12368/Trust Goes Both Ways

Trust Goes Both Ways
Date of Scene:	22 October 2020
Location:	Kitchen - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Emma's definitely not sure that some people aren't lying to themselves.
Cast of Characters:	Emma Frost, Cyclops

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Emma Frost has posed:
<<Summers, when you are actually coherent this morning, I require a moment of your time. I'm in the kitchen.>> Her mental tone is not hostile, it's merely... well, let's be honest. There's the automatic assumption on her part that he will respond to her summons in a timely fashion.

It's not exactly usual to find Emma in the kitchen actually prepping foodstuffs, but it's not all that *strange* either. She's cutting up fruit when he does finally arrive, the scent of fresh coffee -- and not the swill that some of the X-Men seem to like -- perfuming the air. "Good morning," she greets him mildly.

Cyclops has posed:
As always, Scott Summers has been awake well before the sun rose, and already out and about on his routines. He had a work out, a sit rep with several members of the team, followed by getting dressed in his suit and tie to be presentable in front of the students during the school hours. Now that the kids are in their classrooms, he makes his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Emma." The tall man says as he makes his way to one of the fridges to open it up and take out his vanilla creamer for his coffee, then heads over to the machine to fill his canteen. "Everything okay?"

Emma Frost has posed:
"Of course." The blonde is dressed ... far more casually than she usually is for class. A pair of white linen clamdiggers, designer flip flops on her feet, a loose blouse in deep blues and purples on a white background. Her hands continue their task as she glances up at him. "I am taking the afternoon off, since I have no classes to manage today and Jean has kindly returned to handle some of the paperwork." Despite the fact that her demeanor is no less imperious than usual, there's something about the casual dress that does make her more approachable. "I'm having lunch with the Atlantean prince," she informs him. "Jean felt it would be prudent to inform you of my intentions to tell him who I am."

No lead-in, no softening it, just dropping it into the middle of the room.

Cyclops has posed:
"I figured you would have told him your name by now. Has he just been calling you Miss Frost the entire time?" Scott asks as he pours the coffee into his canteen, followed by a splash of the creamer. Just enough to give it some flavor, but not enough to overpower the senses. Turning around to face her, he gives his wrist a swivel so that the two liquids can mix together.

Emma Frost has posed:
The look Emma gives him is the same one she gives the students when they're being deliberately obtuse. She's a good teacher, which he's learned on his own just from listening to how students talk about her class, but there are reasons that even the class cut-ups don't cut up in her room. "The White Queen and an X-Man, Summers." She calmly moves to put the pieces of cantelope and pineapple into the bowl she has sitting next to the cutting board.

Cyclops has posed:
"Why would you do that?" Scott asks rather bluntly to her. "I do not go around introducing myself as Cyclops of the X-Men to random people, royalty or not. Outside of 'other' superheroes when I'm in uniform. We do not promote Xavier's as a mutant school, or a home for superhero mutants as you know for safety reasons."

There is a furrow of the field leader's brow as he raises his canteen upwards to take a sip from it. "And you do not exactly have a concealing costume that hides your identity." He furrows his brows in thought. "Then again, neither does Hank." He takes another sip. "What is going on between you two?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Once the fruit is in a bowl, Emma calmly puts the sharp knife into the sink along with the cutting board. She rinses her hands off before turning to him with a dishtowel in her hand, blue eyes cool. "The school's secret will not be a topic of conversation, nor will anyone else's identity. Merely mine -- and the X-Men only as the assurance that things have changed for me." The aristocrat in her rebels a little at having to explain herself, but she reminds herself that she is trying to do and be a better person.

"He is a member of the Titans in New York himself, so team identities will be something he understands cannot be disclosed. But to put it bluntly, Summers... We are keeping personal company." There's a pause. "Courting, in his vernacular." Her lips tighten just slightly, as if she dislikes even sharing this much with him -- she's intensely private, and this makes her uncomfortable.

Cyclops has posed:
"Courting." Scott Summers says with a furrow of his brows. "I see." As usual, his tone is void in the way of emotion, years, and years, of training when navigating telepaths.

Raising his canteen up for another sip, he says. "If you feel that he would not compromise the integrity of the school, or the team, then I trust you to make the right decision."

