Of Queens and Demons

Quick But Possibly Annoying Author's Note: If you haven't already noticed the change of title and change of content in chapters 8 to the present chapter, you should backtrack. Otherwise, continue to the fic.



x x x



After Rogue had showered and put on something other than her uniform, she made a beeline for the infirmary. Her hair was still damp and let wet spots around her thin top, but Rogue hadn't bothered making herself up for the occasion. If Emma was still under Hank's care, she couldn't look much better.



“Mornin' Mr. McCoy,” she greeted the blue giant currently pouring himself a cup of java. “Is sleepin' beauty finally awake?”



Beast smiled. “Salutations, Rogue. Yes, Emma Frost is wide awake. I discharged her this morning. The tests I performed this morning turned out normal, so there really is no need for her to stay here. Unless, of course, she wanted to get out of this morning's Danger Room session.” He moved to put the pot back in its container, then paused. “Care for some coffee?”



“No thanks. Already drank about a gallon of the stuff myself before Logan's run.”



“Ah, I see. I believe my team is slated to practice later today. How did it go?”



“About as good as it could go, considerin' everythin' that went down last night.”



“Wolverine informed me that you saved the day – or mission rather,” Hank said off-handedly. Rogue squirmed. What, was Mr. Logan proud of her or something? “You usually loathe to use your mutant power, especially in the Danger Room. What has caused this sudden confidence – or dare I say *pride* – in that gift you think of as a curse?”



Rogue appreciated Beast's concern. She didn't like him prying, but she did realize that Hank had a unique perspective on the mutant gene. After all, he was an intelligent man, but all anyone ever really saw was a monster. Rogue had to admit that like her foster brother, Kurt, Hank was one of the few mutants who could relate to having a blessing that often seemed more like a torment than anything else.



“Emma's the reason I've been a little more comfortable in my own skin, I guess.”



“Oh? Are the two of you secretly birds of a feather?” Beast adjusted his glasses with a small smirk. Like every other instructor, he had never expected Emma Frost to become fast friends with the most unsociable woman in the mansion. In fact, a week ago he bet Wolverine that Emma would most likely become friends with haughty Amara or wild Tabitha. Of course, it was uncanny how opposites attracted sometimes...



“She's been teachin' me how to control my powers,” Rogue disclosed guardedly after a moment of silence. “It hasn't helped the way I thought it would. I mean, I still can't touch people with my bare skin. But I guess only Emma could get me to volunteer my power in the Danger Room.”



With coffee in hand, Beast crossed over to his computer and punched in a few commands. “If being a 'normal' human being is that important to you, Rogue, I could always ask Forge to help me whip up a device to dampen your powers. Perhaps a watch similar to the one your brother wears? It would take some time, and I can't guarantee its effectiveness...”



That wasn't the first time Hank had hinted at the wonders of technology. “It's sweet of you to offer, really, but it just wouldn't feel right even if it did help with my... problem.” She flexed her right hand, the hand encased by one of the gloves Emma had threatened to forcibly remove from her wardrobe. “I want to be able to control my power myself. Lettin' somethin' else control it for me... that's no better than cheatin' in my opinion.”



And hadn't Emma warned her against using gloves and the like as crutches to keep her power at bay? Even with some miracle watch, she'd never truly have control over her mutation. And what it that device broke? Then where would she be. She met Hank's curious gaze. “Besides, I guess I'm lucky enough for lookin' the part.”



Beast gave a look of mock-offense. “Are you saying that you don't think blue fur is an improvement on my previous fleshy state?”



Rogue smiled. “A vast improvement... but it's still probably not the best suit t' wear to parties.”



“Not unless I wanted to end up as the main attraction,” he agreed amiably. A window popped up on the computer screen, demanding his attention. Beast's good spirits suddenly nose-dived into a deep frown. Perhaps he'd found some information about their mysterious attacker? Or did it have to do with Emma's condition?



“Pardon me, but I have something to take care of.”



“No problem,” Rogue said, taking the hint. “Good luck with the New Mutants. I'm gonna go find where Emma's hidin'.”



x x x



Wolverine made his way down to the Danger Room, having enjoyed a long ride on his bike after training with the X-Men. The drive helped him sort out his thoughts. If the Danger Room session had taught him anything, it was that the kids had gotten a bit rusty since fighting Apocalypse. It was unacceptable. Even Cyclops, the most dependable X-Man, wavered – and in a training mission no less. The team had gotten lazy – cocky. They probably thought the opposite – but Xavier seemed to think the opposite.



