Emma Grace (white_diamonds) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-05-26 17:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, emma frost (white queen), scott summers (cyclops) |
Who: Scott and Emma
What: A kinda-date that turns sour pretty quickly
When: Saturday
Where: A secluded beach
Rating: R for nudity and very little else
Status: Complete!Thanks to the wonder of his mun bullshitting it Scott had managed to find them a decently secluded beach on a secluded cove. The view was spectacular, in more ways than one. While he hadn’t packed an actual picnic basket, he had brought a cooler with wine and some things to eat. It was a fairly romantic setting.
He figured Emma was going to kill him at some point, and smirked at the thought.
Emma had contemplated canceling their beach get-together for a few days, going back and forth to the point that she actually picked up her phone and dialed his number on Friday night with the intention of telling him she had something better to do. She'd hung up just as quickly, probably before her number had even flashed on his screen.
Ultimately, Emma had decided that Scott Summers wasn't her responsibility. The heartache he earned after having been told she wasn't interested wasn't her problem. A quiet guilt lingered on, but Emma did her best to ignore it.
Her ride to the beach wasn't especially long. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Perfect beach weather. She'd dressed in what could probably be described as inappropriate for anywhere that wasn't a beach - it was woven together loosely, her white bikini easily seen through the fabric. She'd found Scott easily enough, parking her car close to the location he'd given her, and then walking. He was a lone dot in the distance and she'd walked until she was standing in front of his blanket. "Hello," she said, standing before him.
He looked up, eyes roaming up her body until they rested on her face. Yes indeed, the view had improved exponentially. He patted the blanket next to him, giving her a lopsided smirk, "Have a seat, Emma."
Scott was giving no indication that this was anything but some potential fun on the beach. His mind was still mulling over the partial dream he'd had earlier in the week. He hadn't yet had the rest of it, but he'd had that one several times.
He wasn't sure he understood her any better than he had before. Except he was sure of it.
Perhaps too suspicious for her own good, Emma could almost smell that this wasn't something as simple as a little outing for some sex on or near the beach. Quickly, though, she pushed this thought out of her mind and reminded herself that Scott was an adult and didn't belong to her.
Before she got onto the blanket, she stripped off her outer layer of clothes, leaving on only the bikini. It was her intention to sun and swim and possibly get physical with her handsome lover and she was ready to do at least one of those three things immediately.
The world seemed terribly bright and loud from the beach, but in the best possible way. Emma closed her eyes and tried to get used to the scent and the sound of the surf in the distance. "How are you, dear?" she asked when she was comfortable. Her manicured toes were dipped into the sand and the rest of her was on the blanket.
Scott appreciated the view again. Really, it was hard not to and to be completely honest the drive was worth that, even if nothing else happened. Adjusting sunglasses on his face, he leaned back, pillowing his head on his arms.
He figured there was no harm in discussing his early morning adventures, saying conversationally, "I'm pretty good. Got a new job. Nearly ran over a teenager and the men chasing her."
Emma had brought a bag with her. She fished through it until she had sunscreen in her hands. "You what?" Certainly sounding surprised, she rubbed sunscreen into her arms and worked her way along the parts she could reach. "Why were men chasing her?"
"Don't know. She didn't trust police." He took some of the sunscreen, waggling it like he was offering to take care of her back, "She was trying to get to the youth ranch where I work, but she wasn't willing to trust me, either. The men chasing her didn't say much, either. I talked to a girl named Kitty, and we compared our notes."
He sighed, "I've been driving around trying to find her, but no luck."
She offered him her back, shifting so that he could reach her comfortably. "That's... strange." Emma frowned. "What does Kitty have to do with this?" Her slick hands rubbed the lotion into her neck. "And when did you get this job?"
"She ran into the girl too. Same story, men chasing her." She'd also been in one of his dreams, but those were a touchy subject with Emma and he was loathe to ruin the casual mood just yet. He applied lotion to his hands and then firmly rubbed it into her back, "Last week. A marine I know gave me the foot in the door. She's been working there for a few months now."
