SUMMARY: Continuation of "In The Midnight Hour" in which Emma and Sean discover exactly why they have been dreaming interactive dreams.
DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to Marvel (at least for now.) Depending on how the bankruptcy thing goes, it could belong to someone else soon.
THANKS: Special thanks to Karen Burrows for being guinea pig and beta reader. Remaining mistakes are all mine 'cause I was to dense to remove them.
FEEDBACK: Send lots. Tell me what you liked, tell me what you hated, tell me it sucked wind and I need to go back to lurking. I can be reached at Melissa123@mindspring.com
The kitchen of the Massachusetts Academy for Gifted Children was chaotic at the best of times; the noise level alone would have sent most adults from the room. Two brave souls stood in the midst of this turmoil of cereal boxes, Poptarts and oatmeal; Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy, respectfully the Headmistress and Headmaster of the school. Currently these two were doing their best to maintain some kind of order while studiously avoiding each other's eyes. The odd dance they did around the table to keep each other on opposite sides went unnoticed by all the students, except one, who watched them intently as she nibbled one corner of her Poptart.
If she had learned nothing else from her time with Wolverine, she thought, it was ya gotta trust your gut. Right now her gut said that something was up between her two teachers, She couldn't put her finger on it but the last 2 weeks at the Academy didn't sit right. Something was going on and if there was one thing Jubilation Lee hated more than Mall Cops and Sentinels, it was a secret that she was not privy too.
Sean was feeling extremely uncomfortable this morning. He had been having the same erotic dream on and off again for the last couple of weeks. The dream was extremely disturbing in its intensity especially since Sean rarely remembered his dreams but this one he recalled in exquisite detail. He didn't even have to close his eyes to picture Emma in the white silk gown bathed in moonlight, he could still feel the weight of her in his arms as he carried her to her room, feel the satin of her skin as she arched beneath his hands.
He abruptly cut off his memories as he felt his body's unconscious response to his thoughts. God, what was the woman doing to him if just a dream was enough to make him lose his control; and lose it here in the kitchen, surrounded by his students. He risked a glance in her direction and felt the relief surge through him as she seemed unaware of his illicit thoughts. He felt a small shiver of misgiving, having illicit thoughts about a telepath could be very dangerous indeed.
Emma, however, was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to pick up on Sean's. She was currently wondering what Sean would look like laid out across the kitchen table. The assorted jars of honey, jelly and syrup were giving her some wonderfully sweet ideas. A small smile curved her lips as she lost herself in the fantasy until she spied Jubilee watching her intently. Jerking guiltily she focused her attention once again on Artie, Leech and Franklin and the mess they were making with the cereal.
Breakfast over, the team headed to the classroom for their first lesson of the day. Jubilee pulled Everett to one side as the class headed down the hallway.
"Ev, have you noticed anything weird going on between Frostbite and Sean?"
"No, not really. Why?"
"No reason. Just thought they were acting, ya know, weird."
"J, they're always acting weird. Come on, we've got one teacher who's a former X-Man and another who was the White Queen of the Hellfire Club. How much weirder do you want to get?"
She shot him a rude glance. "I suppose, but . . . oh, nevermind, it's probably nuthin'."
But it wasn't nothing and as the afternoon wore on, Jubilee became more and more convinced that something was going on between Emma and Sean, though she wasn't exactly sure what. The problem worried at her and even as she got ready for bed that night that worry persisted. Staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars she had stuck on her ceiling she tried to put her finger on what exactly was up with her two teachers. It had become an itch that begged to be scratched.
As she closed her eyes to sleep, dinner that night flashed before her eyes. This time she saw it; Sean had passed the salt to Emma. Her eyes snapped back open, a frown of concentration between her brows as she tried to remember Frosty asking for it. She would swear that Emma had not asked for the salt. Emma was a telepath, maybe she had telepathically asked Sean for the salt but Jubilee knew Sean didn't really like telepathic communications so she doubted Emma had asked that way. So the question remained, how did he know? Punching her pillow into a hopefully more comfortable lump, she sighed her frustration and tried to sleep.
In his room in the male dorm, Sean sat wearily on the edge of his bed. He scrubbed at his eyes, then ran his hands up through his hair. He was beat. Who would have ever have thought that 9 kids could wear a man out more than fighting the Juggernaut and the Blob combined. Yet, as much as he wanted to stretch out on the inviting bed beneath him, the fear of dreaming kept him sitting on the edge.
Emma stood in the middle of her room, watching the moon rise through the windows. Tonight that light did nothing to soothe her jangling nerves. It was getting to the point where she was afraid to sleep. She ignored the whispered comment from her subconscious that asked if she was agitated because she thought she might dream again or because she might not. It was one thing to fantasize during the light of day, entirely another to dream those dreams at night.
In the end, exhaustion overtook them both, their sleep dreamless and undisturbed.
*****
The next morning Jubilee situated herself at the best vantage point to observe both Emma and Sean. The most obvious thing was that both seemed better rested this morning and didn't try to avoid each other's company as much. She watched them closely but there was no more unusual behavior. In fact, the whole day was so normal that Jubilee began to doubt her own half-formed suspicions, until Emma fell.
Some forgotten toy from one of the little kids had been left on the stairs, a trap for the unlucky. Emma didn't even have time to cry out before she pitched forward down the rest of the flight of stairs to land in a motionless heap at the bottom. For a split second, the team was stunned, then with one of Wolvie's favorite curses, Jubilee leapt down the rest of the stairs to kneel beside the unconscious Emma.
Monet landed gently beside her on the landing then turned to Paige. "Paige, would you be good enough to go find Mr. Cassidy," she said, her voice calm and precise as always.
Paige turned to go but came to a startled halt as the front door flew open with a loud bang. Sean Cassidy stood there in the doorway, panic plain to read on his face.
Monet stepped aside as Sean knelt down. Running his fingers professionally over Emma's body, Sean did a quick check for injuries, wincing as he checked the large purpling bruise on her temple. Turning towards the boys, he gently gathered Emma's body up in his arms, "Everett, Angelo, would ye please go ahead and set up the Medlab for me?"
Paige, her accent a little stronger with worry, asked, "Sir, is Ms. Frost ok?"
"Sure, lass. She just took a bump to that hard head of hers." The worry on his face making a lie of the words.
