and a brief silent conversation occurred between them.

Stepping into the hallway a duffle bag was waiting for Jean, hovering at hand height so she merely had to reach for it as they exited. She was ready to leave immediately, “Alright let’s get going then.”

---

The departure from New York City was a touch easier than the flight from Westchester. Despite the much longer flight time, they were traveling over the ocean which allowed Scott to hit a full burn. It was mildly uncomfortable, but Jean instinctively knew how to telekinetically brace the G-Force of the accelerated speed Scott maintained which allowed for an overall faster and more comfortable trip than before.

"Look hard at the horizon," Scott eventually said. "Muir Island should pop up any moment now."

Storm clouds coming from the north blackened an already darkened sky. The last rays of a setting sun were snuffed out by the rolling fury. "Those clouds don't look good," Scott said. "Think we made it just in time."

“Those storm clouds do look ugly,” Jean said as she examined the almost black and billowy weather front. The ocean waters under the storm were a dark gray in color with angry white waves crashing across them. “It’s a good thing we decided to spend the night because I don’t think we would have been able to fly home in this storm even if we wanted to.”

As the X-Jet landed in Muir’s hanger an all too familiar man with strawberry blonde hair was waiting for them by the doorway.

“Sean!” Jean beamed as she disembarked from the plane. “I had no idea you were going to be here!” She hugged the Irishman in greeting, “It’s so good to see you.”

Sean Cassidy the Banshee let loose his melodic laugh at Jean's boisterous hug. "Oi, Jeanie! Sure, I’ve been crashin’ here more often than not. Me an’ Moira…" He trailed off with a cheeky grin and a waggle of his eyebrows, letting Jean’s telepathy and that womanly intuition fill in the blanks.

"We know Sean!" Jean playfully pushed him in response to the images Sean was sharing, "Connor over-shared way too much about your relationship with Moira, including that hideous brown robe you wear to breakfast. I don't need the mental pictures to go with it!"

As Scott debarked from the jet, he took one look at Sean and started chuckling. It was always a scene when the two of them got together—never a dull moment.

"Ah, would ya look at what t' wind’s blown in!" Sean let go of Jean and clapped his hands around Scott’s back in a firm, manly hug. "Welcome back, ya feckin’ eejit!"

"A pleasure, Sean, as always." Scott kept chuckling as he returned Sean's hug. "Mind helping with some of our bags?"

"Ye mean make meself useful?" Sean grinned wide, the old camaraderie shining through. "No bother, lad. Come on, Moira’s got a grand roast on t' go."

Last to debark was Aurora, and Sean almost missed her. "Oh, Jaysus, lass! Didn’t see ya there! Come on down, we’ll get ya sorted."

Aurora walked down joining Scott and Jean, she’d had a chance for her emotions to cool off but she was still disturbed by what she’d seen. When he was old enough to understand her son wouldn’t want to be with her at the Mansion, when Jean and Scott had such a lovely home laid out for him to go to. “Thank you, Sean.” She offered a polite if brief smile. Right now her emotions were in as big a turmoil as the clouds heading for the island.

Sean helped collect their bags and dropped them off at the corresponding rooms that they would be staying at. Scott and Jean were provided with the bungalow they had stayed in during Jean's recovery at Muir while Aurora was given one of the rooms in the main research facility.

"Ah, just in case the power goes out durin' the storm, the research facility’s got generators t’keep ya and the wee one nice an' comfortable," Sean explained to Aurora as they exited the large formal building and headed down another path.

At the end of the trail was a house that was best described as a cottage, far less formal and modern than the rest of the research facility and its housing for staff. It was obvious that this building had been made special for Moira, a touch of her Scottish home on the craggy ocean island.

“Ack! Ye're an hour earlier than I was expectin' ye!” The Scottish lilt of Moira sounded off from the back of the cottage as they entered. "The roast isn't finished yet, so we’d best have a drink in the meantime, eh?"

"Aye, love, ye're readin' me moind." Sean stole a quick peck off Moira's cheek before headin' to the liquor cabinet. "Tullamore or Glenfiddich?" he called back to the rest of the room.

Scott looked at Jean for a moment, then at Moira. "Maybe just some water for now," he suggested.

