Takes place during First Class, right after Erik has subdued Emma Frost.
"There – and she won't go into her diamond form again. She's all yours." Erik turned his back, waving almost dismissively.
Charles took a breath. But before he could focus his thoughts and invade her… there she was.
Her presence in his head was bright, sharp, almost painful. So is this what you boys get up to once the lights go down?
"What?" he hissed aloud. At Erik's startled glance he revised himself, and said the rest straight into her mind. What are you talking about?
This. She twisted her wrists against the metal that bound her. A bit too quick with the bedposts, there. Don't tell me this was his first time.
"Oh, for-" He ran a hand through his hair and protested: Listen, I don't know what you're talking about. But at that, she flooded his mind with images of leather-clad people brandishing whips, so he shook his head hard and clarified: I mean, I understand what you're talking about. But it's not like that, him and me. Not at all.
She smirked at him. What a shame. He could probably show a straight-edge like you the time of your life.
Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by a loud snort. Erik. "Don't you think I've thought of that?"
Charles could feel his eyes rounding and his mouth falling open. "Did you just-…?"
Erik looked amused and almost pitying. "Charles, it's written all over your face."
He tried to close his mouth.
"The woman, if you please. Pay attention to the woman, Charles. Go on. Shush, come on…. Calm your mind…"
Erik wasn't very good at soothing, but still the reminder was enough. Charles relaxed, focused, and turned his attention back to their prisoner.
The force of her mental sneer gave him a headache. I told you so.
The End.
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