Paige simply nodded, accepting that lie for now and followed Sean down the hall.
Jubilee still knelt on the landing as she watched the play of emotions on Sean's face as he shifted Emma's body higher up in his arms. For just a second, she saw something there that made her catch her breath, and then it was gone as Sean turned to head to the Medlab. She got up to follow, absently reaching to pick up the small block that Emma had stepped on and froze, her hand outstretched. Sean had come running from *outside* the house, he couldn't have heard the fall and Paige hadn't left yet and Emma herself was unconscious so how had he known that Frosty was injured? Her mind whirling with unanswerable questions, she got up to follow the others.
Classes for the rest of the day were canceled as Sean ran Emma through the diagnostic computers to make sure that she was all right after her fall. Telling the others that they could use the day to catch up on assignments or work out in the Danger Grotto, Sean retreated back to the MedLab to watch over his fellow teacher. Gen X found themselves in the recreation room of the school. Jono, Penance, Franklin, Artie and Leech were thoroughly absorbed in Mary Poppins, with Jono making disparaging remarks about the horrible accents. Paige and Angelo had begun another cutthroat game of Scrabble. Everett and M were both reading while Jubilee sat staring off into space.
"Hey Jubilee, you gonna eat that popcorn?"
"Huh? What??"
"You gonna eat that popcorn or just hold it in your lap?"
"No. No, go ahead. Here."
"What's wrong with you chica? You awfully quiet today?"
"Hmmm, nothing, just thinking, that's all."
Jono looked up from the movie, <<Gel, when you are thinking hard enough that the room is silent, the world at large had better beware.>>
"Very funny, Jono. Now if you will excuse me, I've got some homework to do." Jubilee got up off the couch and left the room, headed for the girl's dorm, the perfect picture of affronted dignity.
The others stared after her in stunned silence, even Monet looked up from her book to arch one perfect eyebrow at Jono in surprise.
"Did I hear Jubilation say homework?"
"Ya don't suppose she's sick do you?"
<<She's probably just hatching some nefarious plot . . . or something.>>
Jubilee wandered up to the room she shared with Paige, throwing herself down into the pile of clothes, uniforms and junk that she called her bed. She absently tossed a lone purple sock across the invisible line dividing Paige's immaculate side from her own comfortably lived-in mess. That lone purple sock had started out as a way to annoy Paige but it was a habit with them now. Jubilee would toss the sock, Paige would find it, roll her eyes and place it neatly back in one of her drawers, until the next time Jubilee felt the urge to toss the sock again. Right now she wished she had a few more purple socks to toss. The last time her curiosity was running this wild, she'd ended up following the X-Women through one of Gateway's portals and found herself in the Australian Outback.
She was missing something and she knew it, she just couldn't quite put her finger on it. Time to get her mind on something else, that sometimes helped. She looked over the pictures that hung on her wall, her favorite a picture of her and Logan after they had gotten into a mud fight in the front yard after a week of rain. By the time Jean had come out to take the picture, both of them were soaking wet and covered head to toe in mud. Even after being hosed down, Jean had insisted on enclosing them both in TK bubbles on their way to their bathrooms so they wouldn't track through the house. She smiled at the memory, even with the bad guys and the Brood and the hatred that surrounded them, the good times still outweighed the bad. She looked over the other pictures hanging there, all scenes from the happier times -- Hank acting silly at her birthday party, a group shot of everyone at the pool, another at one of the baseball games, more of Wolvie and a wedding photo of Jean and Scott.
"Oh my God!" She jumped up from the bed to grab the wedding photo off the wall. That was it! Emma and Sean were acting like Jean and Scott, except without the kissy noises. That thought brought her up short. Why would her teachers be acting like Jean and Scott? And what exactly was it about Jean and Scott that Emma and Sean were copying? There was more here, she knew it.
She threw herself back onto the bed, the framed picture in her hands held up over her head. She stared at it, what was it about Emma and Sean that reminded her of the new Mr. and Mrs. Summers? And then she remembered. Passing things the other wanted before they asked, occasionally finishing the others sentence, Jean blushing big time when Scott wasn't even in the room, and how Scott had known when Jean took a particularly nasty hit in a Danger Room session EVEN THOUGH HE HADN'T BEEN THERE. It was the telepathic relationship thingy. But Emma and Sean didn't have a relationship, telepathic or otherwise. Her eyes narrowed in concentration . . .or did they?
And if they did, why were they acting like they didn't know what was going on? Which led back to *did* they know what was going on? After some thought she realized they didn't know. Which was so ludicrous that she fell back on the bed, the laughter coming uncontrollably as the full magnitude of the situation hit her. The laughter subsiding to the occasional giggle she wondered if she should tell them. Then again, she could be wrong, maybe she ought to get some background first, which meant that a call to Jean was in order.
Considering the hour, she decided to call the boathouse rather than the main house. Scott answered on the second ring, "Hello."
"Hey, former fearless leader. It's Jubilee, can I talk to Jean?"
There was a second of silence as Scott tried to figure out why Jubilee would want to talk to Jean, "Hold on."
Jubilee could hear noise in the background and then Jean's voice asking who was on the phone. She could hear Scott faintly in answer, "Jubilee." Then, "I don't know, she wants to talk to you. Why does she do anything she does?"
Jubilee grinned into the receiver. Good, Scott needed a little uncertainty in his life.
"This is Jean."
"Hiya, Jean."
"Jubilee, what can I do for you?"
"I need to, like, ask you a couple of questions on telepathy, if you don't mind."
"Sure Jubilee. But, why don't you ask Emma?"
Oh oh, Jubilee thought fast, then smiled to herself as the answer came to her. "Well, its kind of like a school project, and since Emma is my teacher, you could say it sorta involves her. I figured I'd get another point of view, so to speak.
"OK. I'd be happy to help. What do you need to know?"
Thirty minutes later, Jubilee knew more about telepathy, its limits and most importantly, at least to her, a wealth of knowledge about the telepathic bond that can form between a telepath and someone they are very close to. Jubilee hung up the phone with her mind racing. She was going to have to test her theory and to do that she was going to need supplies. It was time to plan.
