Of Queens and Demons

IMPORTANT: This chapter has been altered- the scene between Emma and Rogue stays pretty much the same, but the rest of the chapter has been completely reworked. I'm really sorry to do this, but I've been stuck on this story for some time. I feel like I've rushed things. So, even though this might be confusing or annoying, please re-read through some of the chapters. As outlined in the first chapter, any chapters that have been changed will be marked as such. Thanks for understanding. :-)

X X X

The soft hiss of running water managed to snake its way through Rogue's deep slumber. Though her body pleaded for more rest, her eyes managed to flutter open and take in the surroundings. Usually Kitty would be making all sorts of noise, probably digging through her dresser for a suitable outfit. But Rogue was surprised to find herself alone – and in Emma's bed.

How had she mistaken it for even a second? The snow white bedspread and fancy, lacquered desk could never be purchased with Rogue's budget.

Not that she was destitute. In fact, compared the plight of most Americans, she considered herself fortunate – at least as fortunate as a mutant could feel. Unfortunately, after her fall out with Mystique and the Brotherhood, she came to the Institute with little save for an old duffel stuffed with clothing. Her “mother” had never been the type to send care-packages. Perhaps Irene might have taken care of her foster daughter's needs, but the two had not spoken since she plotted with Mystique to trick Rogue.

The professor and other instructors had been generous enough to donate a desk for her studies, but it definitely was a hand-me-down. Its right leg had been damaged in the move upstairs (it had been collecting dust in the basement before she arrived), and every now and then it wobbled when Rogue scribbled too zealously. She didn't have a fancy computer like Emma either. Hers was an old IBM that Xavier donated to some of the students when the Institute upgraded to new Dells.

Likewise, Rogue's thin green blanket (which was shoddy compared to Emma's queenly down comforter) had been a gift from Storm who had said that green complimented the girl's skin tone. Rogue wasn't sure if the weather witch had been right, but she was grateful for its warmth.

Unlike Rogue's humble corner – made all the bleaker by Shadowcat's overwhelming need to decorate – everything in this apartment gleamed – sparkled like diamonds. Definitely this luxurious palace belonged to Emma.

Only its owner was nowhere to be found.

“Em-ma?” Rogue murmured, slurring sleepily. No answer. She swung her legs to the side of the bed so that she could ease herself down from its tall frame. “Emma, you around?”

Still no answer. 'Is she showerin'?' Rogue asked herself, considering the steady stream of water close by. 'But the women's shower is three rooms away at least. I shouldn't be hearin' anythin' that far away.'

Curious, Rogue padded around the spacious nook, looking for anything strange. The door to the right of the bed proved to be Emma's walk-in closet. The impressive wardrobe notwithstanding, she closed the door and looked around for another entrance. She spied a small door in the corner.

Beyond the door Rogue was shocked to find even more space. She discovered a small bathroom with a modern sterling silver sink, toilet, and a roomy shower wedged in the corner and covered by semi-opaque glass. Through the glass she spied Emma lathering soap of her long, tan legs. Lust stirred deep in the pit of Rogue's stomach.

“Good morning,” Emma called over the deafening water, seeing that she had a visitor. “Care to join me?”

“I'm not sure if that's possible,” Rogue replied awkwardly. “I mean, I'll be naked and...”

But Emma had already suited up in her diamond form, leaving only her blond hair uncovered. It still gleamed like gold. “Come in. The water's warm, and I won't hurt you.”

Rogue undressed then slid the door open. Emma grabbed her hand and pulled her close, slamming the door shut with the heel of her foot.

“Since when did private rooms get their own shower?” Rogue inquired.

There were few mutants who had private rooms. Jean and Scott had private rooms, but she suspected it was because they were one of the first X-Men. Also, they were older. X-23 had her own room as well, but that was probably because everyone was afraid she might slaughter a roommate. Like her predecessor Wolverine, she just didn't get along well with others. Emma, however, was new to the Institute at a time when every young mutant was beating down the door in hopes of finding refuge. So what was with this deluxe treatment?

“It was a thank you from Xavier,” Emma said. She smiled at Rogue's perplexed expression. “Who do you think paid for the new wing they're putting up for new recruits?”

“You're lucky,” Rogue murmured. “I mean, not only is it hard to take a shower when I might put the girl next to me in a coma, it's just... embarrassin'.” She blushed profusely and folded her arms across her chest. “I spend all my time under long layers, so it's weird whenever I'm naked in front of others. I feel so much more vulnerable than I think any of the other girls feel.

“Plus,” she continued with a small smile, “I bet you'd give everyone a heart-attack if they saw you in the buff. You're like Pamela Anderson or somethin'.”

“I'm not ashamed of my body.”

“I know,” Rogue returned. “I saw that costume you were workin' on. Is that even up to regulations?”

She sneered. “Let the others think what they wish. As long as it has a X on it, I don't see why I shouldn't be able to wear it. I thought the idea was one of unity *and* uniqueness. Your costume doesn't match Jean or Kitty's.”

“Yeah, but we're covered from head-to-toe. Your outfit is more of a swimsuit than anythin'. Is that even safe?”

“I don't need clothes to protect my skin,” Emma said, gesturing to her sparkling skin. “Those rules don't apply to me.”

The telepath took the bar of soap and began to work it up and down Rogue's back. It smelled expensive. Rogue usually stuck to vanilla scented Dial, but on occasion she might use the lavender soap that Kitty liked to get for her. “Mmm,” she moaned, letting its perfume intoxicate her senses.

