A/N: This story will replace "Diamonds of Ice". I wrote that story some time ago, and I recently decided that I do not like it. Please read and review.

*Updated version*

Disclaimer: All characters/names belong to Stan Lee and Marvel Comics.

Melting the Ice

Chapter 1: Two's Company

Emma Frost was bored.

She was reclining in a plush leather chair in the academy's common room. She sat facing an enormous window. Millions of white dots floated to the ground and added a new layer to the ankle-high duvet of snow that had been accumulating all week. It was Friday night and she was alone. The mansion was abnormally quiet and, while Emma normally welcomed the silence, tonight it only served to emphasize the pathetic nature of her situation. The weekend was only just beginning and she did not have any plans.

She used the window as a makeshift mirror to examine her appearance. An oval face with a thin nose and full, pink lips was elegantly framed by long, immaculately straight, platinum-blonde hair. Her complexion was an attractive cream color and her skin was flawless. Cerulean eyes highlighted by long, feminine lashes and thin eyebrows stared back at her. She knew that she was an attractive woman. She had exploited that knowledge on a number of occasions, but apparently beauty had not been enough to generate any interesting endeavors for the evening. She sighed and returned her attention to her book. She was grateful that no one would get to see her like this.

"Emma?" Her head snapped up and her eyes sought out the owner of the voice. Her gaze settled on the Iceman, Bobby Drake.

"Robert," she said coldly. "I'm surprised to see you home so soon. Did Chuck-e-Cheese close early?"

"Nah, but they told me that I was too big for the tunnel maze," he said. "Naturally, I was just completely devastated. What's your excuse?"

She shrugged and gestured with her chin towards the book in her hands. "Just catching up on some light reading."

Bobby's eyes scanned the title of the book. "Advanced Economics: Strategies for Stock Market Success. Sure sounds 'light'. But seriously, what's up? The Emma Frost alone on a Friday night? Shouldn't you be out chatting up some male fitness model or something?"

"Contrary to popular belief, Robert, I actually require my dates to demonstrate some level of intelligence. And besides, I could do much better for myself than some gym junkie."

Emma was expecting another sarcastic remark, but Bobby fell silent. He placed his hands on his hips and began mulling over an idea while quietly observing her. His gaze was leveled on Emma, but he didn't utter a syllable for quite some time. When the silence grew to an uncomfortable level, Emma finally spoke up.

"Well, this has certainly been a scintillating conversation, Robert, but if you have nothing else to add, I'd appreciate some privacy."

Bobby still refused to speak. He began slowly chewing on his lower lip. It was the only indication that he was still cognitive. Emma grew more impatient.

"Look, Robert, if you came here to gloat or to poke fun at my situation then say your piece and be done with it. You can tell all of your little friends that really you got under my skin, but say something or please leave me the hell alone!"

The silence persisted. Emma lost her temper.

"Dammit, Bobby! Are you listen—"

"Do you want to hang out with me?" He blurted out finally.

"Excuse me?" She had not been expecting that.

Bobby rubbed at the back of his neck nervously and his cheeks turned a light shade of red. He looked everywhere but her face.

"Do you want to hang out with me?" He repeated slowly.

Emma looked at him incredulously. She raised a curious eyebrow and pursed her lips. She decided that he couldn't be serious.

"Is this some kind of joke, Robert? Did Paige put you up to this?"

Bobby forced himself to calm down. He wrenched his hand from behind his head, squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He looked straight into Emma's eyes.

"No joke," he began shakily. "Look, you don't have any plans tonight and I don't have any plans tonight." His confidence grew with each syllable. "So why don't we make plans with each other?"

Emma couldn't refute his logic and that bothered her. She pondered the offer. Maybe a distraction was just what she needed. Bobby slumped his shoulders, discouraged at the lack of an immediate answer. He twisted his neck to the side and shifted his gaze away from her.

"Right. Probably a stupid idea anyhow," he turned to leave. "Sorry for bothering you."

"Yes."

"What?" he paused mid-step.

"Yes, I will 'hang out' with you," she reiterated.

Bobby turned back around. His eyes lit up and a smile tugged at his lips. Emma was surprised and confused by the excitement that was evident in his expression. She chalked it up to the fact that he no longer had to spend the evening alone. She could not imagine that was he was particularly pleased with his chosen company.

"On one condition: that we do not leave the mansion. I could not be seen with you in public, I have a reputation to maintain." If the line had come from anyone else, Bobby might have been offended. Instead, his smile grew wider.

"And stop smiling like an idiot!"

Bobby suppressed the grin with some difficulty. "Ok, deal."

He gestured to his attire with his hands. "I've gotta go shower and change. Meet back here in, say, thirty minutes?"

For the first time that evening—maybe in her life—Emma more closely examined his appearance. He was tall, with a square jaw and a boyishly handsome face. His light brown hair was short and styled to form a faux hawk at the top of his head. He was dressed in exercise clothes: a dark blue, sleeveless t-shirt and silver athletic shorts with a pair of cross-training Nike tennis shoes adorning his feet. She noticed that he was in very good shape. He had broad shoulders and his arms bulged with solid, defined muscle. He may have acted like an imbecile, but at least he was a good-looking imbecile. She thought that she could have done worse for herself.

Bobby was looking at her expectantly and she realized that she still had not answered his question. She couldn't believe that Robert Drake had caught her gawking. She attempted to cover her faux pas with more sarcasm.

"Thirty minutes, Robert? I had no idea that you were such a girl when it came to getting ready."

"Actually, the thirty minutes was for you. You don't plan on wearing that do you?" His eyes passed up and down her body, indicating her skin-tight leather pants, tube top, and four-inch heels. All of which were pristinely white.

"And what exactly is wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"It just doesn't seem, ah, appropriate for what I had planned for tonight."

"You are not one to discuss fashion choices, Robert, trust me. But I suppose I could scrounge up some slightly more 'appropriate'clothing."

"Comfortable," Bobby corrected. "Some more comfortable clothing."

Emma rolled her eyes but nodded her head reluctantly.

"See you in thirty," Bobby said before dashing out of the common room and up the staircase towards his room.

"Make it forty-five," Emma called after him. She heard him shout "ok" an instant before he slammed his door shut. She stood and smoothed down invisible wrinkles in her clothing while shaking her head. She made her way out of the common room and followed Bobby's trail up the staircase. At least now she wouldn't be spending the night alone.

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