*****
Jubilee opened her eyes. The clock was showing a steady 1:30 am. Nothing moved in the room. She listened to Paige's deep even breathing from across the room for a few minutes before sliding quietly from beneath the covers. Making sure that Paige still slept undisturbed, she gathered her backpack of supplies and slipped quietly out the door.
Making her way out of the girl's dorm, she turned towards the guy's dorm. The travel made easier by the full moon, which cast the campus in stark relief around her. Stopping when she got to the electronic door of the dorm, she surveyed the electronic lock. The security plate that would read her thumbprint and mutant signature glowed faintly in the shadows of the doorway. She could open the door using her print but then she would leave a permanent record of her presence here in the school's security programs. While she wasn't *exactly* doing anything wrong, her own nature rebelled against leaving evidence behind.
Well, she thought, I need to keep my hands in practice anyway. Digging down into the backpack, she pulled out a soft black leather case, unzipping it she selected 2 gun metal gray lockpicks and removed them from the case. With a silent thanks to Gambit for the Sunday evening lessons, she set to work on the lock. Twenty minutes later she sat back on her heels with a sigh as the door swung open. Ok, so she wouldn't set any speed records or anything, but a few unadvertised backup skills never hurt anybody. Replacing the picks in the case she gathered up her things and headed to Sean's rooms.
She froze as she neared Sean's door and heard the voice talking softly from within. Damn, he was awake and talking to someone. She suppressed the urge to let off a few sparks in annoyance. He was supposed to be asleep. Who was he talking to at 2 o'clock in the morning anyway? Curiosity getting the better of her, she crept closer to see who he was talking to.
Jubilee contained her sigh of relief as she peered into the room. He was only talking in his sleep. Sean was slouched comfortably down in an oversized armchair. The open book in his lap explaining why the lights were still on. Good, she was afraid with him awake she would have had to do this another night. She noticed that Sean's hands were moving restlessly over the arms of the chair and he seemed to be whispering something. She edged forward a little more to try to make out what he was saying.
"Ohh, God. . . Emma . . .that feels . . ."
Whoa!! She backed hastily out of the room. That wasn't anything she wanted to be hearing about her teacher. Not, she told herself, that if wasn't anything she didn't know already, but some things about your teachers you just don't want to know. Thankfully no one was around to see the fierce blush that stained her cheeks.
Once safely back outside Sean's door, she set to work. Not, she thought, that any noise she made was going to pull him out of that particular dream. Sitting the backpack down she dug around in it until she pulled out a small wireless speaker roughly the size and shape of an external computer speaker. Positioning it carefully outside of Sean's door she tried to ignore the faint moans coming from the other side. The strangled shout from within startled her so bad she almost let out a small scream in reflex. Reminding herself that she had a job to do and that eavesdropping wasn't nice she gathered up her things and headed out to the main house and Emma Frost's rooms.
The setup of the small speaker outside of Emma's rooms went smoothly and by 3:00 she found herself in the control room for the school's security system. While she had never had much reason to be in here it was set up much the same way that the Mansion's security control room was laid out. She'd had no trouble earlier locating the device of Forge's that Jean had told her about that disrupted telepathic communications. Forge had installed the device here and at Xavier's to confuse any attackers that were using telepathic communications. It didn't harm a telepath that was just shielded but if a telepath was in active communication with anyone it set up a feedback loop and caused splitting headaches. It had only been used once at the Mansion before Jean had it removed. While it worked admirably well at disabling active telepathic communications, it didn't discriminate between the active and the passive. It had picked up on the telepathic bond she shared with Scott, and the resulting headaches she and Scott had shared had lasted for hours.
The device was the perfect way to test her theory. The only problem with it was that Emma didn't want to take a chance with anything that affected telepathic powers especially since telepathy was the only means of communication for Jono. She had never had the device wired into the school's sound system. With a little improvisation, Jubilee had come up with the small portable speakers. They were limited in what they could do but she thought that it should work. All she really needed was just a little reaction to prove her theory.
Sitting down at the main control panel she tuned in the monitors covering the main house and the boy's dorm. Everything set, she flipped the small switch and waited. Disappointment hit when nothing seemed to happen. Then very faintly from across the campus she heard Sean's sonic scream. On the viewer in front of her the glass windows of the boy's dorm seemed to shiver and then they shattered into a billion pieces.
She had just enough time to whisper "Oh, shit" before the lens in the surveillance camera shattered and the picture went black.
Scrabbling to shut the device off, she flipped the switch, grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. Her first thought was to run like hell and get back in her bed before anyone suspected her. Her second thought of even if she could be found sound asleep in her bed, Emma and Sean would still suspect her, slowed her down. Her third thought brought her to a stand-still. Wolvie wouldn't run. She sighed and turned back towards the control room. Slinging her pack into the corner she settled back down into the chair and made herself comfortable. Looking down at her watch, she gave her teachers 20 minutes to find her; they made it in ten.
Sean was tousled looking wearing nothing but boxers and an old robe. She noticed that the robe had come undone and the tie belt was trailing one end on the floor behind him. Emma on the other hand was looking like a model out of Victoria's Secret catalogue. In fact, Jubilee noted, as Emma entered the room in a long white silk gown, Sean looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. But Emma seemed oblivious to Sean's reaction as she pulled on the matching silk robe.
Well, Jubilee thought, might as well get it over with. Knowing she was choosing the more dangerous of the two, but really seeing no other way, Jubilee sent up a small prayer and asked Sean if she could speak to Emma alone for a minute.
Sean hesitated, the indecision plain to read in his tense body language.
Emma made a disgusted noise low in her throat and swung the stare she was currently pinning Jubilee with around to Sean. "I'm not going to kill her. You can leave us alone."
Jubilee privately wondered about that killing part but wisely kept her mouth closed.
Sean met that hostile stare without flinching, then seemed to come to some internal decision. "Very well. I'm going to find some aspirin. I'll bring you some."
Knowing her situation was pretty precarious, Jubilee tried to hide the smile that threatened to escape at this final conformation of her theory.
Emma just nodded, not even wondering how Sean had known she needed something for her headache. Giving one more hard look at the two of them, Sean left them alone.
"Talk."
"Well, ya know, I figured, like, it wasn't my place to tell Sean. Figured you might want to or at least get maybe Jean to explain it."
"Jubilee, what are you babbling about?"
"Ya mean ya still don't know?"
