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Chapter 7

Warren leaned casually against the back wall of the faculty dining room and studied the woman Hank had said was basically his daughter. A daughter in her mid to late twenties, perhaps the same age as himself. Add that to the fact she had really only been alive for nine years, having been grown like some genetically engineered plant, and had come from the past, from Genosha no less, and his mind was in shock from the absolute absurdity of it all. As one of the founding members of the X-Men, Warren had seen a lot of strange and puzzling things in his career but this was more personal and far more confusing to him.

"She looks like she's about to pass out," the tall, blond man said softly as Emma came to stand beside him and study Angela intently.

Emma had volunteered to answer questions he might have after Hank had spoken to him in private. She'd been rather surprised she'd offered actually, since she'd made it well known in the past that she wasn't overly keen on emotional conversations. For some ungodly reason Emma was feeling rather responsible for the woman.

The two watched as Angela's body jerked awake after almost doing a face plant into her dinner.

And wasn't that just humorous when Hank had told him the name they'd come up with.

Angela.

With his team codename being Angel it wouldn't take too much to see her sprout wings and put two and two together. No way to hide it now. Hell, even without the wings he could see himself in her. That long, lithe body. His mother's nose. Lots of little things, added up with the wings that Hank had said were amputated and Warren knew the DNA analysis was correct.

"Emma, what am I supposed to do here? With her?" Warren turned away from watching his daughter towards Emma and ran a nervous hand through his blond locks. "For God's sake. I'm a millionaire Playboy with blond hair and blue eyes. I'm a walking, talking cliché of upper class America who just happens to also have a pair of white wings to round out the picture that is named Angel. The perfect Playboy mutant power isn't it? I don't have siblings. I don't have children. I rarely have a woman that lasts long enough to be called a girlfriend. Tell me what I'm supposed to do here?"

"If it bothers you that much, don't try to be her father. You're almost the same age so perhaps a sibling," Emma turned her head and give him a stern look, letting him know she wouldn't approve of him messing this up. "She's had an extremely unusual upbringing, Warren. Angela never had parents. She had siblings and Masters, that's it, so perhaps if you treated her as a sister? She would be far more comfortable with having a sibling."

Emma went silent and watched her charge, feeling only somewhat compassionate towards Warren and his discomfort as he watched this new person that had just been thrust into his life. She was rather pretty all cleaned up and dressed in something other than the hideous skinsuit or the hospital gown. Her tattoos were all gone now as well, Hank having re-programmed the special nanite gel that they used to heal wounds to remove them. The thin silvery scar over her right eye was another matter entirely and without the tattoos to distract the eye, it seemed more visible somehow. Not horrific, just noticeable.

"Speaking of women that last long enough to be called girlfriend, how are Betsy and you doing?" Emma asked quietly, making small talk.

Warren shrugged, his huge white wings ruffling softly. "Sometimes good, sometimes bad. I haven't had time to tell her about this."

"It's only been a couple of hours, Warren."

He sighed and crossed his lean, muscular arms over his chest defensively. "It's just not fair. I didn't ask for this!" he hissed.

"Oh, do quit acting like a petulant child, Warren. It doesn't suit you." Emma kept her sight on Angela, what little compassion he had for Warren disappearing in a flash. Despite her own unease around the woman, she felt for her far more than her biologocial parent apparently did. Emma had seen the life Angela had come from and it would take a far colder heart than her own to not understand.

"Hank said she has wings? I don't see any. Is he really sure she's my…"

Emma cut him off harshly. "She's yours. I know you believe it, Warren, so quit playing games." Her voice softened. "Her wings were amputated not too long after she was birthed… removed from the tank where she was grown. Part of her power seems to be that she's able to copy mutant abilities and transform them into a set of wings for herself. Tomorrow, after she gets some sleep, Hank is going to try a couple of experiments to see what kind of powers she copies. It should be enlightening. You're welcome to stay of course. We can even put you in the guest room in the same wing as hers, if you wish."

"That… that would be fine, Emma. Thank you." Warren cleared his throat and continued. "I'm sorry about what I said. It's just so confusing and such a surprise."

"I know, Warren. But if it's all so confusing to you, imagine what it's like for her."

The man they called Angel hung his head in shame for a moment. He knew he was being selfish and a bit of a jerk, but how did one go about introducing oneself to a virtual stranger?