Emma's fingers moved down to cleanse Rogue's round buttocks, then up again to massage her shoulders. “I think you should work on a different uniform.”

“Why? You don't like the one I have?”

She turned Rogue to face her and began washing the front of her body – her neck, collarbone, her exquisite breasts, her flat stomach. “It's too modest,” she said, “and more importantly, it's not practical. The costume leaves only your neck or face as means for transfer, unless, of course, you remove your gloves.”

Rogue jerked involuntarily when Emma began to soap her most intimate area, long fingers playing with dark curls. “But I would be a danger to my teammates if they ran into me,” she argued.

“No matter. Since you would have their power, the mission would continue with minor hiccups.”

“I still don't like the fact that you're so concerned about my power,” Rogue warned, yet did not shy away from Emma's touch. “Shouldn't you be concerned about yourself? You're new. You want to prove yourself. Why bother with yesterday's news?”

“You're not yesterday's news,” she snipped. “Honestly, Rogue, you're too hard on yourself. Just because Xavier or Scott were unable to properly utilize you, it doesn't mean you still don't have a chance to shine.” Emma's hands moved again. She worked the lather on Rogue's thighs, not missing the wetness that was more than water. “You've proven yourself many times in battle. Why not step out on the front lines? You're a one-woman army.”

“I'm a follower, not a leader.”

“That's not it. You're still scared of your own powers.”

Rogue looked down, not able to deny the accusation.

“Silly girl,” Emma whispered. She twirled around to pour a dollop of Redken shampoo in her palm, then pivoted again to begin massaging the substance into the girl's scalp. Rogue leaned into her, enjoying Emma's expert technique. This woman was wonderful with her hands. “I'll change that soon enough. You'll see. Right now your power is like a disobedient dog. You can't control it if you let it control you.”

“What do you suggest then? That I zap everyone in Starbucks just for the hell of it?”

“Not a bad thought,” the telepath teased, “but let's start with something simple. Have you ever used your power in bed?”

Emma released her lover so that she could rinse. Her nipples hardened from the alternating temperature of the warm water and the cool air. Slicking her hair back and wiping the water from her eyes, Rogue gave a sarcastic reply.

“Considerin' y'r the only person I've been to bed with, you oughta know.”

“Now is the perfect time to experiment,” Emma purred. “Many mutants feel absolute bliss when using their powers during intercourse.”

Rogue ran some conditioner through her hair. “I'll just knock you out. What's the point?”

“Don't be so sure.” Emma's breath was hot as she hissed in Rogue's ear. She stopped to inhale Rogue's scent and chuckled darkly. “You smell like me. I like that.”

Rogue let Emma guide her under the shower head and rinse her hair until the thick cream had completely disappeared down the drain. Then the hot blond reached out to seize Rogue's nipples and gave both a tiny twist. Rogue's back arched immediately. She still hadn't grown accustomed to the sensation of foreign hands. Emma knew this and used it to her advantage, replacing her fingers with her mouth. She captured Rogue's right breast in her full lips and sucked earnestly. Her teeth clamped down, causing the goth to whimper in pain.

'There will be a mark,' Rogue thought. But she knew she could never mark Emma. The diamond skin kept her invincible while Rogue stayed so very fragile, just waiting for Miss Frost to maim and break her.

“Let's move this to the bedroom,” Emma said, resting her chin on Rogue's ample bosom. “The shower is fun, but I don't think Xavier will appreciate his water bill if we stay here much longer.”

She nodded wordlessly and let her lover guide her into the bedroom. Assuming Emma wanted to continue on the bed, she stumbled toward it. To her surprise, Emma yanked her arm and forced the girl to sit on the love seat. Her skin was still wet and left dark stains on the upholstery where she sat, but Emma didn't seem to care.

Miss Frost sat next to her student and drew her into a deep kiss. Their mouths were wet too, and Rogue could taste the perfume that lingered on each other's lips.

The diamond skin felt thinner this time, but still hard and resilient. Rogue dug her nails in Emma's shoulder to test the material's strength, but Emma made no gesture or sound to indicate that she felt pain, and no impression formed where her fingers had sunk. This little detail annoyed her. It was nice to feel Emma's touch, and the blond had nearly perfected her diamond form so that it felt like what Rogue imagined to be the “real thing”. And yet, it didn't feel “real” that Rogue couldn't leave any evidence of their love-making. What if it was all a dream?

Emma, ignorant of Rogue's musings, busily ran her fingers down the girl's torso. Her nails tickled the inside of her thighs, then slowly slid down the length of her wet slit.

“What if someone hears us?” Rogue asked, suddenly alarmed. Most of their trysts had occurred in the evening, either when everyone was sleeping or most of the students and adults were busy training or studying. Amara and Jubilee roomed just down the hall, and Rogue's own room was situated directly across from Emma's suite . The walls of the institute weren't sound proof, and Emma had a talent for making Rogue vocalize her pleasure.

“You worry too much,” Emma retorted, slipping a finger inside the girl. Rogue moaned and tossed her head back. “You're also greedy. Why not return the favor?”

As per Emma's request, Rogue turned her body and kissed the blond. She traced the pout of Emma's mouth with a pointed tongue as her hands gravitated southward, stopping to toy with Emma's other lips. They were soaking wet, and the woman's leg bounced a bit with Rogue pressed a finger inside, twisting it like Emma had done to her.

Rogue added a second finger and bending them back very hard. The blond moaned in appreciation and urged her young charge to increase the pace and pressure. Rogue happily obliged, making sure to work her clit with her thumb.