"Jubilee, I am quickly losing what little patience I have left."
"Oh." She indicated one of the chairs in the room, "You might want to sit down."
So she told Emma about the odd behavior, about the finished sentences, about the passing of the salt, she explained about Emma's fall and then she explained about the call to Jean and finally about Forge's device. Through the entire recital, Emma remained silent, not a flicker of emotion betraying her true feelings.
"Considering that you are the initiator, as it were, I thought maybe you should tell him."
As Jubilee watched, Emma's mask slipped just a moment. Jubilee thought she saw something like fear but she wasn't sure. It was gone in a flash, once again replaced by icy calm.
"Go to bed, Jubilation. I will talk to Sean," She turned and walked out of the room.
Jubilee sat in her chair feeling the relief wash through her. That was it? All that worry and it was just 'Go to bed, Jubilation?' Snorting her disbelief, she climbed wearily to her feet and grabbed the backpack. She didn't even thank me for telling her.
The next morning Generation X appeared for breakfast to find a
note sitting on the table.
MAKE SURE THE LITTLE KIDS HAVE BREAKFAST. DO YOUR HOMEWORK. DO NOT LEAVE SCHOOL GROUNDS. EMMA AND I WILL BE AT XAVIER'S.Pointing to the note on the table, Jono asked the question they were all wondering. <<WONDER WOT THAT'S ALL ABOUT.>>
SEAN
"Don't know, amigo. You suppose it has anything to do with whatever set Banshee off last night? Man, there is glass everywhere in the dorm."
Monet noticed Jubilee standing silent, a big grin on her face. "Jubilee, do you know what is going on?"
"Who me? I don't know a thing."
*****
Jean was feeling extremely uncomfortable as she stood in front of Sean. She was uncertain exactly how to explain this without upsetting Sean even more. Emma had been much easier. They simply went to the astral plane and looked. The other telepath had immediately understood the consequences but Sean wasn't a telepath. In fact, Sean had a very distinct distrust of telepathic abilities. It wasn't going to be easy to explain this to him. Jean really wished that Emma would explain it but she had agreed with Emma's logic that Sean would initially be more willing to listen to her, as an old friend. But that didn't mean she had to like it.
"Sean, I believe I know the answer to what has been happening between you and Emma."
The relief on his face sent a stab of guilt through Jean. No, this definitely wasn't going to be easy. "Good, lass. I was beginning to get a mite concerned with you looking so worried there. So, what's the problem?"
In the end she could fine no easy words and she went for the simple approach. "Sean, Emma was unsure but I've confirmed it. You and Emma have a telepathic bond between you."
"Ach, is that all," he answered around the big grin that split his face. "Well, just call in Emma and the lass can break the link."
Jean shook her head, "No, Sean, you don't understand. It's not a telepathic link but a telepathic bond." She paused for just a second, "Like the one between myself and Scott."
Sean went still. In a very quiet voice he asked, "What are ye saying, Jean?"
Jean found that she couldn't meet the raging turmoil in his eyes. "It seems that subconsciously Emma has forged a bond between the two of you."
"Are ye saying that she's controlling me?"
"No," she was quick to answer, hoping to still those particular fears. "It is nothing like that. It's more . . . I guess subtle would be the word. A telepath can set up a link with a non-telepath to send and receive surface thoughts but usually not more than that. . . "
"Battle communications," Sean interrupted her.
"Exactly. But the bond is different. It's on a much deeper level. More desires and feeling and . . . "
"Dreams." A statement not a question, in a voice that held anger and something else that defied description.
Jean heard the odd note in his voice but since neither Sean or Emma has confessed to the dreams they had been having, Jean was unaware of the significance.
"Well, yes. It could affect the dream state. Scott and I on occasion have shared bits of each other dreams but usually we can tell when the dream belongs to the other." She made a vague gesture toward her eyes, "The perspective is usually off a bit."
"Break it," his voice hard, the lilting Irish accent flat and unemotional.
"What?!?"
"I said, break it."
"Sean, I can't."
"That's ridiculous. Of course ye can. Yer one of the most powerful telepaths on the planet and with Charles gone certainly the most well trained."
"It isn't that easy, Sean."
"Why?" The emotions held barely in check making the question almost into a shout.
"Please, Sean, calm down and let me explain. Getting upset isn't going to help matters any and your agitation is just going to be transmitted to Emma and upset her.
"Upset Emma? Are ye daft, woman. I want to upset Emma. She did this to me."
"Sean, please. Let me try to explain."
"Fine, explain."
"On the astral plane a bond takes physical form, like a silver cord, linking one psychic manifestation, one soul if you will, to another. Time increases its strength. It weaves in and around itself, forging new links between the recipients as time passes. In its early stages, yes, it might have been possible to sever it but not now, Sean. Now, the only thing that will sever that bond is the death of either you or Emma."
Sean had quit pacing to sit back down in the chair. She could see the tension in the hard muscles of his shoulders and in the tight clasp of his hands beneath his chin. His eyes were closed as if in prayer. She wished for just a minute that she could read his mind or at least sense his feelings, but even if she had given in to that urge his mind was locked tight, his mental barriers in place. She reached out to place a hesitant hand on his shoulder.
"Sean, it may not mean much to you right now but Emma didn't know. I don't think she even knew she was capable of creating this particular bond. Being self trained, her telepathy has taken some unusual routes. She is in as much turmoil as you right now. I know that you and Emma don't have a particularly good relationship, that you don't particularly like or even trust her but this wasn't deliberate on her part.
Sean was in agony. All he heard was Jean saying "you don't particularly like her or trust her" but then Jean didn't know the whole truth. The X-Men weren't at the Academy every day. They didn't see the changes in Emma. They didn't know how his feelings for her had changed as he had watched her change from the icy White Queen of the Hellfire Club to the woman to read bedtime stories to Artie, Leech and Franklin when she thought no one was around to hear. The problem wasn't that he didn't like Emma, the problem was he liked Emma a whole lot more than he should.
With his eyes still closed he heard Jean stand up and walk across the room to the door. "Emma wanted to talk with you after I told you. Will you talk to her?"
He still couldn't trust himself to speak just yet, so he simply nodded his head. He heard her exit the room.