Emma sighed and rolled her eyes, hearing Warren's thoughts. Really, the school had enough children in it that they didn't need a full grown adult like Warren acting like one of them.

"Take her a dessert, Warren. I'm sure she'll be appreciative since Hank has her diet being bland for the next few days. She already knows a little about you, so you don't need to go overboard. Perhaps if you plan on staying, you might offer to teach her how to fly."

Warren swallowed audibly then stood straighter. He reached out blindly and squeezed Emma's hand in thanks before letting her go. "Yeah… I can do that. Thanks, Emma."

Emma opened the door to her office and strode in. It wasn't furnished in all white and modern furnishings as her corporate office in Manhattan, but this one still shouted Emma Frost with its opulently upholstered furniture, forest green walls and real mahogany paneling. Towering bookshelves and her favorite paintings littered the walls. It was more masculine than she normally preferred, but it seemed to fit her mantle as teacher here. Plus, with the fireplace on the outer wall, it was a nice room to sit and enjoy a glass or two of bourbon while grading papers. After all, there was only so much time she wanted to spend secluded in her own suite upstairs.

She smiled faintly as a cat meowed from outside her open window. A slinky figure hopped onto the windowsill and immediately came over to her, weaving in and out between Emma's ankles, greeting her vocally.

"Well you're in a good mood today," Emma muttered fondly and squatted down to give her companion a warm caress. Even after all this time she refused to think of Sharon as a pet, even if she did pet her like one on occasion. Despite her cat-like demeanor, she actually was the sole surviving member of the original super powered teenage group, the Hellions. Sharon Smith, codenamed Catseye because she could turn into a purple furred housecat or lion-sized version, had been the only survivor besides Emma herself. If that's what you'd call living in your smaller cat-form, refusing to change back to human or speak to anyone. With Sharon being more cat than mutant now, Emma despaired of ever being able to heal her of her trauma to function normally ever again. But that didn't mean Emma gave up trying.

"Did Kathryn remember to feed you while I was gone?" Emma asked softly. A quite mental nod of assent was her only answer, but at least it was an answer. "Well, I do hope she didn't feed you cat food like Robert did. That was the first and last time I'll ever ask him to watch out for you. I swear that man is about as smart as a… Yes, yes I know you like him." Emma answered when Sharon swatted her hand in reproach.

Emma sighed as she stood back up and walked to the huge walnut desk with the small purple-furred cat following and hopping up to make herself at home on a stack of papers on her desk. "We have a new resident if she stays. I think I'll ask her to join the weekly therapy group. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

"Mroow."

"I'll just take that as resounding assent."

Sitting down she nearly groaned out loud at how tired and sore she was. There had hardly been any time today to eat, let alone take a bath to loosen her muscles and relax. There was never any time lately to just relax. Teaching. X-Men missions. Frost International. Those damnable nightmares that she hoped were now passed, now that they'd found Angela. It wouldn't be the first time that she wished there were three of her, perhaps four like her Cuckoos. It would make life so very much easier for her. Of course, it would also bring its own series of headaches but it might just be worth it.

Unfortunately, she thought to herself, creating more clones of oneself was a tad expensive and the other X-Men would likely disapprove. Mores the pity.

A sharp rap on her door startled her momentarily before she sent her mind out to see who was bothering her at this time of night. Wincing at the uncomfortable mental noise as the door opened without invitation she wished for a moment that she had telekinesis like Jean, so she could hold the door shut on her late night visitor.

Scott Summers, headache extraordinaire.

Emma centered the stack of quizzes a substitute teacher had thoughtfully left for her from the day's Ethics and Morals class she usually held.

"What do you want, Scott? It's late. I'm not in the mood for company and I have papers to grade," she greeted coolly as she uncapped her red pen and started on the first one.

Checking the second answer as incorrect, she underlined a specific word in the question and carefully wrote alongside it in her crisp print. Mr. Vaccarro, the question demands you compare the definitions of morality, ethics and values in your own words. I will not accept the tripe you memorized off of Wikipedia.

"I thought we might chat for a moment, Emma," Scott replied calmly as he made himself at home, taking a seat across from her.

Emma sighed heavily, pressing her pen a bit more forcibly into the paper than was actually needed. "And what is it you wish to chat about Scott?"

"Your little unauthorized field trip to Genosha."

