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"Damn you Potter, you will pay for this!" Magneto winced angrily as he sat down in his command chair in the control room of his current base of operations, rubbing at the metal that had replaced a chunk of his thigh. He scowled angrily at the memory of his defeat at that young wizard's hands, and then scowled even harder when he once more failed to remember where that defeat had occurred. He had tried every mental trick he could think of and nothing he did worked to get rid of the strange fog that blocked his memories of the place. He couldn't even remember anything about its location let alone what it looked like.
All that remained was the memories of the battle there, and the wounds he had sustained to his body as well as his ego. Magneto had long thought his mastery of electromagnetism had given him an almost insurmountable advantage, only to run into someone who could combat and bypass it. Not easily, the battle had been touch and go for both of them, but Potter could combat Magneto on an even footing and had beaten him in the end. It was true that the injuries Magneto had sustained weren't life threatening, but they and his own waning strength had forced him to retreat.
He had dodged just enough of the attack that had slammed into his chest to get out of that fight with nothing more than his skin shaved off and several cracked ribs. The ribs would heal in time, and a skin graft would eventually help the injury as well. The attack that struck his thigh however had obliterated a chunk of his flesh and a bit of bone. It was only luck that it had missed any of his major veins, but as it was, he had been forced to replace the missing chunk of flesh with metal and the grafting process there was slow and painstaking. The fact he had spent the last week doped up on painkillers (even with his mental control and abilities there was little he could do to stop the pain of missing so much of his thigh) was just icing on the cake of his irritation.
Luckily he had sent out orders before allowing his medical robots to put him under for the initial operation. First, he had sent one of his senior followers, Mastermind, to gather in the New York chapter of the Brotherhood of mutants. Jason Wyngarde located and lead away Quicksilver, Blob and Toad easily enough, but his attempts to find Avalanche had failed. He and Quicksilver had returned to New York with the X-men in their jet but Pietro had quickly made his escape. Lance had apparently stayed with the X-men and Mastermind had not wanted to stay around near Xavier to look for him. Some would call that cowardice, but Eric called it prudent. Despite Mastermind's abilities in illusion and memory manipulation he was no match for a telepath of Xavier's caliber, especially if that telepath was on his guard. And after the debacle Charles would almost certainly be on his guard.
The loss or apparent defection of Avalanche was worrisome, but despite their defeat at the hands of their X-men counterparts Blob and the other two were valuable pawns. Thus when he had finally been cognizant enough to read Magneto was happy to see a report from Jason that he had gotten them out of the country.
The fact one of his other followers, the assassin Fatale, had failed in her mission was much more worrisome. Pyro missing was a problem but as a senior follower of his, Candra was too valuable to lose. Of course neither she nor Pyro knew anything about his organization outside their own cell, but Candra was important for more than just her powers. The fact she had lost against Storm notwithstanding, she was also one of his best trainers, and her New Orleans branch, even without the presence of Candra and Pyro, were among his most dangerous and enthusiastic followers.
The fact she had apparently been snatched by a third party was disturbing as well. He only knew that because one of his spies in the American government had just been assigned to the new, and worryingly competent spy agency labeled SHIELD. the spy had passed on rumors that one of their teams had been taken out transporting Candra to one of their facilities. Magneto had sent another agent to the site of the attack, and that agent had actually been able to discern through his power of viewing the past of a specific place, more than SHIELD knew at this point. The American government having access to Candra's power was bad enough, but a third party absconding with one of his followers was something he would not allow to go unchallenged.
To that end, he spent a moment thinking of what to say before sending out a message to all his senior supporters. These were not trainers or anyone associated with the Brotherhood chapters. His senior agents were men and women he trusted to act on his plans alone and to do their best to further the cause of mutantkind without his looking over their shoulder. They were the multitool in his box, spies, saboteurs, revolutionists, they were all of these. At one point Mystique was such an agent, but she had been too good a trainer to continue to use in that capacity, and given her recent disappearance Eric was thankful for that. It meant she was out of the loop by a little under a year, and did not know enough about his plans to severely hurt him.
