A/N - Practically An Avenger and XoverA - thanks for the reviews! Practically An Avenger - your reviews continue to delight us. 3 XOA - I'm not sure where you're getting Billy and James splitting ... seemed pretty comfy cozy to me ...
Chapter 79 - Oh, Hell.
James was in the middle of a deep discussion with his physics professor when the door to the office opened and his secretary looked between the two of them nervously. "Mr. Howlett has someone waiting for him in the dean's office," he said. He looked at James for an instant, giving him a quick, nervous once-over that James was utterly tired of already. "They said it's urgent."
James looked from the secretary to his professor, then nodded as he got to his feet.
"We'll pick this up later, James," his professor promised before she smiled his way. "You're doing well."
He nodded, not at all looking convinced as he followed the secretary to the dean's office. The man was just leaving as James got there, too.
"The next time your representative wants to speak to you, arrange for that meeting to take place off campus on your own time," the dean told him with a stern expression. "I want to speak with you before you return to your classes." He glared for a moment longer before he left James quietly frowning after him.
He pushed the door of the office open only to see that his dad was right. Emma Frost was pushing and she looked as if she was perfectly in control of the situation already. He stepped inside, and as he was closing the door, Emma asked him to close it. It was just enough that he paused, considering leaving it open all the same before someone on the other side took a hold of the doorknob and pulled it shut in spite of James' reluctance.
"Please, have a seat, James," Emma said briskly. "We have much to discuss."
"I don't think we do."
"Then that's one thing you are desperately wrong about." She gestured to the loveseat by the window overlooking the grounds. "No reason to be uncomfortable; this may take a while, after all."
James paused, frowning to himself and not at all wanting to do anything she said. "Miss Frost, I don't remember asking for your help. In fact, I'm pretty sure I told you as gently as possible that whatever services you offer aren't required or wanted."
"And I recall telling you that you didn't have a choice in the matter." When James opened his mouth to reply, she was already grinning. "You're still a minor, James. You need the help. Stop being so obstinate and let's talk. What harm is a little discussion going to have?"
"Considering you're pulling me out of classes that I'm required to be in, could be a lot of harm."
"We both know that your physics professor practically worships the ground you walk on. Come. Sit." She patted the cushion next to her and rearranged herself as she waited for him to do as he was told, then looked entirely put out when he crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow. "Oh. I didn't mean for that to sound so ... just have a seat, please."
As much as he hated it, he didn't see another reasonable option. "How much of what you're doing to them is telepathic?" James asked as he made his way over, still guarded, still leery.
"What difference does it make?" Emma replied, doing her best approximation of a warm smile.
"All the difference," James replied, standing in front of her and still reluctant to sit down.
"James, this is going to be a very long conversation if you can't simply be reasonable." She smiled tightly and gave him a once over. "The sooner you sit down, the sooner we can get through our little chat."
"Fine," James grumbled, then tried to find a way to not touch her when he sat next to her. Not that he could quite manage that.
Emma started out talking about everything she'd already covered in their last conversation, or lack thereof, then took out some papers and shifted closer. James leaned back to get her out of his immediate space, which at least got her to stop the forward motion. As she moved on from trying to convince him that he'd been wronged - which he knew - to pushing to allow her to advocate on his behalf with tales of others she'd helped, James found himself putting his focus on controlling his facial expressions.
It wasn't that he didn't still find himself attracted to pretty girls … or even pretty older women generally speaking. It was that Emma, to him, was neither of those things. He knew her character was rotten and that she was trying to find the right in to use him, though he still didn't know to what end. And on an entirely superficial level, she just … had some issues, not the least of which was the fact that she'd slept with both his dad and his mentor. So the posturing and posing in a too low cut blouse wasn't nearly as helpful as she thought.
He was pretty lost in thought trying to ignore her perfume when she put her hand on his knee. He really didn't think much of it until she started to inch her way higher, which was when he totally refocused on her hand and stared at it for a few moments. She was midway through her pitch on what she wanted to do for him career wise and far too high up his thigh when he interrupted her. "What are you doing?" James asked, perfectly flatly.
Emma smiled again in her unsettling, cold way, then spoke in tones that simply had no business coming out of a professional woman's mouth in an advisory capacity. "Just trying to get a better idea of what kind of an agreement we can come to."
James' mouth went dry as he realized exactly how right his dad and Tony were, and before he could censor himself or temper his response, he looked up to meet her gaze. "You know you're way too old for me, right?"
Emma looked as if she'd been slapped, but she didn't move yet. Not right away. She gathered up her composure, put on a more calculating smile, and pressed on. "I'm not that old, dear. And there's something to be said for learning from someone with experience."