Apocalypse was a troublesome foe who used the X-Men's allies against them. It had been a grueling battle, but they had emerged victorious. But at least Apocalypse was straight-forward in his goals. Whoever was pulling the strings this time wasn't stupid. Nor was this person a Die Hard villain, so egocentric that he basically outlined each and every move for the protagonist. The police nor the X-Men could find any clues as to the mastermind's identity or even his or her whereabouts.



To be honest, Logan did not get why Xavier was so eager to push his X-Men into shape. They didn't have a strategy. Charles knew next to little about their supposed enemy, but he was almost positive that this figure wished to start a war between humans and mutants. Not that it would be difficult. The media was already in a frenzy over a few mutant-related misdemeanors. It would only take a tiny push to send the public over the edge and into mutant-hunting hysteria.



Wolverine growled. He hated his precarious position as a mutant – accepted sometimes when his powers could be put to good use – then hated as soon as the crisis dissolved. But mostly he was just a freak – a genetic animally. So, if humans wanted to eradicate mutants, then Logan thought mutants would be wise to make the first move. Sometimes the lack of gratitude from the world at large caused him to understand Magneto's vision – if only for a few minutes. Ultimately, he wished Charles would be less cryptic. No one liked being kept in the dark. But he also suspected even someone like Xavier might not know everything.



All these speculations did little to ease Logan's frustrations, so he figured beating up some mutant-hating robots in the Danger Room was just what the doctor ordered. The hallway was empty – most of the kids were taking it easy in the living or out in the yard. No one would approach the Danger Room today – not if they all had to train anyway. This meant Logan could have some alone time before Hank and Storm took over the room. He savored this fact. Training was so much more rewarding alone.



But as the Danger Room door slid open, he saw that he wasn't alone. Jean Grey was engaged in combat with at least a dozen robots wearing the faces of the X-Men's large gallery of antagonists. Logan knew from experience that this simulation wasn't the most difficult – especially for a combatant as advanced as Jean. Even so, the woman's red hair was slick with sweat, and her brows were screwed up in concentration and annoyance. The robots circled around her. Clearly, Jean was having trouble fending them off.



So, how was it that the woman who almost demolished the entire institute single-handedly could not take out a dozen Brotherhood thugs?



Was it just because the earlier Danger Room session left Jean exhausted? Logan shook that thought away. She knew her limits – Jean was always smart enough not to push herself too far.



And yet, she hadn't performed the best earlier that day. Wolverine was surprised when Rogue had to act as co-telekinetic in order for the team to complete their mission. Not only that Rogue would offer to absorb someone like that, but also because Jean could lift a lot more than a 115 pound girl – like Blob, for instance. At the moment, however, it didn't seem that Jean was struggling to summon enough power. On the contrary, from the way her TK made various objects zoom past their intended targets, it appeared that Jean was struggling to hold back that power.



As robo-Quicksilver made a dash straight for her, Jean cleverly used her telekinesis to lift him from the ground, thereby circumventing his super speed. Not a new trick, of course. She then used her power to send him flying into the nearest wall. Wolverine's eyes widened in surprise as Quicksilver smashed through the wall and landed in the hallway. Her throw had certainly packed a wallop. The Danger Room's shell boasted nearly 12 feet of solid steel. No way Pietro was getting up after that.



Pyro, attempting to take advantage of Jean's preoccupation, sent a giant flame dinosaur after the redhead. By the time she realized what was happening, it was too late to send the fiery monster flying with her telekinesis. As if by instinct, a psi-shield surrounded Jean's body in the shape of a bubble, and she sent a powerful psychic wave through the room, taking out everyone and everything in the Danger Room, including Wolverine, who howled in pain.



The attack astounded him. Fire surrounded his senses. He fell to his knees as memories and emotions long forgotten suddenly and violently flickered through his mind.



Needles. God, so many needles. Strange green liquid filling up his lungs. Voices. He knew they were talking about him. About what “to do” about him. ...Him? He faltered. Wait... who was he?



Trying to capture a moment – any moment – once passed, he drew only a blank. Like a clean chalkboard. And then he felt the pain. Terrible, terrible pain. His bones felt heavy – like lead. His hands were bleeding. The voices were screaming now. He licked his lips, tasting something metallic and warm.



