Subject: Roomies, Part 1/2 Date: 22 Dec 1996 18:38:57 GMT From: dsrtnomad@aol.com (Dsrtnomad) Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com Newsgroups: alt.comics.fan-fiction Hey! I wrote something serious! And my imaginary sister Cobalt Sunrise helped. I'm not imaginary! You're not? No! Oh. Coulda fooled me. Well, I never see her. Naval Academy my butt... Shut up and let them read the story. I'm sure they like hearing from me. Nomie, I don't like hearing from you. Ack! Well that explains my lack of email... On with the story... Disclaimer: We made it up. Marvel, all our money goes to you anyway, so by suing us, you're only hurting yourself. :) And on with the show! Roomies A Story about Sex Queens and Ice Gods By Desert Nomad and Cobalt Sunrise The battle was not going well. The National Guard had been blasting away at the alien creature for what seemed like hours, and it didn't even seem affected. Even the combined forces of both teams of X-Men, X-Force and Generation X were keeping the creature from further destroying the city, but just barely. Emma Frost felt the creatures brain psionically, searching for the millionth time for some vulnerability. She'd almost passed over a section of its psionic armor, when something made her stop. Its astral armor had a chink. A tiny one, but a chink, nonetheless. Emma reached out with her mind, and tried to make it larger. The creature bellowed and lashed out at her with one slimy tentacle, glowing with red energy. She only had a split-second to react. It wasn't enough. "Frosty's down!" Jubilee screamed, shooting another plasma burst at the beast. "Whatever she did to that thing, it didn't like it," Cable yelled over the sounds of battle. He felt the creature's mind, and discovered the breach. {Jean!} he shouted psionically. Jean finished telekinetically hurling a steel beam at it. {What?} {See that crack in its psionic defenses?} {Yeah?} {Think we can crack it?} {Not by ourselves. Betsy!} {Hmm?} Jean reexplained Cable's plan. {Mrs. Summers? May I be of assistance?} {Feel free M.} That's all the psis we've got, Cable thought grumpily. Not enough. Wait! {Starsmore!} {Wot?} {We're gonna crack that thing's head open psionically. You in?} {You jokin', guv? I can't do things like that.} {You can now.} Jono Starsmore gave the older man a psionic middle finger. Cable ignored him. {Okay, guys, 1...2...3... NOW!!!} The combined minds ripped at the beast at once. It howled and waved its tentacles vainly for almost a minute, until it forced them out of its mind. {We're not strong enough!} Jean realized. {All we need is one more good strong psi. Like Emma.} "Hank! How's Emma?" "Her body's screwed up pretty bad. How's her mind?" Jean probed her gently. "Fine." "There's the entire medical report." "Dammit!" Jean cursed. "If only we could put her mind in someone else's body until we defeat this stupid thing!" The other X-Men turned and looked at her. "What was that, Jean?" Warren said. Jean had stopped to think. "We need Emma's powers, but her body's not working. I think I can tranfer her mind into someone else's body along with her powers... but I need a volunteer." The X-Men looked at each other. They were all thinking the same thing. Everyone remembered what happened to Bobby when Emma took over his mind. And that was without her powers. Sure, the White Queen had changed considerably in the past few months, but no one was willing to risk it. "I think there are already too many people in my head," Shatterstar commented. "I think I'd need a permission slip for that sort of thing," Synch said. "Mind witch ain't getting in my head," Warren grumbled. Betsy slapped him. "I'll do it." The X-Men all turned to look at Bobby Drake. "Bobby, are you sure?" Jean asked. Bobby's last experience with Emma Frost had been... less than pleasant. "Hey, she's already been in my head once. What's one more time?" "If you're sure..." "Trust me, Jean." Jean looked into Bobby's sincere blue eyes. She turned away, and reached out with her mind. Emma Frost woke up. Something was wrong. She was... taller. The other X-Men were staring at her. "Where