Title: Emma's problem: Rewritten

Rating: um, I still don't understand the new one sooooo…PG-13.

Summery: Emma flees when she gets some unwelcomed news in her personal life.

Disclaimer: These things make my life hell, you know that? As soon as you put these suckers up you feel sad. You know why? It's because you realize that you don't own them and you wish to hell you did.

I'm beginning to think that the PG-13 is more for my benefit than the stories. Hehe.

Note: I was unhappy with the way I wrote it the first time, so I decided to rewrite it. I'm only putting the first chapter up to see how you like it; so don't be afraid to drop a line.

The first time she threw the figurine, she didn't notice she had picked it up until she heard it crash against her bedroom door. When she threw the second, the third, and the fourth and so on and so on, she knew what she was doing.

When she ran out of knickknacks, she smashed all the mirrors in her room. She started with her vanity mirror, the one she kept hidden in her closet because it seemed too girly, even to her. She then proceeded to smash her dresser mirror, her bathroom mirror and the mirror she had hanging on the wall.

A vague voice in the back of her mind lightly asked why she had so many damn mirrors. A body only needed two, one in the bathroom and one in the bedroom.

"Brennan and I have an announcement to make!" Shalimar all but bounced the words out of her mouth. Brennan stood beside her, an arm draped around her shoulders and a hesitant smile on his face.

Emma could feel the waves of love and excitement and a hell of a lotta lust and apprehension (this was from Bennan only). It came from both of them. And she felt her stomach sink and a greasy ball form in her stomach.

The music of the club that once pleased her mind, now gave her a headache that pounded at her temples and behind her eyes. She quickly grabbed the water glass that had for the past three weeks become her companion.

The doctor told her she had to cut back on caffeine and no alcoholic drinks.

She watched the knowing smile on Adams face, and watched as Jesse's face became a blank mask, and felt him close of his emotions.

Her soul mate in this unknown love triangle. Jesse in love with Shalimar. Emma in love with Brennan. Shalimar in love with Brennan. He in love with her.

A smile split across Shal's pretty flushed face as she spoke the words that she already knew that would come out of her mouth. But still that did not stop the roaring of blood in her head as she felt the waves of happiness drift from her and how her eyes followed the words as they shaped her lips.

She remembered that when she gave her congratulations and made her excuses about a headache from the music, it felt like her body was wading through water.

She avoided Brennan's eyes but she could feel them on her, watching her as she fled the club.

And now, half an hour later, she had successfully destroyed all the knickknacks and cards (and that one bottle of perfume that Bren had bought her because he said it reminded him of her) and pictures of them that Brennan had given her over the past couple of years.

She berated her self, because she knew she had no right to feel this way. What she and Brennan had were two people who could not be as they were with other non-new mutants.

She and Brennan had an…agreement. It started because they knew that when their emotions and passions were high, they had little control over their mutations. But for the last six months into the first year of their agreement, Emma fell in love with him.

'Not part of the agreement.' She told herself angrily as she roughly kicked the glossy glass pieces that once formed the shape of Buddha.

She dragged a suitcase from inside her closet and threw it on the bed and began cleaning out the top drawer. Bras, panties, socks, nightclothes, she threw them into the suitcase without folding and made her way down to the second drawer. And her mind continued to swirl and be chaotic.

She had packed nearly all her clothes into four suitcases and gathered all her make up and brushes and shampoos and cream rinse shoved them into an overnight bag and loaded them into a car.

By the time she closed the trunk her anger had left her, leaving her tired, and with an even worse headache, and so unbearably sad.

She buckled herself into the car and picked up her cell and dialed a number that she had known nearly all her life. A quick conversation and a few tears shed, she end the call and pulled out of the garage.

She then made another. She gave the airline the name of the ID that she had stolen (one of many that she had stolen), one that she had been working on for another new mutant in need of safety.

Her own picture was yet to be in it, but she figured she could work a little mojo on them while she waited. She figured that she could work on it while she waited for her plane to board.

So…what do you think?