Breakfast tastes better when someone else makes it. Firestar's pancakes are fluffy little miracles stacked in front of me, steam rising like they're breathing. I shovel another forkful into my mouth, savoring the buttery sweetness as maple syrup drips down my chin.
"These are amazing," I mumble through my mouthful, gesturing with my fork toward the golden stack. "Where'd you learn to cook like this?"
Firestar smiles, her copper-red hair flickering with tiny flames around the edges. "Youtube."
I nod appreciatively, stabbing another piece. Normal family stuff. The kind of thing that always feels like it's happening in some parallel universe I never got to visit.
The kitchen is quiet this morning, just the three of us. Kitty's out doing something at the mansion, and Magik had to portal somewhere for what she cryptically called "demon business." Xorna is... somewhere.
Mystique sits across from me, absently stirring her coffee. She's back to her natural blue today. Her hair is its usual slicked-back red, though it looks softer somehow this morning, less severe. There's something different in her eyes too, a tightness around the edges that wasn't there yesterday.
"You sleep okay?" I ask her, reaching for the orange juice.
She looks up from her coffee, those yellow eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes me pause mid-pour. "I tried to check on you last night," she says, her voice carefully neutral despite the slight narrowing of her eyes. "But I noticed you weren't in your bedroom."
The way she says it makes it clear she knows exactly where I was instead.
"Yeah, I slept in Illyana's room last night," I say with a casual shrug, like it's no big deal. Because it isn't.
Mystique's yellow eyes flash, her fingers tightening around her coffee mug until her knuckles turn a darker shade of blue. "How nice for you both," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure Magik's bed is much more comfortable than your own."
I shrug, shoveling another bite of pancake into my mouth. "It really is, though."
Mystique leans forward, her yellow eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "You haven't tried mine yet."
"That's because you came to my room when we did it," I point out.
Her blue lips curl into a smile that's all predator. "Well, almost no one is here right now," she purrs, her voice dropping to that silky register that makes my skin tingle. "We should go check right now..." She takes a slow, deliberate sip of her coffee. "Maybe after a quick shower, of course."
Before I can respond, the kitchen door swings open. Xorna walks in, her massive helmet catching the morning light as she moves with that strange mechanical grace. She's clutching a plastic bag in one hand.
"Good morning."
"Good morning, Xorna," I reply, grateful for the interruption. Something about the way Mystique was looking at me was making it hard to breathe. "Hey, Xorna, I wanted to talk to you about last night..."
My words trail off as she sets the plastic bag on the counter. Something tumbles out, several small inhalers clattering across the surface.
"What's this?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"A fellow mutant gave them to me on my walk today," Xorna explains, her head tilting slightly as she speaks. "She called them 'Kick.' She made it sound fun. I thought it would be nice to try with you, Jack."
"Xorna, no! Bad tin can!" Mystique snaps, standing up so fast her chair nearly topples backward. "These are drugs."
"What?" I stare at the inhalers scattered across our kitchen counter.
Mystique snatches one up, her movements sharp with anger. "Someone's been trying to sneak these into Genosha. We've kept them out so far, but we don't know where they're coming from."
"I was told they would make us feel good," Xorna says, that eerie blue glow from her eye-slits pulsing slightly brighter.
"Uhhh, drugs do tend to do that," I say, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly, "but let's not... we don't need drugs..."
"I don't care what we do," Xorna replies, stepping closer to me. There's something unsettling about the way she moves, like she's studying my every reaction. "Maybe I could try breeding with you like you did with Magik last night."
Xorna's words hang in the air like a live grenade, and Mystique's reaction is immediate.
"Get in line," she snarls, yellow eyes flashing with pure annoyance as she glares at Xorna.
I clear my throat, pushing my plate away. "Xorna, I actually wanted to talk about that." I stand up, feeling suddenly awkward under Firestar's wide-eyed stare. "Maybe we should do it alone."
"Sure."
Mystique makes a disgusted sound as I lead Xorna out of the kitchen. I can feel Firestar's concerned gaze burning into my back, but right now I've got bigger problems.
We walk in silence to my bedroom. The mattress is still unmade from the other night. I shut the door behind us with a soft click that somehow sounds final.
Before I can even turn around, Xorna's hands move to her clothes. She starts stripping with clinical efficiency, like she's preparing for a medical exam.
"Do you want me on all fours too?" she asks, her metallic voice completely matter-of-fact.
"Wait, wait!" I hold up my hands, panic shooting through me. "What are you doing?"
She pauses, her shirt halfway over her head. "What?"
I take a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. "I just wanted to talk about how it's not normal to watch people do that. You know, what you saw last night with me and Illyana."
Xorna's hands drop to her sides, her half-removed shirt hanging awkwardly around her neck. "I didn't know," she says simply.
"That's what I figured," I sigh, relieved she's not continuing to undress. "So I just wanted to let you know. Privacy is important."
She stands there for a moment, perfectly still, that eerie blue glow from her helmet steady and unreadable. "When I saw you acting like that," she finally says, her voice softer through the metallic filter, "I felt a tightening in my chest."
Something in her tone makes my heart twist. There's an innocence to her confusion that reminds me she's been locked away from normal human interaction.
But then her hands return to her shirt. My relief was premature.
"Xorna, we can't do this right now," I say firmly, stepping back until I hit the door.
"Why not?" She continues undressing, her movements determined.
"I'm not sure you're okay in the head right now," I say, pressing my back against the door like it might provide some extra protection.
Xorna pauses for a moment before continuing. "I was imprisoned for over fifty years, Jack. I'd really like to not die a virgin."
My brain short-circuits for a second. Fifty years? I stare at her body, athletic, toned, not a wrinkle in sight, trying to reconcile what she just said with what I'm seeing.
"You're over fifty?" I manage to ask, my voice cracking slightly.
"Sixty-three next month," she confirms, continuing to remove her shirt with that clinical efficiency. "Does that bother you?"
I swallow hard, my thoughts racing. Her X-gene has been kind to her.
"Hold on," I say, raising my hands. "I need to shower first."
"May I join you?"
I pause with my hand on the doorknob, considering her question.
"Is it alright if your helmet gets wet?" I ask, genuinely concerned about what happens when cosmic containment devices meet shower water.
"It's no problem at all."
"Yeah, alright then," I say with a shrug.
As I walk out into the hallway with Xorna trailing behind me, Firestar appears at the end of the corridor, her phone clutched in her hand.
"Hey," she calls out, her voice tight with urgency. "I just got a cryptic text from Kitty. She says something happened to Emma Frost."
My blood runs cold. The words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. The thought of something happening to Emma makes me almost physically ill.
"What?"