"You want me to use you?" Scott growled.
"Absolutely, darling. As only you can."
Scott reached up to take down the showerhead from its mount, running the spraying water over both himself and Emma to rinse off the soap suds they'd left on each other's body. Normally, he'd use shampoo, but he'd been told that at least once a week, it was best to do without.
He gently prodded at Emma's body, making her turn around to let him wash her off, and noticed that she went along with his touch eagerly. Then he replaced the showerhead and shut off the tap.
"Come with me," he said, picking up his towel and quickly drying himself off.
"I hope to," Emma quipped, picking up her own towel and daubing it over her body.
This was usually the part where he would shave, but he could put up with a little stubble for the rest of the day. Between Kurt, Hank, and Logan, he doubted anyone would begrudge him some facial hair. Scott put his visor back on and dressed hurriedly, trying not to glance at Emma as he did. One wrong look and it would be impossible to fit into his pants.
"Getting dressed?" Emma asked. "That's not the direction I hoped this was going in."
"You don't have to," Scott told her.
Emma preened at herself in the mirror. No one knew how perfect she looked better than her. "You're right. I don't."
Scott dressed simply. White tee, brown twill utility jacket, slacks, white socks, trainers. Emma made no move to dress herself, instead combing her hair and applying make-up. It took surprisingly little time. Then he put his hand on her upper arm and led her out into the living room of his quarters. He pushed her down to her knees.
"On all fours," he told her, and Emma willingly finished lowering herself to the floor.
"Is this where you use me?" she asked him. "Right here? On the floor?"
"Yes, Emma." Scott sat down in the easy chair beside her, putting his feet up onto her naked back. "That's exactly where I want you."
Emma simmered, already grinding her teeth, but before she could say anything, Betsy came in from the kitchen. She wore only a tea apron around her waist, while holding up a breakfast tray in front of her chest. Otherwise, she was completely naked.
This,
Scott told himself,
is getting ridiculous.
"A proper English breakfast for a proper gentleman," Betsy chirped. "And, when you're through being a gentleman..." She noticed Emma literally under Scott's feet. "Oh. And people say you don't know how to relax." She tittered. "You're very good for him, Emma. Before you, I don't think Scott knew how to put his feet up..."
"Enough," Scott enunciated firmly. "Could one of you connect me to the conference?"
"I would be happy to, my dove," Betsy said, coming over to sit on the armrest of Scott's chair. She held the breakfast tray out to him. "Here. Eat. You need to keep your strength up."
"Why?" Emma groused. "He doesn't seem to be using it..."
***
Cable was running Cerebro, connecting the minds of various X-Men team leaders into one meeting regardless of physical location. He set it in a desert, though thankfully he left the environment only visual. Scott didn't feel any of its heat or dryness as he manifested there, wearing his Cyclops costume as a matter of form. The others were also in uniform: Wolverine, Beast, Banshee, Forge, Iceman, Nightcrawler, and Emma, who left no way of knowing that she was in reality naked, crouched on the ground as Scott's footrest.
Scott noted that neither Jean or Storm were present. It wasn't uncommon for an X-Man to miss this psychic check-in, but neither of the women were on assignment, and it wasn't like either of them to not show up. Scott could only console himself by thinking that if something were the matter, he didn't know anyone better able to handle themselves than the two of them.
Betsy appeared last, though not in the abbreviated costume that'd gotten her so much of Scott's attention over the years. Instead, she wore high-waisted white dress pants and a white blazer, with no shirt underneath. Unbuttoned at the top and bottom, the jacket exposed her belly button and much of her cleavage.
"Isn't that one of my outfits?" Emma asked, crossing her arms—again, showing no sign that she was in the middle of a submissive sex game with Scott.
"Maybe we should learn to share," Betsy said, herself giving no hint that she and Emma were really in the same room, with only one small apron as clothing between them.
Mentally Scott cleared his throat, though physically he was going through the motions of eating breakfast—managing the two layers of reality at this point like walking and chewing gum at the same time to him. "Emma, I think Betsy can wear what she likes, considering it is only a mental projection."
Emma pursed her lips in a pout. "Perhaps. I just think it a shame that such a lovely girl wears something that looks better on me."
"I'll try not to wear anything that looks better on you then," Betsy fired right back.
In the real world, Scott reached out and petted Betsy's thigh soothingly. "Let's focus on the issue at hand. Slow news day for the X-Men, which is a good day, but Alex has brought something to my attention that I want to stay on top of..."
As he ate in reality, his personage on the astral plane filled in the team on all that had happened with Alex and Lorna, gauging the X-Men's reactions while he did. If someone were overly upset, it could speak to a personal issue. As would someone being unconcerned. But everyone seemed to be feeling about the right amount of offense at one of their own being victimized. Not enough to fly off the handle and make the situation worse, but definitely appreciating the gravity of the situation. He could rely on any of them to have his back if they were needed.
"Think we'll need the whole team for this, one-eye?" Logan asked, half-joking.
"No need for a full-court press just yet. I wouldn't want to escalate the situation."
"If they're going after the family of the leader of the X-Men, that's plenty escalation already. We don't respond, we look weak."
"And how do we look if we send a death squad in there to stomp around like the Punisher?" Scott shook his head. "I'll go. It's a personal matter, I should handle it."
