Same apartment.
Same time.
“Er…” Greg immediately walked his statement back. “I mean, in the future. The far future, you know, once everything is stable and we’ve accomplished what we need to accomplish… you know?”
“Greg.” Jean’s tone flattened, her features locking into a deadpan stare. “If there is one thing I have learned about this world, it is that it will never fully be stable… and even if we accomplish the things we’re working on now… that will just give us new goals for the future.”
“Well… I mean, that’s correct, but…”
“Nope, shut up, my turn to talk now,” Jean put her finger on Greg’s lips. “If there is one thing that I’ve always dreamed of… it was being a mother. This has been true as far back as I can remember, and even the dark Phoenix awakening didn’t change that. I’ve wanted to be a mother since before I awakened as a mutant, even before Charles, Scott, and this mystery cloning facility tried to take my agency. I don’t want you thinking that this is because of that.
“The whole point of feminism was so that women would be able to follow their desires… not shoehorn them into traditionally male roles in this garbage post-capitalist society. One of my oldest and strongest dreams has always been to be a mother.”
Greg raised his hand with an anxious expression, and Jean removed her finger.
“I can understand your position, dear, and I’m fully supportive… but, I don’t know if I’m ready… I mean, what kind of parent would I be? I can barely pull my attention from my studies as it is… wouldn’t that…”
“Hush, dear,” Jean put her finger back on Greg’s lips, “You would be an amazing father… and you are more than ready. You’re letting your anxiety and past trauma dictate your life. You won’t be your mother… or your father.”
“I’ll have you know,” Gregory huffed, tearing his mouth away. “My mother was an amazing woman. She raised me alone when my sperm donor betrayed her, and she…”
“Your father chose the opposite side in a war and died before you could meet him,” Jean interrupted, placing her finger firmly back on Greg’s mouth, “And your Mother… was an amazing woman. She was brilliant, determined, and driven. She was NOT…”
Jean paused and gave Greg a stern look.
“...and I need to stress this… She was NOT a good mother.”
Jean quickly put her hand up to forestall the diatribe that was already forming on Greg’s face.
“Greg, you need to let me finish. I’ve seen the inside of your mind, I know your history. You need an outsider’s perspective on this. Serafall agrees with me…”
“Of course you’ve been talking to Auntie Sera…”
“Hush, Greg… Sera was your mother’s lover. She saw how you were raised. She spoke with your mother about her motivations multiple times, and she agrees with me 100%. Your mother was more obsessed with you than you are with her… and it was not a healthy obsession at all. Your mother treated you more like a weapon to be groomed and a potential breeding partner than like a child that she loved.”
The sullen, rebellious look on Greg’s face faded into a resigned sigh.
“Fine,” Greg answered after a few minutes of silence. “Sure, she wasn’t the best mother, but there was a war going on, and she did what she thought was best. You’re not going to make me respect her less.”
“Greg,” Jean said with emphasis. “Your mother told Serafall that she secured the arranged marriage because your combined genes would make an unstoppable monster. Sera’s sexuality was a non-issue with your mother... she's hopelessly gay, with zero physical attraction to you by the way.”
“Do you know what your mother said to her when Sera brought it up?” Jean waited for the sullen shake of Greg’s head before continuing. “She said ‘It’s fine, you can just bend over and think of it like adding a sex toy to our relationship. I can join in if it makes you more comfortable.’”
“Can you imagine how that made your fiance feel? To have the godson that she loved and helped raise being reduced to a sex toy used to breed a super-devil? This kind of attitude toward relationships was one of the reasons her people were fighting the civil war in the first place.”
Greg sat still with a defeated expression, a slow shake of his head the only response.
“Greg, I’m not trying to make you hate your mom,” Jean said, her voice careful and kind, “I just want to give you another perspective on this, and I want you to know that I know that you will be a better father than either of your parents ever will. Do you understand?”
Greg nodded, though his lips remained in a stubborn pout.
