Emma Frost. Even the way she flicked her hair seemed like pure magic. The woman was the most gorgeous thing Jean had ever seen, and Jean didn't even think of herself a bisexual, much less a lesbian.
Truth was, she hated Emma. Hated her for her good looks, her supreme arrogance and bitchy remarks. And most of all for trying to steal Scott away from her. Emma and Scott sinned in thoughts, Jean knew it.
Still, Emma was precious. A fucking diamond.
Jean's lips curled slightly upwards. A diamond. How did her brilliant mind come up with that awful pun? And speaking of brilliant, Emma's diamond ass was right in front of her. Fully clothed of course, but still. Tight. More than firm. Diamond-hard as a matter of fact. Damn it, Jean, stop it. Concentrate.
In front of her sat 30 eager students, all looking attentively at Miss Frost, listening to the diamond woman talking to them about secondary mutation. Jean and Emma were teaching an extra class for students who thought they were experiencing secondary mutation. Just the other week a student had gone from being see-through to being completely invisible, which naturally spawned a bunch of rumours, not to mention an identity-crisis with the poor student in question.
Emma was talking about how shocked she had been when she discovered that her skin had gone hard. The violent events in Genosha had triggered the mutation. Emma had been found in a pile of rubble after the dust had settled, all shiny and hard.
"And personally, I'm very happy about being a living diamond, and not some ordinary rock…" Emma, was looking as arrogant as ever..
And what about Jean? Well, with Jean the secondary mutation involved some serious telepathy and telekinesis skills. Xavier kept on talking about "the manifestation of the Phoenix," but Jean didn't care what it was. She could feel every individual heartbeat in this room, simply by standing on the same floor as the rest of them. That is, everyone but Emma's. One can not get inside of the Diamond Lady.
And even if she could get inside the mind of the cold and distant miss Frost, would she want to?
Yes, she would. Jean had spent more nights than she was willing to admit, thinking about what was hiding inside that diamond-fortified castle. What were Emma's deepest, darkest thoughts? Her hidden desires? Did Emma think about Scott often? Did they share many thoughts together? What did they do? And did Emma ever think about Jean Grey?
Jean, get a hold of yourself.
But what would it be like to touch that cold, diamond-skin, only to feel it go warm and soft again, right under your fingertips? Raking your nails across the soft skin on the back of her thighs, only to suddenly be scratching at a hard surface? To kiss diamond lips and to…
"Jean? JEAN!"
"I'm sorry, what?"
Emma was standing in front of her, arms crossed and skin going from diamond hard to luscious and soft.
"As much fun as there must be inside that pretty head of yours, I'm sure the class would appreciate something more than just your physical presence. Honey, you're up. Talk about the golden bird." Emma's lips were slightly curled.
Jean got up from her chair and faced the class. Did Emma just call her "Honey?" Oh well, get on with it.
"As most of you know, my secondary mutation involved what is known as 'the manifestation of the Phoenix.' Does anyone know what that means?"
Jean thought she could feel Emma's eyes upon her, but didn't dare to hope it.
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Emma Frost was sick and tired of teaching. She loved it, but by the end of the day, all she could think about was blunt violence to some students' heads.
She sat down in her room, carefully undoing the zipper on her white boots. She wondered where Scott was, he hadn't been to the school for weeks, off on some stupid quest with Logan. Emma had to stop herself from laughing out loud. The mere thought of Scott and Logan trying to get on with each other was simply funny. They had never liked each other. And that whole menage-a-trois involving the two of them and Jean a few years back. Nasty.
Jean. Jean Grey. The Phoenix. The red-haired vixen. Well, "vixen" was probably pushing it, but she was decidedly foxy. After all. She could understand Logan. And Scott, to some extent. But marry her?
Why marry, when you can play?
