Of Queens and Demons

Despite the fact that Scott was not madly in love with Emma Frost and despite the fact that Emma had made it a point to stay out of the senior telepath’s way, Jean Grey could not fight the feeling of animosity that coursed through her veins every time she thought about the new student. It did not help that when she went over her lesson plan for Telepathy 101, Professor Xavier seemed to think the two rivals should join forces. This proved the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Professor, I’ve worked for months on this!” Jean objected. “And now you want me to throw away all of that work?”

“You’ve done an exemplary job, Jean,” Xavier replied calmly, “but I’m not asking you to change anything. I’m only asking you to share the responsibility with your fellow telepath. I think the both of you might learn something from this experience.”

“It was supposed to be my class. Why does everything have to change just because she suddenly came into our lives?”

The professor had sensed some uneasiness in the mansion since Emma Frost had taken residence there, but he had never expected that its source was his best student. She was upset. She thought he wanted to replace her. He would have to choose his words carefully. As a perfectionist, Jean was very sensitive to criticism. She must have perceived the last minute change as a personal offense.

“Jean, let me explain. You and Emma are both telepaths and remarkable students. It may surprise you, but Emma has already graduated from Harvard. She wanted a teaching position here, and I figured that Telepathy 101 would be perfect for her.”

Jean opened her mouth to object again, but Xavier pressed on. “I did not replace you, Jean. I merely added another telepath to the roster. It will be beneficial for the students to learn the wonders and dangers of telepathy from two different mutants. The two of you differ significantly in power and personality. You truly care for you teammates, but sometimes your emotions may manifest in sheer power. Emma’s powers function as the opposite. She has learned over the years how to control her powers as well as her emotions, and even created a sort of shell to protect her body, which had at times proven vulnerable whenever she focused her psychic powers. You have grown remarkably, Jean, and I believe you may one day rival even me. Yet your powers can get the best of you. Do you remember the time you fought Mystique?”

“I remember,” Jean answered, “but I couldn’t help that. Scott was in danger – I couldn’t concentrate when – ”

“Precisely,” Xavier interrupted, joining his hands to form a steeple – his trademark “listen-up” gesture. “You are caring and empathetic. Those are admirable qualities, but sometimes, in the heat of battle, they can also be dangerous. Emma Frost does not let such things bother her. From what I have observed, she is nearly always cool and collected. Some might even say that she is cold and distant.”

“And?”

“If you two work together, I think you may learn from each other’s strengths and differences. That is why I would like you both to teach the class.” He grimaced. “Moreover, Emma is… not very mindful of ethics when using her power. I felt her trying to probe Rogue this morning, not that it did her much good. You have always been mindful of your fellow teammates’ privacy, and I hope that working with you in battle as well as in the classroom might cure Emma of this bad habit.”

Jean wanted to scream. She had never questioned the professor. Even when she did not personally agree with the course of action he chose, Jean always followed her mentor to the very end. But she could not do what he asked of her this time. She would not work with Emma Frost. She could not! Without another word to the professor, Jean Grey left the study, slamming the door behind her. Incredible rage bubbled from inside, and Jean’s emotional instability left telekinetic mess in its wake.

“What’s with her?” Jubilee asked, dodging a vase that nearly collided with her head as Jean sped down the hallway.

“I don’t want to know,” Boom Boom remarked.

“Maybe it’s that time of month,” Iceman suggested, but soon regretted his explanation, as two angry girls began chasing him around the house.


* * *


“Nice ride,” Rogue commented with a low whistle.

Emma clicked a button on her keychain that unlocked the doors to her white Mazda convertible. “I bought it last year after an investment paid off,” she explained. “I’m glad you like it. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

The Southern belle sank into the white leather seats and sighed contentedly. Comfortable was an understatement. Even Cyclops’ car wasn’t this fancy. She surveyed the interior. White carpet. White steering wheel. White seats. White iPod connected to a white stereo. Why wasn’t she surprised? “I didn’t know these cars came in all-white.”

Emma slid in the drivers’ seat and started the engine. She pulled the seatbelt over her chest. Rogue followed suit. “They don’t. I had to custom order it.”

“What’s with you and white anyway? I thought the rule was ‘no white after Labor Day’.”

“Can’t a girl have a favorite color?”

Rogue examined her gloves awkwardly. “I guess.” She looked out the window to catch Kitty and Jean climbing into the X-Van, presumably to see the movie. Jean met Rogue’s eyes. She did not bother to mask the disgust in her expression, probably for consorting with the “enemy.” Rogue couldn’t blame her, though. She definitely knew what jealousy felt like. And yet… what did Jean have to be jealous of? Emma did not seem any better off than Jean – richer, perhaps, but Jean never seemed like a girl to worry about the superficial. Rogue almost felt a pang of sympathy for Emma Frost. Perhaps it was because she herself was still a little jealous of Jean Grey, in spite of all the progress they had made as teammates and eventually friends. She sighed and pressed her cheek against the window. “Star soccer player. Valedictorian. Scott Summers’ girlfriend. And still she wants more…” she thought aloud.

