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Scott Summers is actually stealing a nap in his office. He has his visor on just for safety but he's drifted off, laying back in his chair and snoring a bit. A pile of National Geographic magazines sit nearby, having been reviewed for their actual information and not just the pictures of naked natives.
He's been a bit absent of late, adrift. With classes currently on break, he's a bit out of sorts and unsure of what do with himself. He's a laser blaster and he's not sure what to be pointed at in the moment.
A soft knock on the door alerts.. or would alert Scott to Jean's presence. Often time, she moves like a ghost, filtering into the room unannounced and often times unseen, slipping through the crack of the door she created and closed with a slight push of a hand. There was a little bit of an amusing glance as she watches him sleep, so much so that she doesn't want to bother him. Only, she sits in front of him, upon the opposite side of the desk, both elbows planted upon the surface, hands curled to accept her jaw, a little smile upon her face as she watches and.. yes. She slips right in. Watching his dreams as if it were transported upon a TV for the world to see.
His dreams seem to be similar to a recent show he saw on television. The bridge of a starship going through space. Jean was there, in fact, seated in front of him in a snazzy red jumpsuit, while Professor X stood off to the side with strangely pointed ears.
Scott sat in the captain's chair, drumming his fingers and waiting to see what strange new worlds, what new civilizations, they would boldly go today.
Interesting!
Jean slowly sinks herself into the role, a shadow of herself falling into line with the woman who was her, in the dream. Dreamwalking. She's done it before, but not often enough for it to make sense. Not to mention, with that other.. Woman lingering within her soul, she was slightly afraid to let that aspect fly.
"Captain." Jean.. real Jean says in the dream. "Long range sensors are picking up a battle class vulcan starship, mark 9-3-2 point 6, starboard bow. Two thousand kilometers away."
Scott pushes up to his feet. Here in his dreams, his eyes are normal, a clear blue underneath his close-cropped hair, "Put it on-screen. Chock, any speculation as to what a Vulcan vessel would be doing in this area?"
Xavier shakes his head, "None, Captain. Insufficient data."
"Jean, keep the shields up. Yellow alert. Everyone stand by," Scott says.
Jean drags her fingers along the console, the alarms ringing as the lights begin to flash a yellow that -nearly- looks like orange.
"The vulcan ship seems to be altering course. Looks like they were scanning for something.."
It was clear that the ship in the dream wasn't looking for them. And yet, upon the screen itself, a yellowish.. orange entity burning bright could be seen in the horizon.
"Shit." Jean snaps out, her brows furrowing. "Captain, I suggest we raise shields to maximum and switch to red alert."
"Shields to maximum, red alert," he says, agreeing immediately with Jean.
"Give me some feedback. What do the sensors say? What the hell is that thing?" he asks, leaning forward in his chair and demanding answers. The engineer's voices from the comm overhead, "I dinnae know, Cap'n, but it's a-startin' to pull us in somethin' fierce!"
The closer it becomes, the closer the outline is made. A bird, a large fiery phoenix that soars within the space, screeching loud enough to send a shockwave through the space system. The vulcan ship attempts to turn and run, but a pillar of fire expands from the beak of the bird, immediately annihilating it in it's path.
"Sensors say it.. it.. it's a.. I don't know!" Jean knew, but outwardly she was panicking. Scott knew enough about it to know that it was there, but not to this extent.
"Captain. I need you to wake up. Wake up right now or we're dead!"
Scott's consciousness jerks back into the world, perhaps pushed by Jean's mind shoving at his own, forcing him awake. Luckily, he had his visor on as his eyes open wide, the ruby-quartz containing his blasts as he startles and almost falls out of his chair.
"What…what…where…?" he says, his mind dazzled and dazed as he's pulled from the depths of sleep so suddenly.
Jean was already leaned back within her chair, pretending to not at least delve into his dreams. "I'm sorry.." She immediately murmured. "..I tried to wake you but it seemed like you were having a bad dream." Bad dream caused by her, though. "I was just dropping by to let you know that I'm going on another trip again. Nothing too extravagant, but.. a vaca..—.." She frowns a little. "Are you okay, Scott?"
Scott shakes his head for a moment, "I'm fine, just a bit…sorry," he says, getting his bearings. He takes a sip from the glass of water on his table and leans back in his chair.
"My own fault for sleeping on the job," he finally says. There was something in his dream, something intense, but he can't quite remember it. "A vacation? Well, it is the season, I guess," he says.
She shakes her head, lifting her hand. "I know I've probably left you here alone to deal with the load. I"m sorry about that." She does lean back, watching his reactions, then shakes her head. "You should take one as well. You burn the candles at both ends more than I do to try to make up for you being gone. But mental health, I've learned, is more important than getting the job done. But.. tell me, what's wrong?"
He shakes his head, "I just don't know what I'm doing, I think," he says. "I don't know this team. I feel like I'm disconnected somehow," he sighs.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe I've been pushing myself too hard. I don't know."