Emma had gotten her boots off and were curling her toes into the thick carpet underneath her feet. So soft. She stopped by her desk to pick up a book about modern mutant culture. She felt it was important to keep on top of things, even though she wouldn't feel up to talking to another student until next morning.
"Mutants have, these past few years, come into the public eye in more ways than one. Mutant music, mutant poetry, mutant literature have all…"
And Jean had been eyeing her up and down today, she knew it. But why? Jean hated her, and Emma Frost certainly didn't think to well of Jean. Why am I even thinking about this? Concentrate!
"mutant literature…"
There's just something about that hair of hers. Flaming red, as if it's on fire, and with that phoenix-thing going on, you can actually see the flames. Emma was loath to admit it, but Jean Grey was hot, in more ways than one. Positively scorching.
Emma let herself drift for a moment. Indulging herself was something she did quite frequently.
There had been that time when Emma had first seen Jean as the Phoenix. Jean had been hovering in the air, high and on fire. Hair dripping with flames. With a mere thought, Jean had twisted pieces of metal into roses, been absolutely ruthless with her enemies. No fucking mercy. Tiny flames licked her skin, scorching and fraying her clothes. Emma had stood there, diamond hard, mouth wide open. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life.
She still had a room in her mind reserved for that time when Jean would let herself be invited to share a thought or two.
Just thinking about it made Emma close her eyes and moan softly. What would it be like to have those flames raging across her diamond skin? To have a burning Jean in her arms?
Stop it, Emma. It is never going to happen. Never. Jean is an uptight prude who hates you.
Still, what would it be like?
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Jean was standing in the kitchen. It was two in the morning and she couldn't sleep. Her hand was resting on the handle of the refrigerator, still not sure whether to reach into it and get something to drink.
"Are you going to open that door? Or are you going to stand there all night? I'm in desperate need for some tonic."
Emma Frost was standing in front of her waving a bottle of Bombay Gin.
"Um. Sorry, I was just thinking."
Jean let go off the handle and watched Emma as she found a bottle of tonic. Emma had no morals. And no shame. She was wearing a white thong and a very see-through dressing gown. If a student would happen to come downstairs and see this… well, Xavier would be none to pleased.
"Admiring my ass again, Jean?"
Emma turned around to face her. Expecting Jean to blush, or to stutter or something.
Jean didn't say a word. Emma was perfectly right, and there was no use in arguing, Emma would just twist her words around the way she always did, no matter what she replied. No, Jean simply sat down by the table.
"Would you mind sharing some of that gin?" to Jean it was like admitting some form of defeat, asking for something from Emma Frost, even if it was something as trifle as a drink. But hey, as long as she got to stare at the nipples clearly visible through the piece of cloth covering Emma for a while, why not? What Emma does not know, will not hurt her. Or make her laugh. Jean Grey lusting after Emma Frost. Now that was quite something.
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Emma was a bit shocked. Jean wanting a drink? And from her? Wow, Jean must be feeling a bit on the weird side tonight.
She picked up two glasses and put them down on the table along with a bucket of ice, the Bombay Gin and the tonic.
"So," she said, looking Jean straight in the eyes. "We are to be 'drinking buddies' this night?"
"I can't sleep, ok? Just pour the drink."
Emma poured Jean her drink and handed it to her, making sure she touched Jean's hand as she did so. They had never really touched before, and Emma wanted to know if Jean's skin was warmer than hers, if she had some of those phoenix-flames constantly keeping her boiling. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Jean took the GT from Emma's hand, their fingers touched for a while. Something in Emma's eyes told Jean it was on purpose, but Jean didn't dare think it.
Emma's skin felt pleasantly cold in contrast to her own. Well, Jean thought, it was The Diamond Lady after all, and with a name like Frost… Still, how did Emma always remain so cool?
Jean took a large sip of her drink. And then another. It was cold. Too cold. Jean put her hand to her forehead grimacing.
"Are you ok?" Emma said distantly.
"Ice-cream headache. You put too much ice in my drink."