Emma opened the door. Even without that sound, he would have known when she entered the room. Now that he understood the whys of that knowledge, he found that with just a thought he could *feel* her presence. He suspected that she was even more tightly shielded than he was, but he could still feel her presence, her aliveness across the room. He shuddered. That feeling could quickly become addictive. It was a feeling that could sweep a man's soul away.
"Sean?" she said, her voice uncharacterically hesitant.
"Ye dinnae mention the dreams to Jean."
For a second iciness crept into her tones, "It was not her concern." A pause, then more softly, "Neither did you."
Sean was silent and still unmoving. Emma paused, marshaling her thoughts, "Sean, the bond isn't a telepathic open door. Yes, it does make it easier for me to communicate telepathically with you. I could probably track you anywhere in the world through the bond now, but your mind is still your own. The dream was unconscious desires; desires that neither of us would have acted on during the light of day. Just because it is out in the open doesn't mean we have to act on it now."
His head snapped up. "Yer damned right, we won't be acting on it! God knows how I'm going to be explaining this to Moira."
"What the hell does Moira have to do with it?"
"You know perfectly well that Moira and I . . ."
"Oh, wake up Sean." The disgust evident in her scathing tones. "Moira isn't interested in you anymore. She hasn't been for some time now."
"That's nae true and you know nothing about it."
"Don't I? The question I think is, don't you? I think you've known for a while but that damn Legacy Virus has every one tiptoeing around her."
"Nae! Shut up Emma."
"I'm sorry she's sick, and I feel for the battle she's fighting but she let you go a long time ago. You can't admit it or you won't admit it but . . ."
His voice had taken on a dark deadly edge, "Shut up, ye witch. Ye know nuthin' about me relationship with Moira. Just leave me alone." Slamming the door behind him, he stormed from the room.
"Damn." Shaking her head, she address the empty room, "Well, that went better than I expected." Fighting the urge to just plunge into his mind and *make* him listen, she gave an exasperated sigh and went after him.
But Sean had lived a number of years at the Mansion. Emma was still new to the vast house with its above and below ground levels not to mention the extensive grounds surrounding the place. Sean was able to elude her, even though the bond told her he was nearby, and she finally gave up her search when she chanced across what looked to be a seldom used "public" room of the house. It was done in an early Victorian style that bespoke class and femininity. She doubted that anyone would bother her here. It would be the perfect hideaway for her own troubled thoughts about herself and Sean and this new twist to their already complicated relationship.
She hated feeling this unsure of herself. Emma Frost was a powerful businesswoman, she made a decision and then implemented it and she almost always got what she wanted. The problem she decided was she didn't know what she wanted anymore. Sure, she wanted Sean but did she want him permanently. As silly as it sounded, Sean was old-fashioned in many ways. His sense of honor prevented him from being the one-night stand, love `em and leave `em type. The problem was she had always been that type. It was safer. She didn't have to worry about her emotions or her heart. She didn't like being unsure. Didn't like it one bit.
The pungent smell of fine tobacco declared his presence in the room behind her. She turned to face him, not surprised that no betraying noise had alerted her. Booted feet crossed at the ankles, he stood leaning against the door jam of the parlor in a pose of relaxation. She knew better. The most dangerous predators never truly let down their guard.
"Evenin' Emma."
"Logan."
She marveled anew as he sauntered into the room that her youngest student Jubilee had tamed this man's heart. Having read the files on Jubilee's first meeting with Logan in Australia, she wondered again if it wasn't simply a retelling of the old story of Androceles and the Lion.
Logan sat carefully on one of the dainty parlor chairs. He hated this room with its delicate and lady-like furniture. He always felt like an ox in here, afraid he was going to break something. But this needed doing and if he had to endure florals and lace; well he was an X-Man, he could handle anything.
She watched as he sat gingerly down on one of the chairs. She knew what he wanted to talk about. Granted, she and Sean had come in confidence to Jean and Jean would honor that silence but Logan had another source in Jubilee. Emma cringed inside at the thought of Jubilee spreading the knowledge of this to the other Gen X students. Knowing the speed at which gossip flew, she knew that within days every member of the various X-Teams would know about her and Sean. She was unconcerned for herself, she had been living in the glare of other's disapproval for a long time now, but she felt for Sean. He was a private man and having others, even those he considered friends and family, know about their problem was going to be deeply embarrassing for him.
"What can I do for you, Logan?"
"Jubilee told me about your problem."
"Did she?"
"Don't bristle at me. She told me, but you and Sean don't have to worry about her telling the world."
She looked uncomfortable for a minute and then murmured, "Thank you for asking Jubilee to remain silent on this."
He laughed, the cigar still clenched between his teeth. "Ain't my doing, Emma. Jubilee, she's got a ninety mile-an-hour mouth on her but she can hold a secret when she wants to."
In spite of herself, Emma's curiosity was raised, "Considering the tensions between Jubilee and myself, why would she wish to?"
He shrugged, "The kid's more complicated than most give her credit for. And while she'll deny it till her dying breath, she's also got a real deep romantic streak under all that indifferent bluster."
She swallowed hard but managed to keep her voice emotionless and detached. "This mess is hardly romantic."
He cocked an eyebrow at her but remained silent. From the blush that had lit up Jubilee face when she mentioned that Sean had been talking in his sleep the other night, he figured that there was a little more romance involved than Emma wanted to admit too.
"Well, she seems to think that it's romantic. But that ain't why I'm here. I'm concerned about Irish. What you two are doing or not doing is yer own business. But Irish and I go way and back and right now he's beating himself up pretty bad."
"I have tried but he won't talk to me."
"Then make him talk." The distinctive *SNICK* of Logan's claws popping filled the room. "I've always found kicking a little sense into stubborn heads works fairly well."
"I don't think a fist fight is the answer."
He shrugged again and took a deep pull on the cigar. "Suit yerself." He got up out of the chair and headed for the door.
She continued to sit after Logan left, a thoughtful expression on her face. And then she made her decision on what she really wanted. With that decision made, she smiled; a particularly delighted and evil smile. "No, Logan, not exactly a fist fight."
*****
It had been his favorite spot when he lived at the Mansion. A gentle hillside overlooking a small lake. It was secluded and private and had often given Sean a place to sort through his thoughts when he needed the privacy that the main house didn't offer with its many people coming and going. He wasn't surprised that he wound up here on this embankment once again. If he ever had need of a quiet place to think it was definitely now.