The two met eyes. Rogue's emerald orbs burned with determination. This time she would make Emma break first, no matter what it took. Emma returned the look with heavy-lidded, lusty eyes. Her cheeks burned, and her mouth seemed swollen, as if expanding in a fervent wish to receive more touch. Her fingers fumbled in Rogue's snatch, but her movements were less skilled than they were a few minutes ago. She was slowly unraveling, falling deeper into ecstasy.

“I'm gonna make you come,” Rogue stated almost proudly.

Emma grunted in affirmation, grinding her hips against Rogue's hand. Normally she would have stepped her own game up, have lost herself in that ancient battle of sex. Not this time. The more control Rogue felt she had, the easier it was for Emma to take it away from her.

Not yet. Rogue's fingers curled back violently, and her thumb clamped down on Emma's sensitive nub. There! Emma let out a long groan and this time she did not bother retaining control on her ascent. She let her diamond shell dissipate as she sky-rocketed toward orgasm.

“Oh shit!” the goth hissed, realizing too late what was happening. Her fingers were deep inside Emma; she couldn't pull away fast enough. Rogue felt the familiar pull as Emma's essence funneled into her.

As Rogue drew back, she had no time to feel fear or regret. A dark wave of thunder rolled down her body. She hadn't been this close. This was not her orgasm, but she felt in everything down to the curl of her toes.

“Fuck...”

“I concur,” Emma agreed. “You absorbed my climax.”

“I guess I did,” Rogue moaned, still feeling little aftershocks.

“That's pretty amazing. I wonder if you could have five orgasms by absorbing five different people at once.”

“You have quite the imagination,” Rogue retorted. “Did you have anybody in mind?”

“Why, Scott, Jean, Remy, myself, and Iceman.”

“Iceman?” Rogue nearly fell of the sofa at that.

She smiled deviously. “Think of all the applications of ice in the bedroom.”

“Still, I dunno if I find Bobby Drake that sexy. But then again, it would be kinda interestin' to find out what a male orgasm feels like.”

“Now who has the imagination?” Emma teased.

Rogue leaned back and sighed contentedly, enjoying the sensation of having Emma slithering around in her head. She felt satisfaction in the magnitude of Emma's orgasm, but more so in the fact that she had broken into the impenetrable woman. Now they were sort of even. Emma may have picked things out of Rogue's head or file, but Rogue knew Emma like the back of her hand.

“You never told me you wanted to open y'r own school,” she murmured, changing the subject.

For the first time in ages, Emma's face actually showed surprise. Maybe it was because the power drain left her without her usual defenses – maybe not. “Yes,” she said.

“Is that why you came here?”

She shook her head, then reconsidered. “Not entirely. Every young mutant needs a place where they are safe to develop their powers. Furthermore, they need a community. It's easy to feel alone out there when there's so much about yourself and others that you can't explain.” She smiled. “I guess that's why I'm here.”

“But you won't stay indefinitely,” Rogue pointed out.

“No,” Emma admitted. “Xavier's school is not perfect, and I doubt I'll ever be in a position to make changes. But I suppose that sometimes it's better to start from scratch.”

“And you think you can do that? Build the perfect mutie school from the ground up?”

Emma raised her chin haughtily. “Naturally. I am a Frost.”

“You have the funds at least,” she joked, then suddenly paled. “Wait a minute. Do you think whoever is controllin' those mutants is tryin' to build their own school? Like the Brotherhood but times twenty?”

She considered the possibility. “Their antics are sloppy, theatrical. I don't think anyone running that kind of place would want attention drawn to it.”

“Unless they wanted like-minded mutants to seek them out.”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But there's no point in worrying about it now. It's Saturday, remember? Xavier asked us younger instructors to take everyone out for a field trip.”

Rogue rolled her eyes. “Can't we just stay here and have more fun?”

Emma chuckled. “Afraid not, eager pupil. Miss Frost has certain responsibilities... tempting as your proposition sounds.”

X X X

“Wow,” Amara breathed as her wide eyes drank in Emma's convertible. Classy didn't even begin to cover it. Just wow! She had thought Cyclops had a sweet ride. What did she know? Come to think of it, she should get a car like that for her birthday. It was, after all, a car fit for a princess... a queen. “We get to ride in this? How cool...”

The blond smiled in response, expecting that reaction from a Nova Roman. “Yes. I thought you, Rogue, Tabitha, Kitty and I could go to the mall in my car. Jean and Scott have the rest of the team covered.”

“Apparently this is our one chance to enjoy ourselves before we begin Mutant Slave Labor Camp,” Tabitha muttered under her breath.

“It's not so bad,” Kitty protested. “I'm actually pretty glad to train more. I hardly ever get to use my power unless I'm, like, too lazy to use the stairs or something.”

“Yeah, but you know Wolverine is going to completely whip us.”

“A mutant outin'?” Rogue asked as she slid into the passenger seat. The rest of the mutants were squished together in the cramped backseat, much to their annoyance. Why did she get shot-gun? “Is the professor crazy? Didn't somethin' awful happen the last time we all took a trip together? Like a volcano explodin' or somethin'?”

“That was my fault,” Amara admitted with a tinge of embarrassment.

“Yeah, but you also saved the day in the end,” Boom Boom said. “And those villagers treated us like rock-stars! Man, it was so cool.” She shot Rogue a look and rolled her eyes. “But you wouldn't know, Rogue, because you were too busy playing anti-social-shut-in and stayed home.”

“Yeah, like y'all really want me bunkin' with ya in a cruise ship. One little bump in the night, and I have all yer powers. That just screams 'great idea'.”