“Hmm?” Emma asked, then spotted Kitty and Jean. “Oh.” She pulled out of the driveway and drove for several minutes without speaking. “Rogue,” she said finally, “does Jean have something against me?”

Rogue looked up. “Well… I dunno. Maybe. Jean’s a nice girl, don’t get me wrong, but… she’s sure possessive.”

“Of Scott?”

“Of most things.”

Emma, noticing how the atmosphere thickened at the mention of Cyclops, encouraged Rogue to put on some music. The younger mutant scrolled through a few songs before selecting some electronic version of “I Wanna Be Your Dog”. Emma did not have to read Rogue’s mind to know how she felt about Scott Summers. Besides, several students had already informed her of the torch Rogue supposedly still held for the leader of the X-Men. Anyone in similar circumstances would abhor Jean, and perhaps even Emma, who had shown obvious interest in the boy. Yet Rogue did not hate Emma, and exercised considerable effort to avoid speaking badly of Jean. Could Emma have simply misread the situation?

“I heard that you admired Cyclops a great deal,” she said. “If it’s not too rude or presumptuous of me to ask… were you interested in him?”

“Yeah... well… it wouldn’t matter either way,” she muttered. “He only has eyes for Jean. That’s why it’s so weird for her to think you’re any sort of threat.”

“I’m a threat?”

“You’re a hot blonde with telepathic powers and plenty of money. I’m pretty sure some people would consider that a threat…”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Emma mused. She grew quiet and decided to let the stereo fill the silence until the pair arrived at the mall.

Emma suggested Bayville’s most expensive department store as a starting point, and Rogue, who never really liked shopping much to begin with, could find no reason to argue. But as they pair passed a rack of very un-Rogue blouses and jackets, the sullen mutant began to wonder if going along with Emma’s plan was really the best idea. “Uh… not to sound like a stick-in-the-mud or ungrateful or anythin’, but… are you sure this is really the best store to begin with?”

“Hmm…” Emma pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “You know, I think you’ve made an interesting point.”

Rogue relaxed and agreed to visit a different store. However, upon seeing the boutique Emma had in mind as a replacement, she took a bewildered step back. “Victoria’s Secret? Are you kiddin’ me?”

“Of course not,” she replied, giving Rogue an encouraging shove inside. “One should always start with what goes under the clothes. Good underwear makes or breaks any outfit.”

“I don’t think anyone’s gonna see me in any underwear,” she protested, briefly imagining, despite her best efforts in the contrary, meeting Gambit in nothing but the lacy, black bra and thong that a mannequin wore. She blushed. “Besides… I’m more of a function over fashion gal, anyway.”

“Don’t be silly. What’s your size?” Before Rogue could answer, Emma had already flagged down an employee to give the mutant a proper fitting.

“Wait – what – d-don’t do that!” she yelled as the employee wrapped a measuring tape around Rogue’s impressive bust.

“36-D,” the girl confirmed.

Emma laughed in a way that sounded more like a purr. “Hmm… you are quite blessed. Now, let’s see. Please bring us a few styles in that size. Oh, but I do especially want a black, lace demi. I think that would look exquisite, don’t you, Rogue?” She grew increasingly animated as she dug through piles of satiny underwear. “And some panties, too.” She glanced briefly at Rogue’s derriere. “Hmm… I’d guess medium.”

“Any particular color, ma’am?”

“Oh, why don’t you bring whatever you can find?”

The blonde dragged a speechless Rogue into the dressing room. Already holding a few items that had caught her eye on the way to the fitting rooms, Emma made no motion to exit the stall. Rogue blushed a second time. “Y-you’re gonna stay in here with me?!”

“Why not? I am your fashion advisor. Besides, it’s not like you have something I haven’t seen before.”

“T-that’s not the point!” Rogue returned. She was becoming a little flustered. “This was not what we agreed to.”

“Don’t be a baby, Rogue…” Emma handed a purple thong and matching bra to her companion. “Now, don’t be shy. Try it on.”

“Can’t you at least turn around or somethin’?”

“Oh, all right.” She rolled her eyes and did as Rogue asked, though with theatrical reluctance. Rogue slipped off her clothes, fumbling with zippers and buttons in her embarrassment. The bra and thong took even longer to pull on, as Rogue merely stared in wonder at how little skin the garments covered. She could not figure out what part went where for quite sometime.