"There can never be too much ice in a drink, sweetheart. Two thirds of the glass is a minimum." Emma's voice was confident, superior.
I shouldn't let the tone of her voice, her manner, get to me. If I had only been able to get inside her mind, I would find nothing more than a snotty brat. You know this. She is not some Ice Queen, or White Queen anymore for that matter, she is only human. Albeit one very sexy human. Confidence was sexy. And Emma had that, a lot more so than Scott.
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Headache from a drink? Emma was smiling. Her own drink had gone down in a matter of seconds and she had just finished making herself another when Jean slammed her empty glass down in front of her.
"Another, if you please."
"Why, certainly. I have never had the pleasure of seeing the great Jean Grey get drunk before, and I would very much like to." Emma poured the drink, slightly stronger this time, and handed it to Jean. "But tell me, to what do I owe this occasion?"
Jean Grey sipped at her drink, flicked her thick hair back and looked at Emma.
"My mind is full of silly thoughts and I can't get rid of them."
What was this? Jean thinking silly thoughts? What on earth was happening here? Must find out.
"Silly thoughts?" Emma etched closer to Jean, leaning towards her. "Nothing improper, I hope?" ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Improper? If Emma only knew.
Jean let out a small laugh, and drained her drink, waving her empty glass at the amused creature in front of her.
"I'm onto something then?" Emma said, taking a swig out of the Bombay bottle and handing it to Jean. Emma was clearly enjoying this, Jean could sense it with all her being, Emma liked to see people squirm.
Well, Emma wasn't going to see Jean squirm like a worm on a hook. I still have some pride, she thought, feeling the gin warm her on the inside. Wonder if the gin warms Emma?
"Well, I guess I could open up my mind to you and let you see how bad it really is, but I won't. I am going to use simple words."
Jean took a few more swigs of the bottle and gave it back to Emma before continuing:
"Drink. You'll need it."
Ok, Jean thought, watching Emma take a sip and softly lick her lips.
"Now you've really got me curious, Jean. What? Thinking about letting Logan take you hard up against a tree? Or playing naughty hide-and-seek with …."
Jean interrupted her.
"I am thinking improper thoughts indeed. And I'm going to tell you about it, right now, if only to get it off my chest so I can get some fucking sleep, and I assure you, you won't be grinning like that when I'm done."
"Try me," Emma said and smiled provocatively.
Right, gauntlets thrown, here goes:
"Emma Grace Frost, all day I have done nothing but think about what I would like to do with you, alone, without any clothes on. What it would be like to touch your liquid diamond skin and to feel it go all soft again, to try to make you burn all over. And I can't make it any more plain than that, and it's out in the open now, and I'm going to bed. Good night." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emma was stunned. As Jean hurried past her and out of the kitchen, all she wanted to do was to stop her, grab her by the arm and say that it was ok, and that she wanted her as well, that there was nothing improper about it as long as they both wanted it. But she didn't move. She couldn't. and her body turned into a shining diamond.
Why did Jean say this? How did she know? Had she read Emma's mind somehow? How could Jean possibly know that these words were exactly what Emma secretly wanted to hear?
But she couldn't have read Emma's mind. No one could, not even the Phoenix. And they most certainly could not do it unnoticed.
Emma picked up a cube from the ice bucket and put it in her mouth. Relaxing and thinking about what Jean had said.
So Jean, you want to defrost Frost? I am going to give you frostbites.
She picked up the ice bucket, and as her hard skin turned soft again, headed for Jean Grey's bedroom. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jean threw herself onto the bed. Her head was singing from the gin, and her cheeks were blushing. Had she really said all of that to Emma? She would never be able to look her in the eyes again! Frost was probably laughing her ass off, itching to tell someone about what a fool Jean Grey was.