The system he used to contact them was a simple system. It translated what he was saying into a written code that they would be able to read and decode at their leisure, since each of his senior followers had a set local time they would check for such messages. The words would appear on computerized watches he had created himself, that none but the person he had given them to could use, matched to their own electromagnetic field. Not incredible, technologically speaking, when compared to what the likes of Doom, Stark, and Richards could come up with, he thought sardonically, but more secure than anything they've come up with so far.
After a moment he flicked a switch on his armrest then began to speak, several microphones hidden in the chair catching his voice easily. "After receiving certain information passed on to her, trainer Candra hunted down and was subsequently defeated by the mutant Storm, one of those foolish enough to follow Charles Xavier's dream of coexistence. When agents were sent to retrieve her from federal prison they found she had already been snatched by a third party. This cannot be borne, and I want you all on the lookout for them, they apparently have a uniform of dark blue and purple with white blank masks. If any of you spot something matching that description you are to get in touch with me immediately, regardless of long term projects. I am Magneto, I have spoken."
With that done, he sent out a similar message to his spies in America, though that was via a drop system, which was just as secure but had nothing that could lead his spies back to him. Those spies after all were not mutants for the most part, and were loyal to the almighty dollar rather than his cause.
Next he opened up another communication to two specific agents one after another. "Fatale, your report about Candra being abducted was well done, you did all you could for her for now, and that mission is now a bust. Head to Boston and meet up with X-23 at the safehouse there, the name its under is number sixty-two on the tertiary list and await further orders."
That done he changed to another line. "X-23, abort your present mission, your job so far has been exemplary, but I need you elsewhere. Head to Boston Massachusetts and meet with agent Fatale, the safehouse is under the sixty-second name on the tertiary list." Normally his agents would also need to be told what call sign to use, but Fatale and X-23 had worked together before.
With that communication on its way, Magneto leaned back, rubbing his thigh again. With the New York chapter of the Brotherhood gone I've lost a counterbalancing force to Charles' X-Men, but that doesn't matter. Without the brotherhood nearby, Charles will start to use his X-Men in wider areas, and that may give the two of them an opening to do…something. The most important thing about opportunity is to have resources available to take advantage of it. Both of them have natural mental defenses, and Fatale is a most excellent spy, she'll be able to blend in easily.
He snorted suddenly. "X-23 on the other hand hah!" X-23 had once been a vat grown mutant, the answer to the Weapon X program's need to figure out how to make their mind control perfect. Magneto had learned of the project and freed her, after all artificial or not she was still a mutant and she had talents he could use. She was one of his most loyal agents, but she was about as subtle as a hammer.
The task she had just been doing, shutting down a drug cartel in Mexico that had recently begun to target mutants to turn them into mindless drug-addicted enforcers had been nearing its conclusion simply because she had killed all of the cartel's senior members and everyone involved with that scheme. "X-23 will provide the muscle if necessary, she and Fatale work well together, and she will willingly follow Fatale's orders, making them a perfect pair for that task."
Eric gazed out the window that comprised one side of his control room out into the strange and wondrous prehistoric forest of what the natives called the Savage Land as he continued to plan. The loss of the gem can be borne, it was merely the easiest way to gain followers, not the only way. If not for Potter I would have also succeeded in removing Charles' precious X-Men, which was the main thrust of that scheme, either wining them over or marginalizing them. Grey's powers were far greater than I had been led to believe, but in the long term that is all the better. She will soon see the world as it truly is, without the rose tinted glasses Xavier has forced them all to wear, and when that happens, she and the others will join me.
He smiled faintly seeing a Brontosaurus in the distance. Until then, I should consolidate my position here. The gem and understanding its nature took up much of my time, but the resources in this land, both in material and in people, are too fascinating to ignore any longer.
