The same mansion.
About four awkward seconds later.
“Eh… hehe,” the young man shifted, embarrassed by Jean’s statement, “Funny you should say that…”
“Wait, really?” Jean asked, flabbergasted at the admission, “I was joking… are you telling me…”
“Well, I mean, technically…” the boy interrupted quickly, his tone rising as he rushed to explain further, “I believe my people refer to their peerage as servants, not… you know. Yes, theoretically they must follow the orders of their ‘King’. But! I am willing to sign any binding contract you wish, terms completely negotiable, it would be a standard employment contract, just one that was strictly speaking… just a little… eternal. Think of it more like a contract of vassalage rather than… eh… the other thing.”
“Really, Gregory,” Xavier came as close to shouting as he’d done so far, “Eternal servitude? I think it might have been important to mention that in the beginning.”
“Ah think it’s kinda hot,” Anna nudged Kitty, her voice barely audible, “I mean, it’s like that Fifty Shades of Grey book, but supernatural like.”
“I mean, yeah,” she whispered back, “But like, fantasy is fantasy, reality is reality. Would you really do it?”
“I mean, shugah, you ain’t got my powahs. With what I got, I’m lookin’ at life as a crazy cat lady that can’t even pet her cats. You might see it differently if you was in mah shoes. At least he don’t seem like a creep about it.”
“Fair.”
“Honestly Professor,” the young man said with an annoyed tone, “I didn’t design the damn chess pieces. My people are very strict on power and hierarchy, in a lot of ways they’re still stuck in the middle ages, and they’re not too keen on the concept of informed consent. This is why I’m taking the time to explain.”
“I understand it’s your culture, Greg,” Ororo interjected, “But it seems a bit… problematic, doesn’t it? I mean, magically enforced eternal servitude?”
“Eh?” Greg started, confused at the assertion, “What do you mean magically enforced? How the hell would that even work? Would the ritual somehow scan the subject’s mind and punish ‘disloyal’ thoughts? Would we be punishing ‘thought crimes’ instead of actions? If not, how would the ritual differentiate between loyal actions taken with ‘disloyal intent’ and disloyal actions taken with ‘loyal intent’? The specifications of such a ritual… and the runic programming involved in such a spell… well, Miss Monroe, I’m a magician, not a miracle worker.
“No, Miss Monroe, the required vow of vassalage is legally and socially enforced. I mean, my culture is currently located in a completely inaccessible universe, and chances of actual enforcement are minimal at best… but the principle remains. I would not expect Miss Grey to make a legally and socially binding vow without understanding the implications…”
“You know what, fuck it, I’m in,” Jean suddenly shouted, interrupting all of the ongoing debate, “But we’re going to spend a long time going over these ‘terms of employment’ you were talking about before I accept anything.”
“Jean, no!” Scott cried, “What about us? We were going to get married and have three children! I love you!”
“You don’t love me, you just loved that I was the only girl you knew that would put up with your self-righteous controlling bullshit. I’m done with this place, and all of these people. Gregory, lets fuck off.”
Jean stopped a bit, blushed apologetically, and turned back to her former friends.
“Sorry, except you Anna, and Ororo… oh, and Kitty… Logan and Hank, you’re alright I guess as well. Oh, and Kurt and Piotr were amazing, you can let them know once you dig them back up. But everyone else can fuck off as far as I’m concerned.”
“Oh, I am here Jean,” a muffled voice with a thick German accent interrupted from below some rubble, “Sank you for your kind vords. And no hurry about getting me free anytime soon, guys, it’s nice and cool in here, und I prefer ze shade. Plus I don’t vish to be rude or anysing.”
“I am here also Comrade sister,” a deep voice with a thick Russian accent answered as well, followed by the sounds of rubble shifting, “I was listening, but I did not feel I had anything meaningful to contribute. I will be digging myself out in a moment. Do not leave before I am giving hugs and cheek kisses goodbye.”
“Hey, what about me?” Bobby yelled.
“Yeah, especially you ‘Iceman’,” Jean laughed, “You and ‘Pyro’ can go measure your dicks off a bridge for all I care. What a couple of fucking tools. Anyway, chop chop, you got a car around here somewhere Greg?”