am I?" she asked, cautiously. Her voice was much... deeper than it should be. Jean Summers cleared her throat. "You're, um, in Bobby. Now, we've figured out a way to defeat--" "I'm in what??!!!" To her absolute horror, her voice came out as Bobby Drake's. "Bobby. Now as I was saying... Emma?" Emma stared down at "her" body. She was in Iceman's human form, wearing his blue on blue costume. "Oh, God!" "Emma, listen. You can fight about Bobby later. He was nice enough to loan you his body. Now we think that by combining all our powers, we can blow that thing's brain up." "Understood." The six psis linked minds, and reached out towards the alien beast. BOOOM!!! "Ewww!" Jubilee remarked. "You aren't the one stuck in Robert Drake's body," Emma replied coolly. "I resent that!" Bobby replied out of the same mouth. "Oh, shut up, Drake. Now if no one minds, I'd like to get back in my own body now." "Slight dilemma, my dear Emma," Beast said. "'You' are in a coma." "So? I'll be in a coma." "When the body is in a coma, the mind goes into a sort of hibernation. When the body revives, one does not remember the time they spent there." "Your point is?" "Jean already pulled your mind out of that hibernation. You would be fully conscious." "Well, can't you pull me out of the coma?" "No. The alien's energy beam has caused minor brain damage. The coma actually might be restorative. And you probably won't come out of it naturally for several weeks." "What?!" Bobby yelled. "You gotta recognize this is not the Hotel Drake, here. Emma can just go back to her body and wait for all I care. But this is my body!" "I agree," Emma added. "I don't want to spend any more time with Drake's fashion sense than I have to." "I'm afraid this matter is not up to debate," Hank replied. "Restoring your mind to your body could cause additional brain damage. You are staying in Bobby's head until you wake up." "Let's get this one thing straight, Emma. This is my body, I'm in control." "No way, Drake. You volunteered." "Ex-cuuuse me? I compassionately volunteered to let your poor battered soul into my paragon of a body so we could beat up that stupid alien and go home. I knew nothing about... well, this!" he said, gesturing down to his body. "Look on the bright side. You could be stuck in Skin." "Actually, Robert, any one of my students is about a thousand times more mature than you'll ever be." "Oh, sure Emma. That's why they're all down at Harry's now, trying to convince Harry that they're foreign exchange students who lost their IDs and really are over twenty-one." "They are not! Are they?" "Yup." "Grrr. Drake?" "Yes?" "Where did they get that idea?" "Hmm?" "Where did they get that idea? And how did you know about it?" "Um, they told me?" "Suuure, Drake." "You know, you two are getting really annoying. There are only two of you, right?" "Yes, Warren," Emma said glaringly. "Well, to us here on the outside, it sounds like Bobby's having a fight with himself. For a minute, I thought it was the return of Ralph." "Oh, shut up, Worthington!" Warren sneered at Bobby. "Who's Ralph?" Emma asked warily. "Ralph was Bobby's first friend here at Xavier's," Warren said saccarinely. "But it seems the rest of us had problems, um, seeing Ralph." "Shut up, Worthington!" "You had an imaginary friend?" Bobby was about to jump Warren, but Emma wrested control of the body. "You had an imaginary girlfriend!" Bobby screamed at Warren. "No, I didn't." "What about your friend Olivia?" Warren paled. "I made her up to... um, well, make Jeannie jealous." "Imaginary friends are imaginary friends." "I would walk away from this, if I could." "Shut up, Emma!" "Now we're back to this," Warren moaned. "If you guys are going to fight, go do it in your room." "She's not goin' in my room," Bobby announced. "Whatever, Drake," Warren said, leaving. "Robert, where do you propose we sleep?" Bobby stopped. "The couch." "For two weeks?!" "Actually, Hank said it'd be closer to three." "Aaurrgghh!" Emma took a deep breath. "Why can't I go in your room?" "Because you're Emma Frost. And in later years, we'll get into an argument, and you'll