With that idea in mind Magneto sent out orders to the rest of the New Orleans chapter via one of his most powerful followers and ordering them to be brought here as well as the Brazilian chapter of the brotherhood, giving its handler orders to bring his chapter here to the Savage land. It would take a while for them to arrive, they all couldn't move as fast as Exodus of course. But once they got here, they and the trio with Mastermind would give him enough numbers to start expanding his territory and dealing with the other odd powers here.
He shifted in his seat and winced again, looking down at his half-metal thigh. Good things come to those who wait Potter, I can wait for my revenge on you, until then there are other things more important to concentrate on.
OOOOOOO
Sunday morning found Jean waking up to a very odd position, wincing as the noise of the guys below them came up through the floor to make her head ring. Her legs were tangled up both in her covers and in Emma, who had somehow moved down from sharing the pillows with her to using her covers as a pillow, her arms around Jean's waist like one of those full body pillows. Emma was looking up at her now, her a smile on her face despite her eyes being narrowed in pain from the hangover Jean knew the other girl was also feeling.
Luckily my telepathic powers need me to consciously concentrate on them, but even so, hangovers for telepaths are very strange things, Jean reflected through the haze of her own, sending her projection into her mind to check on her defenses. Her defenses were still in place, but the belsham-trees were moving a little drunkenly, their tentacles waving slowly without direction, tangling up with one another. She could feel her power sort of pulsing out, hanging in the air of her room like a fog, and she could feel Emma's doing much the same, though not as much, her control better than Jean's. Or possibly her defense keeps her power from going out of control. After all a diamond isn't alive, so wouldn't be effected like my belsham trees.
According to the books she had read on occlumency the downsides of having created a living defense was that it responded in the way your imagination worked, which even with occlumency could surprise you, thought it could. This lead to the downside she was seeing now. However a living defense was much more reactionary and could also be an offensive weapon without their creator's direction. A diamond couldn't of course, and could be shattered with enough power.
Emma on the other hand barely felt Jean's power hovering about her, and had a wicked grin on her face despite her throbbing head as she looked up at the redhead. "Do you know your snore?"
Jean's eyes narrowed. "That is information you should keep to yourself unless you wish to learn how to fly the hard way. Besides, it was probably just because I was drunk last night." Jean wasn't certain if that made any sense, but it seemed like a good excuse to her.
"Oh don't worry," Emma replied, pushing herself up on her elbows. Her blond hair fell forward for a moment covering her eyes but it wasn't long enough to block the view she was, possibly inadvertently, showing the redhead of her cleavage. Jean tried to ignore that, and the strange amount of interest she had in that hidden valley.
"I wouldn't dream of sharing that information with anyone. Unless you irritate me course." Emma grinned wickedly.
Jean growled a little and as she untangled her legs from around Emma made a point of kicking her just slightly. The other girl fell off the bed with a brief gasp of surprise, but she popped up quickly, not bothering to right her shirt, which was now bunched up enough to show her silk, almost see through panties.
"Hmmf, a most violent response to my gentle tease." Emma smirked suddenly, reaching out with lightning reflexes to grab Jean's foot. "That reminds me of something Ororo mentioned last night, is it true you're ticklish?"
"EEEP!" Jean squeaked, sending a stab of pain through both their heads, but her instincts kept her moving trying to twist away, but she couldn't escape Emma's questing fingers. Laughing hysterically she twisted, reaching up and pulling Emma back down, flipping so that she was on top of the other girl, her own fingers reaching for the blonde's side.
After only a minute however, they both collapsed, the noise and movement aggravating their hangovers. "Why in the world do people think drinking is fun of they have to pay for it like this?" Jean grumbled, pushing Emma off her and trying to sit up, holding her head in one hand and wincing.
"They drink to forget, and seem to think the price well worth it." Emma said, her voice unexpectedly shifting from playful to cold and harsh. "The trick, I understand, is to never be sober enough to feel it." It certainly seems to work that way for my brother, she thought bitterly. The only family member she'd care to claim, and he was determined to drink and drug himself into an early grave thanks to their father's contempt of him.
Jean nodded, not asking what was behind her new friend's sudden change of behavior. She frowned suddenly, leaning back against the wall by her bed, staring at Emma.