Sean was beginning to wonder what fates he had offended in his life to warrant this punishment. It wasn't like he had been gifted with an easy life, but being forever bound to Emma Frost, even on a subconscious level seemed to him to be a greater penalty than he deserved. But the traitorous part of his mind was back, whispering that it might not be so bad a thing. He knew she was right about Moira, no matter how much that hurt. It was a realization that he had not wanted to make. But even without the added complication of his relationship with Moira, there was still his attraction to Emma herself to deal with. Even in the midst of this mess, the desire for her was still burning strong. He was very afraid that the feelings he had for her were just short-lived desire and lust. What would it be like to be bonded to Emma once that desire died? On the other hand, he found he was even more afraid of what would happen if the feelings were true. What if they didn't die? What if they were real?
He dropped his head back into his hands. There was no doubt about it, he had definitely offended someone, maybe even several someones.
He knew the minute she walked over the hill, though his back was to her. Jean had explained that this extra sensitivity to the bond now that he knew it was there was normal and that the raw power would fade with time to what Jean had defined as a "mellow glow." Right now, however, the feelings that coiled through him were still to strong for him to deal with Emma right now.
"Go back to the house, Emma." The anger making his voice harsh, even to his own ears.
"No. You are still angry."
"Fine. I'm angry. I'll get over it. Now go back to the house."
"I don't think so."
For the first time since she had intruded on his solitude he swung around to face her, the anger blazing up in his eyes, but whatever he had been about to say died unborn at her appearance. Emma Frost had come dressed for battle.
He found himself looking up at the White Queen, her face expressionless, her eyes chips of blue ice. The white leather thigh boots emphasizing her long legs, the kevlar laced corset accentuating the curves of her body. She was even wearing a long white cape that swirled around her calves in the slight breeze. Her outfit was designed to distract, to focus attention on something else beside the intelligence and danger in those icy blue eyes. He was no exception to that distraction. He felt the stirring in his body as she stood defiant before him, though he didn't make the mistake of underestimating this woman. He had become better recently at understanding her motivations, but with her expression betraying nothing of her thoughts or feeling, he found himself at a loss.
"Emma, what are ye doin'?"
"Applying something an old enemy but new ally suggested."
"I don't know what game yer playing, but I'll not be joinin' in."
She smiled. "You don't have a choice."
Whatever else he might have said was lost in his cry of disbelief as Emma let loose with a kick designed to shatter ribs. Only battle trained and honed instincts kept him from the full brunt of the blow as he threw himself down the small embankment. He rose up in a defensive crouch, the shock still evident on his face.
He barely had a chance to gasp out a surprised, "Emma!?!" before she dropped the cloak and launched herself at him.
The part of him that couldn't believe she was doing this kept him rooted to the spot, unprepared for the fury of her attack. He didn't even put up his hands in defense. As her charge brought her past him, she swung a roundhouse punch that connected solidly with his chin. He staggered under the blow. Feeling the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth he reached up a hand in disbelief. The sight of the dark drop of blood glistening on his fingertip shook something deep inside of him.
He could almost hear an audible snap and for a moment he wondered he Emma heard it too. The conflicting emotions that had besieged him these last couple of weeks all came boiling to the surface and the calm he worked so hard to maintain shattered. Betrayal, love, loss, lust, fear, loneliness, desire, all were contained in that single ruby drop.
She was stood waiting for the storm. Legs braced against what she knew was coming, she took deep breaths, her chest rising and falling with each gasp. She could feel her hands nervously clenching and unclenching at her sides, waiting for his response.
"Ye crazy bitch!"
She laughed, as much from the stunned expression on his face as from the excitement of the fight. She hadn't had this much fun in ages. Turning, she laughed at him again and kicked out with one booted heel. But he was ready this time. He caught the kick, holding her balanced for a split second, then he swung her leg wildly in the other direction. As she lurched back to catch her balance, he moved forward, the heel of one hand driving into her chest to knock the wind from her. Overbalanced, she started to fall, but Sean reached out a hand to grab her wrist and brought her up short.
She was gasping for breath from his blow but still she fought against him. Fighting to free her arm from his grasp she twisted and pulled until she was turned enough to rake her nails down the side of his face and neck. He released her as she aimed for his eyes.
That was it. "Enough, Emma!"
She had the gall to laugh at him again. "I don't think I'm quite done yet."
"And I say ye are!"
Before she could step aside, he grabbed her, pulling her in close to his body. He wrapped his arms around her, pining her arms down to her sides. She went still in his embrace and hung her head, her breath coming in quick pants. With a electric shock that burned along his nerves, he realized he could feel the warm press of her breasts tight against his arms. He held her tight for a another minute but she remained limp.
"Emma?"
"Yes?" she answered calmly.
He sighed in relief. Whatever had possessed her seemed to have passed. He relaxed his hold somewhat, but still kept her imprisoned within the circle of his arms. He shivered as she rubbed one soft cheek against his upper arm.
"Sean?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
And while his brain was still trying to figure out that last comment he felt his foot explode in pain as she drove a boot heel into his instep. Letting out a strangled scream of pain, Sean tried to hop back on his uninjured foot while maintaining his grasp on the squirming Emma. While holding up his throbbing foot, her wriggling set him off balance and they started to topple over. Emma let out an aborted yelp as she felt herself falling and Sean twisted his body in mid-air to land heavily on his shoulder so as not to crush her beneath him. They lay stunned in the grass for a second. Then feeling her attempt to break his grasp once again he rolled with her still in his arms until she was pinned under him, his larger weight holding her down.
His body stretched out across her legs, preventing her from kicking out at him again. His large hands held hers to the ground on either side of her head. He was breathing hard now, his warm breath fanning out across her cheek. She wondered if he realized that one thumb was sensuously caressing the open palm of her right hand. Testing his weight, she shifted beneath him and she felt him stiffen above her. She thought she could tell the instant the anger turned to passion, even without the delicious rush that poured down the bond. She gazed up into the darkening eyes hanging so close above her own and thought no one knew better than a telepath how close together anger and passion were in the human psyche, but she was about to show him.