James looked horrified and reached down to move Emma's hand back into her own space. "I'm seeing someone," he said.
"Oh, as if that's ever stopped a man. It's an excellent way to get to know a person, and it doesn't mean anything…"
"Listen. I know you've had to have spent a lot of money on surgery, and as far as that kind of thing goes, they have done a good job, but I … I can still see that you're desperately grasping for something that has been gone for a good, long while." He tried to move a little further away, though Emma wasn't trying to stop him this time.
"You can't...that's not possible," Emma nearly whispered with a hollow laugh that held no mirth. "I have the very best-"
"Yes, I'm sure you do, but it's hard to ignore the unnatural thinness down the length of your nose, the puffed up cheek bones and injected lips … your skin looks stretched and thin, and all the botox and cream in the world won't get rid of the eyelines, but," James said as he got to his feet, both hands in front of him. "Even if all that was somehow miraculously not a thing, there are markers I'm fully aware of that you can't do a thing about."
Emma's fingers had flitted up to the outer corners of her eyes, shocked and in disbelief. "That's simply not true." She narrowed her eyes further. "What kind of markers do you think exist that I can't avoid if I truly want to?" she asked, sounding livid already, so James saw no reason to hold back outside of trying to be a gentleman.
"I don't think you want to hear it."
"Tell me what you think you know." Anger was flashing in her eyes, and if looks could kill, she'd have surely murdered him on the spot.
James gently dipped his chin toward his chest but never blinked as he held eye contact. "It's not offensive, just a fact," he started out. "You can change your outer appearance or telepathically project it to people that can't block you all you want, but the fact remains that at a certain age, the human body begins to release higher concentrations of benzothiazole, dimethylsulphone, and an unsaturated aldehyde called 2-nonenal." He paused, knowing damn well that she had no idea what he was talking about. "All the high priced perfume in the world doesn't cover the fact that you are aging, and someone with a nose like mine cannot ignore it."
Emma sputtered, beyond furious - beyond words - as she got to her feet in a snit.
"Some people can control it better … but you can't hide it, no matter what you do." Finally, James seemed to get back on his own footing better. "It wasn't a bad play, Ms. Frost. Maybe … I mean … the sex approach might work better if you'd sent a daughter - or … no. The Cuckoos are too old, too, aren't they? Maybe a grand daughter might be closer to my age?"
She let out a sound that had no real description to James, but he kept a straight face as Emma drew back, obviously ready to hit him. Which was when James finally smirked at her with all the same confidence and attitude Logan had whenever he'd come after Emma with a good quip. "The next time you want to talk to me or pull me out of class, clear it by Miss Potts," James said, knowing better than to send her to Tony, even if that's what she'd do anyhow. "I'm trying to finish my work here and this kind of distraction isn't helpful to either of us."
Emma's cheeks burned brightly, likely the first almost youthful thing she'd exhibited from the moment she showed up, and without more than a half-hidden snarl, she stormed out, leaving James to take a moment to speak with the dean when he returned to make it clear that he had no arrangement with Ms. Frost. But to his shock, the dean closed the door behind himself and reprimanded James for insulting Emma for a solid ten minutes.
It left James in a state of shock but also thoroughly convinced that the dean was being mind-controlled. So, instead of arguing, he apologized for any misunderstanding and left the office fuming. He couldn't leave campus until his classes were over, and he couldn't miss another one that day, from what the dean had told him. So all he could do was fake it through the last class, get to the house, and call Betsy - as he'd been told to do, because he didn't trust that he wouldn't be overheard on campus.
His foot was jiggling as he watched the second hand on the clock in the lecture hall drag by, though that only had his mind racing on what he wanted to do first … and at the very top of his list was breaking out the scanner he had at the house to make sure Emma didn't hit him with some nanotech or something. She might not understand it, but he was very sure she wasn't above using it.
As soon as his last class was out, he was on his way back to the house, hyper aware of anyone that might be following him, and resolute in not texting anyone until he could check himself over. The other side of it, of course, was that he was carrying his panic button in his hand - just in case, because for the way she was pushing, he wouldn't put it past her to try something a lot less subtle, either.
He was followed, he was very sure - the black car following slowly was like a confession as to who was pestering him - but they didn't engage, and James was thankful for it. When he got to the house, he wasn't surprised to find that the car finally continued on, even if they passed his place slowly - but by then, James was already running the scanners he had at the door that he used every day he was in Cambridge.
He considered calling out to see if anyone was there, thought better of it, and simply started stripping down at the door. If he did have any nanotech on him, he wasn't about to drag it up to his bedroom. A quick sprint and a scan for nanites that checked not only James but went so far as to scan the house, too, showed nothing of note … and that, finally, had James relaxing slightly. So then, he finally texted Betsy with a very stripped down chain of events where he expressed his concern that the dean had been tampered with. And instead of texting back, she replied by firing up Cerebro and reaching out.
