Disclaimer: While all Mutants and Tony Stark belong to Marvel, this story and this timeline are copyright of me. The title is a reference to "So Complicated," a song by Caroline Dawn Johnson. Explanation: This story marks my return to the X-Men fan-fic, and my Facing the Music timeline. I've made many references to events in previous stories in that timeline, which can be found at  http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/canzona.htm .
 

Celeste woke up to the tune of "Little Miss Riding Hood" playing on her cell phone. She bit back a thrill of panic as she realized that she didn't know where she was. Turning over, she saw the well-built man starting to stir. "It's my phone," she whispered as she grabbed the peignoir off the ground. Slipping it on, she saw Tony Stark turn over.

It only took her a second to find her purse and dig out her newest toy, a programmable MP3 player/camera/cell phone. The general 'coolness' factor was enough to almost make her forget that Frost Enterprises didn't produce it. "Hey Rahne," she whispered.

"A did it again," Rahne answered. While there were a good many things that Rahne was good at, remembering the difference in time zones was not one of them. Frost did make a phone that would automatically make the conversion.

"It's alright," Celeste reassured her friend. "I had only gotten to bed a few minutes ago," she continued as she made a note on her PDA to send a new phone to Rahne ASAP.

"Ye weren't working ta hard were ye?" It was four o'clock on a Saturday morning, Boston time.

"Just... a fire to put out," the blonde woman stumbled out, underlining the ASAP. "So, how was the meeting with the cake decorator?" Moira McTaggart was throwing literally the wedding of the decade for Rahne, one that could be expected from the adopted daughter of a Noble Prize winner and head of her clan, a best selling children's writer, and a member of Excalibur, Britain's mostly-mutant superhero team- combined. Even the Queen of England was attending.

Rahne sighed, remembering the event. Sam hadn't been able to attend, claiming something about a fishing trip with his brother, a time-traveling circus, and an alternative-universe Wolverine. The sad thing was it wasn't make-believe.

"A took Pete," she laughed. "Can ye believe he got full?"

Pete Wisdom's appetite was legendary. "Nope."

"There were around 300 samples– cakes, fillin', frostin', glazes, tortes, cheesecakes, and then ye had to think that each layer could have different tastes. Mum and A were worried that Pete would go inta sugar shock, but he finished each and every one of his bites."

"So what's the cake going to be?"

"Would ye believe A donna know? Pete wrote down something, the cake decorator complimented him on his splendid taste, and then showed me some volumes of pictures of cakes. When he started talking fountains, tiers, crystal columns, we both just kinda faded off. A would have just said let the wedding coordinator handle it, but A want something of Sam and me in this wedding."

It was sad to admit, but Rahne being stuck between wanting a small, simple wedding and Moira wanting to throw her adopted daughter a party that would be remembered fondly for years would be funny if Dr. McTaggart did not have the Legacy virus, which was fatal. It didn't make the events any less humorous, but the overcompensating had a bitter touch. "Finally, A saw this cake that was beautiful... all stars and candles, jist like when Sam asked me to marry him. The coordinator actually objected to it because it wasn't really muh colors!"

It was part of a bridesmaid's duties to listen to all the wedding details, Celeste reminded herself as she sat down in suede, overstuffed chair. The browns and blues in the very masculine Art Deco styled room matched Tony Stark, she thought, before turning back to the conversation, stifling a yawn. No matter how tired she was she still wanted to be there for her friend. "So what happened?"

"A threatened ta change muh colors," Rahne answered. "The coordinator, A swear she started to have fits, mutterin' somethin' about invitations and dresses and flowers. The cake decorator started talkin' about addin' flowers, and A dinnea wannea let him. Finally, the coordinator decided it would be alright if the sculpted figurines of Sam and me had the colors in the flowers, and if Sam's kilt was made out of the same colors."

It took a split second for that last part to register with the sleepy woman. "You're kidding, right? Sam may have bad fashion taste and wear spandex, but no way should he be forced to wear a peach and lavender kilt."

"Jist checking ta see if ye were awake." A much-needed sound of mirth was in the other woman's voice. "A ken it's hard ta be interested in all these details, but Kitty's almost ready tae pop, Amanda has the twins, Paige is a teenager, Li'l Bit is on the road, and it's hard to talk about weddings to Meggan without makin' her jealous, and A need ta vent if A'm going tae get through this without losin' it."

