Surprise me, darling.
Who: Jean Grey and Emma Frost What: Jean recently moved into Emma's spare room when: early April Where: Emma's place Status: complete rating: PG-13
Since Jean moved in, something Emma had been adamant about (a motel! Really, her friend girlfriend? Not likely, and that was all Emma was saying on the matter) there hadn’t really been to many adjustments to make.
Emma’s home was fairly larger, the joys of having the funding to snap up any real estate she pleased. With enough space that even with Jean staying there, there’d be room to house the remaining ‘original’ X-Geeks and keep space between them. Emma mostly just liked having the space should she need it one day. She had a cleaning service that came daily, someone stocked her kitchen routinely, although Emma was rarely home to eat before Jean moved in, and a gardener came to take care of her plush lawn and bright flowers.
She didn’t necessarily care much for gardening, but she liked having a nice one.
Of course, even with the small adjustments, a somewhat more domestic home life was something that Emma was still getting used to. Especially at the weekend when Jean had no school and Emma found herself taking more time off then, just to spend it at home with the redhead. Currently, she was looking forward to a lazy Saturday, preparing some fruit to snack on for breakfast, standing in the kitchen to over look that lovely garden and pool of hers, silk robe open over her PJ’s while she considered just enjoying the day out by the pool with a cocktail and the sun.
Fighting Emma on moving in had only been done as a principle thing, and she’d given in pretty easily. The thought of actually living with Emma? Was an appealing one. They were just doing so until she could find a new place. And rebuild. The worst thing was losing her books. But she’d made headways into finding replacements, at least.
She hadn’t gotten the courage to suggest they share a bed too, so she had her own room (and maybe keeping that anyway for space might be a good idea. At the very least some place she could put up things that reminded her of her own self. Sometimes she was afraid she’d break something!)
And then there was the dog but he was mostly well behaved. A walking mop, but well behaved. Even if he seemed to adore Emma. If her feet were available? He’d flop onto them.
Jean forgot herself a little this morning, coming out of the shower and pulling a robe on. She stretched as she came into the kitchen and belatedly realized her robe was wide open. She quickly clinched it shut. “Uh. Morning.”
Emma’s lips just pulled into a smirk, carefully pulling back the comment she had on her tongue. “A very good one.” There were a few changes that Emma had made, mostly her own modesty had taken a few hits -she had put on clothes more often than she usually would, but that was polite with house guests. She’d given up keeping track of dog hair, even if Jean’s oddly docile and polite dog made a point in staying off the furniture -something Emma was sure he did just to prove Emma wrong about dogs.
But those occasional mornings of forgetting that there was another person? Well, Emma had no problem with those. “Are we intending on turning the pool into a nudist resort?” So maybe she couldn’t contain all comments, but it was in no way a complaint.
Jean wouldn’t really object to Emma wearing less clothing more often. It would just be a lot more distracting than it already was. She ran fingers through her hair, face (and likely everything else) reddening. “It’s hard getting used to....I’d say I’m sorry but you clearly aren’t.”
“Oh, of course I’m not.” Emma was shameless, and really, to her nudity was just one of those things. But other people seemed to be more concerned with it, who saw what and all that. Emma had shed that modesty years ago -she was far too proud of her assets to worry about who got to see them. “Besides, at least I have something more accurate for comparison now.”
Of course she hadn’t been imagining Jean at all since she moved in. That would just be-- Okay, so she absolutely had, even Emma only had so much willpower. “I have absolutely no objections at all, dear.”
The only person Jean wanted to see Emma’s assets was her. But she maybe wasn’t ready to say that out loud. But with telepathy (and just body language) it was hard to hide some things. And Jean’s thoughts frequently occasionally took a turn in that direction. Emma was just down the hall, wouldn’t it be grand if she suddenly paid a visit?
“I’m not sure walking around in the buff is conducive to...anything.”