“Ah, no, I live in Manhattan. Purchasing a car didn’t really seem necessary.”
“Fine, taxi it is then, are you going to call or should I?”
“Eh, no, I thought we could teleport, actually.”
“Teleport,” Kittie said with a gleam in her eyes, “Is that something all devils learn how to do?”
“Eh, oh? Yes, actually. It’s one of the first things we teach to young devils. It helps immensely with fulfilling contracts with mortals, though they typically need to use teleportation circles until they've reached at least mid-class devil rank.”
“Shit, I’m sold,” she turns back to Anna and whispers conspiratorally, “Alright, we need to convince him to reserve us a couple of pawn spots for when we both turn 18.”
“You ain’t gotta tell me twice shugah, he had me at ‘no more periods’.”
New York City, Studio Apartment in the Upper East Side.
That evening.
An attractive young man wearing flannel pajamas, narrowed his eyes at a 5’6” cocoon of dark energy on his recently cleared apartment floor. The sound of keys in the lock broke his contemplative mood.
“Oh, you're here!” The boisterous voice of Gregory's older (but still fabulous beyond belief) aunt, bringing a smile to his formerly pensive face as she swaggered into the room carrying two armfuls of shopping bags, “I was hoping to catch you and Jean before you ‘did the deed’ so to speak, but no worries.”
“Auntie,” Gregory’s cheeks reddened, “You really shouldn't say things that can be misconstrued like that.”
“Ooohh?” A knowing smirk took over the woman's expression as she laid her bags on the apartment floor, “I suppose you're a young man, ‘those things’ are on your mind after all. It should be no time at all before there are a bunch of devil babies wandering about. I can't wait!”
“Auntie! I object, my interest in Miss Grey is purely professional, it would be terribly improper to impose on the poor girl so soon after her recent trauma… and what about the power imbalance, Auntie, if you told me anything in the past few months, it was that…”
“Oh hush dear, I was only pulling your leg. Now, I purchased Jean a few things, seeing as her entire wardrobe is under ten tons of rubble. Nothing fancy, but it should last her a few days… you can take her out shopping for anything else she needs later. I do have a few important things to go over before I head out again, but first… how did it go with Jean and her friends?”
“Auntie, aren’t you a nigh omniscient and omnipotent nexus of psionic energy in the greater cosmos? Why are you asking me how things went?”
“Of course I am dearie,” the woman pulled up a stool to the breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the Studio, and motioned for her nephew to sit across from her while she mixed a Manhattan from a bottle of Blanton’s that hadn’t been there a moment ago, “But that’s the other me. This me is just your plain and ordinary Auntie Fiona, independently wealthy, middle aged (but still incredibly beautiful), old money socialite with some minor telepathic abilities and a slight drinking problem. What’s the point of taking on a mortal form if I keep all the big advantages? Would you like me to mix you up an old fashioned while we chat?”
“Thanks Auntie… Fiona? I love the name. An old fashioned would be smashing. And you can use the Bourbon, no need to open a bottle of Rye,” the boy answered as he sat down, “Well, I suppose everything went rather well, actually. Professor Xavier and that Scott boy were rather adamantly against the whole thing, and never really changed their minds about it. Miss Monroe seemed worried about the whole eternal servitude thing, though she was more supportive than the other two. The rest of Jean’s friends seemed to have no objections, however, though that might have been the hormone cocktail calming their emotions I suppose.
“Oh, and while there was some property damage, no one was killed, which I guess is a huge plus if you’re correct about how these things usually go.”
“Good, I’m glad she didn’t do anything she would have regretted later. What did she ask for when you sealed the deal?”
“By the Old Man, this is so much better with Bourbon,” the boy exclaimed after sipping the drink his aunt handed to him, “That’s the funny thing, Auntie, all she asked for was a binding agreement that made sure she could ignore any of my orders that contradicted her personal morality… and she even had me include a stipulation that in the case of an emergency, where she didn’t have all of the facts that I did, that she would still follow those orders as long as they were made in good faith.”
“That sounds like Jean, she was never one for complicated contracts. So she already trusts you that much?”
