"All right, that's the last of it." Charles Xavier stepped back and smiled at the joy on the child's face even as he registered the presence of his sister walking up the hall. "Raven, what do you think of Eva's costume? Take a twirl, sweetie, go on."

The six-year-old beamed as she spun in a circle, the dress billowing up around her as she did.

Smiling down at her, Raven asked, "And who might you be?"

Eva responded, "I'm a faiwy pwincess!" and spun again, glitter flying from her fake wand.

Charles and Raven exchanged smiles. "You make a beautiful fairy princess," Raven informed her solemnly and Eva favored her with a toothy smile.

"Okay, time to take it off. We'd hate to have a princess with a ripped dress, now wouldn't we?" Charles said, reaching to pull the dress over the girl's head. "Just a moment, Ray."

Raven nodded and went to lean against the counter. Eva squirmed free and dashed off, still holding her fairy wand, Charles noted with a sigh and made a mental note to get her a spare one. Or several. He moved behind the desk and started folding the dress. Leaning over the counter briefly, he gave his sister a peck on the cheek. "Hello, Raven. How are you?"

"Can't complain. Although now I understand how I won all those costume contests as a kid."

Charles grinned at her as he put the costume in a box on the desk with Eva's name on it. "You're welcome." The phone rang and he paused and turned slightly, waiting. Mark picked up on the second ring and he turned back to his sister. "Did you come all this way just to say hi or was there something you needed?"

Raven scoffed. "Can't a girl just say hi to her brother?"

"Raven."

"Fine." She leveled her gaze at him. "I need a favor."

There it is. Charles frowned. "What is it?"

"I need you to be my date on the 30th."

He opened his mouth to ask what for but then the date registered and he said something else instead. "Wait, the 30th? As in October 30th, five days from now?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Charles sighed. "Raven, you know I have plans that day. It's the Halloween party here at the center. I can't just not come."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm the adult here. I own the place, I'm holding the party so I have to be here. For legal reasons. Besides, why don't you ask Hank to be your date? He likes you."

"Ugh," Raven rolled her eyes dramatically. "He's just so blah. And he won't be any fun at the premiere."

Charles picked up the box but stopped. "Premiere?" he repeated, suddenly wary. She wouldn't. "A film premiere?"

"Yeah. I have an extra ticket."

"Where'd you get the tickets?"

Raven shrugged. "Through the company. Wanna come?"

He eyed her. "Which film?"

Her face was all innocence as she replied, "Battle Magic."

An instinctive no was on his lips when Mark interrupted from the back room. "Um, Charles?"

"Yes?"

"Um, there's a, uh, woman who. . . well. She wants to. . . it's for you."

Charles set the box back down on the desk, took the phone and mouthed no at his sister before stepping into the back room. "Hello, this is Charles Xavier, how can I help you?"

Keeping half an eye on Raven and Mark out in the reception area, he listened to the woman's long spiel about having sports items that she had stored away because her kids no longer wanted them. Charles agreed to take them, telling her when he would be available, and then scribbled a quick note for Mark. And a mental note to teach the young man how to properly answer a phone call. Hanging up, Charles blew out his breath. Right then. He got up and headed back out, note in hand. "Mark?"

The young man spun in his chair as Charles said, "Mark, if a woman stops by and says she has sports equipment to donate, call me. I'm expecting her." He handed over the note and Mark nodded. Charles picked up the costume box. "Walk with me, Raven?"

Raven waited until they had rounded the corner out of earshot before continuing their earlier conversation. "So you'll come to the premiere?"

"No. I will not. Take Angel if you don't want to take Hank; she loves dressing up."

"Come on, you know you love the red carpet!"

"Correction: I love watching red carpets. Not attending." Not anymore. She would not change his mind on this. He'd had plenty of those to last a lifetime.

"Why won't you come?" Her voice was edging towards whiney little sister and he gritted his teeth.

"You do know who's starring in Battle Magic, yes?"

"Yeah, and your point. . . ?"

"And he's exactly why I won't go!" Charles shoved open the door to his office, a tad harder than needed. "I won't ruin his evening."

Raven sighed, closing the door. "How could you possibly ruin his evening?"

Charles set the box with the others in the corner and turned to her, crossing his arms. "It will start off pleasant, if awkward, but it will quickly and inevitably turn into a fight in which one or both of us will storm off and his night will be ruined. Because of me. I will be at the Halloween party, having fun with the children."

"Come on, that is, like, worst case scenario, at best."

"The answer is still no."

"Ugh, you are so stubborn!"

Charles turned his back on her and started rifling through his cabinets for donation forms. Donations were tax deductible for the donator. "I will have nothing to do with that man, Raven. End of story."

"But I had the extra ticket all earmarked for you!"

"Take Angel. Or Hank, or any of your other friends. I'm sure they'd all love to see him. I, however, do not." Where the bloody hell were those forms? He slammed a drawer shut and yanked open another.