She felt exquisite beneath him, the curves of her body fitting snugly against his own. He took a deep breath and nearly groaned aloud as the half remembered scent of vanilla and jasmine entwined about his senses bringing remembrances of the dream. He felt her shift again beneath him, arching her body up against his.
He couldn't seem to control himself as he lowered his head down to hers to claim one single burning kiss. He half expected her to bite him and was surprised when she returned the kiss with hunger of her own. Lifting his head he stared down into her eyes seeing the desire raging there and also the triumph. Remembering his thought from the dream that Emma would never let anything that she claimed as hers drift away, he realized what that triumph meant.
"Ye planned this!" His voice full of shock.
Her smile was wicked, "Yes, I did. Do you really think I would engage in a fair fight?" He could hear the amusement in her voice.
Only then did it occur to him that she had fought him physically, never once using her mental abilities, even though he now knew that due to that damnable bond she had access past his shields. She could have fried his mind at any moment.
"Why?" though he knew the answer before she spoke.
"Because you are mine," came back to him, whispered with all the fierceness of someone who has found something long lost.
"Damn you," he whispered as he lowered his head back to her lips. Just before he claimed them in another kiss he heard her answer, "Probably."
This kiss was nothing like the dream kiss. That one had been tender, passionate, and just a bit hesitant. This kiss held nothing in common. It was hard, brutal and hungry; where the dream kiss had seduced, this one demanded.
He let go of her wrists to bury his fingers in her fair hair, pulling her head back to expose the white column of her throat to his questing tongue and lips. Letting go of her hair with one hand long enough to encircle one slim leather-clad ankle he slid his hand up the boot encased thigh. He felt her jerk when his questing fingers found the firm flesh above the boot top.
She managed to gasp out "The zippers are on the inside," only to fall silent when he leaned close to her ear to whisper, "Leave 'em on."
She smiled that wicked smile again. Then hooking one leg over his, she twisted and rolled until now she lay on top of him.
She leaned back into a kneeling position above him, her hands braced on the broad chest beneath her. She remembered the feel of the smooth muscles beneath her fingertips from the dream. It was time to find out how reality compared to that nighttime fantasy. Leaning forward she ran her tongue along his strong jaw, stopping to graze his ear lobe with her teeth while her fingers pulled the tail of his jersey shirt out of his waistband.
They were both moving with an urgency that had been missing in the dream, where it had been slow and languid, this was almost fever-pitched.
Pushing the shirt up over his head, she growled low in her throat with impatience as she struggled to get it free of his arms. Raking her nails down his chest, she watched through slitted eyes as Sean threw his head back at the sensations.
She leaned forward to kiss him, running her tongue along the edge of his teeth, plunging her tongue deep into his mouth. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, holding his head still as she sucked and nibbled on his lower lip. She felt his hands on her back fingering the fasteners on her top. Leaning back suddenly she sat back on her heels. They were both breathing fast, trying to catch their breaths. Reaching behind her, she released the tabs that held her top. Shrugging out of the confining material, she tossed it casually to the side and lifted her arms wide in a sensuous stretch that made Sean catch his breath beneath her. Lifting his hands from where they had been kneading the firm flesh of her thighs above the smooth leather of her boots, he placed his hands lightly on her collarbone, tracing the delicate bones beneath her warm skin with a featherlight tough. He watched her face as he traced lightly down her arms and back up again as if he was outlining her with his fingertips.
Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed to better concentrate on the sensation of his warm fingers running over her exposed skin. Sighing with the pleasure of his touch she opened her eyes to meet his. Looking down into dilated eyes, she silently cursed herself for what she was about to say.
Reaching out one hand, she traced the edge of one cheekbone. "I told you in the dream it was your decision; a choice made freely and of your own will. I have *pushed* you this far but I want no regrets, Sean."
He caught the vulnerability in her expression. He knew that she was afraid that he would take this escape her sense of honor was giving him but he realized that sometime during their fight he had made a decision.
He ran his hands back up her arms, feeling the tiny tremors that move produced. "No regrets, Emma."
Her smile showed relief and a hint of something deeper that neither one was ready to explore just yet. "Then we have some unfinished business. Shall we pick up where we left off?"
"Nae. I have something a little different in mind." She couldn't quite suppress the shiver that went through her at his words.
Sean sat up, pushing Emma gently to one side. Getting shakily to his feet he walked over to where Emma's cloak lay crumpled on the ground. Picking it up he gave it a careful shake and spread it out on the ground. He caught her eyes and held them with the strength of his gaze. Then very deliberately he kicked off his moccasins and undid the buttons of his jeans. She unconsciously licked suddenly dry lips as she watched him peel off the tight confining jeans and boxers until he stood naked before her. Still holding her eyes, he knelt on one edge of the cloak, holding out his hand, palm up, to her in invitation. She could see it all in his eyes -- dare, taunt, risk, challenge. She felt her body's response to that look and climbed to her feet. Walking over to where he knelt she reached out to take his hand.
She was unprepared when he jerked down on her arm, pulling her roughly to the ground. She looked up at him in surprise as she lay on her back. He moved quickly to kneel over her, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders.
"Ye like being in charge don't ye?"
"Yes. I do."
"Well, not tonight. His voice dropped lower, the smooth Irish accent like warm velvet against her nerves. "Tonight, I'm in command."
Trying to keep her voice steady she retorted, "Command? And if I mutiny?"
He chuckled, the sound sending tingles racing down her spine. "I don't think ye will."
He bent his head to kiss her again. She strained to lift herself upwards to reach him. Deepening the kiss, he applied more pressure, opening his mouth above hers. When his tongue sought entrance, she opened her mouth to receive it. He explored her lips, the roof of her mouth, and under her tongue. Then his lips traced her jaw and across to her ear, were he breathed a warm breath into it, feeling her shudder at the contact.
Then very gently, almost quietly, he felt that newly identified connection between him and Emma open. For the briefest of moments, he *was* Emma. He felt her yearning, her passion, and her desire for him. He pulled back in surprise.
"Emma?" His voice full of surprise.
She slowly opened her eyes to look up at him. "Yes?"
"I can *feel* you. What ye're feeling."
She laughed softly. "That is the bond."
He traced a hand down her side, feeling her delight in his touch. "My god, I didnae realize."
"No regrets?"