"I just had some stuff that I... had to stay on top of." Rahne did not know that Celeste was dating Tony Stark. "Fires to put out, staying atop..." her mind flashed back to earlier that night, and she felt a wicked blush pass over her. "All in a day's job for Frost's lackey."

On the other end of the phone, Rahne bit her tongue. Celeste hadn't been the same since the night that she and Tony Longhair took Ariel, Celeste's little sister, to rehab. Shortly thereafter, Tony had disappeared, with a confusing explanation that he was going to battle his demons, and asking Rahne to keep an eye on Celeste for him. Given Tony's underworld connections, Rahne had been worried enough to ask Pete Wisdom, a former spy, to check up on the man. Pete had reassured her that the man had not come to any harm, and would not if he used half the intelligence that he had been born with. All Rahne knew was something had happened to her friend that night, something that had wounded her deeply.

Celeste paused, wanting to tell Rahne about finding Tony, her best friend, most complicated relationship and a recovering alcoholic, in his apartment with another woman, smelling faintly of alcohol, on the night that Celeste realized that she loved him. But she kept silent, and wondered how much of that night had sparked her relationship with Tony Stark. They were both tall, dark, handsome electronic geniuses and recovering alcoholics. Maybe if Moira was guilty of overcompensating, then she was guilty of substituting one man for another. But, truthfully, she didn't want to know the answer to that question.

"I am a little tired," Celeste admitted. "And I've got the gala tonight..."

"What kind of gala?" Rahne asked, grateful for the change in topic. "And more importantly, what are ye wearin'?"

"Emma's foundation is throwing a gala– or she really wants Mrs. Hilton-Hurst to see the necklace that Emma won at an auction."

"A party ta show off a necklace?"

"A party to show off a 25 caret opal, once belonging to the deMedici family, in a setting of white diamonds with a total weight of 8 carets, hung on a silver, platinum, diamond and opal chain designed by some mucky-mucky who was really famous for his jewelry work. The necklace sold at auction for 4.8 million dollars last fall. Emma commissioned matching earrings and got them in last month." There was laughter in Celeste's voice, one of a woman well used to her boss's interest in historically powerful women. Emma Frost's Cleopatra collection had actually been loaned out to the Smithsonian, it was so impressive.

"Why doesn't she jist wear it and nothin' else?" Rahne asked stunned. It seemed almost too decadent to think of spending that much money on a necklace.

"It is going to be held at the Hellfire Club," Celeste said with a smile. "Anything goes there."

Rahne blushed, paused and repeated, "What are ye goin' ta wear?"

It was always difficult to dress for an event when Emma Frost was going to be there. Celeste was too smart to be more attractive than her boss, too pretty not to be noticed, and too competitive to fade into the background. Instead, she had learned to dress to flatter their differences. Her clothes tended to be more conservative, and more flattering of the curves she did have. And she had learned to have somebody else to blame if, by chance, somebody tried to make a big deal about how she and her boss were dressed. "Can you believe Emma actually recruited a dress designer to her old school so she could use her services in the future? She's designing something for me."

Emma Frost had once run the Massachusetts Academy, a prestigious school known for the grooming of leader's of tomorrow. It was also key to the HellFire Club, giving the Inner Circle a chance to shape the world's leaders according to the direction they wanted the world to go. After the death of the Hellions, Emma's answer to the New Mutants, the next generation of X-Men, the Academy had been shut down for a brief period of time, only to return as a variation of the New Mutants.

Rahne and Sam had both been a part of the New Mutants, and Rahne rolled her eyes. While Emma Frost had come a long way from the total ice queen she once had been, it was hard to forget the White Queen's old habits. "Figures."

From there, the phone call faded and the women said their goodbyes. Celeste slipped off the silky robe and slipped back into the bed. Before drifting back to sleep, she reflected on her question about substituting one Tony for another. She decided if she was, at least this Tony did not have the twisted history, convoluted relationships, or a man who claimed to be the offspring of a Norse deity for a friend. In fact, if it weren't for that bodyguard of his, and the need for one that he claimed, she could fool herself into thinking she had a normal man in her life– for once.

Life was best when it was slightly dull, she decided.