“Good,” Jean said, petting her boyfriend’s head. “Now, since we have that out of the way… I’ve been talking to Serafall about the logistics. If we’re planning to have children in our family before the century ends, when are you planning to take a few more wives?”
“Oh,” Greg huffed, pulling his mouth away from her finger. “Now I know you’ve been talking to Serafall.”
“Greg!” Jean’s frustration finally boiled over, “It’s the TRUTH!”
She caught herself, taking a deep breath to calm her voice before continuing.
“Look, let's look at the actual math here, since that's the only language you seem to understand. Yes, I'm always 'fertile' now. Yay for being a devil. But our conception chances are so microscopically low that you and I would have to have sex four times a night, every single night, just to have a decent shot at a baby in the next ten years. We could get lucky, sure, but I don’t want my lifelong dream of being a mother to depend on a lottery ticket.”
“I’m quite aware of the logistical and biological realities that led to my culture’s dependence on polygyny,” Greg answered testily. “But I’m prepared for the alternative. You know I can perform if that's what it takes.”
“Greg,” Jean scolded, her voice dropping into a sharp, maternal tone. “You understand the numbers, but you don’t get it. Let’s leave aside how fast we'd start hating each other if we treated sex like a shift-job we have to punch into four times a night... Do you really think my body can handle that kind of grueling schedule? Because I can't."
“I understand,” he finally answered. “But you have to understand where I’m coming from, dear. Before I met you, I was convinced I was aromantic… borderline asexual, even. My mind was always entirely focused on my magic, and now my technology studies. To me, romance seemed boring and pointless. Sex wasn't much better. Sure, I had the biological urges, but why would I waste the energy hunting down a partner when I could just take care of it myself and get back to work?”
Jean looked a bit miffed at the clinical description of his past sex life... though Greg quickly caught himself and reached for her hand.
“You’ve opened my eyes, love. I don’t think that way anymore. It turns out I am firmly a Jean-o-sexual... without a shadow of a doubt. I just never knew it was possible before I met you. But looking at it from my perspective... Can you blame me for being reluctant?”
Jean nodded, wiped tears from her eyes, and then broke the silence.
“I’m not asking you to suddenly start acting like a hornball toward all of our female friends, Greg. I do that enough for both of us. I just want you to keep an open mind. Start thinking of these girls as more than just ‘people that show up in our living room sometimes.’ Be a little less distant, and maybe start to build some emotional connections.
“I don’t want babies immediately, but I would like to have a decent chance of having a couple of little ones running around before the end of the next decade. Can you do that for me?”
Greg nodded, appearing ready to agree, when the shrill ring of his Nokia shattered the silence. He answered, replying mostly with quiet nods and grunted affirmations before pressing a button to kill the connection and setting the device aside.
“Who the hell is calling this late at night?” Jean asked.
“That was Mr. Brooks," Greg said, sighing. "Apparently a lot of things have happened in the past few days, and he needs our help.”
“Oh.” Jean waited for a beat. “Are you going to elaborate, or just expect me to accept that an edgy vampire hunter wants to kidnap my boyfriend right as I was about to propose we start working on making my dreams come true?”
Greg rubbed his temples before continuing.
“Old man Whistler was infected by a vampire, and will likely change before the end of the night. The hematologist, Karen, has a cure, but Deacon Frost has… surprise, surprise… kidnapped her. There was also some vague mention of an ancient ritual requiring Elsa’s bloodstone amulet. I need to collect her before we meet up, as I am quite certain she will want that back.”
“I suppose that’s a decent enough excuse, but you’re on notice, mister. I expect you to make it up to me.”
An Underground Archive in New York
A few hours later.
A large black man leapt from a ledge into the center of a large indoor arena, tumbling through a full front flip before landing in the classic superhero pose.
“Frooooost!” Blade yelled.
Three other figures, a male and two females, stood back on the ledge with a much less hurried demeanor. One of them, the male figure, made a quick gesture with his left hand and a small circle with esoteric runes appeared. A similar circle appeared in the air near the ledge, and the three figures stepped onto it as it started drifting slowly toward the ground.
