Author: MagnusXXN
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: BTVS doesn't belong to me, its Joss Wheldon's baby as is Angel. I don't own the X-men, or the concept of mutants, that's Marvel's baby. I just own this story but I don't have any money so sue someone else. I've changed some of the back-story of Buffy, but I'll explain it along the way.
The next day Xander was indeed where Ms. Emma Frost had asked him to go, and wait for someone to pick him up to take him to The Council's quarters.
Of course he wasn't happy with this. Being told to sit and wait to be picked up like a toddler, the deep-rooted part of Eric that resided inside Xander's mind was inflamed at the very idea.
But Ms. Frost didn't trust him anymore then he trusted her, and as she was a member of The Hellfire Club, it wasn't a lot he could do about it.
So there he stood in an old cottage in the woods waiting to be picked up.
He was in full body armor and helmet; if they wanted to fight, then he'd give them one. And he'd make sure he was the only one standing at the end.
As he waited, Xander couldn't help but think about this Council of theirs. Eric hadn't known about the Hellfire Club from first hand experience, no.
He'd just heard rumors, things of that nature. It was supposedly an elite club, for only the most rich and powerful people from all around the world. He'd had no idea there were mutants among them.
This club was supposed to be made up of businessmen, politicians, and rumored a few members of the royal family. But mutants? He'd had no idea.
That is, he hadn't had an idea at the time the suit of armor was finished. And since Ms. Frost had thought he was 'Lord' Magneto, it would seem that Eric had not just learned more about them, but joined.
The teen couldn't help but laugh at the old man's arrogance, to name himself a 'Lord'. He was taking this whole 'King of mutant kind' thing a bit far.
So having no new information, Xander could do nothing but wait and see.
The woods around the cottage were not doing his patience any good either. He half expected an attack from the surrounding woodlands. And he didn't know if it was from Eric's consciousness, or his own.
These woods were well covered, and very little light could get through. It would be a perfect place for an attack from these club members, or even from vampires.
Finally after an hour a jet-black car arrived to take him to this Council of theirs; Ms. Emma Frost sat in the backseat waiting for him to sit down next to her.
"Good to see you again. I hadn't expected you to dress so...formally," She told him with a frown, something that looked strange on her very well proportioned lips.
Lips that didn't look like they did a lot of smiling, but at the same time not a lot of frowning either. He could only guess that she was used to keeping her face neutral, giving away nothing.
Knowing that he got a reaction out of her pleased him, more so then it really should have.
She was right of course; his suit of armor was very formal. As for Emma, she was dressed in a fully white business suit. But one that showed off her very nice curves.
"Sorry, I didn't know there was a dress code." Ms. Frost didn't laugh at his joke, or even smile. But Xander could see the amusement in her eyes. "Well, I'll just have to send you a memo next time," She deadpanned.
The drive to The Hellfire's headquarters was done mostly in silence. Neither he nor Ms. Frost were willing to make ideal chitchat, or fake pleasantries.
But it was a nice silence, a comfortable one. Well, for them at least.
The driver was quit perturbed at the silence, it being his first day driving. And he had not one, but two powerful mutants in his backseat as silent as tombs.
His nerves almost gave out a few times during the drive; he not wanting to disturb either of them and praying that neither one decided to take much notice of him.
The male was the one that put him on edge the most. He being able to carry a quiet menace about him, and he hadn't even so much as looked in the driver's direction.
The woman was beautiful, but no less frightening. He'd heard what she'd done to the last driver she'd had. One who'd been unfortunate enough to spill his drink on her snow-white clothing.
He'd paid by having his mind turned to jelly.
Something the driver, Jarod, would never let happen. He'd be a good little worker and do as he was told, and never, ever, eat or drink in Ms. Frost's presence.