“The X-Men took a cruise?” Emma asked, as if she didn't already know. She was trailing behind Scott's car. Kurt, Jamie, Ray and Bobby were hopping around inside, hollering about something. Jean's SUV was ahead of them.

“It was a nightmare,” Amara said. “Rogue was smart to stay behind. Once the humans on the cruise found out that we were muties, they acted like a bunch of dicks.”

“And to make matters worse my poor baby needed dry land STAT!” Boom Boom added.

“All in all, I don't think we'll be doing that again.”

As the rest of the car reminisced about their Caribbean cruise gone wrong, Rogue sighed and looked over at Emma. “Why do we gotta go to the mall? I don't wanna see that stupid PG-13 movie everyone is so excited about.”

“You don't want to get some CDs?” Emma asked.

“Oh, you know her already,” Kitty jeered from behind. “Rogue hates social outings, but we'll have to drag her from the record store once we're finally ready to leave.”

“Hmmm...” Maybe she would have to get Rogue a CD sometime. “Who is your favorite artist?”

“I'm not sure if it's her favorite band,” Kitty answered, “but she has definitely been listening to Denali nonstop.” Rogue supposed her roommate was making a point, probably that she didn't appreciate the music, but she never cared about Kitty's musical taste and didn't see why she should start now.

“Anything's better than Jubilee's J-Pop,” Amara interrupted. “God, I think I still have that one song stuck in my head.”

Tabitha giggled. “Oh, you mean the one that goes 'what women want is simple pleasures, to feel special, we don't need you foreveeeer'?”

“You're, like, totally off-key!” Kitty complained, covering her ears.

“I prefer classical myself,” Emma murmured.

“Okay, Grandma,” Tabitha teased. She leaned forward and craned her neck to get a better look at the new instructor. “There's no way a girl in white hot pants listens to that stuff.”

“It's true. Beethoven is my drug.” Emma smiled wickedly. “But if they play Beyonce at the club, I can't help myself if I start dancing. After all, I *am* a diva.”

“What do you mean the club?” Kitty croaked – just as Emma took a sharp right turn, losing both Cyclops and Jean. They were supposed to stay together in case the unimaginable happened – and who knew when humans *and* mutants were always out to get the X-Men?

“Who needs to go to the mall to have fun?” Emma asked. “Just because Jean and Scott want a boring time doesn't mean we have to suffer as well. There's plenty of entertainment at a bar, and with my powers of persuasion, I can get us all in legally and free of charge.” She grinned. “I may be your instructor, but I'm no stick-in-the-mud. Outside of the classroom, anything goes!”

“All right!” Boom Boom squealed. “Now we're talking! I knew there was a reason why I liked you, Blondie.”

“It's barely nine,” Rogue protested, “and the professor's gonna kill us.”

“We're about to be killed anyway,” Amara mumbled sourly. “Did you forget that tomorrow we start Logan sessions every morning? Why not cut loose tonight?”

“Logan sessions is why we so don't need a hang-over.” Kitty sided with Rogue on this one. After all, they had lived at the institute long enough to know how grueling training sessions could get when Logan was put in charge.

“Come on, girls,” Emma groaned. “I thought I picked the daring group. What happened to the Bayville Sirens? Don't they get a night on the town every once and a while?”

“Oh, here we go.” Rogue rolled her eyes.

'Hope you keep that black leather outfit,' White Queen purred telepathically.

She pretended not to hear, blushing slightly.

“Yeah, but remember how we all almost went to jail for that?” Amara objected.

But Tabitha, clearly in White Queen's corner, put an arm around Kitty and another around Amara. “Emma's right. Just because we're mutants and superheros doesn't mean we have to be a bunch of losers. What can be so bad about a couple drinks and a dance floor?”

“I do like to dance,” Kitty offered cheerfully.

“And it *is* kind of fun to get away from the boys at the Institute,” Amara said. “If Ray hits on me one more time...”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Well, Rogue? You're the only one still against the idea.” Mentally she said, 'And I won't take no for an answer...'

'And who am I gonna dance with?' she shot back. 'You? Please, like I want my teammates to know I'm a big dyke.'

'If you think Kitty will judge you, then you have no faith in your friend. And Tabitha is too much of a free spirit to care.'

'Amara?'

'If you hadn't noticed, the poor girl's had a crush on you since she first came here.' Rogue wasn't sure if she agreed, but, then again, Emma *could* read people's thoughts. 'And why do you think she and Tabitha spend so much girl time together?'

“All right,” Rogue conceded audibly. “But I ain't gettin' hammered. And neither should y'all. That's just dangerous.”

“Woo hoo!” Tabitha cried, lifting her fists to sky as the cityscape whizzed by them. “I'm so excited! The Bayville Sirens live again!”

“With a new member,” Kitty pointed out, nodding to Emma.

“The best member ever,” she gushed. “You're a way cooler leader than Jean Grey. I mean, no offense to Red, but she's just so *serious*. Wow, so, how are you gonna sneak us in? I know you're legal, but the rest of us are still in high school.”

“You'll see.”

The backseat was full of chatter as Emma continued down the highway.

'So where are we goin'?' Rogue asked with her thoughts because she figured it was more convenient than trying to talk over Boom Boom's booming voice.

'Just a little bar I used to frequent when I lived in New York City,' Emma said. 'You'll find it quite interesting. The clientèle there is almost exclusively mutant, so you won't have to worry about your power causing any trouble.'

'Well, it won't be a problem either way,' she snapped. 'I don't dance. The last time I danced...'