Still blushing and ashamed, she got up and walked over to the mirror. She took her sweater off, leaving her torso completely bare. Looking at herself in the mirror she liked what she saw, but she didn't think it would be good enough for Emma. She was good enough for Scott, and Logan, but would Emma ever want her? She didn't think so.
Her hands gently stroked her own breasts, and she willed a hairbrush to start brushing her hair. And just to keep her mind occupied with something other than the thought of a naked Emma, she started lifting all the books out of the bookshelf, whirling them around the room. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emma didn't bother to knock. She simply opened the door and stepped inside.
Jean was standing in the middle of the room, in front of a large mirror, touching herself. Books, hairbrushes and hundreds of other things were flying around the room, and Jean was on fire.
Small flames were all over her skin, in her hair, lighting up the room.
The woman is gorgeous. Don't drop the bucket. Do not drop the bucket.
Emma clutched the bucket of ice tightly. She was biting her lip, not able to take her eyes of f of Jean. The flames lit up the entire room, making shadows come and go across Emma's face.
She should have noticed me by now. She's doing the Phoenix thing again, she has to know I'm here. She can probably sense every molecule in the air between us. Jean.
Emma held on to the bucket of ice as hard as she could. Her hands felt clammy. Sticky.
Jean turned around and looked at her. The books and other objects flying around came to a halt before they peacefully settled down where they belonged.
Oh my god. Emma could hardly watch as Jean descended in front of her. Still sizzling, she stopped just a few inches away from Emma. Emma had to fight her sudden impulse to touch her.
Wow. She smells of fire, heat and ashes.
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I can not believe she came up here to see me. I can not believe it. And I'm only wearing trousers. Scorched ones at that.
Jean blushed slightly and then gave an involuntary giggle. Emma Frost had a bead of sweat on her brow.
Jean took Emma's face in her hands, leant forward and licked the bead of perspiration off her skin. Emma gripped one of Jean's wrists, looking into her eyes.
Come on, Emma! Kiss me!
And Emma did just that. Lips to lips, their tongues meeting. Jean felt the cool inside of Emma's mouth and smiled. Emma had been sucking on an ice cube, just moments before. It was just like a dream.
Truth was, she hated Emma. Hated her for her good looks, her supreme arrogance and bitchy remarks. And most of all for trying to steal Scott away from her. Emma and Scott sinned in thoughts, Jean knew it.
Still, Emma was precious. A fucking diamond.
Jean's lips curled slightly upwards. A diamond. How did her brilliant mind come up with that awful pun? And speaking of brilliant, Emma's diamond ass was right in front of her. Fully clothed of course, but still. Tight. More than firm. Diamond-hard as a matter of fact. Damn it, Jean, stop it. Concentrate.
In front of her sat 30 eager students, all looking attentively at Miss Frost, listening to the diamond woman talking to them about secondary mutation. Jean and Emma were teaching an extra class for students who thought they were experiencing secondary mutation. Just the other week a student had gone from being see-through to being completely invisible, which naturally spawned a bunch of rumours, not to mention an identity-crisis with the poor student in question.
Emma was talking about how shocked she had been when she discovered that her skin had gone hard. The violent events in Genosha had triggered the mutation. Emma had been found in a pile of rubble after the dust had settled, all shiny and hard.
"And personally, I'm very happy about being a living diamond, and not some ordinary rock…" Emma, was looking as arrogant as ever..
And what about Jean? Well, with Jean the secondary mutation involved some serious telepathy and telekinesis skills. Xavier kept on talking about "the manifestation of the Phoenix," but Jean didn't care what it was. She could feel every individual heartbeat in this room, simply by standing on the same floor as the rest of them. That is, everyone but Emma's. One can not get inside of the Diamond Lady.
And even if she could get inside the mind of the cold and distant miss Frost, would she want to?
Yes, she would. Jean had spent more nights than she was willing to admit, thinking about what was hiding inside that diamond-fortified castle. What were Emma's deepest, darkest thoughts? Her hidden desires? Did Emma think about Scott often? Did they share many thoughts together? What did they do? And did Emma ever think about Jean Grey?