Do you need me to come and check you over? Betsy asked, as she tried to search his memory already to see how badly it had gone.
No. I'm fine. But like I said, I'm more concerned about the dean.
I'm not sure how I can get in to see him and fix it if that's the problem.
Yeah, I'm sure a ninja has real trouble getting around.
You sound like Logan when you do that. But I tell you what; I'll look into it. In the meantime, don't step outside of that house other than for school until I can come see you.
I was planning on going home tomorrow, James pointed out. I need to get out of this town when I don't have anything to do. He was tense on hearing that he might have to stay out of actual contact with the family becuase of something stupid Emma did.
And it took far too long for Betsy to finally reply. Don't go home.
Then where do you want me to go? The school? Or the tower?
Based on what you already told her, the tower would likely be a safer bet since I've already fortified everyone there. Keep her away from the school if you can. I'll let your dad know what's happening. Betsy paused. I know you need to get away from the feeling that town leaves you with, but I don't want you travelling alone.
James paused, frowning as he looked around the room. That … was a fair point and one he didn't really like to admit to.
I'll send someone to help keep an eye out for trouble, Betsy promised. I don't want you alone, and no, Billy isn't going to fit the bill. I'll tell him to stay here tonight. When James didn't respond or react at all, she continued. We do not want him to be forced to deal with whatever tampering Emma Frost may try.
James grumbled to himself, then shifted focus. Let me be the one to tell him at least.
Fine. But I'm going to reinforce it. You two can make it a few days apart, I'm sure.
Thanks, James replied. I think.
I'll let you know who's headed your way once we figure it out, Betsy replied, knowing full well that Bobby was just a short drive away and would be more than happy to do his observation up close. Don't go wandering now.
James didn't respond, knowing that Betsy was raring to get going - and that she'd be using Cerebro as her own, personal walkie-talkie for the time being. It was quicker than allowing someone to ignore their phone or miss the text and far harder to hack into anyhow. But luckily for him, even if someone hacked into his phone for his texts to Tony, it would look like he was just going home for the weekend if they believed his half-lie about being raised by the Avengers.
He was quick to text Billy and tell him what happened in as short and direct a way as possible. Hi. I'm now actively being stalked by an evil witch. I'll tell you all about it when I get home to the tower tomorrow if you're free. It was the best way he could see of both quietly letting him know there was a problem, and also letting him know that he thought his communication might be compromised as well.
He knew Billy was in one of Storm's classes and wasn't able to reply, so in the meantime, he texted Tony to let him know he'd be coming to the tower Friday night.
He headed up to take a shower when Tony's reply came in with enough entertainment mixed in that James was left groaning to himself at Tony's thought process.
Are you going to need to see your therapist this weekend?
James paused as he got the water running, knowing he had to actually answer or Tony would have someone pulled in. I'm taking a shower in about five seconds. Please do not turn this into a thing.
Too late. I'll have him here on Saturday for you.
James rubbed his eyes with one hand, knowing he wasn't going to get out of it, so instead, he didn't bother responding before he set his phone down and started washing up - just because he still had the creeps from Emma trying to play Grandma Robinson. And that was a hard image to shake.
He started texting back and forth with Billy once he was cleaned up, but he was really wishing he could get out of there instead.
But he wasn't expecting his back up to be that fast, or for Bobby to show up with pizza in hand, ready to hang out, either. At least Bobby was one of the few choices that would have a sense of humor … even if he came with his own horror-like cautionary tales about Emma Frost.
As far as Craig had been aware, things had been going relatively well for Scott lately. Yes, he was stressed about the situation with James, but it sounded like James was handling it well and he knew Scott was keeping busy teaching at the school. So, he was surprised to get a call from Scott asking him to take on James as a client as well - and more surprised when Scott let him know that he didn't want to explain himself over the phone. That it was something best explained in person.
The surprises continued, too. Scott arrived at his session with a device James had made for him and set it down on Craig's desk. Before he said anything more than hello, he showed Craig how to turn it on and then sat back, scrubbing a hand over his face and looking more tired than Craig had seen him look in a long time.
"Okay, I'll admit to being intrigued," Craig said.
Scott nearly smirked, but the expression didn't make it all the way across his face. "James is going to arrange for a space for you to meet with him at Avengers Tower later tonight. But in the meantime, this will prevent telepaths from listening in on your sessions. Might help ease the mind of some other clients, too."