What was happening to him?



Wolverine cried out, unsheathing his claws.



“Mr. Logan?”



He blinked. The fire, the needles, and the screams were gone. Only Jean stood in front of him now. Her psi-shields had dissipated, and Wolverine started as he realized that his claws were dangerously close to piercing the young woman's abdomen.



“I-I'm sorry, kid,” he said. “I just came in for a quick workout, and then... I don't know what came over me.”



“It's my fault, really,” she replied softly. “There's no need to apologize.”



Logan retracted his claws. “You okay, Red?”



She nodded, then changed her mind and shook her head. “I don't know.”



“Wanna talk about it?”



The corner of her lips curved into a small smile. “You really wanna listen?”



Wolverine shrugged. “I guess it's part of my job as Instructor Logan.”



He looked around the room. The simulation had ended, and Jean had definitely made a mess. The gaping hole in the wall looked like nothing compared to the other damage she'd caused. Forge would have a cow when he came to fix up the place – and maybe even a laugh when he learned it wasn't Wolverine's fault for once.



“Let's go somewhere else. I don't know if Hank or Storm will get much done in here this afternoon.”



Jean apologized once more and followed Wolverine outside. Wanting to avoid the chaos inside the mansion around the weekend as well as enjoy the warm weather, he led his student to the front yard. They took a seat on a nearby bench.



“All right. So, you wanna tell me what's up?”



“I really don't know,” Jean murmured, turning away from Logan to hide her embarrassment. “Ever since I've been working one-on-one with the professor, it seemed like I was getting a hold on my powers. So I just don't understand why suddenly I can't do anything right.”



“You stressed about something?” Hadn't Hank mentioned something last month about how Jean was denied entrance into yet another college because of her mutation? Maybe she was more upset about it than she let on.



“That's not it at all,” she said, having read his thoughts without meaning to. “I mean, sure, it didn't feel great to be shot down because of my genetics. But I'm actually glad to stay here. The institute is my home, and I'd probably be much happier helping people like me than hiding who I am somewhere else.”



“Then... is something wrong between you and Slim?”



“Not really. Scott has been great.”



Wolverine didn't want to mention this, but it didn't take a psychic to sense the tension between Jean and the new mutant. And if he had to guess, it was probably over Cyclops – though he had no idea why. “What about Emma?”



She stiffened at the mention of the blond's name. “No.”



“Come on now,” he said. “I may not read minds, but I ain't stupid.”



“But it's not because of Scott.” Wolverine groaned inwardly. Sometimes he really hated telepaths. “She may be interested in him, but he is definitely not into her.”



Wolverine examined his watch. He really did care about his charges, but he was no good at therapy. If she wanted to get something off her chest, she'd volunteer the information. Until then, Wolverine didn't see the point in pressing her.



“You know that Emma is trying to teach Rogue how to control her power, right?”



He fished a cigar from the front pocket of his flannel shirt and stuck it between thin lips. Lighting a match with the sole of his boot, he lit up and took a drag. “No,” he exhaled. “I had no idea.”



Jean sighed. “I don't want to get involved in other people's business – ”



“Stripes sure as hell wouldn't appreciate it,” he muttered.



“Yeah, well, neither Rogue nor Emma is happy with my interference,” she conceded. “But something about Emma hasn't sat right with me since she got here. And I certainly don't approve of her methods – Emma and Rogue are lovers, and I assume that relationship formed during their 'lessons'.”



Logan nearly choked on his cigar. “What?” he coughed.



“They've been sleeping together.”



He took a moment to process this new information, trying desperately to purge the unwelcome image of Emma and one of his favorite students engaged in Sapphic love-making. He closed his eyes, then opened them to see Jean looking at him expectantly.



“Look... maybe I shouldn't touch this one. Maybe you should talk to Chuck.”



“So, what?” she huffed. “You're okay with that?” Her anger and resentment threatened to bubble over, and she was unaware that these barely repressed emotions were causing various lawn ornaments to float and hover around the two mutants.



Logan shook his head, ignoring a flying garden gnome who met his end when he collided with the brick walls of the institute. “It ain't my place to say.”



“It isn't appropriate,” Jean protested. Her eyes flashed with something that made Wolverine extremely uneasy. And worried.



