Mirror, Mirror

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *glomp * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: Before I go, I promise. Morgan: *poke* Hello? Readers/Reviewers: Okay, there will be an update tomorrow, Friday and Sunday. If all goes well. *crosses fingers*

Emma pressed the cool, damp cloth against her eyes gingerly. She had not felt right since the hospital, not since Paige had been taken and Jono had vanished. She refused to let herself believe it was guilt. _I am Emma Frost. I do not feel guilty. It goes against everything I have ever believed in. I am a Frost. We are above guilt. _ She dropped the cloth and peered at her eyes in the small mirror over the communal sink in the upstairs bathroom. _Red and puffy. Fantastic. I look like my Aunt Sadie after she gets into the Christmas cheer… _ She could hear people moving about and knew that she needed to make an appearance soon, before Firestar said something unintentionally gauche or Sean burst in, bluff and blustering from dealing with the other side of the Institute. Straightening her shoulders and smoothing her features into a semblance of cool removal, Emma opened the door and stepped out into the hall. The smell of sawdust and fresh paint assailed her, not an overwhelming odor but one of subtle annoyance, mingled with potpourri and the distinctive aroma of antiques. The house had been officially, entirely, complete for less than a week. Students were returning, but there was still a glaring hole in the roster. Emma willed it to be a purely academic annoyance, one which would not prey on her mind during wakeful late night hours, but she knew, if she were to release the tiny monster rattling the bars in the back of her mind, she would be eaten alive by guilt and worry.



“Miss Frost,” a tiny voice said from the vicinity of her hip, “these are my parents.”
Emma blinked, realizing belatedly that she had made it downstairs unassailed by anyone on her staff or class list. “Ah, hello. I’m Emma Frost, the headmistress here,” she said cordially, extending one slim hand towards the waiting parents. “I hope Sylvia will be very happy here.” She managed a smile at the young girl, feeling the tug of panic in her mind and knowing this child was afraid of being found out. She mouthed niceties with the parents, all the while feeling the spiral of nervous need in the young girl’s mind. Almost without intending to, she sent * _ Join the club, kid _. *

“Emma,” Sean’s urgent voice sounded near her ear, “you’re needed in the study.”

“Pardon me,” she said smilingly to Sylvia’s parents, “I’ll be just a moment.” It was after midnight, she thought bitterly. Sylvia’s late arrival had been no fault of her parents or her own. The Friends of Humanity had been harassing them and they had to wait until it was safe to leave the house, four hours after their intended start time. Now it was moving towards dawn and they were all acting as if this was a normal day, taking tea and coffee in the reception area, making small talk, all the while guts roiling with fear and nausea, panic that their daughter would be dead before they saw her again. This was not their first choice, Emma knew. Nothing was. They were content to move through life, being average, being anonymous. Public school, mediocre university, get the girl married off, see the grandkids at holidays, die in their sleep. She could hear this like a litany as she moved towards the study, the father singing it in his head like a hymn. She felt a pang of disgust as these thoughts wended through her mind, as if they tainted her reserve, tainted her personal standing. “Tell them,” she murmured to Sean, nodding at the nervous parents, “that there is coffee on the end table. Make sure they know they can stay the night here. I’ll arrange for an escort to their home in the morning.” She did not wait to see if Sean agreed. She sailed into her study and shut the door firmly behind her. The phone was on it’s cradle but the hold button was glowing red. With a resigned sigh, she picked the receiver up and forced her voice to be polite. “Charles, the phone is really not necessary.”

“I like to keep the niceties,” he replied promptly, “maintain an aura of normalcy.”

She raised a brow, picking up on the hidden meanings in his words. “When will they be there?”

“I’m not sure, oddly enough…” In his own study, Professor Xavier eyed the computer screen and it’s jumble of images and words. His shoulder was sore and distracting him. He scolded himself for letting bodily woes take precedence over important matters such as what was before him. “A few of the stations are going to be here tomorrow night, during the rally at the college.”

“How did you find out?” she sighed, barely stifling a yawn. “If this was supposed to be a proper visit, they would have requested permission and given a time.”

“Ah, underground sources,” he replied with a trace of irony. Callisto had awakened him from a bare doze earlier and he had just now encouraged her to return to the Morlocks. There was trouble there, he knew, but it was not his for now. Wincing at the burgeoning heart burn, he silently cursed his Chinese buffet dinner and forced his attention back to Emma. “It seems that this is a guerilla operation, as it were. There is a Friends of Humanity rally tomorrow night and it seems someone is trying to stir up trouble by…poking at us. We’re on the list, it seems.”

“What list?” she groaned. “I didn’t sign us up for anything.”

“The Friends have listed the Xavier Institute as their public enemy number one,” Professor Xavier sighed.

After a long pause, Emma let her lips quirk into an unpleasant smile. “Have I ever thanked you for being my friend, Charles? I must say, since I’ve known you, my life has just been one thrill ride after another.”