"Thank you," Craig said. "But I still don't understand…"
"Right." Scott blew out all his breath again but still didn't directly address Craig. It had been a while since Scott had been this unwilling to talk about something, and Craig found himself leaning forward, his hands clasped in front of him. "James has drawn the attention of the Hellfire Club," he said at last. "They've been widening their net of influence in the years the X-Men were gone, and Emma Frost has been doing what she does best - advocating for mutants while recruiting useful people for the progress of her club."
"Ah." Craig nodded. "That has to be awkward for personal reasons alone," he ventured, knowing the dating history from the simple fact that he'd lived in New York for so long. He hadn't really talked to Scott about Emma before except a brief conversation they'd had in which Scott had explained that Emma had been his last therapist and that hadn't been nearly as helpful as he'd hoped it would be. Which Craig thought was an understatement, all things considered. Craig had been working with Scott for a matter of several months and already he could see that the man's problems had started long before Graydon Creed. The number of traumatizing events in Scott's past would have given anyone PTSD, and the fact that Scott had next to no coping methods for trauma when he'd arrived at Craig's office told Craig everything he needed to know about Emma's time with him.
Still, he kept his professional opinion to himself. For the moment.
Scott was quiet for a long time. "I think," he said at last, "that Emma wants James' influence with the Avengers, the X-men, and with Stark Industries. That would be a big feather in the Hellfire Club's cap. He's due to inherit power and influence, and that's always what they're after." He paused. "We're doing what we can to keep her away from him."
"I'm afraid I don't know enough about the Hellfire Club to understand the aversion," Craig admitted. "If anything, I've had a few young mutants come through my office singing her praises about how she's gotten them safely into adulthood."
"Yeah, I never said she wasn't good at what she does," Scott said. "That's why she was on the X-Men. The professor knew she was capable." He paused again, and Craig didn't need to be a telepath to know so much was left unsaid in that silence. "The problem stems from the fact that they use their charity to build a network of people who are indebted to them in a way that makes them unable to say no if and when the Hellfire Club comes asking for a favor. And they'll cash in those debts the second they know it will benefit them. Usually, that means the person paying up loses something they hold dear, if not everything. It goes without saying that I don't want James indebted to a group that worships money, glory, power, and selfishness. And that's the kind version."
"Yeah, it has to be. You're still avoiding telling me what's got you worked up. You don't have a problem talking about villains when they're just that - villains." Craig raised an eyebrow. "So…"
Scott muttered a word under his breath that was quiet enough Craig didn't hear it, but the way his lips moved made it unmistakable. "I don't want her to realize he's my son," he said at last.
Both of Craig's eyebrows shot up. "You think that would be a problem?"
"I think it would make him a target for her. Personally. Not just for the Hellfire Club." Scott sighed and didn't meet Craig's gaze. "The last thing I want is for her to think she can use my son to get to me."
Craig frowned deeply at Scott's wording. "Must be a helluva ex."
"You have no idea."
"I'd like to," Craig said, but when Scott's entire expression twisted, he held up both hands. "I don't need the dirty details. It's pretty obvious you're not happy with how it ended. Or how it started. Or something. But in the meantime, tell me what I need to do to keep James safe. We'll talk about the rest of it later, but it sounds like you're sending me into the lion's den the way you're acting."
Scott gave him a tight smile. "Betsy Braddock came with me today. She's going to help you build your telepathic defenses. And then, let's walk you through some tower security."
One thing James was incredibly unprepared for was what he hoped would be the only morning wake up call with Bobby Drake doing his best to play protective uncle … or something.
When James' alarm went off, he was taken off balance by the fact that coffee was brewing already, and when he got downstairs, still bed-headed and sleepy, Bobby was entirely too perky. Or caffeinated. One or the other, James wasn't entirely sure.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Bobby sang out, on his feet in a moment. "How long do you have before you need to be in class?"
James frowned and looked at the clock on the wall, then back at Bobby. "I've got time."
"So like … two hours? What are we looking at here?" Bobby asked, rifling through the cabinets until he found a box of Poptarts. He frowned then held them up. "I thought you didn't like sweet stuff?"
James let out a patient sigh as he got a cup of coffee. "Now and again I'll have one if I'm stressed out," he explained, hoping that would be enough to gloss over things with Bobby. At least enough that he didn't get overly suspicious … and that meant throwing one of the damn things in the toaster and rolling with it.
"Oh," Bobby said, watching him as he sat down with his breakfast. "Do you need me to do anything?"
"If you stopped hovering, that'd be great," James deadpanned.
"Yeah, no … see … I'm going to be driving you to class and picking you up, too. No reason to make it easy on someone who might want to abduct our little Wolverine."
"Why would you do that?"
