Celeste quickly answered his knock and, after a questioning glance at Rahne, invited him in.  She looked surprisingly frail and understandably tired.  "Have you slept at all?" he asked her kindly.

         The blonde shook her head and handed him a cup of tea.  "Don't think I'll get any tonight," she said with a smile.

        Sam nodded and sat down next to Rahne.  From the still tense vibes Rahne had, he knew that it wasn't the time to talk about Craig.  "Is Ariel settled in?"

        Celeste nodded, feeling the effort it took to preform even that simple gesture.  "I was telling Rahne about it..." She paused, bit her lip and closed her eyes.  "The limo ride-" she sighed.  "I asked Tony... I think I love Tony," she corrected herself.

        The look that Sam and Rahne shot each other was one of overwhelming concern.  It was hard to miss that the woman and the other man had chemistry and a deep friendship, but to suddenly jump to the conclusion that she might love the man was unbelievable.  Rahne opened her lips, paused and tried to say that diplomatically.  "A ken ye have feelings for him... but isn't this a wee bit sudden?"

        Celeste wrapped both hands around her mug, warming her fingers.  After a moment, she answered.  "Sudden... but it feels right."

        "Way too sudden," Sam pointed out.  "It's like yer afraid ta be alone."

        Rahne frowned at the bluntness of his statement, while nodding at the truth in it.  Celeste was afraid to be alone, truly alone like she was.  "Ye've been through tae much today tae think clearly."

        "Maybe I'm finally able to see the truth, " Celeste defended herself.  Still, the little voice in the back of her mind told her, she would say the same thing if she were in Sam or Rahne's shoes.

        Sam shook his head.  "It's kind of like.... Well, Storm thought Cable was in love with her because of the concern he showed over her.  But the only thing they had was empathically enhanced friendship."  He attempted to explain the situation as delicately as possible.

        Rahne was blunter.  "Name an emotion ye haven't felt today, Celeste, and tell me why ye wouldn't want tae hide behind someone else... especially when ye know that Tony could handle it for a while."

        "Ah am not weak!"  Celeste asserted as she slammed the cup down onto the table.  "And if Ah think Ah've got real feelings for Tony, then what's the problem?"  Stress and exhaustion had brought out her Texan drawl.  She stood up angrily, challenging them to tell her their real reasons for objecting.

        Rahne didn't have the energy for the confrontation.  "I don't think yer exactly clear headed right now and while ye've finally realized that ye love him, A think ye need tae wait tae tell him."

        Slightly modified, she sat down.  "Maybe," she allowed.

         Sam decided to change the subject.  "That's Ariel's diary?" he asked surprised.

        Celeste nodded.  "I...I'm finding out things about my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend that I didn't know.  Like he gave her alcohol and that she went over to his place when she was drunk..." Celeste trailed off and suddenly realized that the couple in front of her needed to talk.

        Sam frowned and wondered if Ariel had written the truth about the extent of the relationship between Matt and herself.  It might be the safest, kindest way that Celeste could find out.  "What are ya gin' ta do?"

        Slumping down in her chair again, Celeste sighed.  It was the only sound that she made for a long moment.  "The police wouldn't believe me or the word of an addict...and I don't know..." Two tears trickled down her cheek.  She brushed them away angrily.  "Emma's taught me better than this."  All these emotions weren't right, weren't her.  Even slapping Ariel and Tabitha was wrong, wasn't her.

        "What had Emma taught ya?"  Sam leaned forward, grateful for the turn in the conversation.

        "To be strong, to run a business, to watch out for myself...  Why?"  Celeste asked, sensing his interest.

        "Paige's changed, and Ah want ta know if Emma's responsible."  Sam said firmly.   The woman he'd seen a few minutes ago wasn't his little sister, not the one that literally chased him up the stairs, demanding that he give her 'chickie hots' because she didn't want him to be different from her.

        Celeste shook her head.  "Emma ... she polishes what she finds in you," she offered in defense of her mentor.  "She's actually stopped teaching Paige a lot of stuff because she said Paige is too hungry... but I'm hardly unbiased when it comes to your sister, Sam."  She admitted the bitterness she felt between herself and the younger woman.  "She wants my job, the sooner the better."