'I'm not a frail human,' Emma shot back. 'I'm not scared of you hurting me.'

Rogue didn't say a word the rest of the way, which Emma assumed was her version of pouting. Tabitha stopped rambling about the latest Project Runway episode once Emma pulled into an open lot. A pretty ordinary looking bar stood in front, lit up with red lights and Miller Light lamps. Emma shifted into park and killed the ignition.

“Here we are.”

“Looks shabby,” Boom Boom said. “That doesn't seem like you, Blondie. You turn your nose up at anything Blue-Collar. I was expecting the Ritz. This is like... Wal-Bar or something...”

“Never judge a book by its cover.”

Emma exited the convertible and sauntered through the double doors, the other girls on her heels. They came across a small desk and a short man with a thin mustache. Seeing the girls, he hopped down from his stool and stopped them with an outstretched palm.

“Sorry ladies,” he said, “but I'm going to need to see some identification.”

“Of course,” Emma returned smoothly, turning hers over. “How are you, Walter? I'm glad to see you're still around.” She motioned for the girls to hand him their license. “As you can see, my friends are all 21. Just having a ladies' night out.”

“I'll need to see more identification than that,” he said pointedly after returning the cards.

While the other girls panicked, Emma calmly morphed into her diamond shell long enough for Walter to get a good look. “You hardly need to ask that of me,” she teased.

“What the heck are you doing, Emma?” Kitty shrieked. “Geez, do you want to get us killed?”

“Hush,” she snapped, raising her hand as if to issue a sound smack. Shadowcat's eyes widen in shock as Emma's arm extended en-route to strike, and she quickly phased to avoid the blow. Emma's palm slipped right through her face. Without apologizing, she turned to the others. “Now, show him your powers.”

Tabitha shrugged and created a few time bombs, while Amara melted into her Magma form. Only Rogue stood dumbly, staring at her hands.

“If your friend isn't a mutant, she can't come in,” the man said. “I hate saying that, but after the Friends of Humanity caused so much trouble last week, I'm afraid our policy has become strictly mutant only.”

“It's okay,” Rogue said, drawing back. “I'll just go wait in the car.”

“Nonsense,” Emma returned. “My friend most certainly is a mutant. I'll show you.” She seized Rogue by the wrist and pulled her close, capturing the girl's lips with her mouth.

“Mmph!”

Rogue hadn't expected that. However, as Miss Frost had planned, Rogue had automatically manifested Emma's diamond shell in defense. Now the bouncer knew Rogue was a mutant, and, to make matters more interesting, a few of the X-Men knew that Emma and Rogue were more than just friends.

“That's a pretty impressive power,” Walter commented. “I've never seen anything like that.” He nodded to himself. “All right. Follow me.” With a small bow, he stepped out from the counter and rapped on the nearby wall. The wood paneling pulled back to reveal a glass door. “Welcome to Firewater. We hope you enjoy your stay, and please remember to keep your powers in check. No fights inside or outside.”

'Firewater? What kinda lame name is that?' Rogue asked herself.

Emma stepped through the door as though she hadn't heard Rogue's snarky thought. The beat-up dive in which Walter greeted them transformed into a plush lounge. Chandeliers hung from every corner of the ceiling, and the tables were covered with red lace and candles. A large dance floor appeared in the middle, complete with a DJ and four large speakers. In contrast to the classy arrangements to the side, the dance floor was equipped with pumping subwoofers and more than enough colored lights to put on a Nine Inch Nails concert. To the right of that was the bar, stocked with the finest liquor, beer and wine the city had to offer.

“Whoa,” Kitty whispered. “When you said 'club', I hadn't pictured anything like *this*.”

“I'm getting a drink!” Tabitha sang, grabbing Magma's arm. “Come on, 'Mara. Let's order something fancy like a cosmopolitan.”

“Ooh! That's so Sex and the City,” she agreed.

“What was up with that bouncer?” Rogue asked after adjusting to the change in atmosphere.

“Walter has a low-grade version of telepathy,” Emma answered. “His power allows him to convince humans that this place is just a normal hole-in-the wall even though it is not, much like I convinced him that your licenses said you were all 21.” She sighed. “It hardly needs to be said, but if humans knew the location of a mutant-friendly bar... well, let's just say the Friends of Humanity would be the least of our problems.”

“Ahem,” Kitty interrupted, reminding the two that although some Sirens had left, she was very much still there. “So, you gonna tell me what that was about? And no, Emma, I'm not talking about you, like, almost bitch-slapping me. Which, by the way, we'll talk about later. I mean, it's not like I didn't notice. Are you two...” She trailed off. The answer seemed so obvious. Rogue *had* been spending a lot of time with Emma lately, and she hadn't been sleeping in her bed either...

“We're a couple,” Emma purred, sliding up to Rogue, who tried her best to ignore the girl's Playboy tits pressing against her side.

Kitty looked at Rogue, who nodded. “I guess that's what we are,” she admitted, adding quickly, “Emma's diamond skin allows us to touch without my power hurtin' her. If you were wonderin' how it was possible.”

Rogue had expected her roommate to be disgusted, but Katherine actually looked happy to hear the news. “That's great,” Kitty said with complete sincerity. “I was wondering what the heck you were trying to hide from me. Cause I'm not blind to your, like, sudden and mysterious interest in school work.”

“You don't...?”

Shadowcat shot Rogue a look of disbelief. “We're mutants. Like I get to be judgmental about stupid stuff like that. To the rest of the world, we rank worse than homosexuals – I mean, we're worse than, like, lepers. As long as you're happy, Rogue, I'm happy for you.”