“They're both adults,” he said cautiously. One more careless comment and Xavier might have to redo the landscape as well as the Danger Room.



“I don't trust her,” she snapped. “And I can't believe how easy it is for every one else to do so.”



An image of Jean taking a hammer to Emma's diamond form flashed through his mind – probably from Jean. The girl was projecting her emotions heavily. And that definitely wasn't normal for Jean.



Wolverine chewed on his stoogie, trying to choose words that wouldn't further upset her. “It's good not to let down your guard, kid,” he finally replied. “But Emma hasn't done anything to suggest she ain't one of the team. My advice to you is to let it go. And to talk to the professor.” He nodded to a wind chime that went from the porch straight to Roberto's nose. He had been showing off his basketball skills in front of Rahne, and didn't appreciate the humiliation. “Whatever is going on with your powers, he can probably help you.”



Jean narrowed her eyes and hastily rose from her seat. “Or maybe I should ask Emma to help,” she snarled. “After all, she's doing such a great job helping Rogue. She's perfectly in control of her powers.”



He watched the redhead stomp off, and whistled under his breath. Whatever was going on in this mansion, Wolverine wanted no part in it. He couldn't stand cat fights. Women could be so nasty to each other. And he was supposed to be the only one with claws here anyway – well, besides Laura.



“God, I need a beer,” he muttered.



x x x



When Rogue came into Emma's suite, she spied the blond woman lying in bed with the television on. Judge Judy currently counseled on tenant/landlord disputes, and Emma looked about as interested as any white collar woman could be over blue-collar pseudo-courtroom drama. Rogue switched the set off as she sauntered over to the bed, figuring the telepathy wouldn't miss the program much.



“Hey,” she said, flopping down at the foot of the mattress. “How ya holdin' up?”



She blinked. “Oh, it's you. I'm fine, I suppose. Just tired.”



“Is that the reason you took a one-way trip to la-la land last night?” Rogue gave her lover a concerned look.



“According to Hank at least.”



“Yeah?”



Emma's brows furrowed in frustration “He hypothesized my fatigue was a result of using my primary and secondary mutation together. For some reason, they aren't compatible – probably because they had not manifested together.”



“So you gotta abandon one power to use the other?”



“Yes. Based on my CAT scan results, Mr. McCoy warned me that if I do not follow his advice, I run the risk of sustaining severe brain damage – or worse.” Emma looked away as if embarrassed. She didn't like having to admit a short-coming like that. Especially when she was convinced that she could never be any good on the team if she couldn't use both powers at once. Offense without defense was practically worthless, and vice versa.



“I reckon that means no mind-powers with nookie, huh?” Rogue sighed when Emma looked far from amused. “I'm sorry. That sucks. And you know I ain't any good at this sorta thing. Can I do anythin' to help?”



“You can start with a foot-massage,” Emma replied cheekily, wiggling her painted toes in Rogue's lap.



“I hate feet.”



“Mmm.” Emma smiled, still wiggling her toes wildly. “But you love *my* feet.”



Rogue acquiesced, but not without a heavy, theatrical sigh, working her thumb and forefinger into her lover's arch. Emma practically purred in delight, forgetting all about her problems – at least momentarily.



“All right, I'll pamper you for now. But, in return, you gotta start talkin' 'bout what the hell happened last night.”



The telepath laid back in rapture, head sinking into her over-stuffed feather pillows. “Darling, how drunk *were* you? You were there. We were attacked. Remember?”



She pressed a little too hard into Emma's heel, making her wince and think twice about sarcasm. “Not what I meant, smart ass. That woman, Selene. You know her? She sure as hell seemed to know you.”



Emma's expression darkened. “Yes, I do know her.”



“Well, great,” Rogue hissed through gritted teeth. “Mind tellin' me how y'all got acquainted? Old prom queen rivals, or somethin'?”



“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes. “It might surprise you, but I was hardly popular in high school.”



“Jealous of the tits?”



“I was an A-cup before I discovered the wonders of silicon,” Emma snapped, because Rogue ought to know for all the memories she absorbed. “At any rate, it's not easy being the rich kid in school. Every achievement was perceived as purchased – and that was before my mutation caused me to become a 'freak.'” She sighed. “No, I didn't meet Selene until much later. But she was the one who made me into what I am.”



