A.N.: Penelop C.E. Reed- thank you so much for your encouraging and flattering review! Hope you enjoy these next 2 chappies :D

I got re inspired to write this one shot on whim, but then decided I have too many open ended one shots I start and mean to finish but never do because I keep starting new stories everytime I get inspired. SO since most of my stories have somewhat similar plotlines, i decided to incorporate this one into the second chapter. Enjoy and please review!

Chapter II

Seriously?

A knuckle kneaded into the sturdy chin of a very serious-looking brown haired boy. Of course, one who knew Scott Summers would think he was probably just deep in thought or being serious as he always is, but that was the illusion of the ruby red sunglasses that masked his handsome face.

If one were telepathic however, like the thin long-legged girl with platinum hair sitting adjacent to him in the quiet dustiness that was the Xavier Institute's study room, they would have been able to read into his mind and find that he was far from being thoughtful and grim at the moment, with his chin propped on his fist. They would be able to sense that he was actually being quite more absent-minded than usual, with fleeting wistful thoughts and content silent observation all concentrated on the only one who could really read his thoughts at that moment if they wanted to.

As it is though, this girl, with a pair of rectangular glasses sliding down her straight and perfect nose, leaning head first into a novel, was quite uncharacteristically absent-minded as well on this fine afternoon. It was a rare moment, captured quietly in the studying lounge, a rare moment where two of the most stereo-typed and less-favorable and mirthless students irrelevant to each other of the institute were at peace and content in the drowsy moment, both absorbed in something of interest. In her case, an enchanting book she had cherished since childhood, "Atlas Shrugged." Something about the neo-classic cold heroine with a penchant for equally powerfully fierce and cold men intrigued the secret hopeless romantic in the glacial girl. As well as the superb story, intricate and insightful plot, and philosophy.

For him, his object of interest was simply the work of art that was a beautiful girl he was beginning to admire, reading in front of him, oblivious to the world around her.

Scott had toyed with the idea of swinging by the lounge lazily at hourly intervals, hoping he could catch the secretive Emma Frost having one of her many private times in the usually vacant area.

To her dismay, she was not the only occupant, and this growing realization was becoming more apparent as she became more aware of another person in her vicinity, her quiet space, and so she shut off her telepathy to avoid catching the usual snide remarks people thought of her, especially if they saw that she was reading. She knew how they felt about her and how she seemed to them, and intellect was not one of them.

The blonde finally sensed that there were eyes watching her, and unable to shake off the irritation of having been slightly disturbed from her dive into a good afternoon read, she thumbed her page and stared up pointedly at the intruder of her calm.

Silvery blonde hair twisted loosely into a messy bun at the top of the nape of her neck, sparkled momentarily as her head changed angles and hit the sun beams penetrating the stained glass window above her.

To her surprise, and not altogether as unpleasant as it would have been had her intruder been any other student she had expected, the somber Scott Summers was sitting in the arm chair across from hers, and well...just sitting.

Despite the fact that she was a very shrewd telepathic girl, her own girlish oblivion and the ruby glasses that hid and added much of the mystery to Scott Summers, she did not even guess that he was staring at her, enraptured, and the eyes she had sensed had been on her for quite a long amount of time before she was even aware.

Not one to show her surprise or even mere delight, the girl spoke demurely, "Oh, Scott, I didn't even notice anyone walking in! How long have you just been sitting there?"

Having been addressed, the boy seemed to break out of his stupor and jolted in a more upright position and regained his usual excellent posture. The book he had opened and flopped face down on his lap, forgotten, was back in front of his nose and he lifted a brow, "Oh hello Emma! Er, I'm sorry if I bothered you, I know you value being alone... I just er, came in because...I was looking...for a..." The boy pushed his red glasses back up his sun burnt nose, his eyebrows shot upwards in a baffled expression, and he glanced quickly at the object in his hands, and then finished with a smile, "book!"

The blonde girl across from him quirked an eyebrow and shrugged slowly, "I see. Well, no bother at all, this is a public domain after all, and your company isn't really half as much a bother as the others'."

