Chapter 15: The Life and Times of Harry’s
“Have a drink,” she said.
“It’ll be a small affair,” she said.
“Try bonding,” she said.
Bullshit.
Emma and Betsy arrived together, the blonde playing the “You spoke for me so there’s no way I’m showing up on time or alone” card. Lucky her too because this supposed low key apology round courtesy of Nightcrawler turned out to be a surprise pow wow. Imagine Emma’s face if she’d showed up alone expecting a quick meet-n’-leave.
And who was suppose to be the precognitive here?
From across the room and surrounded by Storm, Rogue, Kurt, Jean, Logan, and Bishop, Betsy flashed Emma a grin, jiggled her pint of Guinness, and mentally laughed, *Just enjoy yourself!*
Easy for her to say. The rest of world wasn’t doing their poignant best to ignore her or give her their approximation of a death glare. Those who weren’t fawning over Betsy hung out in little groups of their own--Alex and Lorna, a plastered Kitty with Rachel and Shan, so forth. Emma... well, she got stuck sipping a dry martini at the four person kiddy table.
“Geez Frosty, what crawled up your ass and froze?”
Jubilation Lee. What a joy to be thrown in a lot with her.
“Jubilee! Ah don’t think Ms. Frost appreciates that kinda talk!”
Ahh, ever sweet Paige Guthrie. Pity her pleasurable companionship was always joined by one aforementioned, Asian girl.
Interesting thought though. “How did you girls get into Harry’s?”
“Thank the elf boy for that one,” Jubilee replied as she took a break from inhaling her soda. “Got in before the night crowd came. If ya haven’t noticed, it’s Harry’s Bar AND Grill,” she said, winking, “Us not quite twenty-one types get free sodas.”
“How... quaint.”
The fourth member of their “kiddy table” club? An out of place Henry McCoy sporting none of his exuberance or verbosity.
“Yo,” said Jubilee, poking at Beast with her straw, “Papa bear, you home? Starin’ at your drink ain’t gonna make it go away. Unless of course...”
She made a shifty attempt at snaring Hank’s beer which Emma stopped. The blonde’s free hand moved, flashing from her side and smacking Jubilee’s wrist.
“Ouch!” yelped the girl, rubbing the angry-looking welt, “Since when did you move like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon?”
“Since this morning,” Emma bristled, the two once more falling into their old student-teacher dynamic.
“Haha, very funny Frosty. Have anything to do with Betts lockin’ you up in the Danger Room for hours?”
“Digging for rumors already?” Emma put on her Cheshire cat grin, the same one which infuriated Jubilee to no ends by managing to be insulting, manipulative, and suggestive all at once. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Jubilation.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “It’s Jubilee, and no Frosty, not everything I hear gets blabbered to everyone else. Can’t I just care about my ex-teach?”
“I’m touched,” Emma remarked, bringing an almost imperceptible glimmer of mischievous hope in Jubilee’s face, “but I’m not fooled.”
Stomp. There went that glimmer of hope.
Since Frost was her usual no-fun self, Jubilee returned to the dejected Hank. According to Wolvie who heard from Kurt who talked to Storm who ran into Jean, the big blue machine was none too pleased at himself or Betts. Death threats, kidnapping, built up angst--pretty heavy stuff, and all of it festering. With Betts living la vida loca, poor ol’ Hank didn’t have anywhere else to go, and really, no one to talk to.
Which reminded her. “Hayseed,” said Jubilee, elbowing her friend in the side, “Where’s your wingman?”
“At a business meetin’. He turned down Kurt this mornin’.”
Well, more power to him. The way those two split up, he probably didn’t want to be seeing Betts anyways, especially with Paige around. Too bad because Hank could’ve used Warren’s company, but Jubilee wasn’t about to let her favorite (yes, favorite, even more so than Kurt) fuzzy friend get all down on himself.
To coax a reaction, Jubilee struck an odd pose--one involving Paige and Emma’s white, leather jacket--and said in a bubbly voice, “Gimme a smile, Hank!”
He couldn’t mask the strain in his smile. Along with the nostalgia Harry’s brought back were the broken feelings over his departure from the X-Men. There weren’t any overt displays of unfriendliness, but man was there a wave of discomfort. Unlike Kitty who stayed in touch, Hank severed all ties, a gesture some considered excessive. She also parted on better terms, a point she hammered home whenever they got a chance to talk.
Six months... not a long time, but enough for the world to move on. The X-Men moved on, just like they always did. Faces--a few new, most old--looked different to him and looked differently at him. For all of Jean and Kurt’s cajoling, Hank couldn’t gather the wherewithal to break through the initial blanket of iciness. That led him into the company of Paige, Jubilee, and Emma.
The first two young ladies, shielded from much of the mansion’s drama by the age barrier, still held him in high esteem. Emma Frost? She never had anything bad to say about him as much as he never had anything bad to say about her. Their relationship was cordial, nonjudgmental, and that was just what he wanted.
He appreciated Jubilee’s effort to cheer him up, but the melodrama wouldn’t leave.
Seeing Hank’s uneasiness, Emma swooped between one bubbly teen and one depressed doctor. “Logan wants to have a word with you.”
