In the same fashion as Logan, Emma had returned to the mansion. Her white limo pulled into sight, tires softly crunching against the pavers that made up the circular drive as it drew Ms. Frost closer to home. The car was pristine and glimmered beneath the moon light of the crisp winter evening. Inside she ho-hummed softly adjusting herself on the leather seat and regretting her life as a teacher that brought her home so early. She could have easily stayed out until dawn, hob-nobbing with the famous and the elite. She waited a few more moments, once the car came to a stop, pouring herself another flute of champagne. Drawing the glass to her lips she sipped the golden liquid, letting the flavors culminate on her tongue. Balancing her luxurious lifestyle with her X-Men duties was worth the effort in her mind. (And it definitely helped to be rich and powerful, too!) Emma found much pleasure in the harmony between work and play.
Gathering her fur stole in her arms, she gave it a flip over her bare shoulder, before exiting the automobile. In one hand she held the the delicate flute by the stem, from her wrist dangled a small clutch and in the other, lifted the hem of her gown from dragging along the ground. Emma turned and shut the door with a thud before turning and approaching the front door. Her dainty Versace heels clicked against the pavement as she closed the distance. Releasing her gown from her hand, the white material fell free, as Emma then opened the clutch with a snap and searched around for a key.