Jean, get a hold of yourself.
But what would it be like to touch that cold, diamond-skin, only to feel it go warm and soft again, right under your fingertips? Raking your nails across the soft skin on the back of her thighs, only to suddenly be scratching at a hard surface? To kiss diamond lips and to…
"Jean? JEAN!"
"I'm sorry, what?"
Emma was standing in front of her, arms crossed and skin going from diamond hard to luscious and soft.
"As much fun as there must be inside that pretty head of yours, I'm sure the class would appreciate something more than just your physical presence. Honey, you're up. Talk about the golden bird." Emma's lips were slightly curled.
Jean got up from her chair and faced the class. Did Emma just call her "Honey?" Oh well, get on with it.
"As most of you know, my secondary mutation involved what is known as 'the manifestation of the Phoenix.' Does anyone know what that means?"
Jean thought she could feel Emma's eyes upon her, but didn't dare to hope it.
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Emma Frost was sick and tired of teaching. She loved it, but by the end of the day, all she could think about was blunt violence to some students' heads.
She sat down in her room, carefully undoing the zipper on her white boots. She wondered where Scott was, he hadn't been to the school for weeks, off on some stupid quest with Logan. Emma had to stop herself from laughing out loud. The mere thought of Scott and Logan trying to get on with each other was simply funny. They had never liked each other. And that whole menage-a-trois involving the two of them and Jean a few years back. Nasty.
Jean. Jean Grey. The Phoenix. The red-haired vixen. Well, "vixen" was probably pushing it, but she was decidedly foxy. After all. She could understand Logan. And Scott, to some extent. But marry her?
Why marry, when you can play?
Emma had gotten her boots off and were curling her toes into the thick carpet underneath her feet. So soft. She stopped by her desk to pick up a book about modern mutant culture. She felt it was important to keep on top of things, even though she wouldn't feel up to talking to another student until next morning.
"Mutants have, these past few years, come into the public eye in more ways than one. Mutant music, mutant poetry, mutant literature have all…"
And Jean had been eyeing her up and down today, she knew it. But why? Jean hated her, and Emma Frost certainly didn't think to well of Jean. Why am I even thinking about this? Concentrate!
"mutant literature…"
There's just something about that hair of hers. Flaming red, as if it's on fire, and with that phoenix-thing going on, you can actually see the flames. Emma was loath to admit it, but Jean Grey was hot, in more ways than one. Positively scorching.
Emma let herself drift for a moment. Indulging herself was something she did quite frequently.
There had been that time when Emma had first seen Jean as the Phoenix. Jean had been hovering in the air, high and on fire. Hair dripping with flames. With a mere thought, Jean had twisted pieces of metal into roses, been absolutely ruthless with her enemies. No fucking mercy. Tiny flames licked her skin, scorching and fraying her clothes. Emma had stood there, diamond hard, mouth wide open. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life.
She still had a room in her mind reserved for that time when Jean would let herself be invited to share a thought or two.
Just thinking about it made Emma close her eyes and moan softly. What would it be like to have those flames raging across her diamond skin? To have a burning Jean in her arms?
Stop it, Emma. It is never going to happen. Never. Jean is an uptight prude who hates you.
Still, what would it be like?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jean was standing in the kitchen. It was two in the morning and she couldn't sleep. Her hand was resting on the handle of the refrigerator, still not sure whether to reach into it and get something to drink.
"Are you going to open that door? Or are you going to stand there all night? I'm in desperate need for some tonic."
Emma Frost was standing in front of her waving a bottle of Bombay Gin.
"Um. Sorry, I was just thinking."
Jean let go off the handle and watched Emma as she found a bottle of tonic. Emma had no morals. And no shame. She was wearing a white thong and a very see-through dressing gown. If a student would happen to come downstairs and see this… well, Xavier would be none to pleased.