“So she was yer plastic surgeon?” Rogue didn't mean to be so sassy, but she couldn't help it. Emma was being purposely vague, and it aggravated her.



Emma kicked Rogue's thigh with her right foot. “No, dummy. The White Queen. Selene is Hellfire's Black Queen. She discovered me one night when I was... removed from a casino.”



“What did you do to get kicked out?”



“Oh, just using my power to rake in chips at the poker table. They had no idea I was a mutant, of course, but they did know I was cheating *somehow*. That's when Selene approached me. She told me she knew who I was – what I did back there – that she could help me make *real* money with my gift. I was young, scared, and, more importantly, destitute. So, I went with her. She introduced me to Sebastian Shaw, who petitioned for my induction into the Inner Circle. But Selene- she's the reason for it all. Even for my departure. She opened my eyes to... well, a lot of things.”



“I'm sorry,” Rogue snickered. “I was listenin'. It's just... White Queen? Black Queen? Ya never told me Hellfire was just one big, racist chess game.”



“This is very serious,” Emma rebuked sharply, surprising Rogue, who finally managed to contain her laughter. “Silly names, perhaps, but serious business. Selene is over a thousand years old. She has more power than I could ever hope to achieve in a lifetime. You saw what she did to those bystanders at the bar. To Selene human and mutant life means nothing compared to the immortality of a goddess.”



“'Scuse me? Did you just say goddess?”



“Selene fancies herself a goddess. And if it weren't for Shaw and Leland trying to make her toe the line, she might very well be. Even in a seven-to-one match, she almost murdered all of us. You bore witness to that.”



“Yeah, but.... what does this have to do with us? Why did she attack me first? I don't understand...”



“What do you fear most, Rogue?” Emma leaned forward and gave Rogue a hard stare – one that chilled her. Emma could be so cold sometimes. “Losing yourself to your power... instead of fearing it, embracing it – using it on anyone – everyone – just for the thrill of it. That's what Selene does. She came to that bar looking for prey for no reason at all. The fact that you survived piqued her interest.”



“What does the professor say? Should we be worried about bein' attacked again?”



Emma shrugged. “He's a bit preoccupied with giving mutants a P.R. Face-lift, especially with all those strange mutant-related crimes as of late. Xavier advised me to lie low and suggested that Hellfire might come after me... or after you.”



“Me?”



“I'm positive that she's already done research on you after our brief confrontation. Once she discovers more about your powers... Well, I wouldn't be surprised if she's already sewing you a Hellfire costume.”



“And craftin' you some shackles?”



“It's possible. But Sebastian is the party most sore about my betrayal. If I know Selene well enough, and I'd like to think I know her pretty well, she is likely using my absence to plan a mutiny against him.”



Rogue allowed some time for the information to sink in. Okay, at least she knew more about that crazy woman. But she still had so many questions... Like, why did she and Selene have such uncannily similar powers? And what about the relationship between the Black and White Queen? Emma knew a lot more about Selene than a former colleague should. The way Emma talked about Selene... it was almost like hearing the professor speak of Magneto. Sure, Emma clearly feared Selene and disapproved of her methods. Yet that fear was not without respect. Were the two estranged friends, like Charles and Erik? Lovers? And if they were friends, or had been friends, did that mean Emma had been as twisted and vicious as Selene? Hellfire never forced Emma to join them.



Not that Rogue didn't believe in the concept of redemption – she herself was living proof that villains could become friends if given the chance to change. But Rogue had a reason to *want* to change. She didn't like being ignorant or misled, and she had figured that the X-Men were the most likely to help her and the least likely to lie to her. After Emma had come to the institute, however, she realized just how little she knew – about Emma, about herself, about the professor and his X-Men... and whatever else there was out there.



Emma snapped two fingers in front of Rogue's eyes. “Earth to Rogue.”



“Hmm?”



“I asked if you wanted to continue our lessons today. I'm tired of talking about Hellfire. Let's move on to something more interesting.”



“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Rogue inquired. “You just got outta the infirmary, after all.”



Emma rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the concern, Rogue, but, honestly, if I don't get to do something productive today, I'm going to lose my mind. Missing the Danger Room session was bad enough.”



Rogue decided not to tell Emma about what had happened. Instead, she asked, “What did ya have in mind?”



