A/N: Why HELLOOOOOOOOO, it has been so LONG. I decided to take mercy on myself and just post the stinkin' chapter since all of you obvioulsy didn't feel like taking pity on me and giving me my requested reviews.

To all those who reviewed: I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH~ THANK YOU~~~~~

To all those who didn't review: *blows raspberry* JERKS!

But oh, well, que sera, sera, what ever will be, will be....I had a difficult time nailing Scott, i don't fee like i'm getting him right..I might go back and read some of my comic,s watch the movies again, see if i can get into his head a little better...Please tell me what you think, even if you think it is poo. I can't really tell you how much getting a review makes me want to write more.

Chapter Ten

The room wasn't bad, all things considered. The walls were a pale, mellow green, and the furniture was as tasteful and wooden as the rest of the mansion. There were two twin size beds here, two dressers, and one desk in front of the only window of the room. On it sat a boxy computer, only a few years out of date. There had been clean bed clothes folded neatly at the end of the bed, simple sheets of white and a comforter and pillowcases of a deep royal blue. It was actually pretty if you went for the preppy look when choosing bed room décor.

Izzy had made her bed as soon as she had been able to escape old Bob, and laid down on it, stretching her legs out and draping her arms around her body in a careless flop. And then, horrors of all horrors, she had settled down to do some thinking.

If Izzy know her mother, and she did, she knew that her personal belongings would be here by the end of the night. The clothes issue would be taken care of. However, that still left the question of this whole new living arrangement in order. She had to room to herself, but according to Cookie Monster, that would change at any moment, so it would be best to keep aware at all times. On top of that would be the classes that she would have to pick up on, hopefully at the same level as her last school. She couldn't be certain however, as this place was a private school, even if it was for freaks and muties.

Izzy sighed and swung a hand up to rub her forehead. She suspected that this place would be even harder to navigate to her liking, especially given the fact that all of her new classmates would expect her to be open and relieved now that she was among her "own kind." Now she wouldn't be able to just ignore the world, and have the world politely return the favor. No, she would be getting tons of attention, what with all of her new-girl-appeal. Too much attention, if this afternoon was to be any indication.

The rest of the tour of the mansion had included several classes that we in session, as she was being introduced to all of the part-time teaching staff. She had received wide eyes from her fellows, as the teachers had all just nodded and greeted her lightly, dismissing her as soon as she left with good ole' boy, Bob-o. Izzy didn't have to see them to know they whispered as soon as her back was turned. Her appearance was always enough for at least that. All of this hype would just mean more visitors, more people looking to become acquainted with her to get her story, maybe make a friend that would lead to some fun but illegal benefits. This just meant more hands to avoid shaking.

A knock at the door interrupted her musings, and Izzy hauled herself to her bare feet to answer, knowing that this was only the start. Pausing with a hand on the doorknob to compose her face into a suitable expression of boredom and distant preoccupation. To promote this air, Izzy only opened her door enough to show her face and a shoulders, gazing out at the girl that stood there. When the girl didn't speak, merely blinked out at her, Izzy arched a brow and asked. "Did you want something?"

"Oh! Um…" the girl looked away, blushing and mumbling with a faint twang. "Storm wanted to see you."

Sto-orm wanted tah see yew, was how she pronounced the sentence. Izzy felt her mouth twitch at the name. "Well, I suppose I must go this Sto-orm." Izzy returned, mockingly.

The girl frowned, a light leaping to her eyes. She tilted her head to the side and stepped back when Izzy opened her door further. "I suppose you should."

Izzy did a double take then, looking back to the girls face to gaze it a closer examination. Her eyes were bright, and there was a hard set to her mouth. Her long light brown hair was pulled into a pony tail at the back of her head, all but obscuring the streak of white. She had dark eyes, and was wearing a dark sweater over dark jeans, concluded with an worn pair of red Converse. She had the type of body most boys would have liked, but she carried herself with an almost rebellious air, just daring someone to say something.

"Huh," Izzy said, as she concluded her appraisal. "Lead the way, nameless Tiger Lily."

The other looked at Izzy funnily, then, but Izzy just grinned her most vacant smile, and waited for her to start moving.

Eventually they came back down to the main floor, by way of the great staircase, and passed by the old guy's office and around he corner, taking the turn opposite the stairs that led up from the garage. The hallway soon changed into a long row of windows that looked out over the lawn and the greenhouse, with a coniferous wood looming in the distance. On her tour earlier, Bobby had said something about there being a lake somewhere down a wooded trail, or something equally as clichéd.