Ever practical, Emma asked, "Has anyone called the police?" Ever so slightly, she leaned into his touch. He might have been clingy and troublesome, but he had good hands. "What do you do?"
"We both talked to the police about the men, but they've had no leads about the girl." He massaged the oil into her shoulders, then his hands began to go lower in ever increasing circles, "She doesn't trust the police."
Emma's muscles felt a little tense, and he rubbed his thumb at a particularly dense spot, "Working with troubled kids. Most of them would end up in Juvie without a chance like that. Shepard has been teaching boxing and general discipline. I'm going to be working with their brains. Practical applications." He smirked a bit, "Like pool sharking, without the sharking part."
Emma got even closer, enjoying his touch. "Don't skimp," she said, turning her head and glimpsing back at him, "I simply cannot allow my skin to be burnt." Her mood was pleasant without being overly affectionate, trying to find the fun of the situation.
"Sad about the girl," she commented mildly, but in a rather unconcerned sort of way. It was a strange story, but it didn't impact Emma. "Congratulations on the job." She almost smirked, "Did you need experience with children to get the position?"
Scott chuckled, sounding amused and buoyant, "I promise I won't miss a single spot on your glorious skin, Emma."
"Some of my past experiences helped, yes, especially when I was in Indonesia." He pressed his thumbs her lumbar and rubbed them in circles, casually, "Mostly some good words from Shepard." He'd always been fond of that woman, except for her legendary inability to drive. One got into a vehicle with Shepard at the wheel at their own risk.
"What did you do in Indonesia?" Emma asked with a casual curiosity. The sun was beginning to make her feel a little flush, but in the best sort of way possible. She was certain she'd come back home a little darker than she left. Stretching slightly, Emma made a soft sound in the back of her throat when Scott hit a certain spot.
Deciding that spot was best spot, he spent slightly more time than necessary before he moved on, "There were some serious storms there. We came in with food aid, and to help with some of the rebuilding. I spent about two months in a cramped orphanage with kids as young as two and old as sixteen."
Emma's eyes were closed in pleasure. "How very noble," she commented quietly. When she opened her eyes again, she stared out at the sea. It was such a lovely day.
Leaning forward, Scott kissed one of Emma's shoulder blades. It was a lovely day, but it also felt like the mood sat on a razor's edge, ready to tip over at the slightest provocation. She was so closed up that it was frustrating. There was more than this shallow cold exterior she showed the world, and he just couldn't find a chink in the armor.
They sat in silence for a long moment, Emma not really picking up on Scott's frustration. Or perhaps she did and she simply didn't care. She arched her back, not shying away from his mouth, but stretching the muscles he'd been touching. After a moment, she glanced back at him. "You should put some on yourself," she said, inspecting his naked torso. "It'd be a shame for you to burn."
"I'm fond of the color red," He quipped, and started to lather some on himself. It felt like she'd reflected the mood, and despite the quip his eyes darkened ever so slightly. Scott thought on how to approach this next, or to just let things remain light and superficial for the time being.
He wasn't a very superficial man.
"You'll get wrinkled." Emma wasn't so thick that she couldn't feel the subtle change in Scott's manner. She sighed quietly and rolled away from him, getting onto her back and closing her eyes. The ocean was calling her, but she decided against it, patiently waiting for something unpleasant to come.
"You're a frustrating woman," Scott finally said, his voice calm and quiet. "You don't let anyone in. It's very hard for you to be open."
To not be who she's second nature to be.
For a moment, she didn't react. To the point that it seemed she'd either completely missed or ignored what he'd said. But then she moved, turning her head slightly and looking at him with a raised brow. "Yes," Emma agreed. And that was all she said.
She knew she was frustrating and she knew she was distant. Emma didn't mind these features in herself. She almost felt bad for Scott, because he seemed a good man, but change didn't come easily to anyone. Especially not a Frost.