say, 'well, I've been in your bedroom', and everyone will think you seduced me, and it's not true." Emma was surprised. She hadn't suspected such an... acceptable reason. "You really feel that way about me?" "Sorry, Emma." "Do you?" "I don't know, Em. I mean, you've changed a lot recently, probably for the better, but I just don't know whether or not to trust you or not. I mean, you were the girl who told your own security guards to riddle you with bullets while you were in my body. That's not saying 'considerate of others' to me." "Oh. Well, I promise I won't ever bring it up again. I swear it." Something about her voice was sincere. "Okay." "This is your room?" "What's wrong with it?" "I don't know. I was expecting... I don't know. Star Wars action figures or something. Pet hermit crabs, maybe?" "The action figures got lost one of the times the mansion got blown sky-high. I never had hermit crabs. I had a turtle, but for some reason I left him here when I left the X- Men. Storm says Lockheed ate him." Bobby shrugged. He sat down on his bed. "So... what now?" "Huh?" "What do you usually do after vanquishing evil scum? I haven't done it lately." "Oh. Get a shower, I guess." "We are getting a bit rancid, aren't we?" "If you think you're seeing me naked, you've got a surprise comin' to you, Frost." "Grow up. If you think you're not going to shower for three weeks, you've got a surprise coming to you." "Oh. Good point. Um... promise not to look?" Emma laughed to herself. "Promise." "...and after dinner, we are going shopping. I swear, we were in my body, we wouldn't be wearing this." "I like my shirt," Bobby grumbled, referring to his brightly colored aloha shirt. "Too bad." "Well, if we go shopping, I'm not letting you pick my clothes. I don't do bustiers, Em." "Grow up, Drake." "Ooh, Emma, what day is it?" "Tuesday. Why?" "It's Hank's day to cook." Bobby threw open the kitchen door. "Hiya, Hankster! What's for eatin'?" "Greetings, Bobby. And how may I ask is your, ahem, guest?" "She doesn't like my shirt. I'm starved." "Well, the cuisine for tonight will consist of processed beef scraps compounded into a cylindrical configuration, and enclosed in a mixture of wheat, sugar, yeast and other ingredients, and topped with a piquant mixture of beans, tomato sauce, etcetera etcetera." "Yes!!! Chilidogs! Whoohoo!" Suddenly, Bobby's mannerisms changed. He crossed his arms poutily across his chest. Beast raised his eyebrows. "Possible the greatest mutant mind on the planet, and you cook chilidogs for dinner?" "Sorry, Emma. I like chilidogs. Put Bobby back on the line. He's more fun." "Hmmph." Bobby's carefree look returned. "Sorry, Hank. We've been fighting over the body all day." "Do you think you could perhaps summon the other members of our stalwart fighting faction to the evening meal?" "Chow!" Bobby screamed at the top of his lungs. Emma put her hands over her ears. Hank snickered. "I owe you much gratitude, Bobby." Cannonball slid into the kitchen. "Hey! Chilidogs!" "Where have you been all day, Sam?" Bobby asked. "Huh? Oh. Me an' Wolverine chased the Dark Riders all oveh Creation. An' boy, am Ah hungry! Did Ah miss anything?" "Only a giant battle for the fate of the city," Emma said boredly. Sam gave her a funny look. "You feelin' okay, Bobby?" "Huh? I didn't say anything." "Yes, ya did. Ya said 'Only a giant--'" "That wasn't Drake, that was me," Emma said. "But ya... Ah mean... Am Ah totally nuts?" "Bobby and Emma Frost have been sharing a body as of late. It's been difficult at times to tell who is speaking." "Oooohhh. Ah getcha. That usedta happen alla the time when Ah was one o' the New Mutants." All the X-Men came in and sat down at the table. The Professor said grace. Bobby started to doze off, as usual. "Wake up, you moron," Emma hissed under her breath. "Whu--? Huh?" Jean was giving Bobby an evil glare. She put her fingers to her lips. Bobby shrugged. "Amen," Xavier said. "Pass the mustard," Bobby said. "Why?" Emma asked. "Because I like mustard on my chili dogs," Bobby replied. "Well, I don't!" "Well it's my stomach!" "By the Goddess! Stop it! You two