The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, you get extra sparklies in your muse kibble! :) InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink make me all glittery with happy for archiving. Readers/Reviewers: The Kitties go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah... The Killer Kitties (tm) send their regards. The platypi, however, just gave me the finger (who knew they could?) so I don't think they're feeling very cordial.

Tension was palpable at the Institute during dinner. The scrape and clink of silverware on china (Storm's insistence that they use "proper" utensils and dinnerware was a sore point with the eat-and-run crowd) rang through the air like shots, making Kurt cringe with each instance. No one spoke but he noted the glares piercing intended targets withreasreasing frequency as the meal wore on. Scott happened to glance Kurt's way and snapped, "What?"
"Nothing, man...Just wondering if I could reach the rolls without asking for them." He tried a smile but Scott snarled at him soundlessly and shoved the breadbasket across the table, sending several rolls spilling out.
"Manners, Scott," Storm intoned. She had not missed the tension-the most blind, deaf, mute and inattentive person in the Universe could not miss the tension-and she was on the verge of sending them all to their rooms without dessert, a la _The Brady Bunch. _ "Would someone like to tell me what's going on?"
Kitty picked at her salad and glanced quickly to Kurt. They had not had a chance to be alone since he came home from school and she was dying to find out what happened during lunch. _Looks like all Hell broke loose... _ Jean's face was uncharacteristically red, as if she had been crying, and Scott never snarled. _Well, not at Kurt and not before today. _ "Um, so what costumes are you guys wearing to the dance Friday night? May as well live vicariously through you, huh?" she said with a nervous laugh, attempting to ease the tension.
"Well," Jean said a little louder than necessary, cutting her chicken breast with studied calm,"I was going to dress as a princess and Scott is going as a giant crap-weasel1."
Scott's fork made a terrific clatas has he threw it down on his plate, making Storm wince as it chipped part of the Royal Doulton pattern. "Hey! I'm not the one _cheating _!"
"I'm not cheating! I was _going _ to stand him up until you started being a Neanderthal about it!" They were both on their feet, leaning towards each other across the table. The rest of the mutants were watching it like a tennis match, heads snapping first towards Scott, then towards Jean as the argument raged. Even Storm was verging on the enthralled. "You didn't even give me a chance to explain!"
"Ein win what?" Kitty asked, trying to figure out just what happened at lunch.
"Tell you later, Katzchen."
"No, you won't," Scott snapped. "I'll tell her now...Hell, I'll take out an ad in the paper. Jean agreed to go to that damned Valentine's dance with Duncan."
There was a collective intake of breath from the few students who had missed the lunch debacle as Jean brandished her butter knife at him, using it as a pointer. "You didn't let me _finish _! I agreed to go with him so that he would tell me what his deal is, why he's all over Kitty and why he seems so interested in Kurt's relationship with Amanda! I wasn't going to actually go with him!"
"So you say! If I hadn't found out at lunch, you would've waltzed out of here Friday night and ended up in the backseat of his El Camino."
"First off," Jean said, rounding the table and making Jamie cringe-he was far too close to Scott for his own lg atg at this point-"you stopped listening before I could finish the entire story. Second, the El Camino doesn't _have _ a back seat!"
There was a collective hiss and wince as Jean's words sank in. "How would you know?" Scott said harshly. "I can't look at you right now!" He threw his napkin down and stormed from the room, ignoring Storm's demand that he clear his place.
Jean pressed her fingers to her temples and breathed deeply for a moment, aware of all the eyes in the room fixed on her, boring into her. "Storm, may I be excused?"
"You have kitchen duty tonight with Kitty and Amara," the older woman said, striving to maintain a calm exterior.
"I'll be back in a little bit. I just need to...to..."
"Hit something?" Lance offered around a mouthful of chicken. _This shit is way more interesting than listening to Blob belch the alphabet... _
Jean looked up sharply, then her features softened. "Yes. Hit something. I'll be in the Danger Room until dinner is over."
Storm nodded reluctantly, aware that the young woman needed to work out some issues just then. "Be back at seven." Jean smiled tightly and left, her anger seeping out to touch those gathered around the table. "Now, if the disturbances for the evening are quite over, I suggest you all finish your dinner and complete whatever schoolwork you have left. I do not want to hear any raised voices or shirking of responsibility. Am I clear?" Her eyes were glazing white, making those closest to her distinctly nervous. There were several murmured "Yes, ma'am" and "Yes, Storm"s and one "Yo," before she returned her attention to her salad, giving them all one last warning glare.
After several minutes of silence, Todd scraped his chair back and cleared his throat. "Um, I'm done... Can I be excused?"
"May...may you be excused," Storm corrected.
"I dunno...may I?"
