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Picking Sides

K and Logan had gotten up early, and K had gently roused Scott and Jean from where they'd been tucked in together on the couch.

"I'm serious. Even if it's just for the morning, go try out a bed. If you're nervous, one of you can stay on the covers, but ... seriously. Get some coffee and go to bed," K told them softly.

Jean was redder than Scott was - but then, it looked like she was more awake than he was. "We weren't-" she started to say, but she cut herself off at the look on K's face.

"Early morning wakeup," Scott said, trying to explain what Jean couldn't.

"Whatever you want to call it, I'm sure it would be much better. In. A. Bed."

Both Jean and Scott looked a bit redder at that, though they did at least have the sense to gather themselves up and get off the couch. But they weren't quite out of K's earshot when Scott must have snagged Jean around the waist, because K heard the delighted laugh as well as the shift in their footsteps as they redirected from the kitchen toward the stairs back up to their rooms.

She waited for them to head off before she picked up the blanket they'd been using and took it for herself on her way back to the kitchen. There was a cold snap that was hammering their section of upstate New York, and though she hated to admit it ... she was feeling a little cold. So, by the time she settled in with her coffee, it was really just a matter of time before Natasha came down for coffee herself.

Natasha hadn't lost sleep for the same reasons Jean and Scott had - entirely. Jean and Scott had been slowly blending their subconscious minds together to the point that they were never entirely sure who was dreaming what, especially now that they had both been under Sinister's knife at some point. But it was Sinister that had kept Natasha awake - only because she had been researching the man ever since she heard from Scott that he had taken a keen interest in bothering Logan and his newfound family.

Her head was still ringing with everything she'd learned, so she wasn't in the mood to dance around it as she sat down heavily beside K and narrowed her eyes at her. "This is patently unacceptable," she said without any preamble. "This so-called scientist can not be allowed to interfere with your family in this way. It has to stop."

"Right. Because we're just letting it happen without a fight," K said dryly. "Sounds like any one of us." K frowned at her for a long moment. "Who told you, why are you so ... invested, and have you been up all night?"

Natasha waved a hand in irritation. "I was getting to know your son, and the more I heard about what's been happening, the less I liked it - especially when he made me swear not to go after this person alone."

"Oh, so you're going to come swooping in to try and single-handedly save everyone?" K's tone was so clearly sarcastic there was no way it could have been misinterpreted.

Natasha gave her a dry look. "I'm going to help," she said. "Like it or not, I care about Logan."

"I just have a hard time believing why you'd bother after all this time. Two-way street and all."

"He told you our history?"

"Of course he did," K said, frowning at her. "We don't hide things from each other." She leaned forward. "So he knows our history too, Widow."

Natasha tipped her head up slightly but didn't rise to the bait. "I only ask because, if you knew the history between us, you'd know it's one of the few good memories I have. That alone is precious to me. You can understand that, da?"

"Absolutely," K agreed. "But in all fairness, his memories of you don't reflect what your life has been like since then. He hasn't had a way to know what your intentions or desires were in all the time you were out doing what you do. But as far as the old stories and history, I've even seen the picture that Steve has in his lockbox. Loved the curls. You should let them grow out again."