Emma felt the redhead gaze on her and she looked up from searching around for her skirt. "What?"
"How did we click so easily?" Jean asked bluntly. "I doubt that kind of thing is normal for you, and I know it isn't normal for me." Not even these days since my mental block was removed. "I know it isn't, you know, a telepathic trick or anything on either of our parts, but I'm just wondering why."
Emma frowned a little, but nodded at the same time. "I see your point, and you're right it's not normal for me to be this friendly with anyone, let alone someone I just met." She reached down and pulled on her skirt, tossed aside as the two girls got ready for bed to give her some time to think before replying. "For my part at least, I think it is because you don't have anything physical to gain from being friends with you and vice versa. There are no business deals you could help me with, you're not important socially, there's no real monetary or societal upshot to your friendship for me. I, I also think that meeting another telepath near my own age, meeting someone like me, has been fun."
Jean nodded. "I guess that goes for me too. I mean I have Ororo as a friend…" They both grinned at one another remembering how the black woman acted last night. The drinking hadn't stopped when they got back to the mansion.
Ororo had supplied them with a few bottles of various liquors that Jean could see now spread out around her room. The Weather goddess had drunk a bit more than was really good for her, and become rather tipsy during a conversation about why there were so many fantasies about alien women in games and movies. Ororo had suddenly decided she was a Twi'lek dancer, and had tried to do a dance. But in the end was barely able to stand, let alone move to the music which had been a piece of classic instrumental music chosen by an equally drunk Emma. In fact both younger girls were wondering where the African woman was right now, as she had been asleep on the floor before the two of them crawled into Jean's bed.
The older woman had enjoyed her time with the younger girls. Having a sleepover and talking about nonsensical things like normal teenage girls was something she had never had the opportunity to do before, especially getting drunk, which was something that had put a cramp on her life at college. Obviously she couldn't have attempted it before Harry had created the amulet to severe her emotions from the local weather. Even before Xavier had found her she feared what a loss of control would do, despite not knowing where her powers came from. With Emma and Jean, she felt comfortable enough to try it, and had enjoyed herself a lot.
Jean continued, "And she's sympathetic but she doesn't really understand how strange and irritating it can be to have someone else thoughts in your head all of a sudden."
Emma nodded. They had shared stories about how their powers developed as well as some of their mishaps last night during breaks from dancing. Luckily neither telepath had felt the effect of the alcohol until much later.
Neither would admit to it, but by the time they had fallen asleep they were almost as drunk as Ororo, and this had an effect on their powers while they were sleeping. Emma had to repair her diamond wall when she woke up, and Jean's belsham-trees had failed a little in the night. This allowed their powers out to mix oddly with one another and their dreams had been very erotic, dominated by images of one another, Ororo and emerald eyes though neither remembered them consciously.
"So, friends?" Emma asked, feeling strangely vulnerable.
Jean nodded, and held out her hand. "Friends."
Emma shook her hand and suddenly smirked. "And now that that's out of the way, you must do something with your wardrobe! You have a sexy body, but your clothing is so last century, you only have a few outfits that I'd be caught dead in!"
Jean rolled her eyes, standing up and, after a moment of vertigo that nearly made her throw up moving to grab a pair of loose jeans and a button down shirt. "Your opinion on my fashion sense has been taken aboard, and will be thrown over the side as soon as we leave shore." Emma chuckled getting the Pratchett reference. "Come on oh fashion maven, let's go see if I can rustle us up some food before you leave."
Emma nodded, but this turned out to be unnecessary. The moment they opened the door they found a tray with several covered plate and two glasses of orange juice waiting for them. "Now who would have made this up for us?"
"Harry or Ororo," Jean replied, smiling softly as she reached down to grab the tray. She put the tray on her dresser, allowing Emma to uncover some of the plates as Jean went around cleaning up her room. "The two of them are the only real cooks around here. Well, I can cook too, but I'm so busy most days I never have the time."
