AN: Okay, not so much a plot forwarding chapter, but just something I wanted to try.  The characters get a little more introspective about what they're planning on doing, and we find out a little more about what happened after Emma got dropped off, as well as a little bit about what's going on in the X-Mansion.  A pretty useless chapter, but I like it.

I won't let it show --
I'm all about denial --
But can't denial let me believe?
That we could talk about it
But we can't talk about it

Because nobody knows
That's how I nearly fell
Trading clothes
And ringing Pavlov's bell
History shows -- but rarely shows it well
Well, well, well…

-Aimee Mann, "Pavlov's Bell"

            Rogue was sitting at an oak table that looked like it weighed as much as a Buick, covered in an organza embroidered tablecloth.  There was a silver Russian tea service set on the table, and pale tea cups of fine, translucent pale china.  The whole room was pale and bright, like a photo taken in just a little too much sunlight.  The window was partly open, and clean, fresh air blew in, billowing the lace curtains.  Rogue saw that she was dressed in a dusty violet dress and black corset, black gloves up well past her elbows, like the heroine out of a Victorian horror novel. 

            "Sorry I'm late," a voice came from behind her.  "I had a few things to take care of in my superego."

            "Emma?" Rogue said, turning around. 

            "In the flesh.  Well, not really," Emma said, looking down at herself.  She was dressed in the same style as Rogue, all in white, a Victorian era silk tuxedo and a frothy white blouse.  She, like the room, was a pale vision, with her sunlight blonde hair and her pale blue eyes.  She sat across from Rogue, pouring steaming tea into Rogue's cup and handing it to her.

            "Where are we?"  Rogue asked.

            "Your mind.  I hope you'll forgive me, I altered things just a bit, let some light in, that sort of thing."

            "Um… sure."

            "In any case," Emma said, stirring her tea.  "I just dropped by for a visit, and to discuss a few things with you."

            She sipped her tea pensively and sighed.

            "Much as I am loathe to admit it, your friend Todd was not wrong.  When I called home, my darling sister Adrienne delighted in telling me that our parents knew everything and wanted nothing more to do with me.  Apparently dear Adrienne had sorted out my little secret and was in fact the one who called some government lackey, who eventually got back to Wraith."

            "I'm so sorry," Rogue said, thinking Emma looked awfully calm.

            "While I was initially distressed to find myself so unceremoniously disowned, the situation was quickly remedied as I persuaded dear Adrienne to wire me every penny in her overstuffed bank account."

            "How'd you do that?" Rogue asked.  Emma shot her a withering glance.

            "Don't be thick.  I made her want to.  I can do that."

            "She didn't need that money?"

            Emma's look went from withering to wry.

            "Only to support her cocaine addiction, dear.  Don't worry, I'm not stealing food from the mouths of babes, Rogue.  But I was curious about your organization, now that I appear to be somewhat without country at the moment."

            "Well, Pietro's in charge, and Magneto's-"

            "Oh no, dear.  I've seen how you lot in the Brotherhood live, and without some extensive work from a contractor and some serious lessons in etiquette, I'm afraid it's just not for me.  I was referring to the X-Men.  Those seem like accommodations I could live with.  Drink your tea, darling, it's going to get cold."

            Rogue reached out and put cream and sugar in her tea, and took a sip.  It tasted like exotic flowers, like no tea Rogue had ever tasted. 

            "Can't you just pick everything I know and felt about the X-Men straight out of my head?"  Rogue asked.  "No offense meant, the tea party is really nice, but it just seems like a lotta trouble to go through…"

            Emma smiled merrily and kicked up one of her feet.

            "Caught.  Oh well.  I can, and I have, perused your memories of the Xavier Institute.  The truth of the matter is I haven't had a conversation in many a day.  Todd seemed to dislike me, Colossus seemed to stoic, Pyro too psychotic, Sabertooth likewise, Scarlet Witch and Magneto were unconscious, Gambit loathsome, and your boyfriend… troubled.  You seemed like my best bet for a rational and interesting discussion."

            "Thanks."

            "I can let you sleep, if you like," Emma said, sipping demurely. 