“Blade!” yelled the familiar blonde female vampire... the one who had made an incredibly plot-convenient escape during the blood rave... as the man landed.
“Don’t kill him!” shouted the blonde vampire with a beard... the one who was last seen as a crispy corpse in a morgue... as he lazily juggled a small knife. “Wait. I owe you, man. I got two new hands, Blade... I don’t know which one to use to kill you with.”
The bearded vampire yelled and rushed forward, prompting Eric to pull the handle of a device on his belt. As the vampire closed the distance, Eric stepped aside, yanking the mechanism to intercept the charge with a taut length of silver wire. The man’s head flew off. As it fell, his entire body instantly disintegrated into ash... without even taking the time to bleed.
“You know,” Gregory interjected as his spell circle finally touched the ground, “If you had done that the other night, it would likely have saved you a lot of trouble.”
“Why are you here?” Gregory turned to the pink-clad bundle of energy staring with glee at the events in front of her.
“Come on,” Gwen scoffed, “do you really think I’ll miss the final boss scene? I promise, I won’t derail the plot. You’ll barely even notice I’m here.”
Greg looked at Elsa for backup.
“Don’t look at me, Love,” Elsa shrugged while replying, “I’ve known her for two whole days and I already know not to try controlling her.”
“Fine,” Greg said as he pinched his brow, “But stay in the back. Let Mr. Brooks take care of this.”
The vampire’s clothes went up in smoke with him... all except a narrow pair of sunglasses. Blade released the spring-loaded wire, sending it back into his utility belt, and caught the tumbling lenses as they fell.
“Ooh, here’s where the sweet drum & bass track kicks in,” whispered Gwen to Elsa.
“You really are,” Eric began, carefully placing the sunglasses over his own eyes with both hands before turning back to stare at Greg. “An insufferable asshole, aren’t you?”
A vampire in the classic uniform of black track suit, black beanie, and sunglasses charged into the center of the room. Eric simply kicked the man, sending his assailant flying across the room to strike the arena wall. Another man in similar garb swiftly rushed him, but Eric dropped into a sweeping leg kick, stomping the man's chest before turning to yell.
“Frost!” Eric growled as similarly dressed vampires entered the room and began circling him.
“You’re not even killing them now,” Greg mumbled, “You had no problem chopping the first one’s head off. Why the judo display now? Did you run out of wire?”
“If he was killing them it’d be too quick?” Gwen waved her hand as she interjected, “I mean, it’s clearly the same four guys lining up to fight him one by one. He kicks one to the side, and the guy calmly gets up to head to the back of the line.”
“Gwen, there are clearly thirty vampires in this room,” Greg said as he stared at the girl in pink, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You have your facts,” Gwen answered smugly, “I have alternative facts. I mean, that’s the whole point of the ‘generic mook uniform,’ so you don’t realize he’s only beating up four guys.”
The vampire on the ground stood up and grabbed Eric's shoulder, but the vampire hunter simply swatted him away, completely ignoring Greg's feelings, and casually backhanded the one he'd kicked earlier. A third vampire charged in screaming, and Eric met that one with a leaping jump kick.
A familiar woman stood nervously on the ledge above, and Greg turned to wave at her.
“Hello, Karen,” Greg said with a cheery tone. “Why are you hanging out up there, do you need a lift?”
“Shouldn’t you be a little more…” Karen suddenly seemed at a loss for words as the sounds of Eric beating several vampires reached her perch. “I don’t know, like, worried or something.”
“Oh, ignore him,” Gwen waved her hand as she interjected, “Greg is worthless when it comes to this kind of thing. No sense of tension whatsoever.”
“I’ll save my tension,” Greg scoffed, “for when an enemy is actually a threat.”
Elsa sighed at the two’s antics, leaned against the wall, and yawned as another three identically dressed thugs charged at Eric in a convenient line.