        Sam nodded, trying to find words to ask the questions he had.  "Does Emma give personal advice?"

        Celeste shook her head, trying to shake the cobwebs from her mind.  "She... gives suggestions not advice."  Taking a sip of the tepid coffee, she added, "Paige is too apt a pupil."
 
        "Such as?"  Sam prodded.

        "Emma has been wanting me to start socially seeing Tony Stark since I was up for membership in the Hellfire Club," Celeste began. "She wants Paige to break it off with Angelo and... she's arranged an introduction between her and the star of Roswell Creek, if you can believe it."  Celeste made a face as she thought about the lack of quality acting on that show.   She had been a child actor and knew the world that the actors ran in.  Paige would fit in too well, if anything.  "Matches that would benefit us socially and personally."

        "Emma helps us, teaches us how to fulfill the roles she has planed for us.  It's not... dirty." she added.  "Paige just doesn't believe anything is beyond her, even if she doesn't know what she's after."

 Paige was too ambitious and it wasn't really Emma's fault, Celeste was trying to tell him.  And that ambition was dangerous because it wasn't really focused.
 
        Sam shook his head, not quite able to believe the message.  All he cared about was the fact his sister had changed and Emma was a easy scapegoat.  "Ah'm thinkin' about havin' Momma pull her out."

        "That's not wise," Rahne spoke up.  "She doesn't want to go and ... will she fit in back at home?"
 
        "She and Angelo are sleeping together!"  Sam snapped.  "Back at home---"

        "She'll sleep with someone else."  Both women finished the statement together.  They smiled at each other.

        Celeste spoke first.  "She'd run away from home in a couple of months and Emma would give her a job.  Then she'd be bitter, suspicious, and ambitious."

        Rahne added, "And she'd have nothing tae do with ye and her family."

     Thinking about what they said, Sam tried to get more information about Emma Frost.  "What's Emma really like?" he asked.  He knew the Emma of old but, try as he might, he couldn't imagine that woman being involved with Bobby.

     Celeste paused for a moment and thought about the enigma that was her boss, mentor and occasionally, friend.  "Very complex.  I don't think anybody will ever really know her....  She's... she's a cat in personality."  She nodded, liking that description.  "She has a hidden motive for almost everything, only really tolerates those that understand that, aloof and mysterious.  And like a cat, she'll be nice for no real reason from time to time, yet in a way that kind of annoys you.  Kind of like a cat purring in your lap for half an hour when you have to go the bathroom."

     Rahne nodded, understanding what she meant.  "And her and Bobby?  A never, ever pictured that one lasting."

     Again, Celeste paused, trying to find a word picture that would fit that situation.  "I remember when I was a kid, Grandmere showed me something odd.  We planted a bean seed under a rock and watered it daily.  I thought the seed would die but it ended up splitting the rock.  She said that no matter how strong something is, it can crack under the right circumstances.  Bobby's right for Emma."

     The word 'bean' triggered a memory.  "I've got to read a report and respond to it tomorrow for a company.... Sticky situation.  I do some of the leg work for Emma, and I refuse to recommend that we do business with a company that exports from China and this company swears it doesn't so I..." She smiled, knowing the lengthy description was out of place.  "I've got some important reading to do."   Quickly, she excused herself and made her way back to her room.

     "Well..." Sam started, surprised at the change in subject.  "A think that was her way of sayin' we need ta talk."

     "Sledgehammer time," Rahne agreed.  "Emma never taught her to keep her opinions to herself."

     The pause became deafening as each person waited for the other to start talking.  Finally, after several minutes, Sam broke the silence.  "What can Ah say about everything?"

     Rahne shrugged.  "A donnea know, Sam-Sam... It's really up tae me tae do the talkin' and A can't find the words.  Ah'm praying for them, but they donnea come easily."  Her feelings were more complex than she was literally able to vocalize.  She sighed, knowing that one sound said more than all other words she could have used.

     Sam smiled and pulled her to him in a rough hug.  "A'm here when ya find the words, fur-top."