“Well, apparently she was able to fully scan my memories before we finalized the agreement. She is a powerful telepath, after all. She said she didn’t see anything in my mind that she objected to.”
“Oh? That’s surprising,” the older woman nodded, “It must be her connection to my own powers. Most telepaths trying to poke around your head would find a shattered mess held together by scotch tape and bubble gum, that’s one of the reasons I’ve been coming by so much, to try to patch up any leaks that spring up in your mind.
“Long story short, you should be a complete mystery to any telepath reading your mind, it’ll all come out a jumbled mess. Your brain even routes your surface thoughts differently, and would be gibberish to anyone trying to read them. Any telepath strong enough to try to influence you will likely have a difficult time even making sense of how your mind works. I believe Jean’s connection to me might be giving her an instinctual understanding of my patch job, however. Do you want me to change that?”
“I don’t think so Auntie, Jean seems trustworthy, and if she turns out not to be… well, you will be coming by periodically to check on me, won’t you?”
“That’s true,” the woman nods, “Oh, and I wouldn’t worry about Scott and Xavier, at least not in the long term. Once they get free of the mental influence they’re under, they should realize that there are only positives in this arrangement. Normally Jean kills Scott first when her powers awaken. He usually does get resurrected later on, but it’s dreadfully inconvenient for a few months.”
“Mental influence? Auntie, didn’t you think it was important to mention something as significant as someone able to mind control one of the world’s strongest telepaths before I went to confront him?”
“Why? Would it have changed anything? Besides, it’s not really mind control, only a mild mental suggestion, one that they wouldn’t have been susceptible to if they weren’t already typical ‘alpha male’ types on their own. The idea of puppeting someone like Xavier by anyone less than my own ability is preposterous. Jean can tell you more about it once she looks into it.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Well, long story short, that ominous oblong shadowy mass coalescing on my apartment floor is the newest bishop of the Seere family.”
“Oh? Bishop? Smart move, Jean will be an excellent bishop for your peerage. The queen piece is more well rounded, but the bishop is much more suited to Jean’s specific power set. You made me lose a bet with the Old Man, however. I was sure that you’d offer her the queen.”
“Well, I did,” the boy blushed and sipped his drink, “But she refused. She said she didn’t want the responsibility of being my second in command.”
“Oh, that checks out. Jean was always more of a nurturing type than the leader type, even with her dark side unlocked. Hmm, I suppose that crafty Old Bastard still technically won the bet.
“Well, all is well that ends well, I suppose… I guess I’ll just have to allow my newest Jean to date the new Peter for a bit. Oh well, it’s not like it’ll last. That boy is horrible with commitment, he sabotages all of his relationships,” the older woman pulled a shiny cardboard box and two manilla folders from one of the bags on the floor, and placed them on the breakfast bar, “Now, I have a few things here that the Old Man wanted me to pass along to help you start your new life.”
“More presents? You and the Old Man have already done so much for me…”
“Nothing like that now, it’s just a few minor things. Don’t lose your top over it.
“First, here is your new cellular phone. It’s the newest Nokia flip phone. State of the art. I would have gotten you a blackberry, but they’re too large for a man’s pants pocket in my opinion. This should be fine for you until Mr. Jobs makes his announcement next year.
“It has myself and the Old Man in your contacts, so make sure you keep in touch. I will be dropping by periodically, but neither of us wants to smother you, so we’ll be mostly staying hands off from now on. The cell plan has room for 15 additional lines, one for each of your future peerage. Jean’s new phone is in the bag with her clothing.
“Oh, I also included the contact number for your lawyer, in case you have questions for her. She’s only recently taken over your trust, so she won’t have too many answers for you, but she should be a great help going forward. A good lawyer is always important for a young man in your position.”
“Wait, Auntie… the phone is amazing… but a lawyer, I can’t afford a lawyer… I don’t even have an income. And what’s this about a trust?”
“If you let me explain,” the woman answered with an annoyed stare, “Instead of interrupting me all the time…”
“Sorry, Auntie, please continue.”
“Right, now. Sorry, your lawyer. She will be by tomorrow morning at nine sharp to discuss the discharge of the trust fund your parents established in the event of their untimely deaths.”