Eric met the first by ducking into the charge, and then unceremoniously dumped the vampire over his back. The second was met with a series of blocked strikes and counterstrikes while the third vampire danced behind him, presumably waiting for an opening… though the room was rather large, and there seemed to be plenty of room to maneuver.
Eric finished off (but not really) the second vampire with a strike to the chest that was forceful enough to flip the man awkwardly on his back, and the third assailant took the opportunity to charge. Eric simply kicked the man in the face, and then the stomach, causing the vampire’s sunglasses to clatter on the ground. Rather than finish the man off, Eric simply shoved him disdainfully to the side and moved toward a nearby hallway.
“Oh noes,” Greg muttered with a deadpan tone. “He lost his vampire sunglasses, now he’ll never be able to see in this dim underground chamber. Oh, the humanity.”
“Bob,” Gwen said, looking at the man that’d just lost his glasses. “No wonder he didn’t kill you. He probably recognized you weren’t a vampire. How have you been?”
“Oh, hey Gwen, hey Greg,” Bob picked his sunglasses back up and went to stand over with the group. “Just trying to coast my way through the last few days here until my two weeks are up. Didn’t think I’d run into you guys again.”
A screaming, clean-shaven vampire charged at Eric, and the vampire hunter caught him with a strike to the throat. He ripped… something… off with an audible ‘crack’ and tossed it at another vampire charging in after him, following up with a swift backhand that sent the man to the ground.
A third and fourth vampire approached him, one behind the other as usual. Eric punched the first in the gut, sending the man into a crouch in pain, and used a high kick to knock the other to the side.
“Bob,” Greg said with a scolding tone, “I really thought you were done with these people after the nightclub. Why are you here now?”
“Oh, well excuse me Greg,” Bob huffed and crossed his arms, “Not all of us are billionaires. Some of us need the paycheck.”
“Fair point,” Greg said, “Why don’t you apply at my company? I’m sure Liz can find a spot for you.”
“Really?” Bob asked, a brief hope lighting up his expression, “You guys are hiring minions at your company?”
“Eh, I suppose not. Do you have any other skills? Education? Anything?”
“I have a bachelors with a double major in philosophy and English, with a master’s degree in gender studies.”
“Ah, well,” Greg answered sheepishly, “I suppose minioning is the only line of work you have available, isn’t it?”
“I mean, I have all of these years of experience,” Bob answered dejectedly, “I’d hate to have to start an entirely new career. I appreciate the offer though, I’d feel bad if you hired me just because you knew me.”
A tick started forming on Elsa's left eyebrow as she watched Bob, Gwen, and Greg have a casual conversation while her ally Blade was tearing through ranks of undead henchmen. She gave off an obviously fake yawn, reached her arm behind her back, and unhooked one of her shotguns.
Eric kicked another vampire minion off to the side, and Elsa coughed as she pulled the trigger to the weapon.
“Oops,” she said as the vampire crumbled to ash.
“Elsa,” Greg said, eyes popping open with shock, “Did you just…”
“Oh, lookie there,” Elsa said with a deadpan voice. “Looks like I accidentally shot that vampire. What a shame.”
“No, I mean,” Greg stopped and shook his head. “You’re not feeling emotionally drained? Starting to feel… a little catatonic or whatever?”
“Feel right as rain, chap,” Elsa answered.
“Oh snap,” Gwen shouted in a low voice, “Did she just wreck your whole magicky contract system, or was that foreshadowed somewhere. Let me check.”
The arena echoed with the sounds of Blade aggressively snapping a vampire's collarbone while Gwen silently scrolled through several paragraphs of text on her phone. She snapped her fingers.
“Yup, foreshadowed in Chapter 19. Sweet, I almost didn’t catch that. Wait, did you really write a whole 4 page conflict between Emma and Jean so you could foreshadow this entire thing? Well played Bob!”
“Huh,” Bob turned to Gwen, confused, “What did I do?”
“Not you Bob,” Gwen answered, “Bob the author. You really don’t pay attention, do you?”