Disclaimer: Yep, Marvel still own the X-Men, dammit.
When Logan reached the garden where the helicopter had landed, she was just stepping out.
Emma Frost, socialite, sociopath, business woman, and self-proclaimed White Queen of the Hellfire Club, stepped daintily down as the helicopter blades slowed and came to a stop. From the serenity on her face, you would have been forgiven for thinking she was just 'dropping in' on an old school chum.
Bitch.
The X-Men had gathered, curious, behind him; Kurt was also present. He growled. So far, he'd managed to keep the boy away from Frost and her cronies, and his dealings with them. He'd rather keep it that way.
She strode up to him, showing no fear, and he met her with a smile, a nod, and a fist to the stomach.
Didn't do her any harm, of course; she'd been expecting it, and now gleamed with the layer of diamond that had protected her from his anger many, many times. He popped his claws, anyway, just to drive the point home.
"Really, Wolverine; there's no reason for that sort of behavior."
He laughed. "Anything that keeps ya outta my head, darling; there's reason for it."
That comment was acknowledged with a slight nod; one point to him.
"What ta hell are ya doing here, Frost?"
"I'm not allowed to drop in on old friends?"
"Last time I checked, darling, we weren't friends."
Emma laughed. "I remember us getting particularly… friendly… upon occasion, Logan."
He raised an eyebrow. "You like to act like a lady, but you fuck like a whore, darling." he said quietly. "Only difference was, I didn't have to pay you."
"Yes, as I recall, you were the one getting paid." she returned.
The force of his blow toppled her over, although she would have felt no pain; the bruising on his knuckles was fading already. Not particularly helpful, no, but satisfying.
"Don't ever think you can buy me, Frost." he said coldly. "Your little pet Sebastian – how is he, by the way? – paid me for a job. You," his eyes raked over her body. "were just a perk."
"And now I have another job for you."
"Forget it, Frost." he said, turning his back on her. "Not interested"
He hadn't really expected her to just turn around and walk back to her helicopter and her dark-suited, discreet and utterly useless security guards.
"You're not even going to introduce me to your friends?"
Logan could almost feel her smirk through his back.
"Now you," she said, walking up to Kurt. "Must be Kurt Wagner, am I correct?"
Point to her.
"Ja." Kurt replied, holding out a hand. "That would be me."
"Such lovely manners," Emma said, smiling viciously at Logan. "I can't imagine where he learnt those from; certainly not from you, Logan."
She took the offered hand, and there was a *bamf*.
They re-appeared over the nearby swimming pool; Kurt let go, and a disoriented Ms Frost tumbled down, Wagner re-appearing by Logan's side.
The boy had teleported him a couple times, and Wolverine remembered it as an altogether unpleasant experience. It came as no surprise to him at all, that Frost had lost control of her diamond form when she'd so sharply re-emerged into this world; thus, when she pulled herself out of the pool, she was absolutely, utterly, soaking wet.
"Good one, Gwi's." he said quietly, his voice, he was quite sure, barely audible over Frost's shrieking. To the enraged woman he said. "I think your helicopter's waiting, Frost."
"Don't even begin to think this is over!" she screeched, but disappeared into the helicopter anyway, the dark-suited chimps following her.
Logan growled again, low in his throat. He was feeling the sudden urge to do something he hadn't since he'd come to the mansion.
A hand tapped his arm. "I'll mark the days, keep this lot out of your hair."
He nodded at Kurt, and took off, in the general direction of the woods.
Time to hunt.
"It is going to rain."
That was all Storm said before adjourning, Kitten following, to her new room in their new hideaway. Rogue and Mystique exchanged a look. So she was in that kinda mood.
Making a mental note not to make any sudden movements in Storm's direction in the near future, Mystique took a crowbar to one of the recently delivered crates. Rogue peered over her shoulder, as she liberated the first item from the packaging.
She ran a finger along the barrel of the gun, smiling to herself. Rogue pulled out it's twin, and the box of ammo, from the remainder of the packing.
