Scott and Betsy

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

[Betsy meets Scott when he returns from this trip. Backdated to that night.]

Scott left the others to head to their rooms, and he to his. Of course, now that he was back, she'd likely pick up on what they discussed, but she'd been avoiding him, as he had been her, ever since their date. He had his shields, but he knew they weren't that good. He wasn't gifted in that area. He opened the door, flicking on the light as he entered.

She'd watched him through the third floor landing, bidding his goodbyes to the motley crew of Pete, Logan, and Shinobi. When would he ever learn? Counting, really. Did he think she couldn't see what he was up to? The telepath followed Scott making his way through the Manor. His thoughts struggling under the surface. Kwannon turned away from the window. It was time to have a talk with the leader of the X-Men.

Scott blinked, then frowned, as he saw Betsy standing by the window in his room. The frown turned into a neutral expression in a second, but she didn't need be a telepath to tell he wasn't happy she was there. "Betsy." Or whoever you are. The thought was loud enough. He wasn't hiding it. "To what do I owe this visit?" He closed the door, unafraid.

"Not happy to see me, are you?" She turned around, facing him, mirroring his stern expression. "Do you always conspire against your lovers?"

He should have been prepared for that sort of question, but he wasn't. Shrugging, he tossed his keys into the dish on the table near the door, took off his coat, and moved to the closet. "I wouldn't know. Jean never gave me any reason to conspire against her, and neither did Betsy."

Scott wondered how she would take that. He wasn't afraid of her...it...whatever it was that lived inside Betsy's body. She could kill him now, but enough people were onto her, she wouldn't get away with it. I'd like to see her *try* to get at Logan again. And he found himself surprisingly calm, contemplating his own death. It amused him, and he smiled.

"Ah, I see." she nodded her head, knowingly. "Yes, yes. I've heard it all. I'm not Betsy Braddock. I'm some dark demonic spirit or some gallivanting poltergeist. Is that what you think, Scott. Really, I should have given you more credit for such an active imagination."

Coat hung, he turned back to face her. "No, I think you're the result of Essex fucking with Betsy's head." Go on, read it. No shields. Not that you haven't gone poking already.

She looked around his quarters. Eyeing the meticulous nature of the sparse decorations of the living room. What did this woman ever see in him? "Essex fucking with my mind .....was my choice, Scott." Besides, I came here to talk, not galavant within your mind. I do have to keep my night's free for that.

"Now THAT, that would explain a lot." He sunk down in one of the leather chairs, watching her. Watching the woman who wasn't Betsy use her body for her own purposes. "So, what do we have to talk about?" This should be interesting. She finally comes seeking me out. Scared, are we? Secret's getting out, you know.

"I thought it was you who was scared. We haven't talked since that night, except for a few random conversations online." She moved toward him, her eyes never leaving his face. "You've been avoiding me and I want to know why."

"If you're not here to galavant through my mind, why do you keep doing it?" He smiled lazily at her, amused. "And I could say the same about you. So why don't we agree we've just been avoiding each other?" *You* have never scared me. Worried. Concern. For *Betsy*. Afraid to let her talk to me? Afraid of what she might say to me? Human concern beneath you?

Her eyes hardened. "You're so aggravating. What is it with you and this...." she paused. Kwannon pushed back, trying to reign in her emotions.

"Stop. Reading. My. Mind. Really, is it worth the effort? It's not much of a challenge, I know." He steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, hiding the smile. A little. Betsy must scare you, too. But that's not the point of this, is it? You were supposed to come here and threaten me, yes? Hurt me in some way? Tell me to back off? You certainly don't think you can convince me that you really are... "...the Betsy I fell in love with, do you?" He finished the thought aloud, smile gone, tilting his head back and studying her. "Who are you?"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you. Projecting your thoughts at me and expecting me not to react." She turned away from him, trying to quell the roaring in her ears. "I didn't come here to fight with you. But, if that is all you are capable of, I'll leave you to your own devices."

Yes, immensely. But you should know how to shield. Rudimentary... "...really. It doesn't take much effort. Do I unbalance you? I'm sorry, I'm not that good with shielding. Here, let me try." Scott began the counting repetition over and over again in his head. Basic, really, but easy enough to shut out, if she really wanted to. "So, you wanted to talk. About why I was avoiding you. Because you're not the same person you were. I don't like what you've become. Why were you avoiding me?" He remained seated, watching her as she headed toward the door.

You should listen to him, he proves most enlightening when amused. Kwannon stopped abruptly. Why don't you just die! Kwannon she called back within her thoughts.

"Because that would take away all the joy I have left in this life." Betsy's voice called back. "And I wouldn't want to not miss seeing him smile again." The image of Betsy appeared next to Kwannon. She looked ill, paler than her twin. But, she was facing Scott, daring herself to speak to him.

