InsaneJournal

Who: Emma Frost and Jean Grey
What: Shopping. Mistletoe
When: During the mistletoe plot!
where: out and about
Status: complete
Rating: PG-13



Orange County was stranger than expected. Between telepathically created snowmen (and aliens calling themselves Doctors), an elf that tried to perform unlicensed dentistry on her and her powers kicking in, Jean had seen more ‘weird’ in three months than she had in her life.

Doing something normal like shopping with Emma was a welcome diversion. Just being normal around Emma was a welcome diversion. Just in case, though, she tried to reinforce her psychic shields to prevent any leakage in or out, but her powers weren’t exactly all that controllable yet so she hoped it would be somewhat successful.

“So where are we going?” She settled into the passenger seat, her hand brushing Emma’s knee not entirely on accident.

“There’s a boutique just down the road actually, I adore it. They’ve shipped in a winter line for the new weather.”

Yes, the OC was strange, between abnormal dreams and the things roaming around now (Emma had been pelted by a snowball from a snowman and proceeded to throw her own snowball at said snowman -strange afternoon really) it definitely merited the ‘retail therapy’ approach. “How’re you holding up? Headaches lessened?”

Since Emma was acquiring her own debilitating migraines, to go along with the insanity of her dreams, she was curious for two reasons; Jean’s health and what it might mean for herself.

Jean thought that was kind of funny. A winter weather line in Orange County that was probably actually somewhat decent against the cold. That was something she’d never expected when she first moved out here. And then the blizzard had hit and she’d ended up trapped at home, half wishing she'd been stuck with Emma. But then, being stuck with Emma in a blizzard might have had interesting consequences.

She appreciated the retail therapy, though. She rubbed her forehead. "They aren't quite as bad, just more frequently now. I'm not sure which is worse."

Wincing in sympathy, Emma focused on keeping the car on the road, since she’d opted for driving herself this time, circling to park along the road by the small but stylish boutique she had taken quite the liking to after discovering the odd little outfits. “I’d say that yes, that would be hard to decide.” Fewer but stronger, or all the time and less severe. Emma couldn’t say which she’d prefer.

“Well, hopefully this will take your mind off it.” Killing the engine, Emma gave Jean’s knee a soft pat, “At the very least you’ll have lovely things to tolerate migraines in.”

“And lovely company to keep,” Jean replied. She got out of the car and pulled her jacket closer around her body. She wondered if she could use TK to keep herself warm but there were risks to that and it wasn’t exactly like her powers were at one hundred percent. And she didn’t know what Emma really thought about the situation.

And then there was the whole alarming telepath thing and what that could mean for hiding her attraction.

“C’mon,” Emma certainly wasn’t holding back on contact either, grabbing Jean’s hand to tug her along into the store, just as Melissa opened the door with a bright smile and a welcome. Emma made a point of making friends with people who could get her first access at things, even in a little place like this. “Melissa here has some darling peacoats in, far warmer than these flimsy things right here.” A little flick at Jean’s current jacket and a smirk had Emma shaking off her own coat to look around the modest store.

“Have classes finished up yet, Jean? Can we get you in some less conservative teachery things now?”

“I’m sorry my jacket is flimsy and out of fashion,” Jean intoned. She shook her coat off and folded it over her arm. She chuckled, looking around the store. “I’m probably going to regret it, but you only live once, have your way with me, Emma.”

Smirking slightly, Emma flipped through a few of the dresses hanging on display, “Darling, that’s a very dangerous thing to say to me.” Not entirely, not really. She’d never push Jean too far, not after just reconnecting after so long. But there were plenty of ways to take that statement.

There were a lot of darling little silk blouses, a-line skirts, some moderate length dresses that would do in this current weather fluctuation. Of course one of them had a very brave neckline. Emma just smiled sweetly as she held it up to Jean’s frame, “Oh dearest, you absolutely must try this one.”