She'd agreed pretty readily, and he'd been expecting that. Ruefully, he said, "It would be easier if people could read minds." No hiding. No secrets. But then exposing your inner self to another human being couldn't be easy.
"It's a shame to let that ocean go to waste."
"But they don't," Emma said easily. She didn't place much weight on the dreams, not on the powers or the connections she had in them. To give them too much thought made them important and Emma didn't want to do that.
"Go for a swim then." She was smiling as she spoke.
Scott chuckled, and got to his feet. As he did so, his fingers clasped around the tie of her bikini top, tugging it loose as he did so. Without a word he strolled towards the water.
A hand flew to her chest, but dropped once she realized what had happened to her bikini. "Where are your manners, Mr. Summers?" Emma asked after him, unperturbed by the removal of her top. There wasn't anyone around, and even if there were, she took a pride in her body that bordered on narcissism.
She hesitated for a moment, adding suntan lotion to her front, and then rose to her feet. There was a playful look in her eye.
Scott laughed, without turning to look at her, "I don't know what you're talking about, Ms. Frost." He'd known it wouldn't have upset her. Maybe if he got her to enjoy herself for enjoyment's sake she might be more willing to open up.
If he didn't snap at her first. He might need the enjoyment just as much, if not more. This whole thing was getting to him more than he thought.
She walked behind him, a certain cockiness in her step. She only really halted when she'd reached the water. Gracious enough that she didn't hop back, Emma only inhaled deeply and stopped in her tracks. "It's cold," she said, mild amusement on her face. She'd have to take it slow.
"I wouldn't think you'd be afraid of a little cold, Emma." Scott waded deeper into the water, then dove into the surf, disappearing. He was a strong swimmer, and when he emerged he was several dozen yards away.
He was underneath a wave before she could get out a sarcastic comment, but that was probably for the best. She watched for him and smiled when he emerged, but didn't think to join him right away. He might have been okay with the cold, but she wasn't quite so used to diving right in. Emma took slow steps into the water, letting it splash up her leg. When she was waist deep, she was accustomed enough to the temperature that she didn't need to hesitate. Still, she did, watching Scott in the distance and letting herself be moved by the waves.
He treaded water, watching her for several long moments before swimming closer to shore. It was a wonderful view, Emma in the waves. He was realizing some things, and with or without the dreams he wanted more from her. Scott knew it was something Emma wasn't ready or willing to give.
She broke the distance that was left between the two of them, half walking and half swimming over to meet him. By the time she was near him, she found herself in water that was deep enough that she could just barely reach the bottom of the ocean floor with her toes if she stretched.
She got close enough to him that she rested her hands on his shoulders and planted a kiss on his lips. When they broke apart, she flipped her wet hair out of her face.
Scott grinned against her kiss, rubbing his hands up her sides and then down to her hips, "Took you long enough, I thought you were going to leave me alone out here."
In hindsight, he wasn't going to enjoy the part where he got out of the water and got that post swim cold water chill.
"It was cold," Emma said, as though that were enough of an explanation. She hoped he wouldn't take every move she made as though it had hidden intention, but she couldn't really blame him for doing so. She did that very thing.
“I was making a joke, Emma." He smirked at her, "Hard to believe sometimes, I know."
That got a small laugh out of Emma. "Just full of surprises, aren't you?" The waves were making them bob up and down. Her hands went around his neck to keep him close and keep herself steady.
Scott kissed her again, before his mouth sabotaged the afternoon. He knew he couldn't keep this up for too much longer. He wanted her too much, didn't want to cut the strings and call it an end.
As Stark as said, he was effectively fucked.
When they broke apart, Emma saw the barest sort of shadow darken his features. She looked at him for a long moment, perhaps long enough to make him uncomfortable, trying to read him. Together, they floated through a wave. "You realize you take things too seriously, don't you?" She asked him, not entirely without kindness. "You could have fun with me right now and not worry about anything." Her fingers brushed against the back of his neck. "What's the use of worrying?"