It was probably very conducive to them rushing headlong into this relationship without any breaks, but she had it on good authority that the point of this was to slow down a little and try to work it out properly. With reasoning and all that. Even if Emma knew Jean was entertaining thoughts similar to hers from time to time.
“Well then, we’ll stick to covering up. Mostly.” Because an exhibionist never changed her spots. “Would you like some breakfast dear?” The actual domestic part of this whole thing wasn’t exactly familiar for Emma, but she was finding that she didn’t mind it terribly, and she wasn’t utterly terrible at it either.
Provided she didn’t have to physically cook things, she was doing well.
Proper. Reasoning. Pfft. Greys tended to rush head long into things and Jean was pretty sure her brakes were going to give out any day now. She leaned her hip against the counter, eyeing Emma up and down like she was considering a frosty breakfast.
“I should pick up some frostedflakes.” It was a bad pun, but it was her pun and she liked it. “I actually haven’t had more than a bowl of cereal or an energy bar for breakfast in…. Years.”
Emma just rolled her eyes, although Jean’s comedic attempts weren’t utterly terrible most of the time. “I could frost something for you,” and bad puns were just going around now. “Oh, darling, please don’t expect anything too exciting, however I do have some fruit salad and yoghurt if you’d like?” She could possibly make toast without burning it in the first try.
I couldn’t resist, Jean thought, smiling at Emma. Though she tried to keep exactly what Emma could frost to herself. God, was she seventeen? “Yogurt sounds good, actually. Nice and quick and usually delicious.” Except for the One Time That Shall Not be Mentioned.
Best before dates were there for a reason.
Apparently, living with someone you were dating but not actively sleeping with turned one into a hormone fueled mess. Not that Emma was terribly surprised. There was rather a lot of history there after all. “Usually?” Oh, Emma could imagine times when it was in fact, not delicious.
Still, it wasn’t at all a bother to get a few things together, the coffee pot already on, gathering the bowl of fruit from the fridge along with the yogurt. “Would you like it on the patio? Or shall we stay inside so that you don’t need to get dressed?” Despite the fact that her neighbours were a good distance away, some people had such a thing as modesty.
The problem with telepathy is sometimes things leaked out. Hank spent weeks not looking at her after she and Scott had had sex the first time. Ahem.
Jean looked out over the patio then shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll be fine on the patio. I don’t think anyone can see anything from here at all.”
She sounded innocent. Her tone was innocent, her voice was innocent. But something simmered in her emerald eyes and just the way her lips curled to hint that maybe it wasn’t so innocent at all. Jean couldn’t stop herself, she really loved flirting with Emma.
Emma went as far as to raise an eyebrow at Jean, but didn’t ask further. She was right, after all, no one was really close enough to bother them, it was why Emma liked her home, instead of getting a penthouse here like she had in Boston, a house with a large garden and pool seemed like the lap of luxury for California.
“The fresh air will, no doubt, be good for us to.” And it was warm enough that Jean’s robe and Emma’s little slip of pj’s wouldn’t be too chilly. “Provided the mop stays out of the pool.” Emma liked to put up with token protests about Jean’s little pup, but she really didn’t mind the attention stealing furball.
Perhaps it was too big a house but that wasn’t Jean’s place to say. The X-Mansion had always been ridiculously large. Even if they’d eventually gotten their own renewable energy source. California was just decedent in general, which seemed to be apropos for Emma.
“Chlorine and he don’t get along,” Jean assured her. “And he can stay inside for the time being.” And the mop certainly seemed happy to do so. He was eyeing Emma’s expensive couch.
“Then the patio it is.” Californian mornings tended to be just the right side of welcoming, not too hot, but not chilly, before the sun really got to it’s peak. Sunglasses wouldn’t be required just yet. At least not with the shading for the day.
“After breakfast, you could always work on your tan.” Emma just smirked, enjoying the air and sun, reclining against her seat with a glass of orange juice, “What better day than to get rid of those pesky tan lines that tend to happen, hmm?”
