A.N.: Hey guys! So I'm writing this about what happens when Trevor Fitzroy, a time-port hole creating mutant attacks Scott and Emma in an AU reality where they are grown adults, and somehow transports them back into another universe like the Evo one! What happens when there was no Emma Frost in Bayville at the time? Who was she? And how does this affect the Evo Scott's life? Check it out and don't forget to review!
Rights and characters belong to Marvel, DUH!
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Since college, Emma knew that she liked being up before the other in a one night stand or overnight incident.
This has not changed and since then, she has always been the first one awake and often gone before the other woke up.
The one thing she hated most about Summers' ruby sleeping mask was that she could hardly tell if he was awake.
As the White Queen watched Cyclops sleeping soundly, with a boyishly serious scowl on his face, his subconscious warm and soft thoughts about her seemed to drip down her body as she fit herself snugly into his sleeping mind just as snugly as she fit her body into his tightened arms and against his smooth taut chest and hard stomach.
Gently shifting her weight onto her hand to prop herself up in a sitting position, the platinum blonde vaguely regarded the gorgeous naked man in bed with her, who was fast asleep.
In the dim glow of dawn, she could see he was awake by the red glow that would suddenly flash through his previusly dark ruby visor.
On account of her anxiety-ridden mind, Emma did not pay attention to this slight detail on the sleeping man.
Untangling herself from his muscled slim arms, she slid out from underneath Egyptian cotton sheets, which glided smoothly against her skin.
Just as her nimble toes were about to touch the hard and unearthly cold wood floor, a warmth hit her slender waist and a sleepily sturdy grasp brought her back underneath the Egyptian sheets where she had found Nirvana and a slice of paradise last night.
The grown man with tousled brown hair wrapped himself around her and held her firmly to him, nestling his face between her shoulder and neck, grunting drowsily as he did so. His slight stubble rubbed her delicate collarbone and his soft clean hair tickled her peachy cheek.
He heaved once and finally sank into a heavy slumber, and despite her own motive to leave before morning, Emma felt her body relax in the coziness.
Later, fully dressed although barely, and habitually busy. The contrite platinum blonde sat at her magnificent polished desk at Frost Enterprises and set down her work files. Her thoughts flew to the man who refused to leave her no matter how cold-hearted she had been, and seemed to have a strange adoration for her. She could not explain how he kept her in bed and as she thought about him, her body crystallized and a 4 karat tear-shaped diamond fell from her sparkling eye.
Goodness, she needed a drink.
At Biltemore bar, Emma liked to sit straight-up at the bar, and as per usual as she looked down through the Vermouth of her glass, a drink appeared on a tray held by a gloved hand. "Compliments of the man over there." As per usual, Emma raised her hand languidly, raising the drink, not really caring whether or not "the man over there" caught her gesture of gratitude. However, a glint from the gold drink in her hand caught her eye, as it was a hue of gold that could only come from her favorite champagne drink, one that nobody knew to order for her. In curiosity, the white queen tilted her head from the bar to check out who had sent her the drink.
A flash of red caught her eye from the ruby sunglasses on a tall man leaning on a well-decorated wall opposite her. His unbelievably pearly white smile infuriated her and as she sipped her drink, she found herself striding to him.
Flinging her hand up, the champagne flung from the glass to his face and dripped down his black sweater.
Willing his smile to be wiped off, Emma seethed, "What is the matter with you? You're acting like a hormonal teenage boy! Have we a stalker scenario fetish now Mr. Summers?"
Faced with his insolent smile still, the blonde tried a different tactic and tip toed to kiss him on the lips sultrily.
After a long moment, she drew back slightly breathless and without knowing what else to say, murmured, "You taste like my favorite drink."
To her disappointment, Summers had an even bigger grin and would not stop grinning, maybe it was the few sips of champagne Emma had had prior to this confrontation, but the white queen felt a bubbly giddiness well up over her anger and Emma found herself really smiling back now and let him clasp her slender waist and draw her towards him in another mimosa-soaked kiss.
It was dark out when they exited the hotel bar, walking side by side, with Emma leaning into Scott and his arm around her.
They walked through a park with paths puffy from undisturbed and freshly fallen snow, lined with trees with Christmas light spiraling down their trunks and snow-coated branches.
A white plaid Burberry scarf customized for her white snow jacket and cashmere beanie was wrapped thickly around her neck anc face up to the bridge of her pert cold-pinkened nose. It matched Scott's deep tan plaid Burberry scarf, the original men's color, which Emma had gifted him for that very purpose, and which Scott wore dutifully and beautifully.
They stopped underneath a glittering tree and Scott, facing Emma, gently lowered her scarf, unwrapping it from her face and cupping her face, leaned down to kiss her slowly.
Emma's mouth melted and she pulled his face closer to hers by grabbing the back of his neck with a mittened hand.