Nevertheless, Kitty tried not to think about how weird they were as a couple. Not because they were the same sex, but because Emma and Rogue seemed like such polar opposites: a rich, cultured, popular 'queen' and a poor, sullen outcast. Kitty tried even harder not to think about what their sex life was like, or how jealous she was of Emma's perfect breasts – mostly because she was sure the owner of said breasts was most likely drilling into her skull at the moment.

“Thanks,” Rogue said finally. She was pleased that Kitty had taken the news so well, especially since it took most of the work out her liaisons with Emma. “And I think I am happy.”

“Good.” Kitty flashed a genuine smile. “I'm going to get a drink. Want anything?”

She shook her head.

“Then I'll leave you two lovebirds alone.”

Emma smiled at her lover as Katherine joined Boom Boom and Magma at the bar. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

“No,” Rogue admitted, but she was still blushing. Emma placed a palm against Rogue's chest and drew her into an embrace. She began to swing her hips a little, silently suggesting that the two of them share an intimate dance.

But Rogue froze. “Only problem is that even if you're not Cody, I still suck at dancin'.”

“My father made me study ballroom dancing when I was little,” Emma said. “Plus, I picked up a few moves in college.” She held her hand out. “Here, touch me. Then you won't have to worry about stepping on my feet.”

Grateful, Rogue grazed Emma's skin long enough for to retain some of Emma's talents. Then, to prevent any accidents, Emma covered everything but her hair in diamonds. Knowing she couldn't harm Emma now, Rogue's body loosened and pressed against hers. Their feet moved in unison.

“You should dance with Kitty later. She really knows how to get down.”

“I believe Katherine's already 'getting down' with someone else,” Emma returned, pointing to where Shadowcat was grinding against the skinny man who had purchased her Sex on the Beach.

But as soon and Rogue scanned the rest of the crowd, she swayed awkwardly. Seeing the other girls, Rogue realized that Kitty wasn't the only X-Man who knew about their relationship. She was sure Bobby would have a heart attack when he heard the news. And how would she explain it to Scott? 'Oh God, Scott,' she thought, her heart sinking. What the hell would he think – after what she and Emma had done to him? Maybe Rogue wasn't as sure about her relationship as she thought...

Trying to put some oomph into their waltz, Emma pressed her warm body against the younger girl's. But Rogue was still too preoccupied to pay attention. Still, their proximity helped Rogue focus on her partner – if not their dance. 'It's funny,' she thought. 'Even though she's in her diamond form, she's still so warm and soft.'

Resting her head on Emma's shoulder, Rogue breathed in the sweet scent of Emma's shampoo. A hint of perfume lingered there. Rogue guessed it was some modern incarnation Chanel. It wasn't Chanel No. 5, because she had forever associated the smell with “old lady” ever since Irene Adler had taken to wearing it. This scent was fresher, perhaps it had some citrus notes. Regardless, it seemed like something Emma Frost would wear – expensive, but not trendy – something classic, nostalgic, yet modern and flirty.

“You know I won't hurt you,” Emma whispered. “And you can't hurt me.”

Her cheeks flushed self-consciously. She knew that... at least... she *thought* she could finally trust Emma Frost. No one would be enough of an idiot to admit to snooping if she was going to blackmail the X-Men later. Maybe she did have her reasons for going through Xavier's files. Besides, who was Rogue to judge? She had attacked the X-Men several times during her stay with the Brotherhood. So, for the most part, Rogue was glad Emma had come to the institute. Even if Emma had caused her a bit of grief, she really enjoyed their time together... and not just the time spent doing the horizontal bop. And their lessons... Rogue was actually benefiting from both Emma's open-mindedness and creativity. No one else could've ever made Rogue take off her gloves. Xavier had certainly tried.

A catchy R&B song blasted through the twin speakers overhead, changing the tempo of their dance. Emma turned around so that she, though taller than her companion, could slide against Rogue as she swayed and slithered down the girl's body. But Rogue awkwardly placed both of her hands on Emma's waist, moving her feet more than anything else. The two swayed together, Emma with a more pronounced, suggestive twist of his hips, while Rogue's motion remained stiff and reserved, even with the vast knowledge of dance she'd borrowed from Emma.

Emma leaned back, her long, golden hair spilling over Rogue's shoulder. She gave a sexy wink and whispered, “You need a drink, darling. I feel like I'm dancing with a broom.”

“I told ya I was no good,” Rogue muttered, taking a step back. “This was a stupid idea anyway. The professor's gonna send someone after us soon. Probably Storm, and she's no fun to deal with when she's pissed. It's like facin' the wrath of God.”

“We're going to get reamed either way. Might as well enjoy ourselves, n'est pas?”

Rogue rolled her eyes at Emma's need to flaunt her cultured up-bringing. “Whatever, Remy LeBeau.”

“Mmm, now you're talking,” she purred. “Perhaps we can have mind-sex with him next. I've always wondered if the gossip about him is true...” She smiled mischievously. “Anyway, just relax.”

“How can I relax in a room fulla people?” Rogue glanced down at her outfit – a short black skirt complimented with thick black fishnets, high-heeled boots, and a long-sleeved see-through violet shirt. Emma had picked it out, but now that Rogue was in it, she felt that the ensemble left a lot of space for patrons to meet with her deadly mutation.

“How about some liquid relaxation, eh darling?”