What was there that he could tell her? I know you love me in our dreams but that just sounded outright pathetic. Scott didn't shy away from her gaze, "There's a lot to worry about, and life isn't always about fun. Sometimes the hardest things are the most worthwhile."
"And sometimes the things we strive for fail us," Emma said, her face a frustratingly cool mask. She wasn't really upset by this conversation, though deep down she felt a familiar guilt makes its way to the pit of her stomach.
She looked at him, her blue eyes boring into his brown. "And sometimes, it's just better to not over think every little thing."
"No, it's best not to over think every little thing," Scott agreed. He didn't need to overthink it to know if they got sand in fun places he wasn't going to be able to keep emotions out of it. He didn't want her to feel guilty over something she couldn't control.
Topless and rolling along with the waves in Scott's arms, Emma simply sighed. She hadn't taken her eyes off of his. It was fairly obvious that she wasn't entirely happy with what was going on between them. She wasn't angry or upset. What she mostly felt was sadness by how difficult he was and guilt. This came and went quickly enough, though.
"So what am I to do with you?" She asked him, almost earnest, as she slowly disentangled herself from him.
Scott was getting a sense of sadness or discontent, and a desire to alleviate that feeling overwrote his frustration from earlier.
"I don't know, do you have any ideas?" His fingers slid down her back, then along her arms, "I'm open to suggestions."
Emma knew there were only two paths. She could either stay or leave, sacrifice his feelings or indulge in her greed. A naturally selfish person, she kept this to herself because when confronted with the options, she wasn't sure what Scott would say and she much rather would avoid the drama and save it for another time. "I don't know," she said, shrugging her shoulders.
He was inclined to let her indulge in her selfish side a lot of the time. Was this one of those times? Ruin a nice day on a secluded beach with a beautiful woman? Scott stroked his fingers down Emma's cheeks, and made the decision for her. He slipped past her, swimming towards the shore.
Confusion flashed on her face for a fraction of a second before Emma really understood what he'd done. She turned to look at him swim away, opening her mouth to speak, but shutting it before anything came out. She felt a number of nasty emotions bubble up inside her. Emma wasn't used to rejection in the least, but this certainly felt akin to that. Anger flared, but something worse lingered underneath. She almost felt hurt and that meant that she cared and Emma couldn't think of something worse.
While he headed toward the sand, she pushed herself further out into the sea, diving under a wave and kicking hard. She swam to think, to clear her head, and to burn off the worst of her emotions, not stopping until her muscles started to ache. She'd swam for far longer than necessary, half hoping he'd be gone by the time she reached the shore again. She disliked the idea of walking back to him, finding it lacking in dignity.
Still in the water, she was slow to make her way out. She kept Scott at a distance physically while preparing herself to do the same mentally and emotionally. More than anything, she felt foolish. This, she thought to herself, was why relationships of any sort were a waste of time.
Scott had sat on the blanket, watching her swim. She swam for a very long time, long enough for him to worry if she'd tired herself out. He didn't start preparing to leave until he saw her returning. Scott hadn't wanted to risk her swimming so far out without someone nearby in case a riptide pulled her away.
He didn't push her away because he cared. He did because he cared too much. He left the cooler with the wine for her, and started heading back to his car.
It was with mild embarrassment that Emma watched him go, settling on the blanket and giving him her back. She sat for a moment, letting exhaustion overwhelm her. It had been stupid to push her body so far, but Emma wasn't one to make the smartest choices when filled with spite.
Anger and disappointment clashed within her and she glared at the wine as if it were the enemy. She poured the liquid onto the sand because her pride was too wounded for her to do otherwise. "To hell with him," she muttered quietly to the desolate beach. She would have thrown the bottle if she hadn't been raised to not act in such a childish manner.
With the bottle empty, Emma stretched out on the blanket. Anyone who might have observed her from a distance wouldn't be able to see a shred of emotion on her face. She was blank on the outside and that was, she reminded herself, quite how she liked it.