are being immature!" "You don't have to eat mustard on his chilidog!" Emma snapped. "That was Emma speaking, wasn't it?" Warren asked. "This never would have happened in the XSE," Bishop grumbled. "Pass the applesauce," Sam said. Jean passed the applesauce. "Robert," Xavier started. "you will have to learn to cooperate with Emma as long as she is in your body." "Shut up, Chuck!" Emma yelled. "Robert!" the Professor yelled back. "Wasn't me!" Bobby yelled. "Everyone, calm down!" Jean had spoken. Everyone shut up and glared at each other. Bobby picked up the mustard and dumped some on the chilidog. Emma quickly took control of his body in an effort to stop the demise of the chilidog. She took control a little too quickly. The mustard bottle flew out of Bobby's hand and flew across the room and landed on Warren's plate. "You know," Warren grumbled, wiping mustard off his forehead, "I bet this kind of thing doesn't happen in Excalibur. Maybe I should consider switching teams. I kind of miss Kitty..." "Hey, give that back!" Warren looked up in confusion. "Are you talking to me or you?" "He's talking to me." Warren shook his head. "Please stop bickering at the table," Professor X complained. "It disagrees with my digestion." "Now there's a picture that'll be stuck in my head the rest of the day," Scott grumbled. "You have yet to see bickering, Charles." "I assume that was Emma?" "Undoubtedly." "This is too weird," Warren proclaimed. "I'm joining Excalibur." "Oh, stop whining about it and either stay or go." "Emma, that's enough. I won't have you disrupting my table." "Actually, that was me. I was just teasing Warren." "Who's me?" Sam was staring at them in confusion. "Ah don't git this." "Frost invaded my--" "You volunteered--" "It wasn't my idea--" "You think I like it in here?" "Cable started it..." "And I'm ending it! If I'm forced to eat something with as much potential for heartburn as this confection, I don't need my risk increased by the stress induced by the...two...of you! Go to your room. Whoever's room." Xavier frowned to himself. "When did I become so anal?" he wondered under his breath. Bobby/Emma stomped out of the kitchen and up to Bobby's room. "You're always getting us in trouble," Bobby complained. "Me? It was you!" "Hey, you were the one who put up the big fuss about the mustard." Emma sighed. "I apologize, Robert. It was my fault. I only wish we'd bothered to eat something before getting banished." "Oh, don't worry about it. I used to get sent up here all the time when I was a kid. Hankster'll bring me up something after dinner." "No mustard." "Fine, what do you want on your 'dog?" "Actually, I prefer steak to 'dogs'." "Lighten up, Em." "Excuse me?" "I said lighten up. You are like... like the Hitler of rich people. Caviar with white wine! Black shoes in summer! Shoulder length gloves with strapless dresses!" "Robert, it's white shoes in summer." "Oh, it's Robert now? We've chewed the same food, worn the same clothes, you've seen me naked (I know you looked, so don't deny it!) and yet you still refuse to call me Bobby! Bob-by. Bob. Rob. Bert. Ice. Spanky. I don't care, just as long as it's not Robert!" "Spanky?" "It was an example." "Look, Drake, I didn't ask for this, and I would just as soon go back in my own body. I don't want your food, your clothes, your action figures, or your friends, I don't want to see you naked, and I certainly don't want to call you Bobby!" "I'd think you'd want to borrow my friends, seein' as you don't got any of your own," Bobby mumbled. "What was that?" "I said, you don't have any friends." "I don't need friends." "Good thing." "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means you're a nasty, mean woman who's going to die old and alone, with only her caviar for company." "There are more things to life than hanging around and having fun." "From where I'm standing, friends and fun are a lot more important than money and power." "Spoken from one who will never have either." "I choose not to direct my goals in that route, Ms. Frost." "Ha! You couldn't if you tried. Face it, Robert, you're a slacker. You start