“Maybe I like to live dangerously,” Jean replied. “You know what they say about redheads.” She flashed Emma a faux-innocent smile and followed her through the aisles, then took the dress and held it up. “You would pick this one. What the hell, I’ll try it on.”

She had a memory, once, of picking out a dress for a night out, when they were young. Of hoping Emma would notice but also hoping she wouldn’t notice. Which made perfect sense now, of course. She couldn’t help but add, “Had the weirdest dream the other night.”

“Oh?” Emma managed to feign slight disinterest. Although the mention of dreams in this place was a loaded issue. Between the ones she was having herself, all the ones people were talking about and Jean’s own mentioned superhero school, Emma wasn’t sure just how this avenue would pan out.

But if Jean was going to be trying on a dress, Emma might as well find something for herself. White, obviously, although the shimmery pearlised look was close enough. “Weird like you need to lay off the cheese or weird like existential crisis?”

“Maybe a little bit of both. You know that super-hero school I told you about?” Jean took the dress and started towards the dressing room, a little bit of a sashay to her hips. “We had an encounter with something called the Hellfire Club.”

Emma’s hand stopped as she picked up a dress, turning to look a Jean’s back as she sauntered over to the dressing room. It likely was not a coincidence that the club she’d worked for and something in Jean’s dreams were named the same. Then again, it was common knowledge to anyone who so much as googled Emma’s name that she’d been a stripper once. “Really?” Raising her voice purely so that Jean could still hear her. “That’s something.”

Just what kind of something, Emma wasn’t entirely sure yet.

"I'd say it was some kind of subconscious desire, but with the way my dreams have been going I'm not surprised at anything anymore." Jean replied. Maybe giving away more information than she should, or maybe she was just playing around. She flashed a smile over her shoulder. "Come help me with my zipper?"

“You know, if your subconscious wants, we could just drive to LA and let you have a real life experience with the Club.” Of course, Emma would make a point of missing Sebastian and Selene, thank you very much, she didn’t care for a reunion there.

Leaving the clothes where they were, Emma moved to join Jean in the dressing room, there to aid in zipping, not to appreciate expanses of skin. “Looking to supplement that teacher’s salary?”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Jean said. “It wasn’t a pleasant experience in the dream. It seemed like it was a front for supervillains. Some of the details are a little fuzzy, I got thrown several years of dream life at once.” She was wearing a lacy red bra underneath and looked at the new dress again trying to figure out if it would work. “Well, lets give this a shot.”

She glanced back at Emma. “Don’t tell anyone, but I did do an amatuer night once.”

Amatuer night, really? Emma just raised an eyebrow -mostly at the comment, a little at the darling red lace she got an eyeful of. “Sweetheart, it’s public record just what I did, who exactly would I tell about your racy little walk on the wild side?” Everyone had to try it once, right? Well, probably not everyone. Still.

A little dancing, some clothes coming off. That wasn’t so bad. Emma tended not to go into too much detail about just what she had done with the club -the money that went into it, it was a little more than just a teasing glimpse of flesh. “Odd coincidence with the name.” Emma had to wonder just what that meant. The Hellfire Club here was a very elite portion of the clients at the Black King. “Did you happen to catch any names?” Jean really needed to get into that dress, half for the sake of public decency, and half because Emma was getting a lot of interesting ideas on just what it might actually look like on.

"I could be convinced with the right argument." It was a thrilling thought. It wasn't like she could lose her mind and go Dark Phoenix or that they'd try to control her mind or something. Right? "Seems like it, though. Probably...not quite the same. I was undercover or something." If that was even her. That whole section of her dreams had been confusing. She pulled the dress on, and motioned for Emma to zip her back up. "Sebastian Shaw?"

Emma’s hand paused halfway up Jean’s back, zipper held between delicate fingers. “Hmm.” That was far too coincidental right there, Sebastian and his power plays. She was starting to think she may understand right then just what her own headaches were now. “I really hope your dream self has the good sense not to trust him.” Someone like Jean, Sebastian could only have unsavory plans for.

