First chapter to Kinetica's contributions! I hope you guys enjoy it but please don't expect weekly updates. I do this for fun and I'm sorry if it takes me months to get this out, but you know that's the way it is sometimes.
Enjoy though!
"He's infuriating." Margaret turned to her younger companion beside her, a smirk playing on her lips. She grabbed her glass of red wine from the glossy wooden pub table in front of her and sipped the bitter liquid delicately before putting it back down again. She followed the blonde girls line of sight and focused on the young man at the bar. "It'll be hours before I actually get my drink now."
"Oh, come now Raven," Margaret smiled. Raven shot her a sly glare from the side of her eye, hiding a smile on her pretty face. "If he doesn't flirt with the students in the pub he'll never find himself a girlfriend, let alone a wife." Raven couldn't help the laugh that escaped her throat, shaking her head slightly at the woman beside her.
"We should mess with him," Raven offered, sipping her almost empty glass of cola. "I heard about that one anyway, she's a bitch."
"Raven," Margaret warned, looking at the girl. "Rumours are rarely true."
"Oh please, she totally looks bitchy," Raven argued, a hint of jealousy in her tone. Margaret merely rolled her eyes ad downed the last of her wine before standing swiftly. "What are you doing?"
"Messing with him," Margaret smiled, fixing her brunette hair in her reflection in the window behind Raven. The men drinking under it were smirking and eyeing her up, but she ignored them. "I need another drink, a soda for you was it?"
"With a splash of vodka," the blonde joked and Margaret merely shook her head.
"Mutant and proud." Margaret watched as the clinked glasses together, but slid up beside Charles with a confident and flirty smile on her face.
"Seems like I found my people," Margaret smiled. Charles almost choked on his pint beside her, getting a fright when she came up and wrapped an arm around his. "And who's this, Charles?"
He didn't want to look at her because he knew she'd make him laugh, instead he kept his eyes on the bar as he introduced the co-ed to Margaret, instantly forgetting the poor girls name.
"Margaret this is…" Charles looked up at the blonde university student expectantly, an apology in his eyes.
"Alice," she said finally.
"Right, Margaret this is Alice," he said, waving his hand between the two. "And Alice this is Margaret York." Margaret grinned brightly as her hand shot out to shake hers. Alice took it carefully, a small and awkward smile on her own face.
"Oh, Charles," Margaret said, putting on an air of idiocy. "You left Raven and I parched to death over there." He finally turned to look at her, suppressing his laughter with a shaky smile. She returned to look before turning to Alice in front of them. She looked beyond awkward, but still tried to keep up with the conversation.
"So, you have a 'mutation' then," she smiled, steering Charles and Margaret back to her. "What is it?"
Margaret looked at Charles, her eyebrows raising as she began to speak. With a peek into her mind he seen what she was going to say.
"Well, dear Alice, I can-" Charles elbowed her in the side, causing her to yelp suddenly and laugh it off as if she just sneezed. Poor Alice was looking beyond confused at the whole thing.
"What's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?" Charles and Margaret turned to Raven who strolled up behind them. Charles looked exasperated, while Margaret was still trying to hold in her laughter. "I'm Raven."
"Alice," she said, nodding her head slightly. The Co-Ed squinted her eyes as she looked at Raven, a small smile coming to her face. "Charles, she has heterochromia too."
"What?" Raven turned to Charles with an innocent smile. Charles sighed softly and threw a tired glance to Margaret before pulling out his wallet to pay for the drinks. "Get your coat Raven."
After a quick and overly dramatic goodbye to Alice, on Margaret's part, they left the pub. Margaret hurried after Charles as Raven struggled to get her coat on behind them. Margaret was still laughing softly.
"Relax, Charles," she said behind him. "We were only joking with you." He stopped in his tracks then and turned to her, swiftly, fixing his scarf around his neck. Raven caught up to them then, her leather jacket finally fixed on her body.
"You two did that on purpose," Charles accused, pointing at the both of them before continuing to walk ahead of them. Raven rolled her eyes as Margaret walked behind him again, taking his arm and turning him back to face them.
"We did not!" Raven defended, looking at Margaret. "Okay, maybe Margaret did it on purpose but that was just to mess with you." Margaret nodded in agreement with a shrug. "But you know I can't control it sometimes, like when I'm stressed or tired."
"Well you seem to be doing a pretty good job with it now," Charles muttered, turning again to walk away. Rather than stopping him, they followed on either side of him. Raven left out a tired breath.
"Mutant and proud," she mumbled, putting on a mock british accent. "Or is that only for pretty mutations, or invisible ones like yours or Maggie's?" Charles sighed beside her and stopped again, turning to look at Raven finally with a tired look in his eye. "If you're a freak you better hide!"
"You're being ridiculous," Charles scoffed. He looked at her directly then, shaking his head. "Look, I don't mean to sound like an old fart-"
"Which you are," Margaret and Raven declared in unison.