"Admiring my ass again, Jean?"
Emma turned around to face her. Expecting Jean to blush, or to stutter or something.
Jean didn't say a word. Emma was perfectly right, and there was no use in arguing, Emma would just twist her words around the way she always did, no matter what she replied. No, Jean simply sat down by the table.
"Would you mind sharing some of that gin?" to Jean it was like admitting some form of defeat, asking for something from Emma Frost, even if it was something as trifle as a drink. But hey, as long as she got to stare at the nipples clearly visible through the piece of cloth covering Emma for a while, why not? What Emma does not know, will not hurt her. Or make her laugh. Jean Grey lusting after Emma Frost. Now that was quite something.
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Emma was a bit shocked. Jean wanting a drink? And from her? Wow, Jean must be feeling a bit on the weird side tonight.
She picked up two glasses and put them down on the table along with a bucket of ice, the Bombay Gin and the tonic.
"So," she said, looking Jean straight in the eyes. "We are to be 'drinking buddies' this night?"
"I can't sleep, ok? Just pour the drink."
Emma poured Jean her drink and handed it to her, making sure she touched Jean's hand as she did so. They had never really touched before, and Emma wanted to know if Jean's skin was warmer than hers, if she had some of those phoenix-flames constantly keeping her boiling. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Jean took the GT from Emma's hand, their fingers touched for a while. Something in Emma's eyes told Jean it was on purpose, but Jean didn't dare think it.
Emma's skin felt pleasantly cold in contrast to her own. Well, Jean thought, it was The Diamond Lady after all, and with a name like Frost… Still, how did Emma always remain so cool?
Jean took a large sip of her drink. And then another. It was cold. Too cold. Jean put her hand to her forehead grimacing.
"Are you ok?" Emma said distantly.
"Ice-cream headache. You put too much ice in my drink."
"There can never be too much ice in a drink, sweetheart. Two thirds of the glass is a minimum." Emma's voice was confident, superior.
I shouldn't let the tone of her voice, her manner, get to me. If I had only been able to get inside her mind, I would find nothing more than a snotty brat. You know this. She is not some Ice Queen, or White Queen anymore for that matter, she is only human. Albeit one very sexy human. Confidence was sexy. And Emma had that, a lot more so than Scott.
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Headache from a drink? Emma was smiling. Her own drink had gone down in a matter of seconds and she had just finished making herself another when Jean slammed her empty glass down in front of her.
"Another, if you please."
"Why, certainly. I have never had the pleasure of seeing the great Jean Grey get drunk before, and I would very much like to." Emma poured the drink, slightly stronger this time, and handed it to Jean. "But tell me, to what do I owe this occasion?"
Jean Grey sipped at her drink, flicked her thick hair back and looked at Emma.
"My mind is full of silly thoughts and I can't get rid of them."
What was this? Jean thinking silly thoughts? What on earth was happening here? Must find out.
"Silly thoughts?" Emma etched closer to Jean, leaning towards her. "Nothing improper, I hope?" ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Improper? If Emma only knew.
Jean let out a small laugh, and drained her drink, waving her empty glass at the amused creature in front of her.
"I'm onto something then?" Emma said, taking a swig out of the Bombay bottle and handing it to Jean. Emma was clearly enjoying this, Jean could sense it with all her being, Emma liked to see people squirm.
Well, Emma wasn't going to see Jean squirm like a worm on a hook. I still have some pride, she thought, feeling the gin warm her on the inside. Wonder if the gin warms Emma?
"Well, I guess I could open up my mind to you and let you see how bad it really is, but I won't. I am going to use simple words."
Jean took a few more swigs of the bottle and gave it back to Emma before continuing:
"Drink. You'll need it."
Ok, Jean thought, watching Emma take a sip and softly lick her lips.
"Now you've really got me curious, Jean. What? Thinking about letting Logan take you hard up against a tree? Or playing naughty hide-and-seek with …."