Without warning, the blond closed the distance between them, crawling on all fours like a panther and capturing Rogue's bare lips in hers. Immediately, Rogue's power began to take from Emma. But when the younger mutant tried to pull away, Emma held her firmly in place by placing a hand on the back of Rogue's neck.



“Don't fight,” Emma murmured, still riding out the transfer. “I want you to practice with my power again so that maybe you can use the skills for your own power.”



When she finally released Rogue, the Southern woman shrank back, head reeling from the pleasure of skin-to-skin contact and the absorbed powers and psyche. “What do you mean, usin' your power to help me use mine? You want me to practice with your diamond form again?”



“I've been thinking,” Emma said after she had caught her own breath. “You shoot yourself in the foot every time you use your power, assuming that you will absorb someone and hoping – rather than trying to make it a reality – that some miracle might turn your power off. It's like going into sex with the attitude that orgasm is a chore, that only with luck or some twist of fate you may climax. But that's not how it really works. You know it will happen – you make it happen, yes?”



“I guess so.” But Rogue didn't see why Emma had to make everything connect back to sex.



“So, you assume you can't control your power. You never go into battle with the attitude that you will and can control it. And yet, you never doubt your ability to use other people's powers. It's exciting and new – it's a challenge. You're confident in borrowed skin. So maybe, just maybe, I can teach you how to use that confidence in your own skin.”



“What, you want me to read everybody's minds?” She shivered. “I dunno about that, Em. I ain't big on the prospect of knowin' all my teammate's dirty secrets.”



“Just my mind and my dirty secrets.” Emma smiled as she activated her diamond skin. “The natural mental shields that snap up with my diamond form will make this activity a bit more difficult for you.” She then began unbuttoning her blouse. “And hopefully fun.”



“Wait, you want me to read your mind while we're havin' sex? That's just plain weird. I'm not sure I wanna see what's in your head while we're doin' the dirty.”



“My power isn't just about taking from others,” she corrected, unperturbed. “I can also plant thoughts, suggestions, emotions into the minds of others. During sex, it can be especially exciting. Do you know, for example, that there are many erogenous areas in the mind?”



Emma shrugged off the shirt, then reached down to shimmy out of her skin tight pencil skirt. She posed as if she were a glittering, fifties pin-up model, and Rogue throbbed at the sight. Miss Frost had opted to wear white stockings and garters along with a white lace thong and a matching plunge bra. If this moment occurred in one of the weird anime shows Jubilee always watched with Amara and Tabitha, Rogue was sure she would have an epic nosebleed.



“Like what you see?” Emma teased, running her hands along her sides, her smooth stomach, her perfect breasts. “If you project your fantasies any louder, the whole mansion might hear.”



Rogue didn't know it would be that easy for her own thoughts to slip out like that. She had always assumed that psychics could hear only the thoughts of others. She never thought it could go the other way. Jean was always “accidentally” picking up on the private thoughts of others, at least so Rogue thought. Now she wasn't so convinced that Jean had that much more control than Rogue did.



“How do I keep my thoughts to myself?”



“Concentrate,” the blond murmured, reaching her right hand into her bra cup and playing with the erect pink nipple within.



“That's not fair,” Rogue whined, her fantasies growing even more lurid by the second. When Emma's left hand traveled down to her panties, the younger mutant couldn't stand it. She managed to keep her hands off Emma physically, but she could not stop her psychic hands from violating the diamond encased woman.



Emma moaned loudly when Rogue's thoughts reached her mind. Despite the barrier her diamond skin gave her against psychic attacks, this one reached her with full force. Rogue dug her fingernails deep into Emma's hard skin. The peculiar nails-on-chalkboard screech reverberated through the room, only slightly muffled by Emma's earnest cries as Rogue's mouth busied itself below the deck. It felt so good that it took a few seconds for telepath to realize that Rogue wasn't actually touching her.



“So impulsive,” she murmured, quite turned on by the whole exchange, but not willing to concede her point. Rogue wasn't nearly good enough to best the White Queen. “That is your strength, as well as your curse. What you need to learn is finesse. See how effortlessly I put you in your place.”



Rogue was about to reply that she couldn't see anything– until she noticed that Emma had abandoned her diamond form. A psychic attack came straight at her. She was a paralyzed with fear and desire. Her whole body sang out in pleasure, and yet it couldn't even move to express it. Then Emma hit something else with that probing power of hers, something that made Rogue feel light and tingly all over – teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. She could barely hear her own voice groan.