"Suit yerself." Sean poured a bit from each bottle into a glass and tinkled some ice cubes as he mixed them together. "Water's in t' tap," he said with a nod toward the kitchen sink.

"Allow me," Scott said, arching his eyebrows at the girls in quiet amusement at Sean's boorish hospitality.

Aurora was getting used to Muir Island now, it felt homely thanks to the way Moira had the rooms organised. “Are there storms here often? I’m guessing you’re used to preparing for what the weather throws at you.”

Sean raised an eyebrow, letting out a loud, mocking laugh as if Aurora had just asked if the sky was blue. "Storms? Ah, Jaysus, lass, what kinda' question is that? We’re off the coast o' Scotland, o’ course there’s storms! Might as well ask if fish swim in t' sea!" He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. "Aye, we’re well used to battlin’ t' weather. If yer not ready for a storm here, well, ye might as well pack up an' head inland."

"Easy, Sean," said Scott, glancing between the two of them. The Irishman was a live wire who needed getting used to.

There was an angry clatter of dishes from the kitchen as Moira’s ire was raised, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Sean! Yer manners are aboot as refined as a wild boar’s! First ye get Scott to run around fetchin’ water fer everybody, then ye start teasin’ the poor lass fer askin’ a simple question!”

As he was in the midst of a swallow, Sean merely puckered his lips at Moira and a kissy face.

Jean couldn’t help but cover her mouth to hide the smile Moira’s outrage had created. Sean and Moira always ran hot with one another thanks to the feisty temper they both possessed. Running hot was normal for them and Jean was pretty sure that ‘yelling’ was their love language.

“You’re both coming in January, right?” Jean attempted to turn the conversation away from Moira’s frustration with Sean. “I haven’t gotten your RSVP yet so I figured I would ask while I’m here.”

“Aye, Jeannie we will be there wit’ bells on.” Moira’s anger evaporated as she turned her attention toward Jean. “That is, if Sean remembers how tae tie a necktie an’ polish his shoes, aye?”

"Now don’tcha worry, I splash me boots every time I hit the jacks," Sean raised his glass and winked. "Besides, it’d be pure rude t’upstage the groom on his big day, wouldn’t ya know?"

Scott couldn't hold back his grin any longer. He knew that his attempts to be polite and reserved would only be interpreted as provocation for Sean to get more crass. "Go ahead and try," Scott said. "Piss boots won't be hard for me to beat."

Sean nearly snorted into his glass, his laughter booming. "Ah, piss boots is where ye draw t' loine, is it?! Summers, ye wouldn’t know stoyle if it bit ya on t' arse!" He leaned forward, his words half-slurred, eyes gleaming with drunken mischief. "I could march through a field o’ cow shite in me piss boots, stinkin’ t’ high heaven, and still be the best lookin’ bastard at yer weddin’!" He slapped Scott on the back, cackling as he took another swig. "Ye just make sure not t' trip over yer long, gangly legs on yer way up t' aisle—don’t need poor Jeanie regrettin' it before ye even get t’ the kiss!"

“Sean, you are incorrigible!” Jean said with a laugh as Scott attempted and failed to match wits with the Irishmen. “Besides everyone knows all eyes are on the bride at a wedding and her eyes are on the groom.” Jean gave Scott a dreamy little smile before she leaned forward and kissed him as an uncontrollable flutter of joy and excitement moved through her.

The moment would have been sweet had it not been for the pregnant Aurora at the other end of the table.

Moria entered the dining room with warm rolls and a dish of butter and noticed the look on Aurora’s face. As if the last trip up here wasn’t awkward enough, this was far worse. The Scottish doctor attempted to turn the conversation away from nuptials. "Aurora, lass, we’ll be doin’ yer examine in the mornin’. The storm should’ve blown over by breakfast, and then the three o’ ye can head home. No pain or concerns since the last time I saw ye?"

Aurora was grateful for Moira’s interruption, the conversation was one she wasn’t enjoying listening to. She looked towards Moira and shook her head. “None Moira, my powers haven’t been as glitchy either thankfully.” She had been expecting to stay at Muir Island. “I was expecting to have to stay here until Christopher is born.”

"May get a wee bit lonesome," Sean said gently, having taken his lashings from Moira. "Only essential staff stay on over t' New Year."