"Sometimes," Charles grumbled. "But we've talked about this before, Raven. A small slip up is one thing, a big one doesn't bare thinking about." Margaret looked at Raven, who gave her a short glance before sighing softly in defeat.
"Fine, fine," she said, throwing her hands up in surrender. "You're right." Charles nodded proudly then before continuing on ahead of them. Margaret linked her arm with Raven's, strolling slowly behind him. "She was pretty freaked out though. Well done, Margaret."
"Mutant and proud." Charles and Margaret glanced at one another from their seats. She relaxed in the large armchair while he sat hunched over his desk, fixing some minor errors on his dissertation. "Mutant and proud?" There was a silent pause before Margaret heard her spit out the toothpaste in her mouth. "If only."
Margaret turned the page of the book she read, hardly paying any attention to Charles or Raven as she relaxed into her chair. She's become so used to being in his flat that they were used to her being there too, sometimes would even find it odd not to turn and see her sitting in the same leather armchair she sat in now.
"Would you date me?" Now that got her attention. Margaret shut her book with a dull snap and eyed Raven curiously. Charles didn't even look at her when he answered.
"Of course I would," he said, scribbling some note onto a page in front of him. Raven sighed and glanced at Margaret, who shrugged her shoulders at the blue-skinned girl. "Any young man would be lucky to have you, you are stunning."
"Looking like this," she said finally. Charles looked up then and his eyes went wide as a quiet "What" fell from his mouth.
"Bl-Blue?" Raven's eyes fell to the floor then, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "You're my oldest friend."
"I'm your only friend," she said with a roll of her eyes.
"Not true," he said defensively. "I have Margaret."
"She's only your friend so you'll buy her drinks at the pub," Raven sighed. Margaret smirked from her seat, shrugging when Charles looked at her. "Well?"
"I'm incapable of thinking of you like that," Charles argued, picking up his dissertation and moving to the sofa beside Margaret. "I feel responsible for you, anything else would just feel wrong."
"But what if you didn't know me?" Raven asked, moving to stand in the middle of the room. Charles sighed as he flipped the page of his hardback, opening it up to his desired page.
"Sadly, I do know you," Charles said before shaking his head with confusion. "I don't know what's gotten into you, you're awfully concerned with your looks."
Raven turned to Margaret with a sigh. "What about you?"
Margaret glanced at Charles who turned his attention to their exchange. Margaret shrugged at the blue girl.
"If I was a man, or even if I was a woman who was attracted to women, I'd be happy to date you," Margaret smiled. She stood up then and took the younger girls face in her hands, pinching her cheeks. "You're far too adorable to pass up, my dear." Raven swatted her hands away with a whine and Margaret and Charles laughed at her discomfort. The blue skinned girl shot a harmless glare towards Margaret before she sighed and dropped onto the sofa beside Charles, leaning her back against him.
"I'm sleepy," she said. "Will you read to me?"
"I can't I have my thesis coming up, I have to study," Charles sighed. Raven scoffed a laugh.
"Then read that, your thesis always sends me right off." Margaret grabbed her coat off the back of the armchair she sat on and plucked her shoes up from the floor. She crossed the room then, pulling her short heels onto her feet with a smile as Raven shut her eyes slowly.
"I'll leave you two, then," Margaret said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to each of their heads.
"You'll be at my presentation tomorrow, yes?" Charles asked, struggling to turn with Raven lying against him. Margaret smiled has she turned to latch on the door.
"Of course, I wouldn't miss it," she said. "Goodnight, Charles."
"Goodnight, love. Safe home." She smiled softly as she shut the door, snapping the latch shut behind her. She threw up the collar on her coat and set off home, using her powers to keep the rain from falling onto her.
….
The crowd chanted and cheered as Charles downed the large, oversized glass of lager. Margaret and Raven cheered from the front, clapping and chanting along with the rest of the drunk patrons. After tipping his head back with the glass, Charles finished the drink and let out a victorious roar while everyone applauded his effort. He stumbled down off the chair, which Margaret helped him down off.
"I'm so proud of you!" Raven exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. Charles laughed heartily, pulling back and swinging the glass back and forth with a chuckle.
"I need another drink and you need another cola," he said, a smile on his face. "And a glass of wine for Margaret." She nodded her head happily, letting go of his arm as he stumbled off towards the bar with a smile.
Raven and her sat down at the table again, pulling up the stools that were pushed to the side to allow room for the small crowd he had gathered. Margaret turned in her seat, furrowing her brow confusedly when she seen Charles moving to take a seat with another woman.
"Raven," she said. The blonde girl looked at Margaret then, turning in her chair to look were she looked. "Who is that? She doesn't look like his usual conquests." Raven turned back to Margaret then with a sly smirk on her lips.
"Are you jealous?" Margaret looked at the girl with confusion then.
"Of course not!" she said, a bit too defensively. Raven chuckled at her reaction but Margaret tossed a cardboard coaster in her direction. "You irritate me. Honestly, she looks far too serious to be taking him seriously." Even though Raven had stopped paying attention to Charles and the woman, Margaret watched as his body language changed considerably. He raised two fingers and rested them on his temple. He was reading her mind, she realised.
