The Man With the Cape-
The Dry-Cleaners near Charles' tiny apartment was a dingy sketchy little affair. The ceiling was yellowed with mildew, the floor a cracked and graying linoleum, and the lights flickered as if auditioning for a role in a horror film. Nothing in Charles' neighborhood was pristine but this establishment really took the cake. There was a certain irony (pardon the laundering pun) that comes with a filthy cleaning business. It was that irony along with proximity that drew Charles there to dry-clean his cardigans despite the derelict appearance.
Sometimes while waiting to pick up his clothing Charles would indulge in his peculiar little hobby; people watching. He indulged in this little sport not just for voyeuristic purposes, although that was certainly part of it, but rather to sharpen some decidedly rusty skills. Due to his telepathy he was a regrettably horrid judge of facial expressions, body language and the like.
It was a Tuesday when Charles first saw the man with the cape. He was sixth in line and half his body was outside in the frosty air waiting for the godforsaken people in front of him to hurry up so he could get inside where it was warm. He was just about to cheat and use a little mental nudge to worm his way towards the front of the line when he caught a glimpse of the man there. He was tall, with cinnamon-bronze hair, a swimmers body, and some sexy stubble. His hand was rubbing over the stubble as if confused. Charles itched to bring his fingers to his head and read the man's mind, but he managed to restrain himself- if barely. He found himself desperately curious about this man. What was he dry- cleaning? What was his name? Did he ride a motorcycle? He certainly looked as if he did with his leather jacket, motor oil stained jeans, and sexy combat boots.
Somehow the man managed to get past Charles without a single one of his questions being answered. Charles suppressed a sigh and went back to waiting for his dry-cleaning.
oOo
Charles hadn't originally intended to work during the break he was granted from his University job in order to conduct research. However, he had found that he just couldn't resist Emma's offer to come help out at the day care two days a week.
Charles had always loved children. They never ceased to amaze him with their ability to love and accept, to learn and adapt. Their minds were wonderful little palaces and they always caused him to see things in a new way. After a lifetime of telepathy the fresh perspectives help him to retain a hold on reality.
Charles hadn't expected to fall in love with this part time job so much, but as each new day of work dawned he found himself more and more excited. The children meant the world to him, and he to them. Mr. Charles became an immediate favorite (sure maybe having his baby sister Raven at the daycare did help win over some children, but that was beside the point). Charles had never enjoyed himself so much outside of academia.
oOo
A week after the first sighting and Charles is back in line to pick up more sweaters. Raven makes fun of him for dry-cleaning so many sweaters but it really was the one luxury he allows himself, and it's not as if he couldn't afford it.
He picks up his clothing without a hitch, and also without a sighting of Mr. Mysterious. Charles can't help the disappointed feeling in the pit of his stomach as he heads for the door.
Just as he thinks all hope is lost, the man walks in the door. This time he's wearing a black turtleneck that makes his torso look even more leanly muscled, and a pair of aviators right out of GQ. Good lord, this man is dead sexy.
Charles desperately wracks his brain for an excuse to stay in the little shop while the man picks up his clothing. His eyes rove around until, there brochures! Charles nonchalantly made his way over and blindly picked up the first one he laid a hand on. He opened it to the middle and lifted it until it shielded his eyes, then began to covertly watch Mr. Sexy as he waited in line.
The man seemed lost in thought as he flipped a coin around his fingers. Charles looked closer and saw that the coin was actually floating through his fingers. Inadvertently Charles let out a small gasp drawing the man's eyes to meet his. Damn it, I can't look away now.
The stranger's eyes were narrowed as he met Charles' eyes, but his gaze soon turned lighter and he let out a small chuckle and pocketed the coin. Charles wondered what the man had thought was so funny, but finding nothing turned his gaze to the pamphlet in his hand. It was entitled Your First Period: A Groovy Girl's Guide. Oh. Oh shit.
Charles had never fled from anything as quickly as he fled that little shop that day.
oOo
A pattern began to emerge in their encounters. Every Tuesday Charles would go to pick up that week's supply of cardigan sweaters, and every Tuesday Charles would catch at least a glimpse of the sexy stranger. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't primping for anyone's benefit when he checked his hair and picked stray dried-macaroni from the children's art projects off his sweaters before he would set foot in the dry-cleaner. It was useless though, he knew the truth.
Every time Charles saw him he was tempted to send a little mental suggestion of "Look over here. You know you want to." However he had made a promise to himself and refused to break it.
He tried catching the stranger's eye more than once but, apart from that first humiliating time, the man would not look his way. In fact he would so creatively avoid looking at Charles, that Charles began to think that in itself might mean something.