Emma smirked even more, licking some sauce from a delectable turkey sandwich. "So, Harry and Ororo hmm… I wonder if Ororo was speaking of more than dancing when she said I'd have to wait my turn when she made Harry dance with you."
Jean shrugged, not wanting to answer that question and changed the subject, ignoring the war going on between her own desires and hopes and the rest of her mind.
OOOOOOO
At the same time that the two younger girls were waking up with their hangovers Harry and Ororo were spending some time in the arboretum, the weather goddess having proven to be one of those truly gifted people who simply did not suffer from hangovers.
Ororo had woken up at around three in the morning to head to the bathroom, still a little tipsy and out of it, then had gone in search of Harry wearing absolutely nothing through the halls, desiring to drag her boyfriend to bed and find if he was as good at making love as he was at foreplay.
She had interrupted Harry's work with the Harrytanium, and after spending ten minutes sniggering (something she would never do sober) at his utter lack of naming sense had tried to coax him back to her room. Instead Harry had kissed her lightly, summoned a bed, and tucked her in like a child simply kissing her lightly every time she tried to grab at him or get out of bed until she fell asleep. His reason was that he didn't want to take advantage of a drunk woman, and didn't want their first time together, and his first time going all the way with a girl period, to be while either one of them was drunk.
She had woken up like that and known her boyfriend hadn't pushed things in her inebriated state, falling even more for him because of it.
Now the two were cuddled up in the love seat wearing their normal attire for their morning time, though only after an intense make-out session, neither willing to take it farther when they could be interrupted. Well, Harry probably would be, but he followed Ororo's lead in this.
Ororo was curled up with a magazine detailing world news, while Harry was working on his laptop with Hedwig perched on the back of the seat, looking down at the screen with him.
An interrogative preck from the snowy owl interrupted the comfortable silence of the arboretum, and Ororo looked up, raising her head off Harry's shoulder to look up at Harry and his familiar. "No, I'm not going to use your name Hedwig, too distinctive." This was answered by another preck from the snowy owl and Harry's lips twitched. "Alright, Anastasia Ambrosius is a good one, I'll use that one. Now how rich should the young?" His tone made that word a question and Hedwig nodded her fierce head firmly. "Young lady who's just inherited some money from her dear old grandpa, and decided to buy stock in her crush's company on the off-chance she might be able to meet him sometime down the line. Now how much money should she have access to?"
Ororo laughed, reaching up and kissing the underside of Harry's jaw before leaning back against his shoulder. "You are so owl-pecked my Harry, though perhaps it is a good idea to leave coming up with names to Hedwig. Harrytanium, honestly, and you still haven't chosen a new name for your asteroid."
"Hmmf, rub it in why don't you?" Harry groused playfully then leaned down to kiss her on the lips when she opened her mouth to reply. The two continued to kiss for a time under Hedwig's amused gaze before pulling back, smiling at one another. "So anything interesting in the world abroad?"
Ororo held up her magazine slightly. "A few things, some trouble seems to be brewing in Egypt for example, and there is a new terrorist organization that has appeared recently, they seem to be operating only in Japan at present, but their crimes are most disturbing in their gruesomeness. Something seems to be occurring in Africa as well, a new nation is making itself known in the deep interior of Africa near Lake Turkana. It apparently has asked for representation on the UN and may be the source of a new metal named vibranium. The name of the country is Wakanda." She frowned slightly wondering why the name seemed a little familiar to her. But then again that wasn't odd, after all she had lived near there so she might well have met someone from this heretofore mysterious nation.
Harry nodded, having heard of vibranium before. The metal's properties interested him, but he already had Harrytanium to work with and from what he had read the toughness of the red metal was much higher than even adamantium. He was looking forward to seeing how his first attempt at recreating it did later.
That little project had taken up all of last night, but he had been able to conjure some more once he understood his properties. While he didn't want to continue to go that route, his analysis of it, using both magical and high tech means, had shown him the different base metals and other ingredients that went into it. The good news was that barring one type of metal that was almost more crystalline then metal on the atomic level he could buy the other ingredients in bulk without arousing any interest in his business. The conjured chunk of red metal had already passed every test he could put on it, though he still wanted Rogue and Scott to do some tests on it.