Lifting her head up she looked straight at him, visualizing where his eyes would be if they weren't covered by the visual aid Forge had created for him. Instantly she let her face drop into the unemotional mask she had long ago mastered.

"Jean happens to be the co-headmaster, in case you have forgotten Scott. She approved it. In fact, she suggested it," she answered, her words sharp.

"I should have been consulted," he insisted, leaning forward.

Emma sat back into the padded back of her leather chair and glared at the insufferable man. "Why? Jean had it covered."

"I'm in char…" he started to sputter then stopped and took a less antagonistic approach, copying Emma's own relaxed posture. "I should be consulted in any mission or X-Men related trips."

The fact that this was not her concern was not lost on Emma, so she refused to answer and back to grading her papers. Really, if the man was unwilling to speak to Jean about something that was in her purview, what was Emma supposed to do about it? Hold his hand? Not likely. Jean had held his hand for years through all the trials and tribulations that made up their marriage and look what that had gotten her.

"Anything else you wish to discuss or are we done? I have a nice bottle of burgundy breathing in my quarters and a hot bath calling my name. I've been up since before the crack of dawn and all of the children are asleep, and to be frank, Scott, I'm more interested in correcting quizzes than 'chatting' with you."

"She's dangerous."

Emma looked up in surprise and blinked at him. "What? Jean? Scott have you been dipping into Hank's pharmaceutical supply?"

"The woman you brought back from Genosha. She's dangerous. She shouldn't be allowed near the children," he demanded firmly.

"I see," she replied, her tone taking a rather amused turn. "And you believe she's dangerous because you shoved me out of your way in the infirmary and she took exception by leaving a scratch on your chest?"

Scott again leaned forward, this time his hands slapped down on the edge of the desk startling Sharon out of her comfortable spot on top of Emma's desk to sprint towards the open window. "She could have cut me in half!"

Emma's eyes hardened as she saw the purple tail of Catseye disappear in the night and her teeth ground as she turned back to the ex-X-Man before her. "You're obviously over-reacting. Again. Perhaps you should go to bed, Scott."

She watched as he ran a shaky hand through his short hair, seemingly trying to get his emotions under control. Emma didn't know what was going on with him, and he didn't seem to be sharing with anyone, but these testosterone driven temper tantrums and accusations of his had to stop.

"Look, Emma, I don't want to fight, especially about her. You're probably right. I'm not giving her a chance. She's a victim. I… I'll try to keep that in mind and follow Jean's lead on this," he offered, almost timidly.

"That would be best. I've found Jean to be a good judge of character," Emma allowed neutrally.

"She always was, even about you before you joined the X-Men," Scott smiled slightly, teasingly.

"Yes, well... I'd rather not know what she thought of me back then."

"Not as badly as you seem to think."

Emma fought not to sigh again. All she really wanted was to finish her work and relax. "Anything else you wish to discuss, Scott?"

She watched as he started fidgeting in his chair at her question and she wondered what he was going to bring up now to waste her valuable time.

After a few minutes watching him, she prodded him. "Yes? I'd really rather not just sit here and…"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner this weekend," he blurted out.

Emma shut her mouth with a surprised click of her teeth. Scott Summers, ex-husband of Jean Grey and lately the royal pain in the ass of Xavier's School of Higher Learning, wanted to go out on a date? Surely God was laughing. If not him, Loki. Loki was just enough of an ass to do this to her.

"Dinner? As in a date?" she asked and had to keep herself from wincing visibly. How very high school sounding of her, she thought. She'd be amused at herself if she wasn't already rather uncomfortably surprised.

"Yes?" Scott replied with a hopeful lilt to his deep voice.

Raising an eyebrow, Emma instantly brought her own surprise under control while trying to keep her face and her voice as calm and unemotional as possible. Not that she was interested, but if the man couldn't even tell whether or not he was asking her out on a date, he deserved to be single.

"While I do appreciate the offer, Scott, I'm afraid I'll be busy looking after our new resident."

If he didn't have that hideous visor covering his eyes, she knew she would see his brow furrowing. As it was, there was a slight frown to his thinned lips.

