x_project | This is _ALL_ Scott!Mun's fault.

A short scene, explaining one of the many, many reasons why I would be a hypocrite if I stopped Terry and Bobby. It's entirely possible I was... a difficult child.

((Non-canononical backstory for

x_jeangrey, set when she is aproximately fifteen.))

The door shut behind the boy with a solid ‘thunk’ and Jean huffed, a definite pout on her face. She hadn’t even gotten to say good night or tell him she’d call or anything. Not like she couldn’t just talk to him the next time she ordered pizza, though...

“You are restricted to Chinese take-out for the next year, young lady.” Professor Xavier’s voice was stern.

Jean scowled at him. “But Professor...!”

“Year and a half.”

“You can’t do that!” She didn’t care that she sounded petulant. He was being so unreasonable.

“I am not being unreasonable. Your father left you in my care, you are my responsibility, and under my roof you will follow my rules.”

“’No boys’ isn’t even a rule, it’s a dictatorial caveat.”

“And it still stands.”

“Gah! You’re impossible! You never let me have any fun! You never let me do anything! I’m stuck up here in the mansion, all on my own, the only people who’re even within a decade and a half of my age I ever see are the delivery boys and now you’re being completely unfair about one little incident...”

“Little incident? When I was your age I’d have been forced to marry any girl I was caught with in such a position.”

“That’s because you practically grew up in the stone age.”

“Jean Grey, you are here to learn to control your special talents, and to study so you don’t fall completely behind your peers, academically speaking, while you do.”

“And clearly it’s not possible for me to have any fun while I do all that, or even, God forbid, ever talk to a boy.”

Charles restrained the impulse to answer ‘Yes, exactly.’ “You are being most childish about this.”

“I’m being childish? I’m being childish? Well fine! If I’m such a child, why don’t you just ground me and get it over with. Not that it’d make any difference, cause I never leave, anyway.”

“Jean...” Charles tried, hoping to calm the girl down, but she was having none of it.

“Gah!” she cried again, flinging her hands in the air in one of those extravagant gestures no one over the age of twenty would even consider making. “You know, whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m good ninety nine days out of a hundred and the first time I ever try to blow off any steam you get all stuffy. You’re such a... such a... such a father!” She spun on her heel and headed determinedly towards the door. When she got there, though, she spun back around. “Honestly, anybody else would be glad I was experimenting here where you know I’m safe and can take care of me. Next time, I’m just going to steal the car!” And with that, she spun around again and flounced out.

Charles sighed, hands rising to rub at his temples. Now that Jean had left, the quiet amusement of the mansion’s other resident was much easier to pick out.

“Ah, teenagers. They are such fun, are they not?”

“I don’t know why I let her father talk me into taking her on... She’s such a handful.”