“Damn you, Charles Xavier. Why’d you have to die and leave me to deal with all
of this alone?”

Scott found himself saying that at least once a day. Some days it was his first
thought on waking and his last before – mind racing with all he hadn’t
accomplished that day – he fell into an uneasy sleep. It had almost become his
mantra. Sometimes he even said it aloud. Not this time, but it was
reverberating in his brain throughout the X-Men team meeting. He tried to keep
focused on the business at hand, but his mind kept wandering to the distressing
surprise he’d found in his – formerly Charles’s – office earlier that day.
And he tried to keep his musings behind mental shields, not wanting to distract
Jean from the meeting by broadcasting his concern. He wasn’t sure he was all
that successful. She kept looking at him intently, even when what he was
telling the team about was not particularly interesting.

He turned from Jean to Warren. With Hank and Charles both dead, the three of
them were the only survivors of the original team. Clearly the two remaining
original X-Men were the ones to consult about this new development. Scott
decided to push his dilemma to the back of his mind for the duration of the
meeting. Dwelling on it now would accomplish nothing and would likely worry
Jean unnecessarily. He’d focus on the business at hand and then ask Jean and
Warren to stay after the meeting and tell them about it then.

************************************************************************
Sasha Cherevko found his attention wandering as the X-Men team meeting went into
its second hour. He stole a glance at his wife, sitting next to him, but Jean’s
listening expression and the lack of her presence in his brain suggested that
she was still fully engaged in the meeting. She always was when Cyclops was
speaking, he reflected with a twinge of jealousy.

He tried to suppress the twinge, patting his wife’s growing belly, reminding
himself that both the baby in that belly and the ring on her finger were his.
She took his hand and squeezed it a bit, but her attention still seemed totally
focused on what Scott was saying.

It wasn’t as if what he was talking about was all that interesting, either. The
mission post-mortems, planned missions, and training plan portions of the
meeting were over, and they had moved on to housekeeping and administrative
details. Sasha always listened attentively and asked plenty of questions when
missions were discussed, as did they all. It was one of the first things he’d
learned when he’d unexpectedly found himself a member of a paramilitary
organization: what you can learn in a meeting could keep you and your teammates
alive during combat. Everyone profited from mission post-mortems and everyone
was profoundly interested.
On the other hand, details about changes in duty rosters, uniform cleaning
procedures and updated rules about recreational use of mutant powers en route to
and from a mission were profoundly boring to most of the team, judging by the
reactions around him.

Even Alexander Summers, the newest X-Man and Scott’s brother, seemed bored.
Sasha thought that fact significant since unlike the rest of them, this was all
new to Alex. A couple of the others were even nodding off. But as long as it
was Scott speaking, Jean acted as if it were something fascinating being said.

He knew what she’d say to him if he’d mentioned feeling jealousy, or if she’d
caught it in his brain. “I love *you*” would be part of it, for sure, but so
would “You knew the deal.”
And she would be right to say it. He’d known the deal from the beginning. The
deal about being in love with an X-Man, the deal about being an X-Man. He’d
married Jean – married into the team – with his eyes wide open.

A big part of the deal was complicated relationships. Nobody was ever just one
thing to anyone else. Jean was his wife, but she was his teammate, too. And
his colleague on the faculty at Xavier’s Academy. The times he’d been injured
in combat she had been his doctor, as well. Such multifaceted and entangled
relationships were the stuff the X-Men were made of, and Sasha had known that
long before he’d been recruited, known it as soon as he’d recovered enough from
the trauma and deprivation to pay attention to the people around him.

Mostly he liked that complexity, the feeling of community and belonging that
comes when your friends are your colleagues are the people you live with. But
sometimes it made him a little bit uncomfortable. Sometimes the relationships
seemed a little too complex, almost inbred.

Jean’s relationship with Scott was about as complex as they come. He was her
boss, both as Field Leader and – since Charles Xavier’s death – as headmaster of
the Academy. She was his doctor, and the head of the science department at the
school. She was a member of the combat team Scott led and had been since she
was 16 years old, although she was functioning in a support role for the
duration of her pregnancy. She and Scott had fought in untold numbers of combat
missions, side by side.

Jean and Scott were old friends, too. The first two students at the school,
before it had even been a school, they’d been close since their teens. All that
was easy to assimilate, easy to accept. If that’s all they’d been to each
other, Sasha wouldn’t be getting this knot in his stomach watching Jean watch
Scott as he stood up and went over to his desk to get a document he’d forgotten.
Others in the meeting used the brief break as an opportunity for side
conversations, but her eyes tracked Cyclops the whole way.

It was at times like this that Sasha was reminded that Scott Summers was not
just his wife’s boss, and patient, and colleague, and friend, but also the man
she’d wanted to marry. Her first serious boyfriend, her first lover, the man
she’d lived with for years. The man she’d been engaged to. The ring she’d worn
when she and Scott were together was still in her jewelry box, on the dresser in
the room she shared with her husband. And it wasn’t Jean who had broken off the
engagement, but Scott. She’d been devastated when he left her, Sasha knew.
She’d considered leaving the X-Men, starting over elsewhere. But those
complicated ties are of the kind that are hard to sever, try as we might. A
little more than kin, a little less than kind. So, Jean had stayed and mourned
the relationship and bit by bit recovered from the breakup.

All of this added up to occasional worry over Jean’s continued attachment to
Scott. Sasha felt silly to worry like that. She’d married him, after all, and
had done so with joy and conviction. Scott Summers had never seemed anything
but thrilled that Jean had found new love with Sasha. He’d even been their best
man. So, as Scott turned the meeting over to Warren Worthington to give an
update on the X-Men’s financial picture, Sasha resolved to quash any feelings of
jealousy, preferably before Jean picked them up telepathically.