Emma kept silent, just looking at him. She knew from long experience that it just wouldn't do to apologize and give a man hope when you had no intention of following through. While stringing men along was a tactic Emma knew how to use very well, especially in the Hellfire Club and corporate environments, here with the X-Men and her fellow teachers, it wasn't a healthy way to co-exist with them. Teasing and flirting was one thing and it came as naturally to her as breathing, but she had told Jean the truth, she was not interested in Scott Summers. Hell, she wasn't interested in dating any of the X-Men… well, at least not the male members. She's flirted a time or two with the thought of asking Ororo out on a date and would have… if the woman didn't still harbor the world's longest grudge from the first time Emma had fought the X-Men. I mean really, what was a little mind-swap and infiltration of the X-Men's mansion amongst enemies?

"Another time then?" he insisted.

"No, Scott. I don't think that would be a good idea." Not at all, she told herself.

She watched in almost horrid fascination as his face twisted in anger and he thrust himself up onto his feet, leaning over her desk aggressively again.

"What? Won't date a blind man?" Scott accused.

Emma stood up and walked smoothly to the door, refusing to show an ounce of unease. She wasn't afraid of him physically, since she could turn to diamond before he got off a second hit, and he no longer had his concussion eye blasts. Besides, his demeanor was positively juvenile and even if she had entertained the idea of taking him up on his offer, there was no way she would stoop so low now.

Holding the door open for him, she turned and gave him a cold look, her eyes full of distain. "It's not that I won't date anyone who is blind, Scott. That's not it and if I cared about what you said at all, I'd be insulted. But the truth is, I don't care and I'm just not that much of a masochist to want to date you. You'll have my report on the Genosha trip and Angela sometime tomorrow."

Scott stormed out, with a parting shot of, "Bitch!"

Emma slowly shut the door behind him and walked back to her desk. Something was going on with that man, something she knew she had to speak to Jean about. Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.

Emma smiled softly as she nodded at an acquaintance from her neighborhood. It was early, before the morning rush, her favorite time of the day when the sun was still new and the air crisp and tasted faintly of sea salt from the ocean.

She stepped up to the small coffee cart that she visited every morning, smiling and buying her daily blend and adding a small orange juice and blueberry muffin. As usual she indicated with a smile that he keep the change and then turned to her companion, giving her the juice and muffin. They walked side-by-side slowly, both enjoying the morning.

After taking her first sip she turned slightly to the woman beside her. Emma had been surprised at first to see her here, but then it seemed… right, even if she was just a part of the dream. Angela walked tall beside her, her glowing blue eyes flitting here and there as if soaking up the sights and not just the weather.

"This," Emma smiled and waved an elegant hand through the air. "This is Genosha. Look at them all, Angelica. They're all mutants, like you and me."

She pointed to a small group of winged mutants that swooped through the air currents above. "A family of fliers, all soaring together. I don't know their names but I see them every morning and when the wind is just right, I can hear their laughter. It is exquisite isn't it?"

Emma could see Angelina peering at her, the woman's thoughts telling her that she was smiling as much about Emma's own state of happiness as the seeming idyllic city around them. Emma laughed almost giddily as Angelica shared her own happiness empathically. "Angelica. You don't mind me calling you that do you? You can be Angela to everyone else… I don't know why."

Angelica smiled at her, "I don't mind."

"I'm being silly, I know. I just wanted to show you this. I wish you had known this instead of the one you were born in. To be born free. I'd have liked to see you fly between the one hundred flagpoles that lined the long road to Magneto's mansion, zipping back and forth with abandon. I wonder what color your feathers would have been?" she mused as she crossed the street with her companion following obediently, eating her muffin happily. They entered a huge park sitting in the middle of the city and Emma took a seat at one of the benches just inside, overlooking a sunken Victorian style rose garden. She waited for her Angelica to sit beside her, both taking a moment to enjoy the numerous roses around them.

"I would come here almost every morning to drink coffee and enjoy the city waking up around me. So many minds, such happiness. It wasn't perfect, of course, partners still squabbled and children still cried, but it seemed closer to perfection than anywhere else I'd been."

Leaning back Emma closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sun, the bright rays making her blonde hair shimmer in the light, a slight breeze blowing strands onto her face and nose tickling her. She could feel Angelica's eyes on her and almost shivered.

"It feels so real, doesn't it? So very real," she said, her voice dipping lower, softer.

But it wasn't. The sound of birds. The warm scented breeze. The millions of mutants that walked in freedom around her. It was all just a dream.

A dream gone by.

Emma turned and smiled sadly at Angela… Angelica. "Even you're just a dream."

TBC