"No regrets." He bent back down again to cover her throat with kisses and to run his questing tongue down the sensitive nerve along her neck. When he returned to her mouth again, she was shivering beneath him. Continuing that kiss he ran his hands down her hips, hooking his fingers into the waist of the remainder of her uniform. With one smooth tug he lowered the garment down her legs and tossed it onto the pile of his own clothes. The sight of her stretched out beneath him took his breath away and caused the pulsing in his erect member to beat faster. He wanted nothing more than to plunge into her warmth, to seek relief from the frustrations that weeks of erotic dreams had left him with. And yet at the same time wanting, needing, to give her pleasure in return.
He kissed her fiercely then, burying his face in her neck and sucking warmth to the surface. Breathing hard, he backed off and saw the red mark he had made; surprising himself with the dark desire to mark her somehow as his. He took a deep breath, reaching for some control.
Caressing the side of her body with one hand, he felt the fullness of her breast, the dip of her waist, the smooth curve of her hip, and the taunt muscle of her thigh above the leather boots she still wore. She quivered under his touch. His hand brushed the pale blonde curls of her mound, and across her stomach up to the tip of one swelling breast. He felt her nipple harden in his palm.
Emma tried to lay still but she was on fire where he touched her. She felt as though she had been waiting forever for something she could not name, but which the man kneeling above her could give. His eyes alone could see inside her, his touch could breach the barriers she'd placed around her soul and bring those walls tumbling down.
He wanted to know all of her. He kissed her forehead, sweeping her hair away from her face. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. He nibbled again on her earlobe, then sucked it into his hot mouth. His sensitive hands explored her, outlined her, traced the contours of her body from shoulder to knee. He lifted one arm and brought her hand to his lips. He placed a single kiss in the palm of her hand and then kissed each delicate fingertip. And then he started over, sucking in each finger and swirling his tongue over the sensitive pads.
Her eyes were closed in enjoyment, her breathing harsh as she gave in to her body's responses.
His tongue found her breasts and curved underneath one and then the other. He drew decreasing circles with his tongue until he reached the tip. Emma gasped as he drew it into the heat of his mouth. He felt her response through the bond and was surprised at the answering flush of heat that traveled back down his own body. He sucked gently at first but increased the pull when she arched up into him with a soft moan.
His hand caressed her stomach, her hip, her legs, then reached for her inner thigh. The firm muscles rippled as she tensed, then opened to his questing fingers.
His mouth left her nipple and his kissed his way down her flat stomach, sliding his body down the length of hers. He kissed the top of her mound, then looked back up at her across the taunt plane of her stomach. She was tensed in anticipation, her back arched, her fingers clenched into the folds of the cloak beneath them.
When his tongue found the top of her narrow slot, she sprang up with a cry, the lay back down again with a moan that might have been his name.
He spread her folds and took a long, loving taste. Emma lost herself in the exquisite flood of sensation that coursed through her body as his tongue explored every inch of her. Sean concentrated on keeping his own growing need in check as he found her small center of delight and flicked it rapidly with the tip of his tongue. He teased her with his lips, his hands tight on her thighs, his thumbs stroking along the insides of her thighs in rhythm to the movements of his tongue. She bucked beneath his mouth, he moved his hands to firmly grasp her hips, holding her tight. He started to hum, low in his throat, using the gift that made him a mutant; the ability to create and manipulate sonic waves. But this particular application was nothing that Charles Xavier had ever taught him. Pitching the sonic waves in the deep bass range he focused and narrowed the waves until they were focused on one very specific and sensitive part of Emma's anatomy. For one brief second, Emma went rigid beneath him and then she screamed and convulsed as the waves of ecstasy poured through her. Clutching tight to the writhing Emma, Sean held on, riding out her passion until only small tremors shook her body.
Her heart was pounding; she was panting as though she had been running, and she tried to slow her gasping breaths. Still feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm running through her body, she opened her eyes to see Sean once again kneeling over her, a somewhat smug grin on his face.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself she ran her hands up his chest and across the thick muscles of his shoulders. Threading her fingers into silky hair at the nape of his neck she pulled him down to her. Placing a soft kiss on his lips, she whispered, "Thank you." And then feeling through the bond his own still burning need she deepened the kiss, pulling his unresisting body down to hers.
Sensing how close he was to his own edge she rolled them until she lay on top of him. Rising up she moved one leg up and over until she straddled him. She watched him smile as he grasped her leather clad ankles. Reaching down she grasped his erection, running her fingers along the smooth hardness of him; delighting in his indrawn breath as she rubbed her thumb over the head. He was close now and she positioned him and slowly impaled herself on his fully extended length. Drawing him inch by inch into her, she arched her back, feeling her own pleasure, as well as his, as he penetrated deep.
Looking up he gloried in the sight to her. The moon over one of her shoulders cast a glow around her and in that instant he could almost believe he was back in the dream. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly and her face was filled with passion. As she leaned back, her breasts were thrust forward, her rose-colored nipples pointing out. Her sleek body glistened in the moonlight. Then she moved and the pleasure shot through him and knew that this was no dream. Emma's body was a warm weight upon his and her body sheathed his in a tight, hot embrace. He felt sure he was going to lose his mind as she tightened her inner muscles and raised up along his shaft.
She released her muscles as she slid back down and he let out a groan. She raised up again and as she came back down he raised his hips to meet her. She leaned forward, balancing her hands on his chest as she rocked her hips above him. He felt a hot surge within him and cried out as she rose again. She pushed hard against him, then felt his shuddering release beneath her.
He pulled her down to him, holding her close to his chest. She slid to one side, pillowing her head on his shoulder, listening to his heart slowly calming beneath her.
Fighting the drowsiness that was quickly overtaking her, she spoke first. "You know this will not be easy."
"Aye, I know."
She rose up on one elbow to look down into his face. Her tone fierce, she said, "I won't be an extension of you. I'll oppose you if I think you're wrong."
He opened his eyes to her, his expression serious. "I would expect no less of ye, lass."
She lay back down within the circle of his arm. "Good."
Warm silence engulfed them only the sound of the tree frogs from the lake disturbing the night.
"Emma?"
"Hhmmm?" she sighed.
"Whatever happens . . .no regrets?"
She snuggled in closer to the heat of his body. Tomorrow they could deal with the questions and decisions and plans. "No regrets."
FINIS