"Aye lass," Moira agreed. "Most o’ the staff gaes hame for the holidays, Sean an’ masel includit. Dinna ye think ye’d rather stay at the school wi’ yer friends an’ come back efter the new year?"

“Ohh I didn’t realise..” Aurora offered a nod of understanding. “In that case I’ll come back after New Year. I’ve gotten used to having company at the Mansion, I don’t want to be alone again.”

“Aye, guid, then it’s settled. Sean and ah had planned tae visit Connor and Charles in New York afore comin’ back tae Muir. We’ll pick ye up then and bring ye back wi’ us efter the New Year.” Moira replied with a nod of the head before she started to head back into the kitchen. “Speak in’ o’ lonely folks o’er the holidays, ah’ve got anither student ah was hopin’ ye could bring back wi’ ye tae Xavier’s. She’s a wee bit o’ a wild child, but Charles and ah reckon bein’ in a school wi’ her peers would be best for her. It’s far too lonely up here for a wee one.”

As if on cue a clatter and crash of furniture occurred in a bedroom upstairs. Moira looked skywards with a furrowing of her brow. “That’d be her comin’ hame for supper. She thinks she;s sneaky but no, she’s a bull in a china shop on a guid day. Sean, be a dear an’ see if ye can get her to join us at the table t’night.”

Moira returned to the kitchen to finish dinner as Sean climbed the stairs to talk with whomever was upstairs, leaving Scott, Jean, and Aurora sitting at the dinner table. There was an uncomfortable pause and Jean took a sip of water and she built up the gumption to ask her next question.

“Aurora, can I listen to him?” Jean seemed nervous and almost scared to ask her. “Telepathically, I mean. I want to hear his thoughts but I wouldn't do it without your permission first.”

Aurora gave Jean a surprised look, resting her hand on her stomach. “We can do that? I hadn’t even realised I could read the thoughts of such a young baby.” She paused giving it a moment’s thought, she couldn’t really refuse without causing offence. “Alright...”

That gave Scott pause, causing him to arch his brow in confusion. He and Aurora together had felt life forming inside her womb together the morning after their first night of indiscretion. It had been what dragged him down the path dictated by the victory of his sense of duty over his better judgment. While he could not imagine what pregnancy must feel like, her words just now felt counterintuitive.

Jean paused for a moment as she felt Scott’s confusion and watched his brow rise up from behind his ruby glasses. It created a different type of tension in the room as the past and the present were compared, Jean always found these moments the most challenging but Scott appeared to move past it quickly.

"Thank you, Aurora," Scott said, knowing what it meant to have another woman reach out and touch their baby.

“Yes, at least I think so…” Jean attempted to push past the awkward moment by answering Aurora’s question. “The cerebral cortex develops at the end of the second trimester and by the third trimester brain activity is noted in a fetus. All areas of the human brain are developed at that point in gestation.” A glimpse into the knowledge that Jean’s higher education had provided her with. “Admittedly I have never tried before because the opportunity hadn’t presented itself until now… so thank you.”

Jean stood up and crouched next to Aurora before she placed a single hand on her rounded stomach. Her telepathic touch was delicate, the degree of finesse required Jean to close her eyes as she focused on reaching out with the same gentle hands that one used when cradling a newborn. And then Jean felt him, the simple but elegant design of early life. There was an innocence to the baby’s mind that was so pure and unburdened. In him, there was the endless possibility to become anyone. He was hope and he was joy, a gift that they were all unworthy of receiving.

Jean couldn’t help but hiccup as her breath caught in her throat and she pulled back her touch and telepathic presence from both Aurora and the child. A swell of emotions overcame Jean as she stood and returned to her chair. By the time she was seated, she was crying. “He’s so beautiful and perfect.” She attempted to wipe away her tears but they fell quickly and stained her cheeks. “You’re so lucky, Aurora.”

Without a word, Scott followed Jean back to her chair and knelt down beside her. His strong arms cradled her weeping face into his chest as he whispered quiet words of solace and comfort. Jean’s time as a prisoner and test subject at Krakoa had left the subject of children a sensitive one. Locks of red hair entwined around his fingers in long, steady strokes. After a moment, Jean looked up from his chest and they shared a loving expression that surpassed word and thought, a manifestation of their psychic bond as one soul with two bodies. Slowly, like two icebergs drifting into a gentle collision, their lips came together in a sweet kiss which held no regard for anybody else in all the world.