     Rahne leaned on him for a long moment.  "A want tae go tae his grave site, Sam.  Talk tae him.  But A donnea know what tae say."

     He reached over and flicked a strand of hair out of her eyes.  "Then wait," he advised.  "And the words will come."

     Rahne nodded, borrowing his strength for a moment.  "Some day," she decided.  "When ye can come with me."

     "Ah'd love ta."  Sam promised her.
**

     Emma Frost, it had been said, lived in a world that belonged solely to herself.  Early in the morning, she slipped out of bed and made her way towards the telephone to call her daughter.  Even though she and Bobby had agreed to keep their engagement quiet, it was important that she tell Cordelia the news.

     She hit the first button on her speed dial and tapped her finger as while the international call connected.  "Hello?" Cordelia said.

     Allowing herself a rare smile, Emma responded, "Hello." If she didn't know better, she would have sworn that her daughter's voice began to panic as Cordelia realized her was her mother on the other end.

     "I swear I'll pull up my grades!" she started.  Emma had sent Cordelia to an exclusive finishing school in Paris as a way to keep her out of the United States.  "I'm doing excellent in French and Spanish and Food Science... it's just that math and physics are harder than I expected."

     Emma leaned back and held in her sigh.  Math and physics and several other courses were always harder than Cordelia expected.  Her last consultation with the headmistress of the school left Emma with the impression that they believed that Cordelia wasn't Ivy League material.  Not for the first time, Emma considered changing schools.  But Cordelia was in the last semester of her senior year and Emma had secured her a place in the American University in Paris.  "Food Science?"  Emma asked, surprised.  That hadn't been on the list of courses that she had seen offered.

     Cordelia nodded, hoping this was the right time to talk to her mother about that.  "Actually... it's a class at the Sucre Coure, kind of a introductory class in gourmet cooking, and I love it!"  She paused and tried to explain her new plans.  "'Ma–" That was her compromise,  a word that was either short for Emma or stood for mother.   "I love it, and the chefs all say I have talent, real talent..."  She trailed off, afraid to continue.  The Frosts had always been serious business people, each generation making more money than the last.

     Hot chocolate was the only thing that Emma knew how to make well, and she was impressed that her daughter was able to do so much better than her.  "And what do they think?"  Emma prodded.

     Surprised at the allowing tone in her mother's voice, Cordelia continued with "They think I should take classes there and learn how to really cook.  Maybe even travel to Switzerland and take a couple classes from there and other places too."  Her eagerness started to grow as Cordelia continued, "And I think... I mean, I've researched it and— I know most businesses fail in the first five years and restaurants are the worst kind of business to own– but I've been researching this, and I think I want to open my own restaurant."

     Something maternal rang in Emma's heart as she heard those words.  Most people had deemed it impossible for a woman to run a successful electronics business.  It had taken Emma's telepathic powers to get her the loans she needed to supplement her earnings in the stock market to get Frost Enterprises off the ground because of the prejudices the bankers held against her.  But she had built her business one electrode at a time, until she was the major player in the electronics industry and several others.

     But more than that, Emma had learned that it took failure to comprehend and appreciate success.  If she hadn't slaved over every inch of her company, coddling it and forcing it, she have would never had know how truly great it felt to be where she was.  She tempered her voice and asked, "Do you expect the money just to be there?"

       "One of my teachers offered to get me a job in a restaurant so I know how it's run.  It would be in the office and in the kitchen, doing everything from placing the orders to chopping vegetables."  Cordelia started.  "And if I do good there, I could move up in the pecking order... by the time I would go to the banks, I plan to have run some else's kitchen."  Although Emma was very liberal with her money, Cordelia understood that she would be responsible for making her own way in the world.

     That wasn't what Emma wanted to know.  Quite frankly, regardless of what side of the ocean her daughter wanted to open a restaurant on, her influence alone could make it.  The only thing that Emma really wanted to know was if she was serious about this-- or at least as serious as an eighteen-year-old could be.  "I thought you wanted to be a counselor."