Emma Frost has posed:
He may have years and years of training navigating telepaths, but telepathy is not something Emma needs. "That is the most diplomatic way of phrasing 'what the hell are you thinking and why are you like this' that I think I've ever heard," the blonde retorts, a faint smile quirking her lips. "I appreciate your restraint."

Cyclops has posed:
"I am not comfortable with the situation, Emma. The Titans are a teenager version of the Justice League without the experience. He is also /not/ a mutant. Our secrets that we keep here are designed to keep mutants safe. You brought him to the school. Now you want to tell him that you're an X-Man. If he was a mutant I would probably be more at ease with the situation. The more outsiders we bring through our front door, the higher the risk it becomes."

Scott takes another sip of his coffee. "I don't know this guy, outside of what you told us about him, which is not much. I don't care that he is a prince. I definitely do not care that he's a prince of a world that hates us Earth dwelling air breathers and is known for making inflammatory remarks towards us in the past via their King Namor."

"We have rules for a reason, because we have children here who's parents entrusted us to keep them safe from a world that hates them. I need a very good reason why you would be willing to compromise our entire world for your 'boyfriend' that you have barely been seeing."

Emma Frost has posed:
Tipping her head, Emma does him the courtesy of listening to him. Leaning one hip on the counter, she crosses her arms when he's finished and nods slightly. "Good, now we can speak plainly." As if she doesn't always? That thought might be terrifying.

"First -- he knows this is a very private school and that we have mutant students. Before I even considered taking the field trip, I had to determine how Atlanteans would deal with that situation. They don't have a problem with mutants, generally speaking. I am taking a group of powered students into his realm. If things go sideways -- and with these students that is usually the rule rather than the exception -- it would go very poorly indeed were he not aware of the fact that I have a rein on them."

She continues calmly without giving him the opportunity to interrupt her. "Second -- Atlantis is taking a seat at the global table. People are uneasy about that, and quite frankly? Mutants in general are in the crossfire already. It politically benefits us to have a good relationship with that kingdom *and* it personally benefits our students to have that relationship so that if all hell breaks loose -- as it is looking like it could -- we have an egress and shelter *other* than Genosha. Erik may be right, as you have pointed out, but that doesn't mean I want our students under his tutelage." Yes, she's using his own words against him. "Namor is an asshole, but from what I can gather of the *other* king -- Garth's king, the JLA member known as Aquaman -- he seems a reasonable being and was raised here on land. Essentially a mutant."

She quirks a brow at him. "And third -- My *personal* relationship is mine. My identity as the White Queen of the Hellfire Club is *mine*. And although I resent greatly having to actually explain myself to a man who has no business knowing this, he's the first person who has ever looked at me and seen more than what *you* see." The White Queen. The bitch. The hardcore businesswoman and near-villain. "A very clear line needs to be drawn between my personal relationship with him and the business and diplomatic relations that are being built between mutants and Atlantis. I should not have to actually *say* these words to you, but if for some reason I cannot *possibly* fathom right now his knowledge of my identity in any way compromises this school, it is a simple exercise to excise the knowledge from him." She would only do it if he were a threat, but Scott should know her well enough to know she absolutely *would* do it.

Cyclops has posed:
Taking another long sip of his coffee, Scott listens to her with a furrow of his brow. He lets out a low sigh under his breath an shrugs his shoulders upwards. "Alright. I trust you."

There is an exhausted tone about him. Resignation.

Emma Frost has posed:
There is a long moment as she looks at him. Emma says very quietly, "You have a very strange way of showing that." She turns to put the cover on the bowl of fruit and then moves around him to put it into the refrigerator until later. "Perhaps you should consider whether you're being honest with yourself."

The sound of her flip flops doesn't hold the crisp, sharp bite of that the sound of her usual high heels but there is a very real sense that the White Queen just swept out.

Cyclops has posed:
"Would it really matter, Emma? You seem to have made your mind up. Clearly you will out-argue any point I will try to make because this is what your skill-set is designed for and you have made incredible assumptions about the way I feel about you. I also am still trying to come to terms that the woman I love has a universe ending parasite piggy backing her."

Scott takes another long sip of his coffee. Those seeds of doubt that was planted long ago by The Straw Man are continuing to root themselves deep. "There are days I wonder why I'm even still h--" He glances over, noticing that she has left. "here." He glances down at his coffee, then makes his way for the backdoor to gain some fresh air.