Kwannon turned back to him, as the mirage of Betsy moved forward. "I cannot help that what I had no control over. I made my decision and i will not fall back on it." She turned her head to the side, imperceptibly acknowledging Betsy. "I only acted out of your best interest, you chose not to seek me out. It was only out of respect, I did the same."

"I know that, Betsy," he smiled, sadly. "Thank you." He inclined his head, just a little bit. Then repositioned himself. "Then why did *you* come here? Tonight? Because I went out of your area and had a talk with some friends, I'm guessing. And you want to know what was discussed."

Her control was reigning in, her emotions less chaotic. She turned to her side and the image of Betsy Braddock faded into nothingness. She would need to visit Manny soon.

"I know what was discussed, I smell funny, do I." she seethed. "Not many women would take that offense without losing some decorum." She raised her hand in protest. "I understand your need to do this. Just know, that I will have to do what is necessary when the time comes."

"And know that I will as well." He stood up, and walked over to the door. Scott opened it, and leaned on the frame. "I'm glad we were able to talk. Tell Betsy I missed ... no, I miss her."

"Then I have made my peace." She bowed her head, unconsciously. She stopped right in front of him, uncomfortably close to Scott. "She misses you, as well." Her hand on the handle, she lightly pushes him inside, and closing the door. Kwannon brings Betsy's body in direct contact with his. Hands on his chest, bracing herself for his reaction, lips dancing on the horizon of his lips, waiting for permission.

Scott stood there, impassive. Not responding at all, but letting her do as she would to him. He closed his eyes for a second, out of habit, but then opened them to slits as she hesitated. "Was there something you wanted?" He whispered at her lips, no emotion from him save for a slight curiosity. And that damned number repetition inside his head.

Breaking through his shields, she smiles. She delves into his thoughts, the memories of a night not forgotten. Two lovers bodies, in the moonlight. The image of Betsy in her black dress, laughing. Kiss me, Scott Kwannon's hands travelled down his frame.

"Why?" His body responded, how could it not? His mind resisted, but he heard what she spoke to his mind. "So you can .... oh, I see. This is how you get off." He smiled, that amused smile again.

She refused to answer him. Another image swept through his thoughts, Betsy watching him while he laid in bed in Los Angeles, worried. A flash of her and Scott in the shower, a psychic interlude. Each image forged through his shields, making him a willing subject to her ministrations. Touch me.

Scott touched her, his mind replaying back the previous events with all the emotions attached. He couldn't not want her, with the mental and emotional manipulation she was performing on him. A
part of him didn't want to, either. This was Betsy, her body, if not her mind. He wanted that.

Her mind. He gripped Betsy, and pushed her away from him with great effort. It only moved her a handsbreath away. "Yes, I want her, but not just the memory of her. Not her past, but her now. Her mind, not just her body."

"I don't understand your need to insist that I am impersonating myself, Scott." Kwannon held onto the guise as she looked up at him, frustration evident in her glare. "I'm here offering myself to you time and time again and you continue to brush me off. Each time with a new excuse, a new lie to comfort yourself."

She widened the gap between them, folding her arms, in her defensive stance. "Well, I'm calling you on it."

"Leave then. Come back when you're whole, and we'll do more than talk." But now, conversation is all I want from you, and I will give you without force.

"I am whole, for once in my life, I have everything I've ever wanted. And you plot against me." She smirked at his ploy. "Then perhaps, you should talk to me than at me."

"I am talking to you. I told you to stop listening. Betsy had that much control. Jean said even the weakest of telepaths learned that early on." I really do wonder why it bothers you. Don't have the control to block it out? He opened the door. "So, shall we try this again?"

"Because we were supposedly close to one another. As was your Jean to you. She could never block you out, or would even think to." She placed her hand on the frame of the door, smirking again. No, we are not finished talking.

"She?" Scott asked, a small smile on his face. "Then you would be? I mean, come on, a simple name to go with the mind would do wonders in my cooperation." Keep bringing up Jean, that's a good girl, If there's anything to bring out the Betsy in you, it's thinking of Jean.

Purple eyes looked menacingly at him. "I meant, Jean, of course, not myself" she said through gritted teeth.

"Ah well, then, I guess we don't have anything left to talk about, Ms....Braddock. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get some sleep." Scott looked pointedly through the doorway. I'll see you in my dreams, Betsy. That's all, until we figure out what's going on.

"Goodnight, Scott," she said quietly. Kwannon took one last glance at /him/, bowed her head to him, and exited his room. If it was her dying wish, she would make it so he would never hear from his beloved Betsy again.