The two of them continued to converse quietly about the news until Emma and Jean came in. Jean blushed a bit at their state of dress then very deliberately concentrated on their faces, not at all noticing that Ororo's large breasts were on display mushed into Harry's shirtless side, which showed off his own incredibly fit body. Yes indeed, Jean was getting awfully good at lying to herself about these things…
Emma hadn't heard about Ororo's choice of morning attire or lack of nudity taboo, and so at first thought they had interrupted something, but after a second spent studying their body language realized that they were simply sitting there as if nothing was wrong and stopped blushing and staring through wide eyes.
Harry was smirking at them slightly, enjoying Emma's reaction.
Emma swiftly turned the tables on him however, raking her eyes down his body and his lady's, though mainly concentrating on Harry since he reacted by flinching a little under her appraising gaze. This didn't last long however since she had to bring a hand up to cover her eyes from the sunlight streaming into the garden.
Ororo took her looking in stride, seemingly amused by her reaction and teasing of Harry. She chuckled lightly, smiling at the two wincing young ladies who looked a little irritable at the sunlight streaming into the arboretum. "Hello girls," she chirped, smirking internally when the two sent her looks of pure hatred at her cheerful tone. "How are you two doing this lovely morning?"
"Let me get this straight," Emma said, scowling and holding her head, all ideas of asking about their nudity or teasing Harry forgotten. "Not only are you a morning person, but you are also immune to hangovers?"
"Why yes, that certainly does seem to be the case. Why? Is there a problem?" Ororo's lips widened into a grin as there glares hardened noticeably.
"GRRRR," Jean growled playfully, then her eyebrows shot up in surprise when a bottle made of clay strangely moved from the table to hover in front of her.
She looked up at Harry quizzically and he smiled a little. "Hangover cure. A rather easy potion actually." He frowned for a second, he had yet to figure out if non-magicals could brew potions using magical ingredients, but it was something to check out in the future. Swiftly however his smile came back as he looked at the two girls.
Jean grabbed at the container quickly, opened it and sipped, making a face at the taste before handing it over to Emma in turn.
Emma took a sip then spotted Harry's computer screen, and she raised an eyebrow. "Buying stock Mr. Potter? For what?"
"Stark Enterprises actually," Harry smirked as he went back to work. "It's going for a song, I swear, a mere hundred thousand per percent, its astonishing, a mega corporation like that, really bad." It had cut into his ready cash quite a bit, but he was confident he would be able to make it up later.
"That would be because Tony Stark has said his company won't make or sell any more weapons." Emma said dryly. "The man is a bit of a moron if he expected otherwise, Stark Industries doesn't do anything else."
"Perhaps not right now," Harry rejoined, "But from all reports Tony Stark is a robotics genius, I have no doubt he'll be able to turn it around if he is even half as intelligent as he's supposed to be. Heck I can think of dozens of technological devices I'd like to try and design if I had the means to manufacture them. Computer tech for example could be expanded and upgraded exponentially in the private sector. And now that I control thirty-eight percent of the stock, I will be making a killing when Stark finishes the switch to consumer goods."
Emma blinked at that, feeling a strange jolt at the words go through her. Maybe it was her upbringing talking but if there was one thing that Emma knew was a turn on for her it was power, mental and physical as well as intelligence. And Harry's reasoned argument and actions showed he had those three in spades. "Hmm I hadn't thought about that, and I doubt many people have, I wonder if I can buy some?"
"Not on the open market," Harry replied quickly, "I grabbed up as much as I could, but most of the rest was already off the market. It took some digging, but I've found twenty percent was sold from various people to a man named Obadiah Stane. The rest I picked up entirely."
Emma blinked again and moved behind the loveseat, leaning over to get a better view, one hand rising to scratch Hedwig's plumage as she read the screen. Harry gulped a little feeling her firm breasts press into his unoccupied shoulder, her blond hair rustling against the skin of his neck and shoulder.