Near the end of the hall the girl stopped. She placed her hand on a door to her left and knocked loudly. The voice of the African woman from earlier answered. "Come in!"

The girl smiled at Izzy, in what Izzy assumed was supposed to be a supporting way, but honestly it was just awkward and empty. Izzy returned the expression brightly and walked past her, pushing the door open.

"I'm Rogue, by the way," the girl said, and turned to walk quickly away.

Izzy felt her face turn into a sneer at the name. Izzy just really hoped that wasn't the girl's birth name. It was a little…trying, a little fake, like the girl, Rogue, was trying just a bit too hard. She sighed and shook her head, looking forward to the woman sitting behind her desk, surrounded by a myriad of plants and sitting in the brilliant afternoon late winter sun.

"Hi," the woman greeted Izzy warmly. "Please have a seat."

Izzy donned her best, most blank expression and sat, pointedly not returning a greeting.

"I'm Ms. Munroe, or Storm, when we're outside the classroom. We just need to get your classes in order, then we can get you started on school. Hank gave me your transcripts, and old files from your last school. I think from your records--"

Izzy rolled her eyes, making Storm stumble over her words a bit, but the woman continued on, a little taken aback. This woman was a prime example of the typical, good-hearted teacher. She would be easy as pie.

"--that we should try putting you in higher level classes. Your test scores are really, quite good, and I think with our smaller class sizes, you'll do better in the classroom."

Wait…What? Higher classes? Honors? It was now Izzy's turn to look taken a aback. What?

"What?"

"I think your, ah, behavior issues can be solved quite easily here, Isabelle. You no longer have any reason to hold people away from you."

What? How…What? Then it snapped. The old guy, he was a telepath. Bastard. Apparently while he had been spewing the merits of his institution, he had also gone fishing through Izzy's mind and memories. Izzy scowled.

"Do you have anything to say, Isabelle?" Storm inquired sweetly, too sweetly for Izzy's tastes.

"I can't say I really care, Ms.--" Izzy was careful to draw the word out and make it as insulting as she could-- "Munroe."

Storm raised her eye brows in response, and wordlessly handed a piece of paper across her desk to Izzy. Izzy stared at it, slowly counting to ten in her head, thinking about ripping it in half as soon as she accepted it, but refrained and took it gently, folding it crisply in half, and flashing a sickly sweet smile at the room.

Izzy waited a second or two, and when Storm didn't say anything else, she stood up and exited the office without a word.

*!*

Emma Frost was beautiful and Emma Frost knew it. Scott could tell she was aware of every move she made, and every reaction to every move. That had been another difference between he and Jean. Jean had always been oblivious to her physical appeal, while Emma was aware of it, and took every opportunity to exploit it.

But despite Scott's thoughts on his fiancée, or rather former fiancée, if that footage, had been anything to go by, the man found himself flowing Emma's body around the white marble rooms as she made tea, served it, and gave instructions to her three MiniMe's. The Stepford Cuckoo's, Emma had called the three smaller, near perfect blond girls who bore an eerie similarity to Emma herself.

"I'll ask you again, Emma," Scott said bringing his eyes up to her icily perfect face, and blinking past the images of Jean that flashed before his eyes, "What am I doing here? Where are all the others? What happened to me?"

Why can I see?

Emma smiled at Scott from her seat across the room, a vision of white, with glimpses of her pale skin framed by the color. "Must we go over this again, darling? That is all irrelevant. What you need to know now, is that all of this has been a sham. That miserable cure they put out isn't working like they thought it would, and all of the weaklings who took it are finding this out now, yet there has still been no release to the public on the dangerous after effects of taking it."

Scott could only stare at the woman, at his former classmate and think about all of her actions, starting at the facility was back when. Years later, she had resurfaced as a part of a power hungry crime circle that called themselves the Hellfire Club, Emma going by the code name White Queen.

"Why does that involve me, then Emma? I didn't take they cure, and now I'm as powerless as if I did. Why did you save me?"

"Well, apart form it being a dreadful waste of a pretty male body, you, Scott, are the only one who can get me to the resources that I need to fix what the media and government is over looking. You are the only one who can get me close enough to Xavier and his X-men so that I can make use of their resources."