((Fair warning, the following contains dialog that is meant to be inflammatory and suggestive.))<br/><br/>Petra had entered one of the store rooms; specifically where they kept a great deal of the extra laundry.  Mutants tended to burn through a lot of clothing while learning to use their powers, sometimes quite literally.  She ran her hand along the shelves as she searched for something her size, and came up with  - unfortunately - only a boy's large dress shirt, long sleeved and white, but it would be terribly tight across her chest and too long in the sleeves.  It would do for a short while.<br/><br/>Sliding her arms through the sleeves she turned around.  Her eyes widened a little as she was faced with a quiet, impassive Gwen.  The young woman slowly began buttoning up the shirt, tossing her head to the side.  "I thought you would be staying at the wedding.  Surely there are far more interesting sights to see there than in here."  Unaware that she was locked in with the older woman, she smirked faintly.  "Or did you want to demonstrate that I am helpless against you again?"  Her aqua eyes fixed on Gwen's, the accusation implicit in look and tone of voice.<br/><br/>The delicate fingers slowed as she reached her chest, the tightness of the shirt emphasizing her cleavage slightly.  "Surely you weren't jealous of how Professor Power greeted me, were you?  I did not interrupt something that had not happened yet, hmn?"  Petra stopped fiddling with the shirt and let her hands drop to her sides, and walked slowly towards Gwen, her aqua eyes shifting in somewhat disturbing manners as the lenses and irises focused on her.  "Or did you follow me in here because you did not want to lose your chance at some tight jail-bait ass again?"  That last was delivered with blistering scorn, a verbal slap in the face.  "Or perhaps I'm too old for you now."  Two years ago she hadn't been.