Pulling the zip the rest of the way, Emma smoothed her hands down Jean’s sides, “There, all perfect.”

“I definitely don’t.” Jean wasn’t ready to talk about the other things. Emma’s part in her dreams. It was confusing enough to see Emma as an enemy in her dreams and then as one of her best friends while awake, and she wanted Emma to come to her first about her part in them. If she dreamed at all. Honestly, Jean would be happier with other kinds of dreams involving Emma.

“Thanks.” She turned around with a flourish. “How do I look?”

There was a lot to these dreams, Emma was discovering a large overlap in her upbringing, although with the noticeable absence of a certain best friend. She wasn’t yet ready to accept just what the indications were of her headaches, the mind reading aspect of her dreams.

“Good,” but Shaw wasn’t something to trust in any iteration, not by Emma’s understanding of the man. “He’s bad news, that much I can tell you for sure.” Cheating bastard to boot.

Standing back to take Jean in properly, Emma just smirked, “Decadent darling, absolutely stunning. Which of course means you have to take it.” Running a hand over Jean’s shoulder, pushing some of her lush hair back, Emma just smiled sweetly.

“It’s all so complicated. I’m going to sit down and make a chart just to try to keep track of everything.” Jean smiled as Emma looked her over, and she couldn’t quite keep the hitch out of her voice at Emma’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you approve, I feel like I’m going to fall out of this thing.”

But it wasn’t as bad as some of the things she’d seen people wear in her dreams.

If the point of the dreams was to understand something, then maybe keeping track of things wouldn’t be too bad an idea. “A good idea, even if just to keep up with things.” Emma was in the process of falling in lust for Ian all over again (with some slight alterations it seemed) in her dreams, but there was always something niggling at her. She guessed that she’d find out eventually, so long as she paid attention.

Perhaps as much attention as she was to just the way the dress was sitting on Jean right then. “Well, I think you pull it off nicely. Although you will need shoes to match.”

"With killer heels, am I right? I could probably use TK to keep my balance." Something made Jean put her hands on Emma's shoulders, like it was the most natural thing she could do. Was Emma checking her out, or just appreciating her aesthetically? Jean couldn't tell and she wasn't about to go prying around in Emma's head. She moved her right hand along Emma's shoulder, to the side of her neck. "What's your favorite part?"

Something was pushing her head forward, and while she didn't want to actually resist the urge, she had to resist the urge because Emma was her friend and kissing would be bad.

And so the evil mistletoe over their heads had to try that much harder because Jean Grey Was Just That Stubborn.

There was nothing wrong with appreciating the finer things in life, and the attractiveness of people was something that Emma appreciated very much. Objectively she could find attractive qualities in a lot of people. Jean was decidedly easy to objectify, but there was much more to the attraction there than just looks, which was likely why Emma pushed it aside -that way led to dangerous things after all.

“Of the dress, or the way it looks on you?” There was the odd draw forward, although perhaps it was more like a wall of pressure at her back, nudging her insistently towards Jean. Strange, considering she hadn’t felt so overly shoved in the past as much as subtly pulled in. Perhaps it was just a magnetic pull of their normal inclinations, but this seemed a lot more forceful than their own pull.

“Jean?”

“Both,” Jean said. Her throat bobbed as her sense of what was appropriate or not started to leave her. Emma was so stunning, and unbelievably sexy and there might have been a part of her that was both jealous and angry with Emma over it. Or at least there’d be a part of her like that in another time and place. Here though, Jean didn’t feel jealous of Emma’s beauty. Emma was alluring and it was like someone was pushing their heads towards each other and going ‘now kiss.’

And then she was threading her fingers through the hair on the back of Emma’s neck, and pressing her lips firmly and eagerly against Emma’s. A little groan escaped her mouth.