     Cordelia shook her head.  Her volunteer work had taught her that she couldn't do that because her impatience would inevitably clash with her telepathic ability and force a premature recovery for her potential clients.  It would be like building a brick wall on quicksand.  Until the foundation was in place, she couldn't just fix the brain, forcing mental strength where none had been found.  "I just don't think that's for me..."

     Emma nodded respectfully.  "I didn't think so," she allowed.  "Do you have a business plan yet?"

     Cordelia shook her head again, surprised that the phone call was going so well.  "It's... well, everything is either gimmicky or so classical.  I want to find my own niche first."  Last weekend, she and several friends had eaten at a place where it was pitch black, blind waiters, and dark food.   "I have an idea– something low fat, high taste and very fresh–  but I need to learn more first."

     That sentence, more than Cordelia's enthusiasm, encouraged Emma.  "You do have that trust fund," Emma reminded her sister.  Money had been set aside to allow Cordelia to live a life of total luxury if that was what she wanted.  "And, if you get your training, I'll invest in this."  Win or lose, her daughter would understand the business world much better than having never tried.  By investing in the restaurant, Emma would be able to get her started out right

     "Okay... who are you and what have you done with my mother?"  This was so out of character for her mother, she didn't know what to think.
 
     "I'm still her," Emma reassured her as she felt a faint mental touch radiating towards her mind.  "Impressive range, though."  Emma had an easy time reaching minds she was familiar with and the fact her daughter was able to reach that far was promising.

     Cordelia laughed.  "Forgive me... you call me at a decent time in the morning, sounding happy no less, and you take the fact I want to be a chef in stride.  What exactly did Bobby do to you?"  The long, languid laugh that flowed out of Emma's mouth said more than any words.  "'Ma!"

     "You asked."

     "I know you two are sleeping together... but!"  Every note from that laugh sang of things Cordelia hadn't even thought of yet.

     "He also asked me to marry him."

     "What's new?"  Cordelia dismissed that.  Her mother wasn't the marrying kind unless Bobby was that different than every other man Emma had known.

     "I said yes."  Emma waited several minutes for her daughter to start speaking again.  After three, she continued with, "It's not official until we have a party at the Hellfire Club but I wanted you to be the first to know."

     Cordelia blinked back her tears.  "Thank you...  I mean, I wish you the best...but he's eight years older than me!  Are you sure he's up to it?"

     "There isn't much he's not up to."  Emma reassured her.

**
      Sneaking out of her own house was stupid.  Even though Sam and Rahne didn't believe Celeste knew her own mind, they wouldn't have stopped her.  Changing her dress to something bought while she and Emma were shopping one day was dumb.  Tony enjoyed her for who she was.  Slipping on the soft, silky and barely-there bra and panty set was useless.  By the time they got to point that Tony would see it, it wouldn't matter what she wore.

        Maybe the only intelligent that she had done was picking up a sack full of condoms.  Celeste only meant to pick one box up to show Tony that she had seriously thought about what she wanted. But the drugstore had carried a dazzling array of condoms and, flustered, she bought one of each.  They would use them eventually.  The clerk did nothing but raise a knowing eyebrow and wish her a good night.

 Now, Celeste stood awkwardly in front of Tony's door and paused.  It was rather early.  His brother might be staying with him, or Forrest might be up.  Was she really willing to broadcast to either of them that they were serious?  And, even though Emma would understand if she didn't show up at the office today, what about her work?  Could she afford another day off? Had she really thought this out?  Was this only an emotional reaction to losing Ariel?    Each question raised doubt as to the wisdom of telling Tony that not only did she love him but she also wanted to him.

        She pulled down the short black dress, allowing for an ample view of her cleavage.  Licking her lips and running her fingers through her hair, she wished she had spent more time on her makeup.  Not that she lacked confidence in her looks, but her brown roots were being to show, and there had to be dark rings under her eyes.  Maybe she should drive back to the school, and wait until she  looked better.

        Shaking her head, Celeste decided that this was the time to tell Tony how she felt about him.  Now, before she lost her nerve and went back to believing that they were friends and nothing more.  Before Tony met with his old bed buddy, Celeste intended to stake her claim to him.  Confidently, she rapped on the door.