Mystique watched her daughter take aim at an imaginary foe, holding the weapon well. She had taught her protégé in the use of most of the weapons Raven found useful; mostly blades and guns – the later being her personal favourite.
"Ah don't know, Momma. Ah kinda prefer the 'hands-on' approach." Rogue said, wiggling her fingers in her foster-mothers direction.
Mystique snorted. "You have no appreciation for the classics, Rogue." She retrieved the second weapon, laying it next to the first. Rogue ripped the lid off the next crate – without the need for a crowbar.
Mystique quickly examined the contents of this crate – detonators, fuses, explosives, timers – nodding to herself. Rogue was rummaging through the further cartons.
"Put that down!"
"Aw, Momma…" Rogue grinned at her from one end of a rocket launcher.
Shaking her head, Mystique suddenly realized that she had not seen a certain telepath since last night. "Where's Betsey?"
"How should Ah know?"
Mystique's lip curled. Storm in one of her more difficult moods, Psylocke gone AWOL, and Rogue… well, just being Rogue. She felt a headache coming on.
"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"
"It's just Psylocke, Momma." Rogue put down the rocket launcher, and started digging through the crates in search of more 'toys'. "How much trouble could she get up ta?"
"Hello there." said the purple-skinned man as the woman stalked in through the door – well, as easy as it is to stalk with a broken leg. A wad of cash landed on his desk.
"My leg's broken. Heal it."
"Well now, aren't we all business?" He scratched his head, loosening a patch of scaly skin and examining it, before tossing it in the wastebasket. "No, 'how are you, Julian'. 'Oh, all right, same old, same old, shedding a little, that kind of thing'"
"Just heal it."
Something in her tone of voice made him decide not to argue. "Oh, all right. This," and he laid his hands on her leg; there was a scream from his customer. "Is going to hurt like a bitch." he finished.
The woman efficiently removed her cast with some kind of knife that disappeared when she was done with it. Julian pocketed the cash with equal efficiency.
The discarded cast now lying on the floor, the woman stalked out, this time much more gracefully.
"Nice to see you too." muttered Julian, examining the bundle of notes he'd been given. "Come again anytime."
Scott sat away from the rest of the group, who were gathered round the swimming pool. Wearing his new (Kitty-approved), clothes, and his visor (Hank had made him some sunglasses but wearing something so loose made him uncomfortable), he was sketching; mostly Kitty – she had made a few abortive attempts to draw him into the group, then given up, although she still glanced over at him occasionally.
He smiled to himself, watching Kitty and Kurt gang up on Hank, who ended up in the pool. He started to draw a soaking wet Hank, concentrating, he only half heard Jubilee's shrieks as Hank shook himself off, showering a number of people with water.
He barely had time to feel Betsey's shadow looming across his back before she hit him, hard. He cringed as her blow hit a still-healing spot at the back of his neck, automatically curling up into a ball.
"You still belong to me, Puppy," she hissed, kicking him in the small of the back. "Who else would want you?"
"I want him, so back off."
Daring to peek out a little, Scott saw Kitty had come over, standing hands on hips; the others stood behind her. The Professors were at some sort of a conference; Jean and Remy were still in the med-lab; Wolverine was off somewhere in the woods, but the assembled children still held between them significant firepower.
Something nasty might have happened, if the form of Rogue had not come sweeping down from the skies, picking up Betsey bodily and carrying her away.
Amid Psylockes furious screams could be heard the call of "Scream all ya like, Sugah, Ah just saved ya ass from a serious kicking!"
Kitty ran to Scott's side. "Are you alright?"
He nodded, weakly, thoughts rushing through his head.
Hank lifted him easily, carting him off to the med-lab, while Kitty rushed along besides; his body was aching, but he smiled, his mind at peace.
He belonged to Kitty now.
That was all he needed to know.
A/N: Review, pretty please! I didn't get the Kurt bit in this chapter, it will happen in the next. Along with which Betsey throws a fit and Jean does something really, really, stupid.