"Fer Chrissake get a fookin' room, you two!" Sean ballyhooed.

Aurora wasn’t paying any attention, instead she was exploring her own mental connection with her growing son. As much as she’d explored Christopher's beginnings with Scott she hadn’t tried exploring a telepathic connection with their son until now. She smiled as she felt what Jean had felt, but at the same time it made her feel even more determined not to lose her son to the luxuries Scott and Jean would provide him with.

Moira stuck her head out from the kitchen at the sound of Sean’s voice. She briefly glanced at the X-Men around the table, Aurora was glassy eyed and lost in her own world while Scott and Jean had lost themselves in one another. The dynamics of these people were absolutely exhausting as far as she was concerned.

“Sean, did ye manage to convince her to join us for supper?" Moira asked now that the Irishman had reappeared.

“Nah, he didnae!” Before Sean could reply, a small fiery voice filled with the same thick Scottish accent as Moira’s shouted a reply from the bedroom upstairs. “I dinnae want to be makin’ casual conversation wi’ yer daft friends, I’d rather scoop ma eyes oot wit’ a spoon!” An over the top slam of the bedroom door then occurred, adding a punctuated ending to the remarks.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” Jean offered the now frowning Moira.

"Nay, lass, she’s prone tae run when she gets scared or uncomfortable.” Moira shook her head as she spoke. “Her da was a mean drunk, and that flight response saved her frae a hidin’ or two. It’s best tae leave her be, especially wi' the storm rollin’ in. I’d rather ken she’s safe inside. We can leave a plate for her outside the door and try again in the morn. But ye can see why a wee bit o’ time wi' Charles would do her good—poor lassie’s no’ wicked, she’s just had a rough go o’ things."

~Charming~ Scott thought. "If you're sure, Moira," he said aloud. "If she's a runner, then Muir being an island has a certain boundary to it. New York is a much bigger place for someone who can't sit still."

“Xavier’s school has worked wonders on that strappin’ lad, Connor," Sean said with a chuckle. "Sometimes a wee bird’s gotta fall before they can fly, aye?"

"You'd know all about falling before flying, too," Scott cut in, his dry wit catching Sean off guard.

"Sure! Yer a gas man, Scott, aren’t ye?" Sean fired back, a grin spreading across his face. Then he turned toward the kitchen, calling, "Moira, darlin', are ye hearin' this gobshite bringing jokes to t' table?!"

“Serves ye right, ye bloody Irishman. "A bit o' back and forth is guid for ye, otherwise yer ego would fill the room." Moira said with a devilish grin as she brought out a roast, potatoes, and peas for the table.

Moira glanced over at Aurora before she sat down. “Do ye nee’ anything else, lass?”

Aurora snapped out of her exploration of her connection with her son and looked towards Moira. "Oh err... No, thank you Moira." She smiled warmly. For now Aurora had found the peace she was looking for, a connection she would give anything for.

"Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it; But we hae meat, and we can eat, Sae let the Lord be thankit.” Moira raised her glass as she offered the cheeky Scottish blessing for a meal.

“Thank you Moira, it’s kind of you to feed us,” Jean replied before serving Scott and then herself “It’s a long flight and a home cooked meal is better than the Institute's cafeteria food.”

“Aye, Beatrice does whit she can, but tinned food’s easier than fresh, especially when the weather’s bad.” Moira nodded her head in agreement as she cut her roast. "These winter storms muck up everythin', includin' the boats an' planes that bring our supplies tae the island. We’ll maist likely lose power the nicht, so make sure tae tak' a lantern wi' ye when ye leave."

Jean nodded her head in agreement while she ate, the bungalow they had stayed in the last time they were here was still unoccupied and it had once again been offered to them since the Institute's accommodations were single beds.

"The Institute has backup generators, it’s part hospital in addition tae bein' a research centre, so the security an' comfort o' the folk inside is prioritized.” Moira said to Aurora before she began eating her own dinner. “Ah figured keepin' ye warm an' cozy in the main buildin' was best once the worst o' the storm arrives. Plus, ye’ll have telly in the common area or books tae read if ye’re bored."

With their accommodations settled, the group continued with their meal. It was only after Sean’s second drink that he really began to goad Scott with more teasing and banter.