Between a puff of cold steam from their breaths in the cold air, Scott asked half-jokingly, "Is this a bad time to say I love you?"
Emma's cold blue eyes stared up at his red ones and she stammered, "I-."
In an instant, a blindingly bright purple static seemed to shoot in between the two, tearing them apart.
Scott fell back into the snow and looked up just in time to see a man with a shaved head besides a lock of hair over his forehead, grabbing Emma from behind, with a hand in the air that was enshrouded in some purple energy.
Scott sprang up on his feet immediately and without thinking, lowered his sunglasses and shot a brilliant red beam at the man's face, causing him to let go of Emma who stumbled forward into Scott's arms.
Emma crystallized and muttered, "Trevor Fitzroy. In the flesh."
The man advanced, with his hand still covered in purple static, "Cyclops and Miss Frost! What a fine evening to cahort and whatnot. What a fine evening for me to ruin!"
"Emma watch out!"
Scott dove in the way of Trevor's purple fist to Emma, who jumped back immediately, as the blazing fist came crashing down on Cyclops' chest.
Emma watched in horror as a hole lined in the purple energy bore into Scott's chest and she was running towards Fitzroy, blazing rage consuming her diamond interior.
She smoothly tackled him down over Scott, and the last thing to fill her vision was a purple light flashing all about her.
Blinking through thick red ruby lenses, Scott mumbled thickly and sat up, noticing that he had been on his back on the grass.
The grass... Scott ran his hand frantically over the grass to feel it's green freshness, completely dry and cool to lie on. He looked around, the trees were not coated in snow, in fact they were full leaved, beautiful in their red and yellow glory. Was it fall? Was he still in the park?
He recalled like a dream hitting him as soon as he wakens, being in the park in the snow with Emma.
Emma, where was she?
Scott heard voices in the distance, but he only wanted to hear one.
Reacting reflexively, Scott crawled up on his hands and knees, and glanced down fleetingly to see a purple sweater. Which meant he was wearing a blue sweater. Didn't he wear a black one this morning?
Scott felt a fear nag at him as he thought hard but could not feel the comfort and assurance of Emma in his mind. Her mind was blank then.
Crawling around hurriedly, Scott spotted something near to him.
He scrambled to the side of a girl sitting dumbfoundedly in the grass with her hands folded in her lap.
He hugged her close and whispered, "Emma, oh Emma."
She hugged back and he looked at her, knowing it was her but not the Emma he knew.
This one looked at his sunglasses in horror, at her reflection, seeing the brown stiraght hair clipped back with a pin and a preppy sky blue cashmere sweater on over a white collared shirt, and a gray pencil skirt on with feet tucked into black Mary Janes and knee-high socks.
This was definitely not the same woman that Scott had just been kissing. For one, she was not a woman yet, she looked to be about seventeen years old.
Emma gaped, "I-it's m-me. I-I'm...hideous!"
Scott smiled knowingly and kissed her on the lips gently, "No, you're beautiful. As always." He cradled the young girl in his arms and did not question events, just glad that she was here and alive even if she was several years younger. Instead of wondering, Scott felt a vigor that not only matched his usual stamina and urges, but seemed to overwhelm him, and in his happiness of finding her alive, began to kiss Emma's neck vigorously.
The girl shook her head, "Scott! Have y-you seen yourself? Y-you're-."
"Scott!"
Having heard his name, Scott swiveled his head, unsticking himself from Emma's neck and frowned at the sight of a girl standing on a hill looking down at him with long red hair twisting down her back, a tiny lavendar sweater on, and flared khaki pants. Besides her, was a distraught looking short hairy man in a wife beater.
Scott stared at them and they stared back disbelievingly. The redhead spoke, "Who is she?"
Cyclops stood up and helped Emma up, finding her to be only about two inches shorter than him.
When he replied, he was surprised at how young and high his voice sounded, "Are you...Jean?"
The burly short man next to Jean snorted, "Good one Slim, really get yourself outta this one."
The girl called Jean screamed out and widened her eyes with a hand over her mouth and the other pointing at Scott, "Scott your pants!"
Scott looked down and flushed at the large sign of arousal in his khaki jeans that he had not even noticed. He felt embarassment heat up and he snarled, "Well that's what happens when you bust in on me getting it on with my girl!"
Scott flinched, where was this sudden rush of snideness coming from? He definitely would not just say things like that.
Jean dropped her hand from her mouth and stuttered, "W-what? Your GIRL? Scott...what the hell is going on with you."
Scott felt Emma sidle up against him and protectively put a strong arm around her, "J-Jean or whoever you are, read our minds, we don't know where we are we need help."
The young Jean Grey looked offended, and even less kindly at the young Emma Frost.
It was not until Jean had read their minds, astounded, and wordlessly tossed a compact mirror to Scott who saw his reflection and thus fainted.
A.N.: Be kind REVIEW! Pleeeease thanks! Have a great day!