Jean interrupted her.
"I am thinking improper thoughts indeed. And I'm going to tell you about it, right now, if only to get it off my chest so I can get some fucking sleep, and I assure you, you won't be grinning like that when I'm done."
"Try me," Emma said and smiled provocatively.
Right, gauntlets thrown, here goes:
"Emma Grace Frost, all day I have done nothing but think about what I would like to do with you, alone, without any clothes on. What it would be like to touch your liquid diamond skin and to feel it go all soft again, to try to make you burn all over. And I can't make it any more plain than that, and it's out in the open now, and I'm going to bed. Good night." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emma was stunned. As Jean hurried past her and out of the kitchen, all she wanted to do was to stop her, grab her by the arm and say that it was ok, and that she wanted her as well, that there was nothing improper about it as long as they both wanted it. But she didn't move. She couldn't. and her body turned into a shining diamond.
Why did Jean say this? How did she know? Had she read Emma's mind somehow? How could Jean possibly know that these words were exactly what Emma secretly wanted to hear?
But she couldn't have read Emma's mind. No one could, not even the Phoenix. And they most certainly could not do it unnoticed.
Emma picked up a cube from the ice bucket and put it in her mouth. Relaxing and thinking about what Jean had said.
So Jean, you want to defrost Frost? I am going to give you frostbites.
She picked up the ice bucket, and as her hard skin turned soft again, headed for Jean Grey's bedroom. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jean threw herself onto the bed. Her head was singing from the gin, and her cheeks were blushing. Had she really said all of that to Emma? She would never be able to look her in the eyes again! Frost was probably laughing her ass off, itching to tell someone about what a fool Jean Grey was.
Still blushing and ashamed, she got up and walked over to the mirror. She took her sweater off, leaving her torso completely bare. Looking at herself in the mirror she liked what she saw, but she didn't think it would be good enough for Emma. She was good enough for Scott, and Logan, but would Emma ever want her? She didn't think so.
Her hands gently stroked her own breasts, and she willed a hairbrush to start brushing her hair. And just to keep her mind occupied with something other than the thought of a naked Emma, she started lifting all the books out of the bookshelf, whirling them around the room. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emma didn't bother to knock. She simply opened the door and stepped inside.
Jean was standing in the middle of the room, in front of a large mirror, touching herself. Books, hairbrushes and hundreds of other things were flying around the room, and Jean was on fire.
Small flames were all over her skin, in her hair, lighting up the room.
The woman is gorgeous. Don't drop the bucket. Do not drop the bucket.
Emma clutched the bucket of ice tightly. She was biting her lip, not able to take her eyes of f of Jean. The flames lit up the entire room, making shadows come and go across Emma's face.
She should have noticed me by now. She's doing the Phoenix thing again, she has to know I'm here. She can probably sense every molecule in the air between us. Jean.
Emma held on to the bucket of ice as hard as she could. Her hands felt clammy. Sticky.
Jean turned around and looked at her. The books and other objects flying around came to a halt before they peacefully settled down where they belonged.
Oh my god. Emma could hardly watch as Jean descended in front of her. Still sizzling, she stopped just a few inches away from Emma. Emma had to fight her sudden impulse to touch her.
Wow. She smells of fire, heat and ashes.
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I can not believe she came up here to see me. I can not believe it. And I'm only wearing trousers. Scorched ones at that.
Jean blushed slightly and then gave an involuntary giggle. Emma Frost had a bead of sweat on her brow.
Jean took Emma's face in her hands, leant forward and licked the bead of perspiration off her skin. Emma gripped one of Jean's wrists, looking into her eyes.
Come on, Emma! Kiss me!
And Emma did just that. Lips to lips, their tongues meeting. Jean felt the cool inside of Emma's mouth and smiled. Emma had been sucking on an ice cube, just moments before. It was just like a dream.