things, but you never finish them. You couldn't complete a crossword puzzle." "Maybe not a crossword puzzle, but I did finish a word search last week, FYI." "And when did you start it?" "Well, um, actually Doug Ramsey started it, but I finished it!" "That's sad, Drake. Very sad. I don't believe I wish to continue this conversation." "Figures." "What?" "You can't go five minutes if the conversation isn't about you." "That's ludicrous!" "I notice we're back on the subject of... you!" "I can, too!" "Fine, then. Let's have a conversation about, um, the Mets!" "Fine. I don't watch baseball. Tell me about the Mets." "Um, I don't follow the Mets. Bad topic." "Yeah." "Cheetos. Which are better, the little stick things or the round ones?" "Cheetos... I think I own stock in that company..." "Hey, look, ladies and gentlemen, we have returned to the Emma Frost Show!" "Fine, Robert, you've made your point. Happy?" "Ecstatic." "Oooh, big word. Did you learn that one from Dr. McCoy?" "I went to college, Emma." "Oh, I forgot. Mr. CPA." "So it wasn't the best of occupations. Sue me." "I would, but I think the courts would have a problem with the plaintiff and defendant being the same person." "Now, seriously High Lordess Frostbite--" "How did you know?" "Know what?" "That's what Jubilee calls me when she thinks I'm not paying attention." "Oh. Well, point being, what do you think would happen if you ever lightened up?" "What do you think would happen if you ever took something seriously?" Emma countered. Bobby considered this. "Probably do something stupid like fall in love." "You would." "Have you ever been in love, Emma?" "That's a little personal, wouldn't you think, Robert?" "I was madly in love with Lorna Dane. My whole life revolved around her. She broke my heart. And I've never been serious about anyone again." Bobby sighed. "So, you wanna psychoanalyze that?" Emma was quiet for a moment. "I find that very sad." "What about you? I guess you wear leather underwear and carry a whip to attract wholesome family men." "I don't believe you have any idea what goes on in my mind." "Sure I do. I mean, it's sitting in my body right now." Emma sighed. "Unfortunate fact that it is, you still can't read my mind." "Maybe not, but I bet I know a lot of things about you that you don't even know about yourself." Emma raised one eyebrow. "Such as?" "You care more about your students than you let on. You'd love to be a friend and mother to them, but it would just completely destroy you to let anyone know you cared about them. I think you're kind of jealous of Banshee's relationship with Moira, just 'cause you don't have anyone to bitch at when your life sucks. I think you're tired of only being able to depend on yourself." "That's enough, Robert." "But I was just getting warmed up." "You're guessing." "But I must be doing a pretty good job, or you wouldn't be so upset." "You haven't a clue, Bobby." "Hey, you just called me Bobby." "Slip of the tongue," Emma told him, coldly. "Where's Dr. McCoy with that disgusting dinner?" "Who knows. Avoiding the subject?" Emma sighed. "Trying to avoid hunger pangs. Who would have thought this body could require so much food, and so often?" "I'm a guy. Just enjoy yourself and be happy you won't have to work it off when you get in your own body." Emma was silent for a moment, considering that. "Bobby?" she asked, tentatively. "What? I have a name?" "I'm serious." "What?" "Bobby, I haven't eaten a doughnut in almost twenty years. Let's climb out the window and find a Dunkin' Donuts." Bobby blinked. He couldn't believe his ears. Or his mind. "Wow, Emma, that's worthy of...me." "Your mind must be influencing me." "No, just the opportunity of my body." That one stopped them both cold for a moment. "I think you should try rephrasing that one, Drake," she suggested, softly. "Dunkin' Donuts, two miles east. Ice slide or Scott's car?" "And how are you planning on pulling that one off, O Great Escape Artist?" "As a joke once, Remy snitched Scott's keys and had copies made for anyone in the mansion who wouldn't tattle on him." "Ahh. So... what does Scott drive?"