Jean sat down in a chair at the table, using her power to reheat the pot of tea there while nibbling on a bit of cookie and trying to follow the conversation.
"Obadiah Stane is the vice president of Stark Industries, what in the world would he need more stock for, and to open himself up for a charge of insider trading? Stark and other major companies like that are watched closely for that kind of thing. In fact this should have been caught already."
"You think we should blow the whistle on it or something then?" Harry asked, turning to look at her and inadvertently inhaling the scent of her shampoo, a subtle scent of lilac and vanilla.
Emma shook her head. "No, Stane is known as one of Stark's most trusted confidantes, if he's doing this there must be something in the works, so we'd be better off just letting it go. Besides, since this wasn't caught already, there's no telling if blowing the whistle would work." Harry had dug up a bit, but there was no way he, a private citizen, could find this when the government's watchdogs couldn't. This meant the government was either in on it, which was not out of the question given Stark was almost the sole supplier for high-tech weapons to America's armed forces, or Stark or Stane had bought the agents assigned to watch for this kind of thing happening around Stark industries.
Harry nodded as Emma moved around the loveseat again. "I was thinking of actually giving you some of these stocks." That stopped Emma in her tracks and she turned from reaching for a cookie on the table to look at him, one eyebrow raised in the Frost equivalent of gaping in astonishment. "Honestly I'm just doing this because they were so bloody cheap due to the panicked response to his announcement, but I won't be able to keep an eye on the market, I'll be far too busy. And if I do transfer some these stocks to you it'll give you something to show for this trip."
Emma smiled faintly, pleased at this show of friendship and trust. Nor would her father of sister attempt to take control of it from her. Her father wouldn't because he wouldn't care about it that much, and the man he had assigned to watch her stocks didn't like her sister at all, thus blocking Adrienne. She motioned him to hand over the laptop and after a moment she had opened up another window that held her stock portfolio.
With that done she handed it back, and Harry transferred the stocks from three made up names to hers, leaving Harry with 24 percent of the company's stock distributed unevenly under two names, Anastasia Ambrosius and George Fredrick Weatherby. Both names had been thought up by Hedwig, and Harry felt that the twins would have gotten a kick out of his use of that particular name. "And done."
"Thank you Harry, both for this and for your magical aid. Emma smile widened slightly, and she leaned over, giving Harry a glimpse down her shirt as her tone turned sultry. "How can I ever repay you?"
She made to lean down into his personal space but was suddenly yanked backward by a telekinetic grip on the back of her shirt. "Can you not act like a slut for a few minutes, or is that too much to ask?" Jean groused, as she pulled Emma to sit in the free chair at the table.
Emma laughed. "Hah, I just know what I like and am willing to go after it, you can't tell me the thought hasn't occurred to you?"
Harry reddened at that as did Jean, but Ororo merely chuckled throatily, then reached up to drag him down into a slow, languid kiss. After a moment she released him and smiled at the other two saying simply, "Mine."
"Yes but last night you said, and I quote, 'As for signing up, your turn will come'." Emma grinned wickedly. "I've been hoping you weren't just talking about dancing."
Jean flushed further, both at her words and the hope it had blossomed in her, giving her crush more fuel, and at the memory of dancing with Harry last night.
Ororo laughed again. "Perhaps in the future, not just yet."
She had realized this morning that she had fallen in love with Harry, the kind of love where she could easily see the two of them living the rest of their lives together, and wanted to see it happen. But that didn't mean she was blind to the attraction and growing emotional attachment between the two younger women and Harry, or Jean and Ororo herself. The redhead had become by far her best friend, and she had caught herself looking at the redhead with more than friendly interest and approval a few times. But she wasn't going to let anyone join Harry and her for a short term fling or something like that. She needed to know that what the girls and Harry and her felt for one another was genuine, not just a passing fancy.
Jean looked away, knowing that Ororo was merely teasing, she wasn't really serious about that, was she?