"You're being ridiculous!" Raven snapped and stomped out.

Charles waited a few seconds to make sure she was gone before slumping into his chair, his head in his hands. How could she ask this of him? She knew how he felt about . . . what had happened. Lifting his head, he leaned it against the back of the chair and his gaze drifted to a photo on his desk.

A sad smile crossed his lips. If only things had gone differently. . .

His office phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. That led to another search for forms and soon Charles was busy, all thoughts of the film premiere gone.

"He's not coming."

"Are you sure? How hard did you try?"

Raven glanced back at her brother's community center as she stepped into the cab. "Well, I tried not to mention the film or, you know, you specifically, but he flat out asked me and then that was that. So. Yeah."

The person on the other end sighed heavily. "Still hurt, then?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it that, exactly, but. . . yeah. I think it's more of a mix of hurt and anger. He thinks you'll end up fighting and then ruin your night. So he doesn't want to come. Sorry."

"I guess it was too much to hope we could try and fix things just like that. Does he hate me?"

"No! Well . . . maybe. I don't think so. But you two still need to talk. Just, you know, not Sunday. Catch him on his home turf, so to speak, where he's comfortable."

"Okay." There was a pause, then, "You're still coming, right? I'd like to see you again, Raven."

Raven grinned. "I will most definitely be there. I'm looking forward to seeing you again, too, Erik."

"Charles, you have to pick a costume, for god's sake!" Moira frowned at him, hands on her hips. "You can't show up to a Halloween party without a costume."

He slumped further on his couch and sipped his tea. "Without you there, I have no idea what to wear. We usually do couples' costumes."

"Oh for. . . " Moira set her wine glass down and sat next to him. "There are plenty of singles costumes out there; you just have to pick one." He shrugged and she sighed. "Does Raven have any ideas?"

Charles said quietly, "She's not talking to me right now."

Moira repeated, "She's not . . . talking. To you. Why not? What happened?"

He made a face. "I'd rather not say."

Moira plucked his mug from his hands. "Too late. Spill."

He straightened and reluctantly said, "Okay. She wants me to go to this film premiere with her on Sunday, I said no, she got mad, and we haven't talked since."

Moira studied him for a minute. "What aren't you telling me?"

Charles laughed a little. "How do you do that?"

"We've been friends for years, Charles, and I know when you're hedging. Come on, out with it."

He mumbled, "'serk."

She blinked. "What?"

Sighing, Charles said a little louder, "It's Erik. It's his movie premiering and I don't want to see him, happy now?"

"Much." Moira drank some wine. "Now, why did you say no? And don't give me that bull about wanting to be at the party," she interrupted as he opened his mouth to say just that. "You and I both know that it will go perfectly well whether you're there or not."

Charles clutched a pillow to his chest. "I don't know. I just. . . it still hurts to see him. I don't know if I can handle a televised red carpet premiere."

"So you could handle a less public meeting?"

He frowned. "Not what I meant, Moira."

She grinned. "But it's what you implied."

Charles stuck his tongue out at her and she giggled before throwing an arm around him, tugging him close. He rested his head on her shoulder and the two of them sat there in silence for a couple minutes. Eventually, Moira said, "Okay, enough wallowing. I'll go get us both some more wine and you pick the movie." She kissed his cheek as she rose and he smiled fondly after her as he slid to the floor to pick out a movie, purposely ignoring the section with Erik's movies.

"Put the hood on, jeez."

Charles made a face. "It doesn't look right. I'm too short for this."

Moira frowned. "Charles, the outfit is not complete until you put on the hood. Come on; have a little fun! It is Halloween, after all."

"Yes, and you're ditching me!" He reluctantly flicked the green hood up over his head. He felt ridiculous. At least she hadn't insisted on the accompanying mask. It itched far too much.

"Now the bow, come on. Photo op!"

"I hate you."

Moira flapped a hand impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, you love me. Bow. Now."

With a heavy sigh, Charles picked up the bow from his desk and nocked an arrow, aiming it at his best friend. For a brief moment he wanted to fire. . . too bad it had a suction cup at the end instead of an arrowhead. "Happy?"

"Perfect!" Moira grinned as she took several photos. He had wanted to post pictures of the kids' costumes on the walls and she insisted that he be included in them. It was hard to say no to Moira when she got in one of her moods.

Charles asked, "Why am I dressed as Green Arrow again? And please don't say it's because you're lusting after Stephen Amell. . . although he is very handsome, I will give you that."

"Ha ha, Charles." Moira lowered her phone thankfully and he lowered the bow as well. How the hell was he supposed to carry this thing all night? "Green Arrow is a singles costume—which you wanted. He is also bad-ass because he has no supernatural abilities beyond expert archery skills and shit tons of money. Like you, minus archery skills." She moved closer and flicked his hood back an inch. "You make a cute Green Arrow."