"Hey. You got the warning talk. Now you need the full protection. Who knows what could happen."
"I hate you."
"Hate me on the way to school," Bobby said with a grin.
"Not even Dad says things that dumb," James said, though he was headed up to change all the same.
"Says you. I've known him a lot longer and heard all the dumb things he's said."
James considered him for a moment. "If you drive me to school, you won't be able to get back into the house without a bunch of alarms going off."
"S'fine, I'll wait in the car," Bobby said with a wave, though James wasn't so sure he liked the adjustment. Still … Bobby wasn't budging, and James honestly wasn't comfortable arguing with people he loved, so, he went along with what Bobby said without any further commentary.
But when it came time to go back to New York after classes, James had come to a decision. "I'm driving. In my car. This one … is going to take forever to get there," James said even as he climbed in with Bobby.
"Um, I'd like to drive," Bobby said as he started toward the house in Cambridge.
"It'll only start for the people that are DNA coded to it," James argued. "Sorry uncle popsicle, you're not on the list."
Bobby frowned at him for a long moment. "Fine. But I get to pick the radio station."
"Fair," James agreed.
When they got to the house, James zipped in to grab a few things, then locked up for the weekend as he and Bobby went to the garage to get James' car instead of Bobby's. Their agreement held reasonably enough, and Bobby was having a blast in spite of himself once he got to really looking around at the after market features that James and Tony had put in already - with space for more just calling for Bobby to make his James Bond-like suggestions. But almost every one was met with 'I already did that to Kate's car' or 'that doesn't even make sense' or 'what are you? Five?' all the way back to New York.
Bobby stuck with him like glue, too, even with the inducer James was wearing working perfectly enough that he walked right by the gathered crowd of reporters that were always mulling around the parking complex. The ride to the top of the tower was mostly silent, and when he got to the top floor, James was somehow not expecting for the first person he saw to be Jan - executing a perfect small to normal sized tackle hug that no one could prevent.
He dropped his bag at his feet and kept her feet from touching the ground as she bear hugged him. "You have been away from the tower for way too long," Jan told him as Bobby skirted around him.
"Yeah, well … your husband wanted me to get some degrees, so you can blame him," James replied, then finally set her on her feet.
"We've been watching your tracker to see when you'd get here … you totally blew my bet out the window!"
"You try driving with Bobby singing along to Boston at the top of his lungs," James challenged. "It has a tendency to get you to drop the hammer a little bit."
Jan smiled and took his arm to pull him along. "I'll take your word for it." She winked at Bobby, who made a point to grab James' discarded bookbag as they headed for the living area where Tony was waiting and chatting with Craig of all people.
But the conversation ended abruptly when Tony saw James and got to his feet with an expression that managed to straddle both proud, relieved dad and anxious about everything that had been going on. "Bout time you showed up, kiddo," Tony said, as Jan slipped out of the way so Tony could pull him into a quicker, but still tight hug. "We've been waiting for you."
"I see that," James replied, walking with Tony's arm across his shoulders toward where Craig was getting to his feet. "Is Dad here?"
"Getting coffee," Tony said. "I told him I could have Jarvis handle it-"
"You know he doesn't like to bother Jarvis," James said, to which Tony more or less waved off as they reached Craig. "Hi, Mr. Hale. I'm guessing Dad decided to drag you into this? I know it was probably getting to be too much for Rabbi Cohen - but you don't have to do this, either."
"Rabbi Cohen is perfectly fine," Craig said. "But as I understand it, once we get telepaths involved, I think everyone would rather he keep his mind and not miss anything important with his duties as a rabbi. So as long as you're comfortable talking to me, I'd like to see what I can do to help," Craig said.
James was holding his breath and halfway nodding to himself as he turned to Tony. "Okay … I don't know what you have in mind-"
"Cleared your lab of all the experimental stuff," Tony said, his arm still around James' shoulders even as Scott came in.
"Okay," James said, then raised a hand halfway to his dad. "I guess it's the lab, then. Are you going with, or ..."
"I'd like him there to start," Craig said. "I know I don't have all the right background information, so I'd like to get it from both of you and go from there."
James smirked. "Okay, well … you asked for it. Left her speechless anyhow," James had to tease just to try and get the anxious look off of Scott's face as he led the way to the lab and keyed his code in to get all three inside. He gestured for Craig to pick where they should start since James could think of a few options - none of which had more draw than the other, though he was pretty comfortable in guessing that it would be the little almost-living room by the windows. That was most cozy, anyhow.
Sure enough, Craig led the way so they could sit down on the couches overlooking the city, resting his chin on his clasped hands. "I want you to start by telling me your side, James," he said. "I know for a fact that Scott has more history with this woman to tell me, so I'd rather start with you."
