She picked the hard option.
Scott wasn’t really surprised, he was far from shocked, and in truth that was what he wanted, too. He liked the challenge, he liked the change of location, he liked the ability to be somewhere that he wasn’t just Scott Summers: professor, boss, leader of a not-so-small revolutionary team.
In the woods he could just run. And run. And worry about the pumping of his legs and the movement of his arms. He could worry about keeping up with her, all legs and grace and feral ability.
Because she’d decided that they do this, that they come here, that they take the thirty or so minute drive to ride further upstate. To turn down a backroad and then a fire road and park, there in the absolute middle of nowhere.
Logan would have loved this. Logan would be jealous, later, when he smelled the spruce and pine and oak clinging to Scott’s skin, mixed there with sweat and, yeah, Scott was okay admitting it to himself. Logan would be jealous that there’d be her, too.
And maybe Scott was okay with that. Because maybe Logan had driven him insane on a number of occasions telling him about London. Questioning him about London.
He might not be a telepath, but he sure as hell seemed to always know what was going on in Scott’s mind.
And then Scott had walked in on them…
Taking a steadying breath, Scott centered himself again. The only thing he could hear was the sound of their footfalls, she was near to him, a little to the left, they were both running full tilt and he was pushing his limits.
She was just so much faster than him, as she should be, and even though they’d both agreed to keep heading out even with the threat of rain, Scott had assumed it would be a sprinkle.
Instead it was a downpour.
As rain sluiced down over his skin, running in rivulets past his hair, around his glasses, making his shirt stick to his skin as mud flung with each footfall, Scott considered seeing if she wanted to turn back.
It was awkward, they were more than halfway through the route which meant they really had to keep going, but he neither wanted this to be over nor did he want them to stop.
Being back at the Jeep meant going home, which would mean Logan, but Scott didn’t want Logan right then.
And stopping meant talking or spending some time together taking deep breaths and calmly drinking water while trying to make small talk.
And it wasn’t just him who had clothing sticking to his skin.
He could do this though, he could slow and stop and offer. He could spend moments with her in the rain and not look half as hungry as he felt. He was a grown man and she was a very grown woman and really this had been the worst idea.
“You,” Scott began, turning just a little, slowing in his steps, but he hadn’t given her any warning and she had been right behind him and then in a flash when he changed the patterns of it all she was running full tilt into him.
He caught her, grabbed her by the shoulders, but the momentum sent them both turning, and even in his shoes against the wetness and the leaves and the dirt, there was no chance. All he could do was to his best to protect her. To make sure he took the brunt of the fall, rolling so it was him that hit the ground first, back against roots and stone as they slid.
It was only seconds, not long of a span at all, but he was dirty and sore as he clung to her, grip bruising as he looked up and searched her face urgently. “Are you okay?”