He didn’t quite make it. Warren was explaining that although the Xavier
Foundation’s financial picture was improving, they were still suffering
significant after effects of the War on Mutants, including reduced cash flow.
Warren was giving the bad news, but Sasha was not entirely attentive.

“I’m afraid we won’t be able to resume X-Men salaries just yet,” he was saying.
“Those who have specific needs, though, should speak privately to Cyclops or me
and we will work something out to provide for you.” Jean’s brain reached out to
Sasha’s as Angel spoke. Sasha quickly clamped down on the reason for his
concern, but a whiff of worry must have remained.

“Are you upset about the money, love?” she asked telepathically.

He shrugged mentally, knowing she’d pick it up. “I had nothing when I came to
this country,” his brain said to hers. “I got used to that – even the clothes
on my back were not really mine, just due to the kindness of relief
organizations, and later of Charles Xavier. But then it felt good to know I was
working for a living again, pulling my weight. Now? Not so much.”

“You are pulling your weight!” Her voice in his head was insistent. “We’re
earning the money and we’ll get it eventually. It’s just that the Foundation is
under temporary financial constraints right now. It’s nothing to do with our
work.”

His mind acknowledged the truth of what she said. “Still, with the baby coming,”
he added, “Perhaps we will need money. Do you think we should talk to Warren,
as he said?”

“I can discuss it with Scott, if you want, but I don’t think we really need the
money. I have savings, and there’s not that much we need for the baby. We’ll
get gifts; there are plenty of hand-me-downs and baby equipment around here.”

“Yes, you’re probably right.”

“Don’t let a paycheck be the measure of your self-worth, darling,” she added,
and they both directed their attention back to Warren’s presentation.

Jean wasn’t the only one watching Cyclops carefully. Logan’s eyes never left
Scott, and the scowl on his face during Warren’s presentation suggested he
didn’t like what was going on. A lot of the X-Men had similar scowls, but they
were concerned with the content of the presentation. Cheerful acceptance of the
austerity measures undertaken six months ago had eroded over time, and
disgruntlement had set in. What had felt like a necessary short term measure,
due to the recently concluded War, was now starting to feel like a way of life,
long after peace had been declared. A lot of the X-Men didn’t like it.

They weren’t mercenaries, of course. They believed in their mission, in the
vision of Charles Xavier. They felt a loyalty to one another, and to the team
as a whole, that motivated their every action. They were all willing to work
crazy hours, risk their lives, run into danger while others ran away. They just
thought they ought to get paid a salary, even a small one, for doing so. And
the scowls on their faces as they looked at Warren, telling them that the
austerity measures - including working for room and board – would have to
continue for a while were evidence of their dissatisfaction.

*****************************************

Logan’s dissatisfaction was of a different character. He didn’t care about the
money. Logan had lived hand-to-mouth a lot of years. Life at Xavier’s – even
without any income – was more secure than he’d been accustomed to for much of
his life. Sometimes more secure than he liked. Still, food whenever he was
hungry and a warm place to sleep were just fine with him, and combat missions
satisfied his cravings for danger most of the time. Sometimes Xavier’s felt
too crowded, clashed with his solitary nature. When that happened, he up and
left. Always came back, though, which said something.

Yeah, being an X-Man was pretty much just fine with him, and nobody had to pay
him to fight. He’d be doing it anyway. A few years of cage fighting made him
appreciate being part of a mutant combat team. At least as a member of the team
he could use his powers openly and the combat had some sort of point beyond
amusing onlookers and enriching some cheesy promoter. No, Logan wasn’t scowling
because of what Worthington was saying. Logan’s frown was entirely due to Scott
Summers, who was not only his Field Leader, but also his lover. And Scott was
clearly hanging on every word spoken by the X-Man known as Angel.

Logan was the only one, he knew, who could tell what Scott was looking at.
Partly that was due to his heightened senses, and partly due to paying close
attention for a long time. Logan alone had learned how to “see” behind the dark
glasses Cyclops wore. He’d taught himself to track the faint glow behind the
ruby quartz lenses. Watching slight variations in intensity told him what
Scott’s eyes were focused on. And he was none too pleased to see how focused
they were on Warren Worthington.

None of what Angel was saying was news to Scott, that was for fucking sure, he
thought to himself. In fact, Scott had turned Logan down when he’d wanted to
have sex before the meeting, saying he didn’t have time because he was meeting
Warren in his office. Scott had *said* they were meeting because he’d wanted
Warren to practice his presentation one more time with him. He knew the damn
presentation by heart by now. He didn’t need to listen to it, didn’t need to
watch Worthington deliver it. Scott should have been – usually would have been
– looking around the room, seeing how the other X-Men were taking the bad
financial news. So, why were his eyes entirely focused on Angel? And what had
they really been doing in this office before the meeting?

Logan continued to scowl as Warren finished speaking and Cyclops regained the
floor. Scott was wrapping up the meeting now. Logan’s frown deepened as he
decided to pull Scott aside afterwards and ask him some pointed questions. Only
he didn’t get a chance to. As the meeting ended, and the X-Men started to leave,
Cyclops stopped Angel by the door. “Warren, can you stay for a few minutes?
There’s something I need to talk to you about.” A low growl escaped from
Logan’s throat, startling Northstar, who was standing next to him. “Jean?”
Scott continued. “You, too. It will just take a few minutes.” The rest of the
X-Men walked out, leaving the three of them alone.



Mo
Mofic Website: http://mo.fandomnation.com/fic/
www.livejournal.com/users/mofic

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