“Planning on working from the patio facing window?”Jean asked, crossing her legs as she settled into her seat. Her robe fell open just enough to tease, but not quite enough to show. She hadn’t had the opportunity to really tease someone in a while and she was taking full advantage of that fact.
And maybe the thought of sunbathing was appealing. “Or is today an off day?”
Usually it was Emma being the one in the short skirts, thin blouses, the skin baring clothes, at least in her relationships thus far. Sebastian had often appreciated when she remained in her working clothes from the Black King. Perhaps an early indicator that he was a shallow, arrogant misogynist, but still. Emma appreciated the view just as much as the conversation.
“Today is an off day,” something she was doing far more regularly with Jean living with her. “My undivided attention is utterly yours.” Especially if there was going to be some sunbathing.
Jean believed that Emma should wear what she wanted. While she’d been less charitable in her dreams, that was still somewhat the case. It wasn’t her place to say, and honestly she liked the view. Even if dream-her would never, ever admit that.
“I think you’ve convinced me.” Jean looked out towards the city, trying to hide her blush.
Some women found moderate nudity empowering, others took to a more demure look. The fact was that it was whatever worked for you. Emma wore what made her feel comfortable, it just so happened, that sometimes it involved a lot more skin than most.
“I’ll have to remember this method, if only so that I can get my own way often.” Yes, because Emma was having such problems there, hah. Not likely. “Don’t worry, if you need some sunscreen, I’d be more than happy to help.” There was more than one of them that liked to tease after all.
Jean grinned at her. You just want to see me topless, don’t you.. She gave the telepathic image of her starting to shrug the robe off, only to stop it just before it got good.
There was something important they should talk about, but Jean wasn’t sure now was the time for the ‘relationship’ talk.
Emma just smirked sipping on her juice some more while she enjoyed the mental projections, “Darling I’d have you bottomless just the same.” Emma honestly wouldn’t mind if Jean decided to prance around nude at the weekends, of course it was unlikely, but there would be no complaining.
“Although, perhaps you would be amenable to a dinner out tonight, in which case I may just have to concede that clothes may be required.”
“I doubt there are nudist restaurants, and if there were, you showing up would just show everyone else up,” Jean told her. She could have been joking. Maybe she wasn’t. Jean winked at Emma. “But I think that would be nice. I enjoy our dates.”
She glanced over at Emma, then reached over to brush her hand down her arm.
As Jean reached her wrist, Emma turned her hand over, catching Jean’s fingers and linking them. “As do I,” nudist restaurants or not, it was lovely just to spend the evenings with Jean, even just little brunch dates or the like, they were decidedly enjoyable if only for the astounding company.
She was moderately concerned about when the press found out, less for herself and more for Jean, but it wasn’t like California was overly conservative about these things anyway. Then again, Emma’s history was public record by now.
Jean was so used to living with other people from the dreams that she had quickly adapted to moving into Emma's house. Even if this was an entirely different situation. She hadn't even thought about the press thing.
"Should I surprise you or do you want to select something together?"
The element of surprise was greatly diminished the more they worked on their telepathy together, wasn’t it. And while Emma didn’t like surprises in business, she really didn’t mind them at all when it came to her personal life. “Surprise me, darling. As much as either of us is capable of it.”
“It might give you an excuse to work on penetrating my shielding,” Jean teased. She felt brave, suddenly, setting aside her tray and getting up. She walked over to Emma’s chair, then sank into her lap. Too fast? Too soon? Did she really care? In her dreams she wanted to hate this woman. When awake she wanted to kiss her. It gave her a headache.
Emma didn’t really face the same inner debate that Jean did, as the redhead made herself at home atop Emma’s lap, the blond just let her arms settle to bracket Jean where she was, one slotting around Jean’s middle while the other shifted to drape over Jean’s legs, that clever hand slipping under the robe to stroke along Jean’s smooth thigh.
