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Author's note: Sorry this took some time to break out. I am gonna finish this; I'm determined. But I'm also halfways drunk (YEAH COLLEGE!) and spell checking is beautiful. Enjoy.



“How was it?”

Ororo turned around and faced Jean. She was half bent, getting her shopping bags from the boot of her white Honda when Jean asked her question. Ororo escaped her-- she wasn’t used to hearing it be called hers-- mansion; she was going stir crazy and just being in the same place she grew up in was too much. It shouldn’t have been, but much of Ororo’s memories shouldn’t have happened and they did.

Ororo straightened her spine and gathered her bags, forcing a bright smile on her face. “Oh, wonderful. I was going to invite you but I couldn’t find you.”

Jean raised a brow. “I’ve been here, Ro, this whole time.”

The underhanded insult was not lost on Ororo. “Really?” Ororo asked. “I tried calling for you but you didn’t answer. So maybe you were busy? I left around ten...” she trailed off, walking to the side of her car and grabbing her purse. She flashed Jean a venomous smile, though she wasn’t sure why; Jean hadn’t really said anything biting. Ororo was probably just reading into things.

“Hmm... Ten? I was in the kitchen. With Scott--”

“Did you also have a lead pipe?” joked Ororo, her tone sardonic.

Much to Ororo’s surprise, Jean cracked a smile. “No, just some breakfast.” Jean glanced at the bags. “We were going to invite you to brunch but you weren’t in your room. So we tried Charles’.”

Ororo cocked a confused brow. “I don’t sleep in Charles’ room,” Ororo said, lost.

Jean hummed. “Yeah, that’s what I told Scott.” Jean watched Ororo move towards the door. “So I tried Logan’s room while Scott checked Charles’ room. I must say, Ororo, you are very good escaping quietly.” Jean ran her fingers through her red hair, as though she hadn’t said something particularly offensive or sneaky. “So what stores did you go to?”

“Why would you check Logan’s room?” Ororo asked, turning part way to face Jean.

Jean walked lazily towards Ororo and opened the door for what was once her best friend. “Aren’t you sleeping with him?”

Ororo swallowed. “I wasn’t trying to escape.” Not really. Ororo was going stir crazy; being in the house she was once so familiar with was making her feel strange. That, and she’d been buried under piles and piles of bills and letters. “I went shopping.”

“That’s good news then. Best news I’ve heard all week,” Jean said brightly, brushing past Ororo.

Ororo pursed her lips and followed Jean inside, telling herself that getting into it with Jean wouldn’t save their relationship. But still, it wasn’t anyone’s business who Ororo slept with. It wasn’t like Jean had some sort of stake on Logan-- Jean was married, after all.

“Logan will be pleased to know--”

But then again...

“Why? Because I fucked him?” Ororo hissed.

Jean narrowed her green eyes and smiled at Ororo. “You know, Ororo, this attitude you’ve picked up... I’m not sure I like it. You sleep with strange men, you don’t talk to your family, and you curse: You’re just like him.”

“Who? Logan?” Jean nodded. “I hardly know him.”

Jean shrugged. “You hardly know any of us, anymore.”





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