It was more of a statement than an inquiry. Emma took Rogue's right arm in hers and dragged her to the bar, managing to push through the crowd quite easily. “I'll take two shots of tequila – top-shelf,” she called, fishing a twenty from her white clutch and waving it in the air.

The bartender, deaf to neither beauty nor cash, poured the drinks and immediately slid them across the table, disappearing for a second to procure two lime wedges and a salt shaker.

“Thanks, stud,” Emma said, handing him the bill. “Keep the change. And keep 'em coming.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” he responded with a gap-toothed smile before tending to his other customers.

“I've never taken a tequila shot before,” Rogue admitted. She gestured to the elaborate set-up. “What's with all this? Is it even necessary.”

“Very necessary. The fun is in the ritual. Here, let me show you.”

Emma seized Rogue's right hand, grinning. It was so much fun to teach the girl new things, even if it was just how to take a tequila shot. With Rogue's hand still in her grasp, she lifted the top to her lips and she gave the space between her thumb and index finger a long lick.

“W-what the hell?” Rogue hiccuped, trying to pull back.

“Just relax,” she murmured, holding tightly despite Rogue's objection. She added salt, then released her bruising grip to do the same to her own hand. “Now, lick.”

Rogue did as commanded, lapping up the table salt with obvious distaste.

Then Emma placed the shot in Rogue's hand and took up her own. “Now, drink.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Rogue placed the glass to her lips and tipped it back. Since Rogue had never drank much of anything before, she unwisely kept the tequila in her mouth long enough to taste its bite. Fighting the urge to gag or spit out the poison, she instead forced the liquid down and gasped for air.

That's when Emma thrust a lime between her lips.

“Mmph!”

“Suck.”

She didn't really have any other choice – the lime was already there. Once she conceded to Emma's demands, however, she found that the lime actually eased the burning in her mouth and throat. All discomfort was replaced by a floating feeling of confidence.

“Well?” Emma asked, removing her own rind with an audible pop.

“That was intense.”

“Want another?” Seeing Rogue's apprehension, she suggested, “Should I order something different?”

Again, Emma asked the question without waiting for an answer. She waved at the bartender. “Two redheaded sluts,” she purred, turning to Rogue to explain. “In memory of our favorite red-headed slut.”

“I don't think slut is quite the word,” Rogue argued.

Emma picked up her shot and smirked. “How little you know.”

Up to the challenge, Rogue seized the shot glass and down it in one, fluid movement. Now that she knew to get rid of it quickly, she handled this drink like a pro. Well, the fact that it was fruity rather than tasting like gasoline also helped.

“Another?” the bartender asked, seeing new his favorite customers had already finished.

“Not the same shot.” Emma batted her eyelashes. “Why don't you surprise us? I'm sure you can whip up something potent and delicious.”

“You are such a flirt,” Rogue snapped, rolling her eyes as their server sprang eagerly for the liquor cabinet.

“Jealous?” she teased, leaning forward so that her nose brushed against Rogue's nose. “Maybe I should give him some kind of signal? Something that says 'off limits'?”

The kiss was slow – much slower than their usual frantic, lust-crazed make-out sessions. Emma took her time, catching Rogue's bottom lip and sucking on her grape-flavored lip gloss, before thrusting her tongue in to intensify their lip-lock.

“Two bourbons from the gentleman across the bar,” the bartender said, sliding two more shot glasses between the girls and interrupting the show.

“Oh great,” Emma mumbled, scanning the room for their mysterious benefactor. “Yet another straight male hoping to get some from the lesbians.” But she almost ate her words when she spied a dark-haired man sipping a vodka on the rocks. He waved. “Oh. My. God. Is that Tony?”

“Who's Tony?”

If Emma heard Rogue's question, she didn't show it. Instead, she practically bolted from her bar stool to the man's. “Tony Stark?! Is that you?”

“In the flesh,” he replied, smiling politely. “Emma Frost... how long has it been?”

“Too long.”

Tony gestured to a young blond next to him. She was wearing a stylish, dark blue dress. “Emma, this is my girlfriend, Alison Blaire.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” she said politely.

“My hunch about you was right,” Emma purred, locking eyes with Tony. “You must prefer blonds. You haven't changed at all.”

He laughed again. “It's coincidence, I swear. Besides, I believe I spotted you shoving your tongue down another girl's throat. Have you really changed that much?”

Emma laughed. “Oh, that's just my friend, Rogue.” She pointed to her across the room, smiling. Rogue glared, and made a point to stare into her shot glass. Emma had forgotten all about her drink. “Hey, but, you *must* have changed. I mean, this bar is for mutants only. You're not a mutant, are you?”

“A lot has happened since I last saw you,” he said darkly. “Anyway, Ali happens to be a mutant, though she's probably not as gung-ho about it as you are. She convinced that old man that I had my own special gifts.” Not wanting to dwell on the subject, Tony turned to his date and asked, “Ali, would you mind if I did some catching up with Emma?”

“Go ahead,” she replied, nodding. As Tony took Emma's arm, which was no longer covered in diamonds, Rogue noticed, Alison's gaze flickered to Rogue. The goth pretended to take a sudden interest in the stitching of her leather gloves as the blond approached her. “I'm Ali,” the girl offered, letting a wordless “and you?” hang in the air.

“Rogue. I'm a friend of Emma's.” 'Not her girlfriend,' Rogue thought, remembering how Emma had worded their relationship while she shameless flirted with Tony Stark. “Y'r a mutant?” She asked, an awkward attempt at conversation.