He stabbed her with the suction cup arrow and she laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I have to go. You have fun with the kiddies. Try not to fall under some witch's spell."

Charles shook his head, fighting a smile. Moira never failed to lift his spirits. "I wish you would stay."

She replied, "I know and I'll try to swing by tomorrow to help with the cleanup." She put her coat on and he walked with her to the front doors. "Have fun, Charles."

"You too, Moira. And be safe." Charles watched her leave, took a deep breath, turned and headed for the gymnasium where the party was to be held in a few minutes.

An hour into the party, Charles got a text from his sister containing a photo—a selfie of her and Angel in their dresses, walking the red carpet and looking like they were having the best time of their lives. His throat felt tight as he sent a message back, telling her how beautiful they looked and he hoped they had fun.

As soon as he could, Charles ducked into his office and pulled up the live stream of the premiere, dumping the quiver and bow on the floor so he could sit. He told himself it was strictly to see the girls. That was it. No other reason. It finally loaded on a female reporter interviewing what looked to be the female star of the movie. Didn't look like Erik had arrived yet. He shook his head. He wasn't looking for Erik. He was looking for Raven and Angel.

The fans lining the carpet suddenly started screaming louder and his heart skipped a beat. Oh god oh god oh god.

The reporter turned, interrupted midsentence by the fans, and smiled widely at the camera. "Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like the star of the night has finally arrived! Erik Lensherr plays Briar Goldeye in the new film Battle Magic, being shown here tonight, and it looks like, yes, he's just stepping onto the carpet for photos. No, wait, he's heading for the fans lining the edge. Most of these folks have been here since yesterday, sleeping outside in the cold."

Charles remembered to breathe.

The stream switched to a male reporter. "What a fan favorite, Erik Lensherr is, always spending a bit of time to sign autographs or take a photo."

As he started in on Erik's film career, Charles tuned him out. He knew all of that. Knew every part of Erik's filmography. Intimately.

Erik looked fantastic in that black tuxedo. In fact. . . Charles frowned. "Is that. . ." The one he wore to the first premiere they attended together. Back when they were just starting out in Hollywood.

Eight years and it still hurt like it had just happened yesterday. How was that even possible? He took a shaky breath. I loved you, why did you leave me. . . ?

"And here he comes. . ." the female reporter was back on. "Erik, good to see you. How are you doing tonight? Excited, nervous?"

Erik grinned, showing his teeth. He laughed a little. "Good to see you, Michelle. Good to be back. I'm good, I'm good. Yeah, I guess you could say I'm a little of both tonight. You know, it's always that way with a new film getting released. You're excited because it's yours, you've spent time on it, you know you think it's good but you don't know what the public will think of it and that's rather nerve-wracking. Will they like it? Will they hate it? You never really know until you put it out there." He chuckled. "And I'm just an actor. I can't imagine what the director or writers are feeling."

"You said it was good to be back. Did you mean Palace Theatre or New York in general?"

"New York." Charles could swear Erik was looking right through the screen at him when Erik said, "It's been a while since I've been back here and I'm looking forward to getting reacquainted."

Someone shouted his name off camera and Erik spun, eyes wide in surprise. Charles let out a pained sound as Raven appeared—looking absolutely stunning in a floor length dark red dress—and Erik pulled her into a hug. Charles closed his eyes, swallowing against a tight throat. He should never have turned it on. Never should have even given himself the option of seeing Erik in real time, even through a computer screen.

Smiling widely, Michelle asked, "Who are these stunning beauties, Erik? Lucky fans who won a contest?"

Erik turned back to her and the camera, Raven and Angel on either side. "These are old friends of mine I haven't seen in years. Raven and Angel."

Michelle nodded knowingly. "So this is what you meant when you said you wanted to get reacquainted."

"Something like that." Erik's expression stiffened and a cloud passed over his eyes, so brief that Charles thought he'd imagined it. But the actor quickly reinstated his red carpet/interview persona.

Michelle held her microphone out to Raven and asked her about something Erik-related but Charles was beyond hearing. He slapped the keyboard, shutting the browser down, and just sat there, breathing hard.

He was over Erik. He was. He had to be.

And it was perfectly okay for Raven to hang out with him because. . . because she. . .

"Argh!" There was no way for him to be okay with that. She was his sister and should be on his side, no matter what.

Where was Moira when he needed her? She'd probably just say I told you so but he deserved that.

"Mistah Chawles?"

Charles swiped a hand across his eyes and looked up. "Yes, dear?"

Little Eva stood in the door. "My dwess wipped." She held up the hem, valiantly fighting back tears.

Duty calls. Charles cleared his throat, sniffed and stood. "Well we can't have that. Let's go find my sewing things and we'll fix that right up, what do you think about that, hmm, Eva?" He scooped the six-year-old into his arms and headed for the infirmary.