        A small oriental woman opened the door, wearing the blue shirt Celeste had given Tony as a birthday gift-and nothing else.  She looked pityingly at the blonde.  "Hello Celeste," she said.

        Something in the tone of the woman in Tony's shirt infuriated her.  "Who are you?" Celeste spat, almost afraid of the answer.

        The woman smiled a languid smile.  "A friend of Tony's... little girl."

        "I-" Celeste started as she felt like the breath had been knocked out of her.  She tried to verbalize her thoughts but failed.

        "You must be Celeste... he mentioned you several times last night."  Silver had lived too many years as a man to think like a female.  Tony had been drunk but a good lay the first time.  The second time, after he talked to his friend, had been an attempt to get her to side with him when he left the Network.  Sex had none of the emotional entanglements for her it had for others.

        "What kind of woman are you that you would fuck a man knowing he wanted another?"  Celeste spat out, having found a streak of false bravado in her.  She forced herself to concentrate on the fact that Tony had made his decision when he turned her down and slept with the female in front of her.

        A sated smile stretched across Silver's face.  "A fully satisfied woman...  someone that a child like yourself wouldn't understand."

        It felt like she was standing in the ocean at low tide.  Her footing and her emotional balance were disappearing as quickly as sand when the water retreated.  "I am not a child," Celeste protested.

        Again, Silver cut her off.  The older woman knew exactly what she was doing; issuing a woman-to-woman challenge that either Celeste would take up or abandon any hope of a romantic relationship with Tony.  And if Celeste wasn't brave enough to fight Silver for him, then she didn't deserve him.  "A little girl plays games with a man's heart... a woman sees things through."

        Celeste quietly gestured to her clothing as if to point out that she had intended to see things through.  She was nobody's little girl, nobody's fool.  Seeing that she had been mistaken in coming, she turned to leave carrying a small sliver of her dignity with her.  Her heart was aching, a feeling that she never had felt before.  Three steps away from the door, Silver added, "Children have children all the time... don't fool yourself."

        Celeste turned around ready to do battle.  She had an inkling that the Network knew more about people than the government, and wasn't surprised that Silver might have know that detail.  Pure fury grew in the place that had been hurting a second ago.  She looked over the woman, digesting her small breasts, her straight hips and the total lack of anything remotely feminine.  "It does take a woman to have a child," she agreed.

        "And a bitch to sell her."  Silver added, feeling the anger growing.  No wonder Tony thought so highly of Celeste.  At this moment, she was radiating enough danger to warn off all but the most confident.  "Just like a breeder would sell a puppy to the highest bidder."

        Celeste's response to that attack would have been an undercut to the jaw, fueled by a mother's rage.  Silver effortlessly intercepted her punch and held her arm up.  Surprised, Celeste tried to grab her hand back, only to fail.  Silver was pure muscle, grown from years of ninja training.  All she was was hot emotions backed by a violent temper.  In this area, the older woman won.

        After a pause, Silver let go of her arm.  In a cold, distant voice, she promised, "I am more dangerous than you could understand, little girl.  Don't ever try something like that again-or you'll regret it."  Something in her eyes matched the cold emptiness that Celeste had seen in Tony from time to time when they first met, an absolute lack of caring, and the total disregard for human life.

        Celeste walked away, knowing when she had been bested.  This time as she turned her back to Silver, she knew she had lost Tony without being able to fight for him.  If this was the kind of woman he took to his bed, then she never wanted to go there.

 Still, as Celeste walked away, she realized that maybe she could change his mind about what kind of woman he wanted.  Judging from looks, she would win.  And she knew Tony on a level that Silver never would.  She knew what it would take to drive him crazy in his daily life, how to tease him and torment him until he would think of her personal life and not his.  It was all a matter of playing games, if Celeste chose to.

 But their relationship was too real for that kind of treatment, Celeste realized as she drove into the rising sun.  She had to accept that Tony had made a decision and slept with Silver.  If friendship was all that what he wanted from her, then that was all she was going to give.

 It had been a long day.  Maybe she had misread his signals, inserted what she wanted to see in them.  To salvage her pride, she would pretend that the confrontation never happened.  Silver wouldn't tell.  And life would go on as usual.