“A singer first and foremost,” Ali admitted, a little ashamed. “I go by Dazzler. I guess it's like my version of Lady Gaga.” She smiled shyly. “None of my fans know I'm a mutant – not even my manager. But I'm not one of those self-hating wenches, I swear. It's just that if everyone knew Dazzler was a mutant, I probably wouldn't get any record sales.”

“Then what are you doin' at a mutie bar? Aren't you afraid someone will recognize you?”

Ali's face paled momentarily. When color finally flooded back to her cheeks, she said, “Well, it was Tony's idea more than mine. I'm happy living my life among normal people, but he's taken it upon himself to be some sort of hero. Tony's always been an adventure-junkie, I guess. Maybe that's why he's here. Now that I think about it, he did say he was meeting someone here to try to get into the Avengers or X-Calibur or something.”

“X-men, you mean?” She cast Tony a side-long glance, not missing how his hand dipped very low down Emma's back as the two danced. “I don't think he meets the requirements. Emma and I are X-Men, but we're definitely mutants. I don't think the professor has room for non-mutants. Not now, at least.”

“Yeah, times are tough, huh?” Ali drained her beer, hoping the alcohol might ease the anxiety she felt around this stranger. The girl's crossed arms and furrowed brows clearly sent the signal that she'd rather be left alone. Still, Dazzler pressed on. “I hear the government is talking about forcing all known mutants to register their power, name, and location.”

“Is that what their sayin'?” Rogue sneered, taking that moment to slam back the shot Tony had purchased. “Sounds to me like they wanna round us up for another reason entirely.”

Alison shivered. “I hope that's not the case.” Naively, she added, “Besides, the government exists to protect people like us.”

“I don't think they were protectin' us when they sent giant, flyin' robots to come exterminate us.”

While Dazzler struggled for the words to follow such a statement, Emma and Tony returned rosy-cheeked and winded.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Tony told Alison. He turned to Emma and Rogue and gave a small bow. “It was nice catching up with you, Emma, and I will definitely keep what you said in mind.” To Rogue he added, “And it was lovely to meet you. Any friend of Emma Frost is a friend of mine.”

Rogue didn't reply, but gave a slight nod because Irene Adler hadn't raised her to be rude. Anti-social as she was, the Southerner did not lack basic courtesy. Emma, sensing the annoyance and jealously that her lover projected, wished Tony and Alison the best of luck. Then the couple stalked off, Alison gripping his arm very tightly and whispered something that neither girl could hear.

“Sorry to leave you like that,” Emma said sheepishly. “It was such a random reunion.”

“Oh, don't worry,” Rogue snapped bitterly. “Alison Blaire was pleasure to speak with. I've never meet a mutant more absurd than her. She would rather live a lie around people who hate her than accept her true nature.”

“You're saying that you wouldn't?”

“I'm sayin' that most of us don't have the choice to hide who we are.” She thought specifically of Kurt, her foster brother, who would have never had the chance to attend a normal high school without his holographic wristwatch.

“I suppose Alison Blaire is rather lucky, then,” Emma murmured. “Although I can't say I've ever picked up one of her albums. I'm not that into techno.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it seems Tony will always be Tony. One bimbo after another.”

“And you're one of those bimbos?”

“Oh please,” Emma snorted. “I'm the one who got away. And certainly more cultured and interesting than the chantruesse on his arm.”

“Hostile much?”

“My, my,” she clucked, “someone's angry that we were interrupted.” She pulled Rogue close to her diamond skin. “Shall we pick up where we left off?”

“No thanks,” Rogue snapped, making a point to instead reach across the table and down Emma's shot as well.

“That wasn't very nice,” Emma pouted. “But I guess I deserved that one.” She looked around for their ever-attentive bartender. He was at the other end of the room, distracted by Tabitha taking a tequila shot from Amara's stomach. “Excuse me, my *Mississippi* peach. It seems I have some students to punish.”

Emma disappeared through the crowd, leaving Rogue alone at the bar, much to her displeasure. She felt awkward, and decided she wouldn't wait around for Emma. Who did she think she was anyway? Rogue was not something disposable – someone she could toss aside whenever it suited the White Queen's whims.

Just as Rogue approached the dance floor, a figure approached her from behind. Annoyed, she readied a sarcastic one-liner to hurl at Alison Blaire. Really, some people just couldn't take a hint.

To her surprise, the woman was not Alison – nor any of her teammates. The stranger was a tall woman, almost model-esque, though she packed too many curves to strut the runway. She had long, black hair and blue eyes that were painted Oriental-style, a look that seemed odd next to her black jumpsuit. She extended a long, white arm.

“Hello. I'm Selene,” the stranger said, though her self-assured, almost regal tone seemed to suggest that everyone should know that already. “Who in the world are you, my dear?”

“I'm Rogue,” she said in a small voice, keeping her arms stiffly at her side.

The woman drew back, at first offended that the girl hadn't accepted her gesture of friendship. Then she circled around Rogue, eyes studying every inch from her Doc Martens to the strange white stripe in her otherwise brown hair. “Interesting,” she murmured. “I just knew there was something special about you.” Her painted lips curved into a smile. “Are you here with anyone?”

“I'm with a friend.”

“Well, where is your friend now?”

Rogue craned her neck to search for Emma, but managed only to spot Tabitha and Amara giggling drunkenly with Kitty and her dance partner. “She went to get a drink, but she'll be back.”

“If I were her,” Selene said in a low, sensual voice, “I wouldn't leave a tasty morsel like you alone for even a minute.” The next part she whispered. “Since she's so careless, I suppose she won't mind if I have a little taste...”