xp_logs | Log: Emma and Jake in New York

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Emma reclined on a velvet chaise in the private lounge she'd booked for the afternoon, her little team of personal shoppers - led by the highly reputable Carlo - rushing racks full of ludicrously expensive clothes in for her to disdain while she sipped Turkish coffee and nibbles Christmas lebkuchen. She's wearing zipper-heavy white pants by Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, and a scoop-neck Yves Saint Laurent jacket over a tight-fitting Donna Karan t-shirt - all new acquisitions, all white.

Carlo presented a thick felt winter overcoat for Emma's approval. The collar was far too big for Emma's tastes.

"Carlo, darling, do I look like Elizabeth Taylor to you? Do you see me marrying a Welshman and spending my time with pedophiles in Neverland? No. So take it back and get me something elegant, you loathsome little Bronx ogre."

Jake shuffled into what he identified as Emma's lounge by the gaggle of people standing around holding white clothing. He stood out sharply among the white as he was carrying a bright red shirt, and looked rather less panicked than the rest. "Emma, sweetheart," he began, merely to get her attention really.

Emma turned her head with an idle grace, expecting to see yet another ingratiating toady from the store. She actually smiled when she realised who it was, though that may have been mainly through relief.

"Oh, Jake. I see you've been shopping without supervision. Come, join me, tell me what you think of these awful overcoats they keep trying to foist on me."

Jake dropped down in the seat beside her, giving his shirt to a random minion who accepted the shirt and held it as if she was afraid it was on fire. He stole Emma's coffee for a moment, and glanced over at the coats. He stilled. "Oh my. You know how you keep telling me my taste in clothing isn't... stellar? Well..."

"Don't judge a woman by the intellect of her personal shoppers, darling." Emma turned her attention back to Carlo, leaned forward and barked; "You see what you're doing, Carlo? You're embarrassing me in front of my friends."

Carlo ran terrified back out onto the shop floor, trailing a rail behind him. Emma sank back into her seat with a vicious smile.

"You can't get the staff," she said contentedly. "Did you have a shopping accident with that shirt, darling?"

Jake shook his head, amused. "You have such a way with the hired help. I'm all in awe, here. And no, I. Well, actually, you still have my wallet, remember? So it's on loan. Speaking of, can I get my wallet back now?"

Emma reached for her purse with a sigh and pulled the wallet out, then tossed it across. "I'm only trying to save you from yourself, you know."

"I know," Jake said, picking up the wallet and stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket. "I do appreciate it, really. The world of women's fashions is a scary place without a guide. But now I want that shirt, and..." He looked up and winced. "You realise that your lackey is coming back with something that has yellow laces, right?"

Emma looked up at Carlo with an expression that would send the sun running back to its mother at dawn. Carlo turned on his heel and retreated. "I should just get everything tailored," Emma said with a sigh. "They have such wonderful tailors at the club, but those outfits tend to distract the students during classes."

Jake snorted. "I've no doubt. I've never understood your bizarre fondness for teaching, by the way. The masquerade clothing, I can kind of understand, the teaching is just plain bizarre."

"I believe the children are the future. Teach them well, and they will lead the way." She tore a lebkuchen in two and popped half into her mouth.

Jake arched an eyebrow at her, then shook his head. "No, I still don't see it."

"Well, what's that other saying? Give me a child at seven, and I will show you the man. You're a courier, you understand what it means to carry something important with you. Wherever these children go, the most important thing they can have is an education. The right education."

Jake studied her, and finished off her coffee, before replying this time. "You don't teach International Studies."

"I teach business, media and politics. And mind-reading. Those should be more than enough to arm any student for the future, darling." Carlo came back with a surprisingly stylish Givenchy overcoat, notable for its simplicity. "Oh, and I teach French," Emma added. "Which helps addle the minds of men. It's all part of the masterplan." She peeled off her jacket and stood, then slipped the overcoat on over her shoulders.

"There's a masterplan?" Jake eyed the overcoat. "Much better." He fell silent, frowning to himself, obviously thinking something over.

Emma smiled a thin smile. "Figure of speech," she said. She studied Jake's expression. "Something the matter, dear?"

"Not sure. Shinobi Shaw... Are you sure? I don't particularly care if he's, heh, a good guy or not, but I'd rather not be caught in the crossfire if things explode at the mansion. I have enough problems of my own."

Emma waved to dismiss the staff, but grabbed the rail so they didn't carry it away. They bustled out.

"Sebastian Shaw betrayed me, attacked me, held me prisoner and violated me every day for a month." Emma checked her reflection in the mirror. "And everyone keeps asking me if I think it's a good idea to trust his son."

Emma buttoned up the jacket, then turned to look Jacob in the eye. "Tell me, Jacob; when did I give the impression that I wasn't in the habit of thinking things through? Yes, I'm sure about Shinobi. No, I'm not taking a risk. I have rummaged in the dark corners of his mind and come back a little bored by his sexual fantasies. I know how he lost his virginity, how he discovered his powers, who his favourite author is, and what his mother's breast milk tasted like. I did not take this decision lightly.

"'Good guy or not'. You can be so naive," she sighed. She turned her attention back to the mirror and unfastened the buttons. "Yes, Jacob, he could change. His father did. In which case, I'll just have to kill him as well."

Jake rolled his eyes boredly at her. "You missed my point. I realise he's no threat to you, obviously. I want to know if he's a threat to me." He back tracked. "Kill him as... All right, I'm losing my touch so quickly it's not even funny. Mother is going to send me to Hong Kong for a year, I swear to god. Shaw's finally going down, is he?"

"It's no great secret, darling. I'm sure Shaw knows it." She threw the overcoat onto a pile of clothes she actually liked. "Why would he be a threat to you, Jacob? Apart from possibly wanting to take your ladylike virginity?"

"Hey, that's enough of a threat for me, thank you very much." Jake eyed the ceiling for a moment, then got a strange look on his face, which quickly shifted into one of horror. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"

Emma smiled her most evil smile of the day. "Hymen intactus. You didn't realise you'd got your cherry back, did you, dear?"

Jake just stared at her, horror struck. "I fucking hate my life."

"Poor dear." Emma clicked her fingers and the assistants came rushing back into the room. She gestured at the pile and they started folding and bagging. "I'm sure Betsy can introduce you to some of her sailor friends, if you ask nicely. Come along, Jacob. We have credit cards to charge."