“Dearest, I’m not terribly sure I need an excuse, other than my own burning curiosity to see just what lies beneath that sultry mask of yours.” Peel back another layer, find more interesting things beneath to learn about. It was a rather enjoyable past time.
Oh jesus. Jean swallowed, trying very hard to maintain a sultry expression. Emma’s hand was warm, the melting kind of electricity that was hard to describe. “And what if I wanted to just let you in?” She wasn’t talking about dinner anymore. She already had an idea for that, but her mind was on other things.
“I would suggest that perhaps we were ready to take the plunge there,” sometimes Emma was terrified of the prospect, less because she was scared of what she or Jean might see, but just the openness of it all, baring everything. But at the same time, she didn’t want secrets from Jean either. “After all, it does go both ways.” And Emma had finally put to rest her worry at Jean seeing her dark little secrets.
There was a lot of trust in opening up one’s mind like this. A lot of things that one tended to keep hidden, often from oneself. But if they ever hoped to progress as a couple, or with their powers, that trust had to happen. Jean opened her mind and invited Emma in.
Realistically, Emma hadn’t trusted anyone to the extent she was meant to trust Jean for this, but she was looking to just take that plunge. She had enough of the ‘what if’ to live with for now. And when it came to Jean, that what if was buried in school, when they could’ve changed the outcome of life for the pair of them.
At the opening of Jean’s shields, Emma similarly made a parting in her own, reaching out so that she could sink into Jean’s mindscape just as much as she could wander through hers.
Who knew what would have happened if their younger years had been a little different? Or if there’d been an Xavier to take Jean under his wing, as creepy as that was. But what-ifs were a facet of the dream world and Jean was focused on the here and now, letting her mind and soul be bared to Emma. Oh, there were one or two places, hidden away thoughts and memories that should never see the light of day, but she expected to see glimpses of a few of those from Emma, too.
She’d done this in the dreams. With Scott. But dreaming about it and experiencing it in this world were so different that Jean nearly lost herself in Emma’s mind. She expected to ‘see’ a lot of ‘white’ and something pristine, yet with edges.
Whites worked. Emma wasn’t entirely surprised that her mindscape, when she learned how to construct it, resembled the manor she’d once grown up in, only her own preference for them. It was ordered, like white marble everywhere, and vast. Emma had been taking her time to carefully build and construct a perfectly manageable area, with order and structure. So that when she opened her mind to Jean, she knew exactly what Jean would be finding.
Save for one portion, locked away, the deeds she did with Sebastian, both in this world and her dreams, things she wasn’t yet ready to reveal to Jean. “If we keep slipping away into each others minds, people might start to talk.”
The order was nice. Jean’s mindscape was homier and warm, with fireplaces and books. The kind of place you could lose yourself in and feel at home in. It was a stark contrast to Emma’s order and structure. Look into the flame too long, however, and it might just stare back. Oddly enough, Jean thought she sensed the briefest flare of the Phoenix when she peered around Emma’s mind. But she dismissed that as her own mind.
“I’m sure people are already talking. Though I really ought to tell some friends we’re dating.” Jean felt as though she was looking in on them from a great distance.
For the most part, Emma hadn’t felt the need to broach the subject of her budding relationship with anyone. For the most part Emma didn’t have those kinds of friends. She had business associates and employees. And she had Jean. “So long as no one suggests double dates.”
But Emma didn’t care much for who knew what they were doing, Jean could tell whoever she wanted, the world really, Emma wasn’t looking for secrecy at all. “I’d spend the whole time in your mind and ignoring them.” Double dates were the worlds worst invention.
Jean doubted either Emma or Ororo would want to double date with each other, so she could spare them both that pain. “That’s fair enough.” She slipped her arms around Emma, both in reality and in the mindscape. She was comfortable in her lap, and didn’t care if anyone could see them. “No double dates then.”