"The first time she talked to me, or this last one?" James asked, since he didn't know what Scott had told Craig.
Craig raised one eyebrow but didn't otherwise react. "Yes."
"O-kay," James said, then turned toward Scott as he drew in a deep, centering breath. "First time I was in the library at the college, working on a paper when she shut my laptop so I'd talk to her," James explained. "She did it in a public place to make it easier to push me to listen to her pitch and I told her I was already well represented, and no thanks." He shrugged. "More or less."
When Scott didn't object, James continued, though he looked less comfortable with sharing that encounter. "This last time, she had me pulled out of physics class so she could talk to me privately in the dean's office."
"Not exactly helpful when you're supposed to be in class under their supervision," Craig pointed out. "She's hurting her cause. That tells me she's after more than just clearing your name."
James shook his head. "I'm entirely sure she was working over the faculty," he said. "The dean was even less himself and got after me when she left about being disrespectful, though she didn't talk to him." He looked at Scott. "I heard her leave. She never slowed down and she didn't say a word to anyone." Then, he turned back to Craig. "And no. I don't think she ever had any interest in clearing my name. If she had, she would have been by weeks ago when this mess started up."
"That's what your father said, more or less," Craig agreed. "I just wanted to hear your side."
"That's what I said to her, too," James said.
"And what did she say to you this time?" Scott asked, one eyebrow raised. "I knew she'd approached, but I didn't know she'd cornered you again. After that first meeting, I know she wasn't thrilled that you turned her down."
"She … started out thinking she had an in and tried to tell me I didn't have a choice in her representing me," James admitted slowly, while still trying to gloss over the details. " might have … maybe … actually been disrespectful this time. But not until she didn't want to take no for an answer. So I think it was more like … treat people how they treat you moments?" But he couldn't stop the troublemaking look no matter how hard he tried. "Kinda."
"You're holding back," Scott said, though he was trying not to smirk because he knew that look and knew it meant James had gotten a good insult off.
"It wasn't anything technically incorrect... " James sighed and closed his eyes. "You were right, Dad. I hoped you weren't but ... She has nothing even close to anything like ethics and she'll try anything to get what she wants, whatever that is. But … ah … so when I put her hand back in her own lap, I pointed out that she was way too old for me. And I outlined how exactly her plastic surgery wasn't helping her case when the scent was from an older person … and I might have told her that it would have been smarter to send in her granddaughter if she wanted to try the seduction route on someone my age? Maybe?"
Scott looked like he wasn't sure if he was ready to laugh at that or get angry on James' behalf or … what. Thankfully, Craig was faster to react with exactly the right level of anger as he repeated: "Back in her own lap?"
"Yeah," James said with a casual nod, brushing over that as much as possible since, in actuality, he was used to people touching him in ways he didn't invite or want. "She said a few things that I won't repeat when she was trying to push me to negotiate, but she didn't say a word after I pointed out she was way too old and explained why," James said, watching his dad stare for a moment longer before he turned back to Craig. "She thinks she's …I don't think she's the type to listen to anything like reason. Realistically, there's nothing she could do for me that Tony wouldn't or can't, I don't think. And he doesn't want to mentor me by getting in my pants."
Craig's mouth was pressed into a thin line, but he didn't say anything as he pointedly turned toward Scott, who floundered for words a few times with wordless gestures. But Craig didn't look away until Scott let out a quiet sound and muttered, "Wasn't too much older than James at the time."
"She did try to press my telepathic shields," James said, to try and pull his dad out of his stunned quiet, and when Scott looked at him clearly expressing concern, James raised an eyebrow. "Please. I'm so shut down when I'm there, I don't think Rachel could push to say hi on a good day. Took me a solid ten minutes once I got to the house to center enough to let Betsy in on Cerebro."
"That's something at least," Scott said in a sigh. He rubbed a hand over his face. "Well, she won't try that with you again. Not with a response like that. So that's one tactic we don't have to worry about, anyway."
"I think that's the only thing I could have said to get her to back off," James told him. "I also think that if she thought she could murder me with her bare hands, she would have tried."
"She's always been sensitive about her looks," Scott said dryly.
"I kinda figured. But, she needs to look in the mirror because she probably hasn't done herself the favors she thinks," James said just as dryly, then thought about it for a second longer. "Unless she's telepathically cheating …"
Craig shook his head, enjoying the back and forth but knowing they needed to get back to the point. "Still," he said, catching their attention, "I don't blame you for needing a therapist. The same woman who dated your dad pulling something like that…"
"Yeah, not just my Dad. Both of my father figures. She slept with Tony, too," James said, though he sounded unconcerned.