Charles still hadn't been able to figure out what the infuriating man was dry-cleaning every Tuesday; it bothered him far more than it really should. It took about three months for that to change.
oOo
That Tuesday had been a particularly hard day at the day-care center. Sean and Alex had gotten into a fight that ended with three shattered windows and a plethora of scorch marks along the wall, Angel had called Hank "Cookie Monster" which of course ended very badly, and Darwin had decided that it was the perfect day to see if he was resistant to fire. All Charles wanted to do was go pick up his dry-cleaning, maybe catch a glimpse of the sexy stranger, and go home for a nice cup of tea and a good genetics book.
When he got to the dry-cleaner he found that he was in luck. The sexy man was a person ahead of him in line and was picking up his usual garment bag. The only difference was that this time the garment bag was open. Finally I'll be able to see what he cleans every week!
He watched the man as he paid and received his dry cleaning, he watched him as he turned and began walking out the door and he watched him as he carried his long purple cape out the door, slipping past Charles and out into the general public. He had dry-cleaned a cape. A purple. Cape. Charles had to stuff a fist in his mouth to keep from breaking into loud giggles. Trust me to develop an attraction for a man in a cape. It wasn't even a Dracula-esque cape, or something you could use for an interesting drag outfit. Instead it appeared to be an enormous deep-purple number with no embellishments what-so-ever.
Charles almost called Emma right then and there to tell her the whole hilarious and unfortunate story but then he realized just how close to pathetic the whole thing really was and thought better of it. Oh well; he was too attractive to not be some sort of weirdo.
oOo
"Charles?"
"Mmhmm?"
Emma sounded a bit frazzled as she walked over to Charles. He was cleaning up the children's arts and crafts station after a mellow day at work. Even without trying he could feel the waves of rolling off of her mind.
"I have a favor to ask…"
"I'm sure I can help you Emma. What seems to be the problem?"
Emma took a seat on one of the small plastic children's seats and gestured for Charles to do the same.
"You know how my mother has been dating that new man with the yacht and all of that?"
"Yes…" Charles didn't really see how there was a connection between some man's yacht and Emma's worries and he itched to just reach out and… No. A promise is a promise.
"Well apparently they are getting married. This Friday."
"Oh my. That's rather soon."
"Yes, it is. I know that this Friday is one of your days off but they want me to be in the wedding and we have that big magician coming in for the children and I just…"
"Say no more. Of course I can take over for you."
"Oh thank you so much Charles!"
Emma leapt up and threw her arms around Charles.
"It's no problem. Now, about the magician, what was his name again?"
"Magneto. Funny name huh?"
oOo
Friday rolled around and Charles awoke feeling as if the world was personally attacking him. He was not in the mood for a magic show; hell he wasn't in the mood to walk from his bed to the shower. But that was not to be an option today.
Raven bounded into the room and jumped on the bed before Charles got a chance to lever his body out of the comfortable cocoon of sleep. She was wearing one of Charles' old ratty work-out tees and it reached just past her small blue knees. Angel was close behind, shakily flying in on her still developing wings.
Charles clapped his hands together, grinning. "Angel darling that is just wonderful! Were you and Raven working on your powers last night instead of sleeping?" He tried to look stern but utterly failed.
"Charles! You know no one actually sleeps at a sleepover!" There was almost no warning before Charles was being pummeled by feathery pillows wielded by two small girls. There was no hope.
"Say Uncle! Say it!"
Charles did what any sane man would do; he cried uncle while curling up into the fetal position. The girls kept at him for a couple more whacks (who wouldn't?) but then finally relented.
"Okay girls; today is the day Mr. Magneto is coming to the day care. So how about we get ready and go meet him?"
The girls let out twin high pitched squeals of excitement and ran off to get ready. Charles peeled himself from bed and padded to the kitchen to start pancakes for the girls.
oOo
Magneto was late. Charles checked his watch for the third time in twenty minutes. He was starting to get frustrated. Although Charles wasn't a naturally punctual man he always expected people to keep their word to children. Alex, in particular, was starting to get antsy and Charles didn't know how much longer he could wait.
Just as he checked his watch for the fourth time the roar of a motor bike engine was heard. Charles broke his own self-imposed rule and put his fingers to his head to read this Magneto's mind and was promptly floored with what he encountered.
Charles had been inside a lot of minds and they generally tended to fall into several categories but this was something new. He felt as if he had plunged his entire body in some sort of cool gel; he felt suspended and soothed within this man's mind. Who was this man?
The door of the day care opened and in walked the man from the dry cleaners. He was wearing and odd red and purple outfit and affixed to his shoulders was the deep purple cape. He stumbled a bit when he saw Charles, coming to a bit of a shocked halt. Charles, having broken his rule, could quite clearly hear what this man was thinking (although his current thoughts were by no means the limit of what he knew. He knew what his name was, Erik, where he lived, a small apartment near Charles, even what he had dressed up as for his eight birthday party, a dinosaur.) His thoughts were rushing through his head like a rapidly moving ice cold stream. That'. . WhatamIgoingtodo? Justgowithit. Justbenatural.
Charles slowly moved his fingers from his temple and his mind from Erik's.