            "That's okay, I don't mind hanging out.  This is actually really cool."

            Emma smiled. 

            "I'm glad you think so.  Just my little way of playing pretend.  So what is the story with you and the boss's son?  Love at first sight, opposites attract?"

            "He kept squatting in my brain by touching my skin until I fell for him, building up an immunity to my powers at the same time.  Hey, you know Magneto's looking for you, right?"  Rogue said, drinking down the rest of her tea and pouring herself another cup.  Emma picked up a small cookie and took a bite.

            "I am aware, yes."

            Rogue leaned forward, putting down her teacup.

            "It's a big deal, Emma," she said.  "He's dangerous and crazy."

            "Is that why you and the twins are planning to kill him?"

            Rogue turned pale.

            "Oh god…"

            Emma laughed.

            "Do I need to imagine some smelling salts?  Don't fret dear, your secret is safe with me."

            "You have to get out of Boston," Rogue said.  "The Xavier Institute isn't a bad idea, you'd be safer there than anywhere else."

            "If your memory serves, some people have broken in with no trouble at all," Emma replied.  "But I suppose you're right.  Off to the up with people camp I go, I suppose."

            There was a long pause of silence in which they both quietly sipping their tea.  Emma broke in with,

            "So tell me… exactly how attached is Mister Summers to the red-head?"

            Emma and Rogue continued to stay in touch with nightly tea-parties in Rogue's mind.  There was no sign of Magneto, so aside from the most basic of exercises, there was little to do.  Pietro and Rogue endeavored to spend more time with Wanda, and Pietro decreed that on weekdays, they would all eat dinner together.  It wasn't always civil or pleasant, but more often than not, it was fun.

            Then one night at dinner, Todd brought up an interesting point.

            "Hey, I been thinking…"

            Freddy put on a wash of mock concern.

            "Oh god no!  Did you sprain something?"

            Lance hucked a wadded up napkin at Freddy, but Todd himself did not retaliate.

            "Seriously," he said, looking slightly troubled.  "If we kill you-know-who, and sweetums, I'm not saying we shouldn't!" he exclaimed before Wanda could use her powers to cause his peas to turn into an army of tiny Mongol warriors who would attack him with catapults made from silverware, loaded with mashed potatoes.  "But if we kill Mister the Man, what happens after that?"

            "Well, we…" Pietro started, then trailed off.

            "See, that's what I mean.  Let's say we manage to off his highness by next Thursday.  Whaddawe do after that?  Do we just go join the X-Men, or track down Mystique next?  Hell, I wouldn't mind knocking off a few of my former foster parents.  I just wanna know if there's a plan that comes after the plan."

            Rogue, Wanda and Pietro looked at each other, until finally Wanda spoke up.

            "Not really, Todd.  I guess we didn't think it out that far."

            "Oh.  I mean, that's okay too, you know…" Todd said, moving his peas around on his plate.  Everyone sat in silence for the rest of the meal. 

            That night, Rogue found herself in a different room, lying on a big leather couch on her back.  Emma sat in a chair next to her, wearing a white suit, with a leather-bound notebook in her hands and silver glasses perched on her nose.

            "You really liked playing dress up when you were little, didn't you?" Rogue asked. 

            "Ah ah, I'll be asking the questions.  Tell me about your mother."

            Rogue lay back and relaxed. 

            "Don't you know everything I have to say already?"

            "That's not the way therapy works.  I don't tell you answers, I ask the right questions and make you realize things about yourself.  So tell me about your damned mother."

            "Which one?" Rogue asked.  Emma arched an eyebrow. 

            "I'm intrigued already.  Whichever you prefer."

            "I don't know who my birth mother was.  Mystique says she adopted me, but I know she's lyin'.  I'm not really sure why she says that though."

            "Do you want her to be your biological mother?"

            "Hell no," Rogue responded instinctively, but then paused.  "I don't know.  I guess I kinda do."

            "No, then yes.  Which is it?" Emma asked.

            "I wish she wasn't part of my life.  But since she's my mother, I know Kurt is my brother.  And I guess I'd rather have her for a mother than have no family at all."