“Alright Auntie, pull the other one. We both know my parents died four centuries ago.”
“Fine,” the woman smirked, “This is just the setting the Old Man arranged for you. Can’t have you popping up out of nowhere, after all. That wouldn’t be proper, and we can’t have a destitute devil running around our newest timeline… how would that look? How would you complete any contracts without connections of your own?”
“I suppose that makes sense,” the boy nodded, “Though it does take a bit of the sense of accomplishment out of it. Having it handed to me instead of making my own way in the world is a bit disappointing.”
“Oh, Gregory, do you really believe it’s possible to make it in this stratified society without a little bit of a leg up? You’re brilliant, but you don’t really have a good mind for business. If we left you to your own devices you’d just be another exploited cog somewhere like Oscorp or Stark Industries.
“Besides, who said we were going to make it easy for you? For shame, you know how much the Old Man likes his drama.
“Now, where was I?” the older woman tapped her chin in thought, “Oh yes, your lawyer. I’ve included her number, but I recommend not bothering her too much. She’s having a rough time with her obsessive and overly protective asshole of an ex-husband, so try to keep the contact to the normal 9 to 5 if you can.”
“Well, that’s awkward. Is her husband going to be a problem?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Her husband isn’t obsessed with her, he’s obsessed with another man.”
“Oh, well… that’s even more awkward. I suppose that explains the ‘ex’ part of the ‘ex-husband’. I’m not one to judge, love is love in my opinion.”
“Such a good boy,” Auntie Fiona said with an affectionate look on her face, “Anyway, your lawyer will be by tomorrow. You can find out more about the trust from her. It’s part of the setting that you don’t know much about your parents, anyway… if anyone asks you’ve been away at Glenalmond College since your parents passed away ten years ago.
“You were only twelve at the time, so no one expects you to know too much about them anyway. Now, the final thing I wanted to discuss. You’re going to be active in your mother’s company soon, so you’re going to need a personal assistant. I’ve taken the liberty of contacting the company’s pool, and I’ve picked out a few promising resumes.”
The boy picked up the top folder and started reading from the first resume.
“Earned a medical degree from Columbia at sixteen, earned two PhD’s from Stanford in biochemistry at nineteen,” the boy’s eyes rose higher and higher as he read the resume, “Trained in multiple martial arts, including Taekwondo and several styles of Kung Fu. Graduated with honors from the training academy of an undisclosed secret agency…
“Successfully replicated the super soldier serum without any of the personality changing side effects…” the boy’s voice was fully raised as he turned to his aunt, “Auntie, how is this a resume for a personal assistant?”
“Oh, shoot, that’s the wrong resume,” the woman stuck her tongue out cutely and handed him the second folder, “Here is the correct resume.”
“No, I want the first one.”
“It’s the same person, silly, it’s just edited a bit to make her seem extremely qualified, but not overqualified.”
“I’m guessing there is a story about that, but I’ll take it, I suppose.”
“Not telling! That would ruin the surprise. I suppose you won’t need to look at any of the other candidates then?”
“Are any of them as impressive as the first?”
“Nope,” the woman popped the P as she winked at her nephew, “I’ll let the girl know to be here at 8 am sharp on Tuesday with a car ready to take you to the company. That will give you plenty of time. Jean should be up and about by then, so it will save you the hassle of explaining the shadowy pulsating mass on your floor.”
“Yes, I can see where that would be difficult to explain. Will that be a problem with my lawyer visiting tomorrow?”
“It shouldn’t be. You didn’t think I’d set you up with just any old lawyer, did you? The Jenniffer girl isn’t active in this timeline yet, and she doesn’t do corporate law anyway. Anne should be perfectly ok with representing someone from the… enhanced… side of the aisle. She has a few secrets of her own, though it would be rude of me to tell you anything else.”
“Auntie, why do I get the feeling that you and the Old Man are trying to bring single, gorgeous, and capable women into my sphere of influence every chance you get?”
“Gregory,” the woman said with an indulgent tone as she pinched his cheek, “Isn’t it the job of an older (but still incredibly beautiful) Auntie to introduce nice young ladies to their single nephews?”