"Okay children. Who's ready for some magic?"
"Meeeeee!"
"Well then, let me present to you all Mr. Magneto: magician extraordinaire!"
Charles watched as Erik began the children's magic show. He had brought a small trunk with him and from within it he produced the tricks of his trade. As Erik began to pull paper flowers from thin air, making coins appear behind the ear of a child across the room, and generally enthrall the children Charles couldn't help being a little enthralled himself. Erik's long fingers really did seem to be filled with magic and he almost seemed to glow with enthusiasm as he performed each trick. Charles would have never guessed the handsome and dour man from the dry cleaners could turn into this magical laughing creature.
From beneath his cape Erik produced a deep black silk top hat.
"Now, no magic show would be complete without a rabbit emerging from a top hat. However, I have my own little twist I add to this old trick." I won't be pulling this rabbit from the hat, but rather I shall be levitating it."
A chorus of ooooooh's erupted from the children and Charles found himself grinning from ear to ear.
Erik held his hand over the hat, his fingers trembling slightly and as he raised his hand a small black bunny levitated up from the hat. The children met this sight with applause and squeals of delight.
"I present to you all Pietro, your new daycare pet! If that's alright with you?" Erik inclined his head towards Charles as he handed the bunny off to an exuberant Raven.
"I'm sure that won't be a problem. Everyone, say thank you to Mr. Magneto!"
"Thank you!"
Raven was busy studying the small animal and staring at Erik speculatively.
"Can you levitate anything bigger Mr. Magneto?"
"Raven!" Charles admonished, "It's impolite to ask questions like that."
Erik just laughed. "Why yes I can. Would you all like to see?"
"Yes!"
"Any suggestions on what to try?"
The chant started softly but then quickly picked up in both speed and volume.
"Mr. Charles! Mr. Charles! Mr. Charles!"
Charles shook his head and tried to scrunch down in his seat. Surely I'm too large. This is just an immensely bad idea on so many levels.
"Mr. Charles?" Erik extended his hand towards Charles. Charles took a deep breath and accepted.
oOo
To Charles' surprise Erik had stayed through the rest of the afternoon. He had helped to lead the games, participated in arts and crafts, and even had sat quietly on the floor with the children during story time. All the while he had been wearing that silly purple cape of his that Charles had first glimpsed that day so long ago at the dry cleaners.
After the last child had been picked up Charles felt a little at a loss as to what to say to the man he had watched for so long.
"Ummm, would you like a cup of tea Erik? I usually indulge in one after the children leave…"
"That sounds lovely, although I don't remember telling you my real name Charles."
Shit, shit, shit. I slipped up. Oh fuck.
"Umm well, I, uh that is to say…"
"Don't worry Charles," Erik smiled and tapped his temple, "I know the feel of a telepath. No reason to not use your powers. You wouldn't deny yourself the use of a limb would you?"
"Well when you put it that way…"
"See? No harm done. Anyway, it isn't as if this is the first time we have met."
Charles felt his mouth open and close like a confused carp. And Erik, damn him, just chuckled.
"I'm glad to see I wasn't the only one to take notice of a handsome man at the dry cleaners."
"Oh, well no. You weren't." Charles was blushing a little bit.
"I'm a little surprised you didn't just read my interest in you and act. If I were a telepath that is what I would have done."
"I have been taking a sabbatical from the use of my powers to work on a research paper I am going to publish."
"Research paper?" Erik's brow quirked in confusion. Charles waved him over to the small kitchenette in the back of the day care center and explained.
"Well I am only working here at the daycare center during the six months I have been granted by the university to work on research papers. I am writing one on the effect of power deprivation on mutants, one on mutant child education, and a couple others on similar topics."
"Impressive."
Charles found himself blushing slightly again. He carried the cups of tea over to one of the children's small tables. He found himself giggling as Erik tried to squeeze himself into one of the small seats.
"Damn, these seats are tiny." He finally managed to fit himself and picked up his tea and sipped at it.
"I think I may be finished with my research though." Charles blurted out. He wanted so badly to read Erik again, his mind was like a comforting mug of tea, the cool feel of aloe on a burn, hand-knitted woolen mittens in the winter, a home-cooked meal. It seemed so right and all Charles wished to do was dive back in and feel the liquid pleasure of his thoughts float through his own.
Erik smiled widely. "Well then, have at it Charles. It's the least I can do for a fellow dry cleaning addict."
Charles brought his fingers to his temple, a reflex from his dealings with humans (it seemed to comfort them to have an outward signal of his telepathy). Erik's mind washed over him, a thousand golden and silver strands of thoughts floating through in patterns similar to those of the cosmos. One was brighter than the others and called out to Charles. He gravitated towards it until the intentions within where clear.
TakemetodinnerCharles. Takemetoseeafilm. Takemetobed.
Charles pulled himself out with a small gasp and a sly grin.
"Well, if you insist."