“I've found your pressure points, little girl.” Emma said, swooping in on her vulnerable target. “I'm going to undress you now. I wonder, can you stop me?”



Rogue's mind gave a silent scream, but Emma instantly understood her fears. She pulled a pair of long, white gloves from the bed stand and shoved them on her thin fingers. “Even if I can't use my diamond form to shield me from your power, I won't touch anything without these gloves.” She smirked, unzipping Rogue's favorite black miniskirt. “I'll only be in danger if you can somehow manage to twitch. But I doubt that it's possible. With your mind in my control, you won't be able to do anything until I give you permission.”



“Emma, you bitch-!”



“Tsk, tsk.” She issued a sound slap to Rogue's stomach. The girl gasped, but otherwise did not move. “Don't interrupt Miss Frost while she's working.”



She removed the skirt, then began rolling the tights down Rogue's legs. She stopped at the ankle to give Rogue's well-crafted calf a long lick. The captive moaned. Emma chuckled and slid Rogue's panties down her legs as well.



“My, my,” she remarked, getting a good look at Rogue's swollen pussy. “You're rather wet already. Aren't you going to fight back, or are you giving it up to me so easily?”



“C-can't move,” came her weak reply.



“Oh, poor baby. Okay, I'll give you permission to move – but just this once.”



Her body rocked as Emma sent another wave of pleasure through her, stroking a part of Rogue's mind that she didn't even know existed. All her darkest fantasies came alive. Emma taking Rogue in the closet just outside of the living room, making her come over and over again as she hummed the tune to whatever the new recruits had on television, exploring wet folds with a well-trained tongue. Rogue had to scream her orgasm into Amara's over-stuffed coat so that the other X-Men couldn't hear them.



Rogue found herself incredibly turned on by the next fantasy – one in which Emma ravaged her as the male mutants watched tied to a chair, helpless to relieve their massive hard-ons.



“Stop it, Emma!” Rogue cried, trying desperately to prevent Emma's nimble fingers from removing the rest of her clothing. But she still couldn't move.



“Then make me,” Emma hissed, pinching Rogue's left nipple and rolling the other one between her thumb and forefinger. “If you can't come up with something, then you'll never stand a chance against Selene. She'll have you at her mercy, just like I have you now.” Her touch became more sadistic. “Maybe you're weaker than I thought you were, hmm?”



“I'm not weak!” Rogue snapped. Angered and hurt, she somehow managed to conjure up Emma's diamond skin. “You're the weak one. You can't use both y'r powers at once. But I can.”



Emma's eyes widened in surprise as Rogue used the same pressure points against her – even while she kept the diamond coating to her skin. She hadn't the time to react – either to shield herself or send out her own attack. Defeated, Emma lay flat on her back and still as a corpse. Rogue climbed on top of her triumphantly.



“I really hate you sometimes,” Rogue said, peering down at her lover. “I hope you know that.”



“What do you intend to do about it?” Emma was dripping wet. Seeing Rogue take an aggressive, dominating role made her hot as hell. And seeing all those muscles and curves hardened into a precious gem wasn't bad either.



“I'm going to make you come so hard, y'r gonna wish that Momma and Daddy never made you.”



White Queen nearly moaned in response to the words alone. Fuck, either Rogue was seriously good at wielding her psychic powers, or Emma was apparently a mess for hot Southerners with big tits and even bigger attitudes.



But she didn't have much time to ponder these thoughts, as Rogue was tearing literally ripping her underwear off and rubbing her cool diamond fingers along her moist slit.



“It feels different than when you're in diamond form and I'm not,” the Mississippian commented softly.



“It feels good,” Emma whimpered, unconsciously grinding her pelvis against Rogue's hands in a depraved frenzy.



“Stay still,” Rogue commanded, and Emma did as she said because who could argue with the jolts pleasure her captor was so generously dispensing in her mind. “You're going to be the submissive one this time.”



Emma gave a look of disbelief.



“I mean it,” she said forcefully. “If you so much as blink, I'll punish you.”



She writhed. Oh, Emma liked to be punished. Oh, yes indeed. She would've never guessed – not until she met Selene. It had been the first time she'd really made love to a woman, and Black Queen made sure that it was a time to remember. She had spent entire days tied to the woman's bed as the power-hungry witch spent hours licking her pussy but never allowing her to climax. It was infuriating and intoxicating all at the same time – making that final release even sweeter.



