FIC(let): Brief Kissing Incidents
Fandom: X-men movieverse
Rating: PG
Characters: Ensemble gen, a result of thinking about how I'd pull Emma Frost into the movieverse.
Wordcount: 930
Description: "It wasn't a love spell!" protests Scott. "You've been watching too much WB." X1, post-Liberty Island.
Disclaimers: Not mine, etc; pure silliness.

Logan knows he should be halfway to Alaska by now, but somehow he's sitting in front of the TV in the rec room at Xavier's school. He's lounging on the sofa, hogging the remote and pretending to look at these two guys taking apart a vintage Harley, and not at Jean, curled up against Summers on the – Jesus, does it have to be called a love seat? – absently rubbing his neck with the back of her hand. Logan wonders why he's looking, wonders if she wants him to look. He focuses back on the television. That is a damn fine motorcycle.

Rogue and the girl called Kitty lie on their stomachs on the floor. Loosely supervised by Storm (who's actually looking at the motorcycles too), the girls make a mess by cutting headlines out of last week's paper – for some kind of classroom project; or possibly ransom notes. Logan isn't paying that much attention, as long as the kid is happy.

Suddenly Kitty lets out a yelp, which comes out kind of like, "Holy shit!"

"Kitty. . ." scolds Summers, with his hall monitor's reflex.

The girl picks up the paper and waves it. "But but . . .guess who just pled guilty to tax evasion and insider trading?"

"Holy shit!" Jean leaps to her feet and lunges for the paper. Logan notices that Scott doesn't reprimand her. In fact, he shifts – alone on the loveseat -- and seems to concentrate harder on the television.

Storm scrambles to gather the other end of the paper. "Damn," she says, "I guess she was sick of Martha Stewart getting all the attention."

"And she gets pushed off the front page by Liberty Island." Logan has no idea of the 'she' in question, but Jean's tone sounds suspiciously like glee. "My god, what is that woman wearing?"

Storm puts on an exaggerated British accent, and strikes a pose. "Dior, darling. Always Dior." This is apparently the funniest thing Jean has ever heard. Summers still isn't laughing.

"Wait," says Rogue, "Who are we talking about?" When the others are too busy with the paper, she looks up at Logan, who shrugs.

Summers sounds oddly flat – even for him – as he answers, "Emma Frost. Apparently."

"Do you think her school's going to stay open?" Kitty asks. "Because you know that girl who won the national geography bee it was just totally obvious she couldn't possibly have known all those words and I don't think it's a coincidence that Miss Frost is the headmistress and she has all those telepathic powers and seriously who that isn't evil knows that much about Latveria?"

Storm lays a hand on her shoulder. "Kitty, honey? Give it a rest."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute –" Logan holds up a hand, because if this is true, he doesn't really want to know, he doesn't want to have walked into a bad fantasy novel that badly; but morbid curiosity has turned into a habit since he met these people. "Are you saying there is another school for mutant teenagers, only the headmistress is evil?"

"Yes!" says Kitty firmly.

"No!" says Summers. "I mean, yes. Her methods are different. None of us agree with them, and maybe she's been known to stir up a little trouble but evil is an unnecessarily loaded description. . ."

Over the course of this speech, Storm and Jean have slowly turned to stare at him. Now he trails off, and Storm says, "Scott. What's the rule?"

Summers sighs and raises his right hand as though he's in court. "I am in no way entitled to express any opinions about Emma Frost."

"That's kind of harsh," says Logan, all feigned innocence over barely disguised glee. "What could she possibly have done --?"

Jean tilts her chin and answers smoothly. "It's just that, considering certain history, I am concerned about the origin of said opinions."

"I'm out of here." Summers is on his feet, his back to them. "If you need me, I'm in the garage, working on my bike."

Kitty stage-whispers, for the benefit of a baffled Rogue, "She brainwashed him this one time. It was a love spell."

He whirls back and points at her. "It was not a love spell. You've been watching too much WB."

"And you know too much about what's on those shows," Jean mumbles.

Summers breathes deeply before going on, and he sounds less as though he is explaining the situation for newcomers than repeating a long hashed-over mantra. "There was a single, very brief incident –"

And Kitty – who probably ought to be made aware of Logan's supersensitive hearing, but not any time soon – leans in to Rogue and says, "A brief kissing incident."

" – A single brief incident," Summers repeats, "which occurred in a public place, in the presence of witnesses, and was soon ended –"

Kitty again. "By Jean slapping them both in the face."

"It was no big deal," Summers concludes. "It wasn't even that good of a fantasy. Think about it, as powerful as that woman is, if she had really wanted to start something –"

Jean crosses her arms and stares.

Logan arches an eyebrow. "Is it fun down there, Summers? Digging your own grave?"

Summers shakes his head, and walks away, calling, "I'll be in the garage."

Once he's out of the room, Jean grins. "Ohh, poor Scott." To Logan, she explains, "It really wasn't his fault." Then she picks up the paper and folds it with a snap. "Kitty, do you mind? I think I might just have to frame this."