"While we were dating," Scott added, his tone sharp enough that neither James nor Craig could miss that, despite no longer having feelings for Emma, he was still hurt by the betrayal.
Craig shook his head. "I'm still surprised, knowing what I know about you now, how long that lasted."
Scott let out a long breath. "Well," he said, speaking carefully when James was there and knowing Craig wasn't going to let it drop - judging by the look on Craig's face. "It was a bad time."
But James was quick on the uptake as usual, and he wasn't going to stick around if it made anyone uncomfortable. "I can leave if you two want to continue alone," James said quietly.
"Probably best," Scott said, and Craig nodded lightly, seeing as Scott was even less likely to share with an audience of more than one.
James didn't say another word as he got to his feet and silently left, deciding to find Rachel who he was very sure needed to know something about how he'd gotten himself back to staying with the Starks again. And more at ease about letting her just see it rather than recount it blow by blow.
Once the door was shut, Craig turned toward Scott expectantly, though Scott still didn't say anything until Craig prompted him. "There is absolutely nothing you can say that will make me think less of you. Past indiscretions aside, you have shown me again and again where your priorities are. No one is the same person they were in their early twenties, Scott."
Scott sighed and let his shoulders drop. "It wasn't my finest moment," he admitted. "I … I needed to see someone, and the professor had asked Emma to come in as a therapist when he had his hands full." He got up and paced the room a few times, then paused to stare out of the window at the city as a means to find his words easier. "Like I said, she's good at what she does. She ran the school in Massachusetts, knew her stuff inside and out. Jean and I were having problems." He turned and gave Craig a tired smile. "The usual, unfortunately. I didn't know how bad it was at the time, but the Phoenix was getting more power over her by the day. I was too caught up in having just been Apocalypse to see it, but-"
"Wait, slow down." Craig held both hands up. "You were what?"
"That's a whole other story, Craig."
"Then give me the short version."
"Complete mental takeover by a guy bent on murder and conquest via exterminating humans to make way for mutants."
"Right. I forgot what your short versions sound like." Craig shook his head to himself. "Okay, so you needed a trauma counselor while your telepathic wife was distracted."
Scott frowned. "No, I asked for help … relationship help. The Apocalypse fight was over."
Craig matched his frown. "Scott, no relationship is going to come out of trauma like that unaffected. Are you seriously telling me the first thing she did wasn't to work with you for the obvious trauma you'd endured?"
Scott shook his head. "It's not like we hadn't-"
"This was different enough that you didn't see your wife becoming a different person. It was obviously more than the usual X-Men problem." Craig leaned back. "And she's a telepath too? If her first priority wasn't healing your telepathic wounds or reaching out to do a couple's session so you and your wife could both understand how to find your way through the recent trauma, what did she do?"
Scott shrugged helplessly. "She … pointed out how vast the gulf between Jean and I was. I mean, I knew at the time that Jean was interested in Logan - still - but the confluence of events… it was everything wrong at once. The Phoenix, Apocalypse, the same old usual drama on top of all of it…" He paused. "Don't… don't misunderstand me. By the time Jean and I had Rachel, this … this was not a problem anymore. Jean and Logan knew they wouldn't work out. They talked it over - never took it any further than that. And when the Phoenix wasn't in play, Jean made it pretty clear who she wanted. And I wanted her. Always. Emma was…" He trailed off. "Emma was interested the way I wanted Jean to be. But she wasn't Jean."
Craig let out a long, nearly silent sigh. "I understand that, actually. I see it in a lot of clients dealing with trauma. They're looking for support, and if they can't find it in their spouses, the temptation to find it elsewhere is high." He chose his next words carefully. "I guess I'm just trying to understand how you went from marriage counseling to dating her. It sounds to me like she didn't try to help you rebuild your relationship at all."
Scott gestured vaguely. "Yeah, well. It's not like I turned her down. And it was all telepathic to start… not that it excuses anything."
Craig sighed. "I'm sorry," he said. "You'll have to excuse me. I…" He got to his feet. "Let's pick this back up next time. I don't want to lose this thread. We'll meet tomorrow. I just…" His accent was deepening with every word. "To be clear, was this affair during your therapy sessions her idea?"
Scott turned a deep red. "She… well, yes-"
Craig stopped him before he could make excuses again. "Excuse me," he said, exiting the room without another word spoken, absolutely furious in a way he usually didn't get. He'd heard stories of trauma and the worst that people could do to one another, but when it was a fellow mental health professional perpetuating it, he couldn't hide his temper.