"Go. Now." She had a rather entertaining visual of zapping him with lightening but promised herself it would not be worth it because Rogue would be inconsolable. "In fact," Storm rose to her feet and took in the remaining students, all looking rather uncomfortable and, for the most part, done. "You may all be excused. Kitty, Amara, be back at seven for clean up duty. The rest of you...I don't want to hear you again this evening."

Scott did not answer Jean's first knock. Or her second. In fact, he did not open the door to her until around knock twenty two, at least by his reckoning. "I don't want to talk to you," he said priggishly, his features haughty and voice dripping with disdain.
Jean growled, "I'm telekinetic, Scott. Piss me off and I'll yank this fucking doff off it's hinges."
Scott paused and pretended to consider her words, while inside he was weighing the chances that Jean would actually do something like that. The door jerked in his hand and slammed back against the wall next to him. "Fine, I guess you can come in."
"Wise move." She stalked past him and stood stiffly in the center of the room, not looking at him but rather past him, at some spot level with his head. She licked her lips and seemed to be trying to fix the words she wanted to use firmly in mindmind before speaking. She finally said, more softly than Scott expected, "I'm sorry."
"Um..." He shut the door then, leaning against it, not approaching her but regarding her with interest, and, she hoped, acceptance. "Okay."
"Okay? As in you forgive me? Or okay as in you're acknowledging I've spoken?" She still did not look at him but took one step closer, reconsidered, and returned to her previous spot mid-room. "Never mind. I have more to say and I don't think I want to know just yet." Scott remained impassive, making her suddenly nervous. "I took advantage of your understanding nature and I did something stupid. I want you to believe that I'm not doing this to cheat on you but I am really trying to get to the bottom of something. Duncan will spill his guts to me if he thinks I'm interested in him-he likes showing off, he thinks it makes him more desirable or something." Scott snorted at her words and she was heartened somewhat that he would find humor at a time like this. "I really wasn't going to go. I was going to stand him up. I mean, you didn't show any interest in going to the dance and I really can't see you dressed up in a costume-I know how much you hate doing it even on Halloween, which is ironic considering how we dress sometimes..." she made a nervous sound, not quite a laugh but not quite anything else, and grasped a lock of her hair, resurrecting an old nervous habit and twisting it around her finger. Gulping under Scott's stoic scrutiny, she babbled on, "I thought we-you and I-could just do something on our own Friday night whileryoeryone else was at the dance. You know, just us?" Her voice had a tinge of hope in it that quickly faded when Scott's face remained impassive. "I was hoping...Hell. I know I can make you see the truth, make you see what I did and what I'm feeling, but I don't want it to be like that. I want you to believe me, trust me without needing proof like that. I want to think that you know me well enough, love me enough, to believe that I wouldn't cheat on you for the world." Scott did not answer, just swallowed hard, his Adam's apple jumping with the effort it took to choke back words. Jean nodded glumly. Tears pricked her eyes but she refused to let them fall. "I fucked up big time, huh? Fine. Okay. I guess...I guess I'll go. Give you time to think or whatever." She ducked her head and headed towards the door, wincing as he took a large step to one side, making no attempt at subtlety in his movements. She paused in the open door, twisting the knob two and fro in her hand. "Just...just know that I love you and, no matter what you think, I always will. I am insanely in love with you and would sooner...sooner...I don't know. Dance naked on the kitchen table singing 'What's New Pussycat' in front of every male in this place than hurt you." She offered a weak smile in her attempt at humor but received nothing in response aside from the same blank expression from Scott. She nodded again, biting her lip and then murmuring, "Okay. Okay." The door closed behind her with a soft but final thud, barely cutting off the sob that rose from her throat.
Scott covered his face with handsands and sighed painfully. _I am such a fucking ass. Maybe this is too fargo fgo for an elaborate gesture, but she'll forgive me on Friday when she sees what I have planned... _ He lay back on the bed to stare at his ceiling, a horrible thought occurring to him. _What if she doesn't forgive me? What if she's so pissed I let it go so long and decides she can't be with me after all? Shit shit shit shit! What the Hell was I thinking, taking relationship advice from the Brotherhood guys? _

Kitty popped a floating bubble with a recently cleaned fork, letting Jean tug it from her grip telepathically and send it to the drain board. Amara sighed next to her and Kitty frowned. "I'm sandwiched between two Gloomy Gusses. I'm verging on a good mood here, girls. Work with me!" She had great confidence that the Professor would sort things out with Superintendent Chalmers the next day and all would be right with the world again.
Amara snorted. "I am performing menial tasks. Hon I n I be in a good mood?"
Kitty grinned. "Because I know what Lance has planned for Valentine's Day and you're gonna like it!" she said in a sing-song voice.
Amara raised an eyebrow and shoved a piece of hair from her eyes with her forearm, cautious of the yellow dish gloves drippin her her hands. "I do not celebrate Valentine's Day, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, or any of your holidays. I celebrate Nova Roma's holy days and none other. This Valentine's Day is nothing more than an excuse by greeting card and candy companies to get more money by playing on the latent feelings of guilt and loneliness of the American public."