After a few failed tries, Rogue finally got the undergarments on. Emma turned around. The bra was a perfect fit, and the milky white cleavage that spilled from the violet lace was truly remarkable. It accentuated her tight stomach, toned from training even as it appeared soft and yielding. The panties dipped dangerously low, nearly two inches below her bellybutton. As she circled around, Emma caught the pale, round ass that seemed so natural and feminine. What a figure! Even Emma, who had never been unhappy with her body, did not boast the graceful, proportionate curves that Rogue did. “That looks fabulous,” she said finally, giving a low wolf-whistle.

“It’s ridiculous,” Rogue countered and frantically tried to cover herself by crossing her arms and legs. “Who the hell is even gonna see this?”

“Whomever you wish. Why? You don’t have a boyfriend, Rogue?”

“No… it’s not… I mean… my power... it doesn’t really make that kind of thing easy…”

Suddenly, Emma Frost was behind her. Rogue could feel the girl’s breath on the nape of her neck, and it created goose-bumps all over her pale skin. “Such a pity,” she murmured. “I can just imagine how sexy this would look under a low-cut, black dress. You could even add some black stockings. Your powers do not stop people from looking at you, do they?”

“N-no. But what’s the point of seein’ me in underwear if no one can… can…”

That was it. Without telepathy, Emma had finally gotten to the heart of Rogue. On her first day at Xavier Institute, she had made a mental note of all the mutants she found fascinating both in terms of their physical and mutant power. Rogue was one of those mutants. Jean, too, to some extent. Though Emma was a telepath, she knew nothing of telekinesis and discovered from the younger students that Jean was quite strong. Scott was the other. She had used her conventional tactics for Scott. In a matter of seconds, she knew most things about him, from his childhood teddy’s name (it was Charlie) to his favorite sexual position (he preferred Jean on top, something that she would not have guessed).

Emma planned to get under Jean’s skin using Cyclops. But Rogue proved a more difficult project. The girl’s natural psychic defenses were simply staggering. Emma couldn’t sense a single stray thought. Up to the challenge, she decided to explore the mutant’s psyche using a new, unusual technique. From her conversations with students, Rogue’s stand-offishness was a defensive mechanism. They knew, from experience, that beneath the tough-girl façade, Rogue was actually quite insecure. Rogue both feared and craved intimacy. To stand before Emma in next-to-nothing left her vulnerable physically and mentally. Though Emma still could not read her mind, she was open like a book. She could sense Rogue’s thoughts from the way Rogue shrank from Emma’s proximity, terrified that even the slightest misstep would result in disaster.

“Don’t be afraid,” Emma whispered, touching Rogue’s elbow gingerly. The mutant started, expecting the transfer of power and personality that was synonymous with skin-to-skin contact. Instead, she felt nothing.

“W-what?” Rogue wheeled around. Emma had transformed into a shell of some sort of precious gem. It looked almost like Iceman’s frozen form, yet it was opaque and sparkly. Forgetting her revealing attire, Rogue stood with her hands to her side and stared. No one had told her about this…

Emma reached out a touched Rogue again, this time brushing her collarbone with her diamond-coated fingertips. “I want to help you.”

“H-help me?”

She nodded. “Your powers cannot affect me in diamond form.” She closed the gap between them and placed another hand firmly on the girl’s hip. “You yearn for touch. And with this shell, I can provide that. Unfortunately, it does not feel quite the same as skin against skin. But I can still feel how soft your skin is.” Her hand slid down Rogue’s side appreciatively. The caress was feather-light – a whisper more than a touch – yet Rogue could not hold back the moan that formed in the pit of her throat. “Besides,” this she said in a low, husky voice, “As Scott remains steadfast to Miss Grey, you are a much more worthwhile pursuit.” She sensed the girl’s unspoken shock and chuckled. “Oh, don’t act so surprised. I’m not one to confine myself to lovers of the opposite sex. Besides, you’re very beautiful…”

Rogue unconsciously sighed as Emma traced circles lazily on her bare stomach. Her heart hammered in her chest. Emma had invited her shopping… when exactly did that turn into… what exactly was she… Rogue didn’t… she couldn’t… she wasn’t… And Emma… she… she couldn’t be…

“To tell the truth,” Emma purred, as if picking up on Rogue’s hysterical thoughts, “I wanted a little something more than to buy you clothes. But if I had been honest in the kitchen, I’m afraid I would’ve scared you away. You aren’t the easiest person to get close to, you know.” She smirked. “I get what I want, Rogue. And I want you.”

“But I think we still have a few more things to buy,” she continued. “Let’s pick up a few more things here and move on. Just think about what I said…”