The very mention of his name unleashed Jubilee’s store of hero worship. Not a small part of her still liked to show off her tight connection with Wolverine, something Paige had been privy to before and, if that sparkle in Jubilee’s eye meant anything, would be privy to again in just a moment.
“Oooooo, Wolvie,” she called out to the man across the room while snatching Paige’s arm and sliding out of her chair, “You rang?”
Logan squinted, glancing between a beaming Jubilee and a way too calm Emma. He glued his stare on Emma and tilted his head in Jubilee’s direction, almost as if saying, “I didn’t say nothing. What’s your game, Frost?”
In response, the blonde leaned to the side, revealing Hank in all his dejected glory. Her eyes darted between Beast and Jubilee in a “Game? What game? I’m trying to stop this girl from driving him insane” gesture.
He grunted, his posture relaxing slightly. “Get over here, kiddo,” he said in that gruff yet affectionate way of his. Two blinks later and Jubilee--Paige in tow--went from the kiddy table to Betsy’s table, somehow seamlessly inserting herself into three of the ongoing conversations there.
Emma sighed to herself. For a non-telepath, Logan could communicate quite well without speech. Probably had something to do with all the inhuman growling he’d done in his life. Rrrrrr, point, point, grrrrrrrrrr, punch, kick, roar, growl, grumble, point.
Hehe.
“Oh my stars and garters, was my foul mood so apparent?”
Not to mince words, Emma polished off the rest of her martini before saying, “Of course. They’re young, not stupid.”
“True,” he chuckled mirthlessly. “Youth... I remember it like it was yesterday...”
“It was yesterday. I’m sure you were younger twenty four hours ago.”
“Your cynicism befuddles even my own, Ms. Frost. I bow at your Hemmingway-esque powers.”
“I’ve had practice, especially during these past two days.”
Hank chugged his beer before chuckling, “Ah yes, what a segue into asking me about my own issues pertaining to the party-hardy Ms. Braddock. Points for subtlety, Ms. Frost.”
Well, not exactly her intention, but since he brought it up...
“Elisabeth feels terrible,” said Emma, “And she doesn’t think you’d want her apologies because you’ve been rather picky about the company you keep. As Jean noted, she is just as afraid to talk to you as you are of her.”
“My, my, I forget how fast word spreads in the mansion.”
“That it does,” Emma admitted, “but you’d be amazed how much you can learn from scanning Jubilation’s surface thoughts.”
It was good to hear Beast’s laugh again. Loud and boisterous, it turned many frowns upside-down, and Emma had a soft spot for it. Why, she’d almost join him herself if her cell phone wasn’t ringing.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Frost, this is Sheila.” Sheila. New personal assistant at Frost Enterprises. Dealt almost exclusively with PR. “Are you in front of a television?”
Emma looked around and saw all the TVs turned to a baseball game and surrounded by fans. “Yes, I am.”
“Please turn it to CNN, ma’am. We have a problem.”
She walked to one of the sets and changed the channel. A few disgruntled Cubs fans yelled at her, but her patent-pending “Don’t make me destroy your soul” glare silenced them. One of the news network’s mainstays, Aaron Brown, yammered away while the words “Breaking News” flashed across the ticker.
“... as can be. On the phone, we’re joined by this man, one Dr. Isa Hayes, formerly of Frost Enterprises in Chicago. Welcome Dr. Hayes.”
“Good to be here, Aaron.”
“You claim that your previous employer, owner and CEO of the multi-billion dollar conglomerate, Emma Grace Frost, is a mutant.”
“That is correct, Aaron.”
“You have to understand that, in the current American climate, this is one loaded allegation, Dr. Hayes.”
“Yes I do, but it is the truth, so I have nothing to be afraid of.”
“Do you have any proof? Ms. Frost is perhaps the United States’ most respected businesswoman and held in very high esteem by many. The burden of proof, sir, is upon you.”
“Well Aaron, I’ve developed a mutant tracking device by combining a software genetic filter that works with every day GPS technology. My first subject was one of the X-Men. In a curious twist, I tried to identify all the individuals surrounding him and found one of them to be my former employer. I approached her with this information and she terminated my contract.”
“Fascinating st-”
Emma shut off the TV.
Everyone in the bar quietly stared at her, and if not for the Cubs game, people could actually hear themselves.
“Hello?” asked Sheila. “Ma’am, are you still there? Hello?”
“I’ll be at the Manhattan office soon.” She hung up and stomped out the door.
Betsy looked at the dumbfounded crowd, frowned in disgust, and took off after the blonde. In the parking lot, she shouted at her retreating target, “Emma! Hey Emma! Wait!”
The woman whipped around, angry as all hell. “Not a broken toy!” she shouted at Betsy, harkening back to their previous talk, “Keep to yourself on this one. Frost Enterprises is my child, and I’ll be damned if some no-name, disgruntled hack tarnishes its image.”
“I’m just telling you to be careful,” calmed Betsy as she caught up to Emma. “I know how much your company means to you, and if you need anything, call me.”
“Are you trying to get into my good graces?”
“No, I’m treating you like a friend, albeit a very touch-and-go, mercurial as a drunk Irishman friend, but a friend nonetheless.”
So Betsy made an effort to reach out. Fine. Emma could do that too despite all the nosy poking and prodding.
“I’ll be in touch.”
Thud. She pulled the gates down on their psychic rapport.
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- To be continued...
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