The idea that a grown woman would see a young man, barely an adult, hurting and raw and searching for comfort, and take advantage of that vulnerability - especially when Scott's wife was unavailable for circumstances outside of her control with the Phoenix - especially when it was clear Scott blamed himself for every last bit of it, from the affair down to the gulf between him and Jean in the first place… that was more than unprofessional. That was grounds for losing a license.
And so, with no real relationship from which to build a rapport but with all of the fury of an Army kid brought up on Captain America stories who beat up the guys who hit on his sisters… Craig marched himself to where Tony was working on something completely unrelated in the kitchen and announced, with absolutely no introduction, "What do I have to tell you to convince you I need the kind of legal help necessary to file a complaint and challenge Emma Frost's license?"
Tony looked up with a shocked expression. "Pretty sure that's enough," he said. "Especially when she's been trying to come after my kid. Got something to work with? I'll make sure my guys can back you." He got to his feet and sent off a text, then reached into a cabinet to pull out some credentials, too. "Are you planning on coming back for James here, then? I doubt our boy is going to be going farther than the tower or school for a while."
"That's fine," Craig said, waving his hand. "I'm more concerned about the woman out there with a history of predatory behavior, particularly against young, vulnerable men."
Tony's good humor evaporated in an instant and he handed Craig his new, personalized pass for the tower security. "We'll crush her."
"Good." Craig straightened up, regaining some of his professional composure. "I take personal offense to anyone who uses their license to gain access to people too hurt to understand their tactics."
Tony nodded. "Tell you what. I know a damn good private investigator who would love to dig up everything that Emma Frost has ever done in a less than professional capacity while hiding behind her license to build the case. Give her … oh … a week, tops."
"Good." Craig seemed all at once to return to the good-natured man Tony had briefly seen when he first arrived. "Thank you. I know you don't know me from Adam-"
"Scott vouched for you, and James said you were good," Tony said. "I try to take care of my people."
"So do I." Craig smiled tightly. "Alright. Well. Thank you again. Sorry to interrupt."
"You didn't interrupt a thing," Tony said. "Came to help, right? Hard to find a good place to do that with people that have our kinds of issues."
Craig frowned at Tony, seeing him in a new light when he wasn't single minded in his focus. "If you need help… or your team…"
Tony smiled tightly and answered with a ghost of a laugh in his voice. "I've made it this long just fine, doc. The team knows you're good - if they want help, they know where to find you, but those that would consider it already have therapists."
Craig smiled brightly - and Tony didn't know it, but it was exactly the same look Annie got when she was about to announce something new and fun for her students to try out just to revel in the joy on their faces when they didn't have to take notes. "Wonderful," he said. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, then."
"Woah, wait - I don't … I'm fine," Tony said, both hands up in front of him. "I've done my share of … I've had therapy. I'm set!"
"You're certainly better than some other patients who haven't had a decent therapy session at all before they met me, but no, Mr. Stark, I don't believe you," Craig said, nodding to himself - which was about when Steve cleared his throat, cluing the two of them in to the fact that he'd been there the whole time.
"Nuh- uh, no. No," Tony said, eyebrows raised as he pointed at Steve with one finger. "Back off, spangles. Keep out of it - you have no leg to stand on here."
Steve was smiling crookedly already, though. "Oh, don't worry, Tony. I understand doctor-patient confidentiality. I'll just make sure the Avengers' schedule is clear so you don't miss anything important during that hour block."
"Ha! Maybe if you pencil yourself in for the one right before me," Tony said, trying to get back to reassembling a broken communicator and half grumbling under his breath. "Mr. Man out of time. Still can't wrap his head around a smart phone and he thinks I need help."
Steve smiled wider and turned toward Craig. "So, nine o'clock, you want to teach me how to download an app? You can deal with Tony after that. He agreed to the terms himself."
"Oh, come on," Tony said, looking entirely unamused.
"Who's doing what now?" Jan asked as she, James, and Rachel came in to join them.
"Your husband's going to take an hour with Dr. Hale," Steve said with a grin. "Tomorrow morning. After me." He smiled at the three of them as Jan beamed. "We'll leave it to him when you get another turn, James."
"Okay, not like I'll be anywhere but here on the weekend, anyhow," James said, then turned to Tony. "You want to grab a donut or something with me in the morning?"
"Yes," Tony said, taking up James' empty side. "But now, you and I have some work to do in my lab."
"Alright," James said, then raised one hand at Craig. "Thanks for coming by … you know where to find me, if you want to. But you don't have to."
"I think I do," Craig said even as Tony steered him toward the lab. "We'll set up a regular schedule that works around your college commitments after I talk to your other father figure in the morning."
Steve was still laughing to himself as they headed off, then took a moment to thank Craig properly so as not to send him off after watching the circus.