"You've been talking to Rogue, haven't you?" Kitty sighed. She blew a handful of bubbles at Amara and ducked the flying dish sponge that the Nova Roman launched at her in response. "What about you, Jean? Any big plans?"
"Don't want to talk about it," she mumbled, idly making a handful of silverware dance in a scene reminiscent of _The Sorcerer's Apprentice. _
Kitty sighed. Kurt had filled her in somewhat on what had happened at lunch. Scott had gone off like a rocket as soon as the words "with Duncan" left Jean's mouth and he had not come back down since. Jean, apparently, either had not made an effort to make things up to him or, worse in Kitty's mind, Scott had rejected her apology. "I'm sure Scott'll come around," she offered softly after a moment. "I mean, you two are so sweet together my pancreas hurts when we're in the same room."
Jemilemiled wanly. "He just won't listen to me. I already have a good idea about what Duncan's about, but a few more days can really prove it. It's not like him to act so...so cruel!"
Amara sighed and dropped the last dish into the rinse-side of the sink. "You people are so dense, always dancing around, trying to be the Scooby gang and make each little mystery into some big deal. Look here, Nancy Drew," she said, leaning towards Jean, "you need to learn to ask the right questions to the right people. You don't always need to go right to the source."
Kitty frowned. "By Jove, Sherlock, I think you're right,"2 she quipped. "Jean, you're doing things the hard way. We're ignoring one important fact here. There's three methods of communication in Bayville-telephone, television, and Tell Amara."3
Jean looked hopeful for the first time since lunch. "What do you mean?"
Amara sighed. "Despite my...sovereignty...people tend to forget I'm around when they talk. I hear all sorts of things about all sorts of people."
Jean let the silverware drop and pushed past Kitty to grip Amara's shoulders. "Spill, woman. What do you know?"
With a barely controlled smirk and above Kitty's titters, Amara asked smoothly, "About who? You name them, I'll tell you what I know."
"Duncan Matthews." Jean ushered Amara to the table and pulled out a chair for her. Kitty grabbed three small bottles of apple juice from the fridge and joined them.
"What?" she asked defensively at Jean and Amara's raised brows. "We can't very well crack into Logan's beer..."
Amara shrugged. "Jean jumps right to the point, doesn't she?" she asked no one in particular. "Duncan is _very _ concerned about his image, more so than would be normal for a guy like him. He has some secrets that, if they got out in a town like Bayville, would so ruin his life. Not girlfriend-cheated-on-me-with-my-dad ruined but big time Jerry Springer lesbian transvestites pimped me out to midget nuns ruined." She took a long drink of her juice and inclined her head as if to say "next?".
Kitty, peeling the label from her bottle, asked thoughtfully, "Do you know the secret? I mean, just say yes or no and we can guess..."
"Let's just say that, in a roundabout way, it involves you..."
Jean looked startled. "Kitty? Something you need to share?"
Kitty shook her head so hard her ponytail was a blur. "No way! Duncan is like, so not me! Besides, why would I go for him when I have Kurt?"
Amara rolled her eyes. "Indeed. Duncan thinks you know his secret and he wants to make your life so miserable that you're afraid to spill it."
"First off," Jean said, head starting to throb unmercifully, "how the hell do you know that? And second, what would Kitty know about him? They're not even in the same social circle."
"Ah, but it's a fine line," Kitty said with the air of someone wise beyond their years. "I'm in the preppy outcast/ brainy circle which overlaps with the preppy popular/jock circle by virtue of the popularity factor. My popularity is based solely on the fact I'm cheerful and, as some would say, cute. That blends well with the popular-for-the-sake-of-popularity crowd that Duncan runs in. They come to my circle for tutoring, to have the cache if intelligent acquaintances and the occasional "smart girl" date while we turn to them for...well, nothing really. It's mostly one sided."
Amara snorted and Jean finally laughed. "Not too high an opinion of yourself there, hey, Kit?"
"I calls 'em as I sees 'em."
Amara shook her head ruefully and said, "It seems that in your...overlapping...Duncan feels that you gained some knowledge of his activities or activities he was somehow involved in that would be detrimental to his station in life. And he means to see that you don't let that secret slip."
"But," Jean said, nearly begging, "you don't know what it is?"
Amara rose, tossing her empty bottle into the glass recycle bin. "I may know. I may not know. Right now, I'm tired. Ask me again tomorrow."
Jean and Kitty stared at each other for a long time after Amara left. Finally, Kitty said, "You know, I'm really starting to think she's a bitch..."
1 Stole the crap-weasel thing from Friends.
2 I'm on a bad joke kick. Go fig.
3 Honestly, I got it from an ep of Andy Griffith, talking about how bad the barber is about gossiping. I have got to get out more...