Warren Worthington had left the X-Men almost a year ago. His father was stepping down from Worthington Industries and wanted his only son to take over his legacy. At first Warren had refused, but Elizabeth Braddock (otherwise known as Psylocke) had had enough of the X-Men. Their last mission in Biloxi had triggered a psychic link with Jean Grey that she hadn’t wanted.

All attempts by the professor to sever the psychic link had been unpleasant, to say the least. The terrible headaches were agonizingly painful. After numerous failed attempts, Betsy thought that maybe with time and plenty of distance, it might fade away or be weak enough to completely sever without excruciating pain. Besides the fact that she’d gotten a good look at what the real Jean Grey was. Just the thought of her made her cringe; the woman was the devil himself in red dress. The further away from her, the better.

Warren had decided he could help the mutant community much more with his money. The decision made, his girlfriend couldn’t have been happier. They were set to start a new life in the sunny state of California.
Emma had also gone with them, but for different reasons. She was hopelessly in love with Scott Summers, who was engaged to the pristine Jean Grey.

Emma and Scott had become closer than ever while she’d been recovering. Of course, that caused many fights between Scott and Jean. The bond that had always been present between them since childhood, had only grown stronger. It took them both by surprise at just how easy it was to be around each other.

She was torn as to how to move forward. Staying at the mansion meant playing second fiddle to Jean, and leaving meant giving up on perhaps a “happily ever after”.
Scott came to her that night and begged her to stay. She couldn’t pinpoint when a friendly hug turned into a tender caress, turned into a passionate night. It was almost like so many years hadn’t passed between them. The next morning she was gone, before Scott even woke up.

Of course, just like in the movies, he’d left her with a parting gift, the kind that keeps on giving. So here she was a year later working with Warren and being a single mother to a beautiful blue-eyed baby boy, whom she’d named Alexander Summers.

Motherhood has been completely unexpected but she’d never felt better. It had been her calling in life. The only reason she was currently at the charity event was Warren had begged her to please make a quick appearance and she could leave. Of course, he’d conveniently neglected to inform her the X-Men were playing security detail.

Emma silently cursed in her thick British accent that not even the many years in New York had been able to cure her of, as she caught a glimpse of the one person she hoped she wouldn’t ever see again: Scott, who happened to catch her eye and was making his way toward her through the crowded lounge. Unable to hold his ruby-tinted gaze any longer, Emma abruptly turned and ducked out, hoping to sneak away. Had Scott been more aware of his surrounding he’d have noticed the brunette with startling green eyes he’d nearly run down in his attempt to get to Emma.

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Jessie was flirting with Cameron Hodge when a tall man bumped into her, causing her to drop her champagne flute. She’d barely caught a look at the man who’d stuttered an apology and hurried away, not bothering to even look back.

“Are you alright, Ms. Walker?” Cameron leered at Jessie, as she bent down to pick up the flute.

Jessie stood up and was staring at the retreating man’s head. The swift brush with the stranger had given her an eerie feeling. The feeling was just out of reach. She couldn’t put a name to it, but it was almost familiar.

“I’m fine.”

Shrugging it off, she turned to Cameron who was currently guiding her to another room where the music was playing.

“Shall we?”

“Of course.”

Jessie was completely off her game. She could feel eyes staring at the back of her head as Cameron led her across to the adjoining room, which was currently filling up with other dancing couples. A strange dizziness was starting to cloud her head.

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Wolverine tugged at the tie on the suit, as he not so silently cursed Angel for the formal attire. Not that this was the first time he wore one, he just could never get used to the penguin suit that felt more like a straight jacket to him. He needed some air; all the different scents combined with the straight jacket were messing with his perception. He could have sworn there was that hint of vanilla/honey musk in the air that belonged to only one person. Using the com-link, he let Cyclops know he was going to patrol the outside.

“Cyclops, come in.” No response. Shrugging to himself, he was about to head out when the click of glass and the voice of Cyclops caught his ear. Turning his head, he watched Cyclops dashing after a very fleeing Emma Frost. He was tempted to follow, just to see the fallout, when a voice drifted to his ears. Abruptly turning, all he saw was the back of a woman being led off by Warren’s right hand man.

Long after she’d vanished into the crowd, he expelled the breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. Closing his eyes, he swallowed past the lump in his throat, trying to keep his ghosts buried. When he opened his hazel eyes, all he saw was a crowded hall. He frowned and walked out through the patio doors, muttering to himself, “You're hearing things, old man.”

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