Harry gulped, his blush disappearing as all his blood rushed south and he very carefully used his computer to cover his reaction to Ororo's kiss and to her follow up pronouncement. "Umm, anyway, how late are you staying here Emma?"
Emma chuckled at Harry's apparent distress, amused that his self-control had finally developed a crack. "Oh I imagine that I can leave sometime after lunch and get back home without arousing too much interest."
Harry nodded and decided to get the hell out of dodge, feeling very much outnumbered at present despite the fact Red hadn't joined in the teasing much. He shut down his laptop and with a wave of his hand his clothes suddenly appeared over his boxers and naked chest. "Well ladies, I will bid you ado, I have a meeting with Scott and Rogue for some experiments. Till later luv, Red, White," and with that he walked off, smirking at Emma's irritated face at her new nickname, followed by his lady's chuckles as he walked out of the door.
The ladies spent the rest of the morning talking. Not about boys fashion or gossip as was normal, but about world politics, the state of America as it was today, and other things, having covered less serious topics during their sleepover last night.
The trio hung out together in this fashion until Emma left, only stopping to allow Ororo to go and change then join the girls in the sitting room. The boys made brief appearances, but the three women were at that point talking about global trends in marketing, with Emma controlling the floor for a moment, and they all beat a hasty retreat. Scott paused for just a moment to look Emma over then switched to staring at Jean, but the redhead never noticed and he left swiftly.
Charles made an appearance to try and talk Emma into at least staying in contact if she couldn't join the school, and Emma hesitated before declining just as firmly as she had the day before. Charles sighed and left the girls to their own devices.
Alas it was soon time for Emma to leave and Jean walked her to her car in the garage while Ororo left to make lunch for everyone. Emma stopped, leaning against her car and looking at Jean for a moment. "This has been a lot of fun Jean, and in the interest of friendship I need to tell you something."
Jean nodded. "It's been a lot of fun on my end too. I'll e-mail you to tell you what happens with Duncan tomorrow. And if you ever do decide to just run, well, I'll save a space for you next to me somewhere." Emma hadn't shared much, just enough to tell Jean that she had an unhappy home life, but that was enough to make the redhead want to help her new friend. Jean also had very good instincts, and somehow knew that Emma was involved in something dangerous, maybe not X-men style dangerous, but something.
Emma smiled at the sentiment, but her voice was serious when she replied. "I'll remember you said that if I do decide to just run off. But right now, I wanted to tell you about something I've been feeling since I got here." She paused thinking of how to put it then went on. "Since I arrived here, my mental defenses have felt a constant, low key pressure."
Jean frowned. "My own defenses haven't reported anything like that, though maybe they wouldn't, I don't know. Can you tell me anything more?"
"I don't know what its purpose was, all I know is that it was coming from the old bald man, the professor. It strengthened quite a bit in his presence."
Jean's eyes widened in shock. "But, but that makes no sense, his telepathy is even more tightly controlled than yours!"
Emma shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't know that he's doing it. All I know is that for a minute, even knowing that it would be dangerous for me and for all of you I wanted to say yes when he wanted me to keep in contact with you all."
"Some kind of, of low key 'trust me' field?" Jean frowned. "That would explain some things, but i can't picture him doing it on purpose."
"I don't know, all I can tell you is what I felt." Emma shrugged, then turned and unlocked her white Ferrari 458.
She paused, and turned back, but before she could speak Jean pulled her into a hug. "Be safe Emma, I don't want to read about you in the obituary, okay?"
Emma stiffened for just a second, then her own arms went around her friend and the two stood there for a moment, their bodies pressed against one another. Both had the sudden urge to turn and kiss the other, but both decided to pull back from that, and Emma reluctantly stepped out of the hug and got into her car. "I'll try Jean, that's the best I can tell you. I'll also try to respond to your e-mails when I can, but don't expect much real information."
Jean nodded and without another word Emma started up her car, leaving behind a very thoughtful redhead, who had yet another reason to distrust the man who she had looked at as both a role model and a leader as little as three months ago.