The boy grinned to the side and his perpetual sun burnt and pink tinged cheeks and nose flushed even deeper, spreading underneath his brown tan.

"Really now?" He stopped himself and grunted in a revised, lower voice, "I mean, oh really. Well, that's good to know. Er, I'll let you get back to your reading. Don't mind me, I was enjoying watching you read, you looked so...um! I mean- I was enjoying reading my...book."

An uncomfortable squishing sound accompanied Scott as he sank lower into the chair, covering his face with the book now, one hand slapped to his forehead, and ruffling his brown hair.

A hint of curiosity now and aroused interest in the quiet and shy somewhat lonesome boy she sometimes ran into in the corridor due to his clumsiness, provoked the latch of Emma's willpower to open and let thoughts in.

She could hear Scott's thoughts muttering to himself, "Wow. . Classic Scott-move..."

She frowned slightly, he was feeling foolish and she could not really fathom why. She dared not probe deeper though...or should she? She decided she didn't really care enough and left the strange boy's thoughts alone and attempted to get back into her book.

It had taken a few months, but after the X-Men's leader had been abducted, submitted to torture from anti-mutant scientists, and mostly under the hand of Emma Frost, the initial clamor had faded into a veil of surface judgement and reputation around her.

Now, Emma, who was involuntarily but somewhat willing to attend the institute and pay her dues for her misdeeds and such, you know reformed villain and all, was on a mutually cold basis with the other students, merely ignoring them or not participating in conversation with them. This caused people to be uneasy around her, she was seen as unfriendly, but to herself, she was just being herself and none of these mutants were worth her time anyway, and she was just here for one thing, well a couple, but her father set her out for one thing.

Her beauty alienated her, and she alienated others, not caring to socialize at all.

She had quickly become bored with the futile sport of teasing Jean Grey and trying to flirt with a clueless Scott. Eventually, her flirtatious nature died down and she quickly detached herself from everyone, and Scott who was as elusive and oblivious as ever.

Finally, with growing irritation, she snapped her book down on her lap and looked up again, "What are you staring at?" she asked quite sharply.

Scott who had forgotten himself in that short lapse of time, jumped up again and picked his book back up, "Uh, s-sorry just, zoned out."

She was getting infuriated now and she didn't know why. It had grown from the time she had realized his presence, and maybe it was because she had kept so calm and distant, but some anger triggered in her, and was channeled to the boy who had been annoyingly staring at her while she was trying to focus on her book.

It was unreasonable, she knew, to be this angry, especially since he didn't know she could sense him, but it frustrated her nonetheless and in a fit, she tossed her book down to the carpeted floor and grumbled, "Well, now I lost my page and I can't get back in the zone. Why don't you go wipe your car down or pick some flowers for Jean Grey and let the people who want to read or study in peace in a designated study area be?" Which was unreasonable to say too because she knew no one else was in there or would venture to spend time in the studying lounge while she was in it especially. And most people used it as a make out room or study-cramming room anyway on the rare occasions it was inhabited.

She stared at him with a hatred and look that said she was blaming him for all of her anxiety and problems right now.

He stuttered, "I'm sorry! I-I shouldn't have come here, I got too distracted anyway."

He stood up, book in hand, "I'll-I'll just go then. Does her majesty own anywhere else us common people should know not to go? Like my room? Or the kitchen? I hope you're not allergic to me..or guys. I hear Mucinex doesn't quite compare to coke."

Her pink lips twitched irrepressibly into a snarl like grimace and the one graceful hand that she had rested on the arm of her chair, had crystallized in the afternoon sunlight and was clawed up, trailed by five straight lines that had dug into the furniture.

The boy bounded out of the study area and was followed by "Atlas Shrugged" which flew out of Emma's normal hand and hit the door post right where his head had been.

"Careful of what you dream tonight, Summers!", Emma called out to his retreating back. She slumped back in her seat, and angrily picked at a nail.

All plans of reading the afternoon away and returning to her favorite book disappeared and the seething ice queen tried to rub the nail scratches out of the plush velvet arm chair, with no avail. She hardly felt anything for anyone, even hate, which did come about once in a while, and right now she hated Summers' guts.

A.N.:don't forget to review!