            "What is Mystique like?"

            "She's manipulative, and she lies to me all the time.  She's a shape shifter.  She can look like anyone.  She's been the principal of the school, she's been Professor Xavier, she's been all kinds of people.  She's the best liar there is."

            "But with one touch, the truth just pops into your head."

            "Yeah.  I don't really know why she bothers."

            "Perhaps she wants something better for you than the truth.  Tell me about your other mother."

            "Irene Adler.  Mystique and Irene lived together, with me, till I was about thirteen.  Then Mystique left one day and never came home."

            "Were they a couple?"

            "I have no idea," Rogue sighed.  "Maybe.  After Mystique left, Irene seemed really lonely, and I missed her too.  Right around then, Irene stopped touching me.  She'd hug me, but that was it.  It was… weird.  She said I'd developed a skin condition that could be passed on by touch."

            "You missed physical contact?"

            "I really did.  There's just something about it.  I hadn't been able to safely touch anyone at all for three years.  Then Pietro built up a resistance."

            "Did you have a father figure in your life?"

            "Not till I was with the X-Men, the Professor, Doctor McCoy, I don't know if I'd call 'em father figures, but male authority figures, at any rate.  Logan was the only one who ever got really over-protective.  Tried to kill Pietro a couple of times.  That's about as paternal as anyone's ever been to me."

            Rogue looked up to see Emma trying to stifle some giggles.

            "What?  What?"  Rogue asked.

            "Nothing, just um… Freudian humor.  Please, continue."

            "But then Mystique came back, and I was living with Lance, Pietro, Freddy and Todd, so I sorta O.D.ed on brothers."

            "What about Scott Summers?"

            Rogue snorted.

            "Joined at the hip with Jean.  I embarrassed myself more than once trying to get that boy's attention."

            "Hm… the oblivious type.  You don't happen to know his favorite fragrance?"

            Rogue turned sideways on the couch.

            "You like Scott?" she said.  "I mean, like like him?"

            Emma looked down at Rogue over her glasses.

            "This isn't middle school, Rogue.  I don't like like him, I lust after him.  He's got nice features and he's just so reserved that I want to break him into little bits and eat him up."

            "Well, if you wanna go there, best of luck," Rogue said.

            "I don't need luck, darling, every boy there is still picturing me nude, except of course for Logan and Xavier, though I'm sure the Professor is too, but he's got all these clever mental shields in place."

            "Ew.  How's Jean taking you being there?"

            "If you're going to ask the tough questions, then you'll need the glasses, the clipboard and the smaller chair," Emma said, handing the first two over and standing up.  She and Rogue switched places, Rogue put on the glasses and sat down.

            "Oh, silver is not a good color for you," Emma said.  Rogue picked the glasses off her nose and snorted.

            "Don't tell Pietro that."  The glasses frames in her hand turned black, and she put them back on. 

            "Okay.  Now my first question:  What the hell did you mean when you said 'Freudian joke'?"

            "Oh, I was hoping for therapy!" Emma pouted.

            "I'll psychoanalyze the hell outta you as soon as you answer the question."

            "Okay… you said Logan nearly killed Pietro a couple times because he was being paternal."

            "Well yeah."

            "That isn't why he tried to kill Pietro, Rogue," Emma said. 

            "Well… why then?"

            "How can I put this delicately… Logan's feelings for you are far, far from paternal."

            "Well yeah, now he hates me," Rogue said.  Emma put her head in her hands and sighed, looking at Rogue and shaking her head.

            "My poor, sweet naïve Rogue.  Your dear Mister Logan has a bigger crush on you than you ever had on Mister Summers."

            Rogue dropped the clipboard.

            "You're insane."

            "Rogue sweetie, there are more skeletons in the X-Men's closet than you've even begun to imagine," Emma said.

AN2: I think I've lost my mind, but that's what fell out of my fingers today.  Kisses and hugs, thanks to everyone who's reviewed, Pootato, I just plain blushed when I read what you said, and said aw shucks.  So thanks all, more story as soon as it falls out.