So when Rogue returned with Emma's fuzzy handcuffs, the blond shivered with desire. She wasted no time in securing Emma to the bed before making her way to her quivering cavern once more. Emma thrust her hips into Rogue's mouth when her teasing kisses along her thigh proved too much.



But Rogue wasn't having it. “You don't do anythin' til I give you permission. How's that for table-turnin'?”



“Please...”



Rogue pressed her fingers into Emma's thighs as she spread the woman apart and lightly flicked her tongue along the exposed pink nub. When Emma tried to trap Rogue's head, Rogue decided to put the blond in her place by biting down on her clit.



“Ouch!” Emma shrieked. “You little bitch!”



“Shut up or I'll do it again,” Rogue threatened darkly. “You like it anyway, don't you?”



Emma figured the plenitude of feminine juices dripping onto her bedspread pretty much answered that question. Rogue smiled to herself, giving a few more flirty licks to Emma's pleasure spot.



Then she raised the stakes, thrusting her tongue into Emma with a force and a furious pace. Rogue drove her tongue deeper than Emma ever thought possible, making sure to press its tip on that special place inside of Emma that Rogue knew made her wild.



“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Emma yelped, not pleased that her current state left her enable to muffle the sound of her satisfaction with one of the nearby pillows.



The thought tickled Rogue's mind. She shook her head, licking Emma even faster now. “No,” she murmured into Emma. “I wanna hear how much you want it. Tell me.”



Rogue stopped her spelunking journey to suck on Emma's clit. The woman's legs turned to jelly. She swore to God she could barely even breathe.



“I'm waiting,” Rogue murmured, sucking harder.



“Ohhhh my God,” Emma breathed, panting. “Please, Rogue!”



“Please, what?”



“Let me come,” she moaned. “I'm going to come.”



Rogue's tongue returned to probing Emma's insides. She lapped up the blond's juices like it was the most delicious cocktail in the world, slurping and moaning and making sure to explore every inch of Emma, her hard, diamond state adding much more pressure and pleasure than anything her normal mouth could do.



Within a matter of minutes, Emma came. And when Rogue had no intentions of stopping and continued to lick and suck and even thrust in two fingers, she came again. And again. All the while singing her pleasure so loudly that even Storm in the attic must have heard their love-making.



When it was all over, Rogue detached herself from between Emma's legs and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.



Emma didn't speak or move for quite sometime. When she finally found her voice, she looked down at Rogue and smiled weakly. “You know, don't you? That Selene and I were lovers?” It would certainly explain Rogue's sudden interest in “punishing” her.



The other woman nodded. “And I gotta say that I hope ya taped y'rselves. Could make a fortune in the S&M porn market.”



“You don't... mind?”



“I'm not sure what to think about it,” Rogue replied truthfully. “You just sat there and told me that she was evil. And the first thing I see when I absorb your memories – when I get your fantasies – is images of that woman and you... together. How am I supposed to feel?”



“Rogue, what happened between Selene and I... it's over. I won't lie to you and say that I didn't feel something for her. But our relationship was complicated to say the least.”



Rogue rested her chin on Emma's belly. “Yeah, there seemed to be a lot of love and hate concernin' her,” she murmured. “Mostly lust, though.”



“I was a weak woman myself, back then.” Emma frowned, a familiar darkness clouding her otherwise bright features. “I'd like to think that I've changed, but sometimes I'm not so sure.”



x x x



TO BE CONTINUED...



End Note: Thanks for the reviews and your patience. Sorry that it took so long to update! Double sorry if this chapter isn't the best. Just finished a semester from hell – 18 semester hours – GYAH! Hopefully summer will allow for more updates. I'm thinking more plot/character development – involving more of Jean because she's been absent lately. I'll probably visit Selene at Hellfire to see what she's up to. Pretty bummed that it would be too abrupt to bring her in just yet, but cannot wait for her to take center stage.



Big thanks to the music of Metric and Ladytron. Their electro-beats kept me typing even when my brain wasn't cooperating.



Also, one last thing: If anyone has some extra time and interest in this story, I would really appreciate someone beta'ing for me. It's hard for me to catch my own mistakes, and I hate making my readers trudge through typos and grammatical issues. Let me know.