There were times and places where Emma would admit that common sense left her and she acted without thought. This was a lot more like common sense being put on hold. As Jean very boldly crossed the space and their lips fused, Emma was sure she should’ve been considering more than just how pleasantly soft Jean’s lips were.

Emma had maybe an inch of height over the redhead, allowing her to tilt just slightly, hands smoothing around the soft waistline of the fabulous dress to stroke up Jean’s back. Jean’s soft groan was met with a light sigh from Emma, still unsure just why the need to lock lips came over them, but content to not think too hard on the matter currently.

Whatever had urged Jean on, she didn’t think much on it. Emma’s lips were too soft, and her body too warm to really care. The hands on her back only made her move against Emma until their bodies were locked together like interlocking pieces of a puzzle. A puzzle that hadn’t been able to link together until now.

Jean rested her left hand on Emma’s hip, fingers splaying out and thumb stroking across smooth fabric. Her lips parted a little and it wasn’t entirely clear how much was actually that mysterious urging force and how much was her own impulse.

Hedonistic tendencies meant that Emma was in no way concerned with the why, not at that precise moment at least. She could worry about those things later. Pressing against Jean, knees almost bumping together in the close space of the changing room, pressing all the more closer just made sense.

Emma was just preparing to plunge her hands into Jean’s hair and deepen things all the more, have her against a wall if needed, when a soft knock on the changing room door startled her, “Miss Frost? Is everything alright?”

It was enough, for the moment, to have Emma pull back slightly, somewhat disappointed at the stark reminder of just where she was. “Yes, everything is fine.” And if she was just a little out of breath no one would mention it, would they.

Jean leaned back against the mirror, head tilting back as she struggled to get her breathing under control. It was a rather ravishing looking image, but her eyes focused on something strange floating over their heads. A piece of mistletoe that wiggled a little bit, and floated away while making a chiming cackling sound.

She didn’t know what to make of it, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to look Emma in the eyes. She swallowed hard, and joked, “I think I need to get this dress.”

“I’d say so,” it was simple to avoid eye contact for a moment, Emma taking a step to the side and righting herself. There was far too much possibility that something could be seen through the cracks in a defence right then. Squaring her blouse and her pants, fingers running through her hair, likely just messing it up more, Emma took the time to get herself composed.

Wanting things was all good and well, but certain things were meant to happen and certain things were not. Right now, Emma highly doubted that she and Jean were meant to be sharing clandestine kisses in dressing rooms. “Shall we find some accessories for you?” Put some distance there, rather than let the tension smother them.

Jean nodded. She hadn’t expected kissing Emma to affect her so much. Her lips were buzzing, her heart still pounding, and she had to take a moment to fix her hair, too. She absently trailed a finger along her neckline. “Something to emphasize the neckline, maybe.”

Were they not going to talk about this? Were they just going to pretend nothing had happened? She wondered if anyone else was getting put through this. She wondered if maybe Emma hadn’t liked it.

“Yes,” it was entirely unavoidable for Emma to glance towards that neckline, following it down the valley of Jean’s smooth skin before catching herself and resolutely admonishing herself. Foolish really, and Emma didn’t do foolish things. “That’s exactly what you should do.”

Really, Emma was a little busy figuring out just what had come over her -she was a calm woman, most of the time, and while she enjoyed herself easily with either gender, she usually made the decision beforehand to do such things. Emma Frost did not kiss best friends randomly and spur of the moment like in dressing rooms unless she conceived the thought herself. “Shall we go find some jewels to hang around your--” again, the eyes went there, Emma, control yourself. “Neck?”

It was next to impossible to ignore where Emma’s eyes kept going to. It didn’t make things any more or less awkward, but it was an observation that Jean filed away to think about later. She wondered if Emma had ever slept with someone in a dressing room. The thought was sudden and partly unwelcome. Jean had, once, and it had been an experience, but it wasn’t an experience she was going to have with best friends who she’d kissed on impulse. “I’ll just wear this out, that would be easier, don’t you think?”

And it would keep distracting Emma, which was fine by her.