"We all know what ye lot are gettin' up to when t' loights go out," Sean slurred, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Poor Newton's still tryin' ta pry his eyes back inna' his skull after t' little peep show ye near gave him in t' lap pool. Nearly had t' poor lad chokin' on his own tongue, so ye did!" He gave a hearty chuckle, his words tumbling over one another like a good drink spilling over the edge of a glass.

"Well, somebody has to show the likes of you how it's done." Scott's tone was dry and nonchalant as if he was changing the subject rather than giving as good as he got.

"Oh, is that so, Summers?" Sean grinned wide, swayin’ just a bit as he leaned in with a smug look. "Ah, well, ye may want tae take a few notes, lad. Moira an' I? Let’s just say we fixin' to manage three, maybe four rounds before t' noight's out—on a quiet night, mind ye, prolly more if'n we lose power." He gave a wicked cackle. "There's a reason I don’t need tae shoot lasers outta me eyes, if ye catch me drift."

Scott opened his mouth to reply and Jean immediately interrupted him before he could speak. “Do not share that private information, thank you very much.” There was a long silent pause as Jean gave Scott a side eye from her seat next to him at the table. Whatever conversation they had created a victorious smirk on Jean’s face as Scott desperately tried not to laugh. Jean looked down at their clean plates before she finally spoke again. “Thank you for dinner, Moira, it was delicious. I think before this conversation continues and Sean has his nightcap we should get going.”

She placed her cloth napkin on the table and stood, Scott following her lead. “We’ll meet all of you tomorrow morning for the exam.” Jean picked up one of the lanterns by the front door as they departed. “Thank you once more and have a good night.”

“Oy Sean, ye hav’ all de manners o’ a swine.” Moira swatted his arm before her attention turned back to Aurora. “Would ye like some shortbread for dessert, or are ye ready for bed too?”

“Actually...” Aurora stifled a yawn. “I’d love some shortbread, but could I take it to my room with me please? As much as dinner was lovely, I am pretty tired.”

"Aye, lass. It’s been a lang day for aw o’ us." Moira got up from the table and returned with a tin and a thermos in her hands. "There’s strawberries an’ tea in the thermos."

They stood and collected their things before Moira escorted Aurora back towards the Research Facility. It's tall, modern structure in stark contrast to the simple cottage. The weather had continued to worsen as they had eaten dinner and strong winds and cold rain affronted them as they walked, if this was the start of the storm it was obvious why travel would be near impossible once it really began.

"We’ve got an advanced security system at the research centre." Moira said as she swiped a badge at the side door that unlocked it. "Locks on every door that need clearance tae use an' cameras inside an' ootside the buildin’."

They entered the building to a quite, dimly lit hallway, it appeared that everyone else had decided to tuck in early thanks to the incoming storm. Moira gave Aurora a brief tour of the space she was allowed access to, a hospital room with its own bathroom and reading chair, followed by a rec room around the corner. The rec room had a large television with VHS tapes to watch as well as a library of universally received books along with a few discarded text books on mutations. Aurora would probably be staying here while waiting for the baby to arrive in January, the accommodations seemed comfortable enough.

Moira returned to the doorway of her room before she continued. "Agnes, the night nurse, is on the ither end o’ the hospital wing, but she’ll likely be sleepin' in her cot when she’s nae needed. There are a few aquatic patients in the water tanks on that side o’ the ward, so ye won’t be seein' them wanderin’ the halls. But then again, I suppose ye could just reach oot tae any o’ us wi’ yer telepathy if ye need somethin’. Any questions?"

Aurora shook her head as she finished gazing around. “None at all, Moira, thank you for all of this, I appreciate you looking after me.”

"Aye, lass, we're happy tae watch o'er ye. We'll tak' a look at that bonnie bairn in the mornin'," Moira said with a smile before she departed, leaving Aurora to enjoy the comforts of the Research Center for the night.

“Goodnight, Moira.” Looking around the room Aurora was glad for the comforts it gave her, especially with the storm starting to rage outside. She was also glad that she didn’t have to listen to Scott and Jean talking about their wedding plans any longer. Picking up her bag she placed it on the sofa ready to sort out her nightwear, right now she needed a good night’s sleep.

 

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