When she seen him straighten and the woman's expression become very serious and professional, Margaret knew something was going on. She watched as they both stood, shook hands and walk away from one another. The woman left the pub then, leaving Charles to walk back over to their table.
"Charles?" Charles looked down at Margaret, noting the confusion and nervousness in her expression. Even without telepathic abilities, Margaret knew when something was wrong with Charles. "What's wrong?"
"We have to go," he said suddenly. The two girls looked at each other quizzically, before standing and throwing their coats on over their dresses. They followed Charles out of the pub, struggling to keep up as he hurried in the direction of his flat.
"Charles! Tell us what is going on," Margaret urged, stopping him when she grabbed his arm. "What happened?"
He had a small smile on his face, an excited one. She had never seen him like this, as giddy as he was.
"Margaret," he said, grabbing her forearms and staring at her with bright and excited eyes. "There's more of us. I always knew there had to be more, and there is." Margaret's own face broke out into a smile and she began shaking her head in disbelief.
"Are you sure?" Raven asked beside them. He turned to her then, breaking away from Margaret. He nodded with certainty then before walking away from them. "What are we going to do then?"
"We're all going to go pack," he shouted from where he was. Margaret and Raven exchanged a curious look with one another. "We're going to America."
Oxford, England. 1959.
"What are you doing?" Margaret looked at her long-time friend through her vanity mirror. She applied her lipstick lightly, fixing the already applied red stain that smudged slightly in the centre of her lips. After she pressed her lips together to spread the colour and blotted them lightly with a tissue, she turned on her seat to smile at him.
"I'm going out, Charles," she said, standing and walking by him to sit on her bed. "I have a date." Charles eyed the girl curiously, his brow creasing slightly as he stared at her. Margaret didn't have to be a mind reader to know he was confused. He knew she rarely dated, and when she did she wasn't exactly excited or happy over it. Usually her dates were set up by other friends or her mother, but this one was different. "I met him in a pub down the road. He walked me home."
"You met him in a pub? Do you even know this bloke?" Charles asked, arms crossed and father-like stance equipped, the one he would usually use when scowling Raven for staying out late or not calling him if she was going to be late.
Margaret rolled her eyes at him and leaned down to fish her shoes out from under her bed. "No, Charles, I do not." He noticed they were her expensive shoes. She wore them when she met his parents the year before, hoping to impress them with her pricey heels. "That's the whole point of going on this date. To get to know one another." After a forceful tug she had her heels on and she stood up to face him, standing a little taller than him now thanks to their height. "Remind me to take the key to my flat off you, too. You're using that key far too liberally."
"But who is he? Have you even seen him before?" Charles pestered. Margaret watched him closely, furrowing her brow suspiciously.
"Why do you care so much?" she finally asked. Charles was shocked into a short silence as he tried to think of something to say. He didn't actually know why he felt so protective over her. It wasn't the same way he was protective with Raven, no, it was different.
"Well, because…."
"Because?" He looked at her as she crossed her arms and waited for an answer from him, eyes like daggers as they glared at him suspiciously.
"Because you don't know him! He could be Jack the Ripper for all you know!" he protested, causing Margaret to throw her arms in the air in frustration and brush past him.
"He only killed prostitutes, Charles," she said. She paused then and turned to face him slowly, her eyebrow raised. "Are you calling me a prostitute?"
"What?! No, of course not," he sputtered defensively. Margaret looked at him accusatorily for a moment before turning again and grabbing her handbag from the small table near the kitchen. "You know what I meant, Margaret. And I really don't think you should go out with this man."
A knock sounded from the door, causing both their heads to snap in the direction of it and freeze in their spot. Before Margaret could stop him, Charles sprang into action and hurried towards the door before her. Margaret grabbed and pulled at his navy jumper to stop him, but he was too quick for her. After quite the struggle, Charles fell into the door and finally swung it open.
"Marg- Oh." Charles and Margaret's date stared at one another in silence for a moment. "Is uh, Margaret in?" he asked awkwardly. Charles eyed the man, his mind rooting through his head instantly. He was well dressed, the mind read thought to himself, just as Margaret was. An expensive restaurant, Charles thought.
Even though Charles remained silent as he fished through the man's mind, Margaret rushed over and pulled the door from Charles' hand, opening it wider.
"Peter! Come in, please. I'm sorry about my friend," she smiled, allowing Peter to walk in past her and Charles. Before she continued speaking to Peter, she shot Charles a Get out of his head sort of look. Charles ignored her request however.
"Xavier. Charles Xavier," Charles said, a rudeness to his introduction. "And you are?" He shot out his hand for Peter to shake, which he did after a brief pause.
"Peter Baxter," he greeted, a polite smile on his face. He was handsome, which didn't surprise Charles, Margaret wouldn't have gone out with him if she didn't find him physically attractive as well as emotionally. Margaret had slipped into her bedroom however, but both men hardly noticed as they seemed to be sizing one another up, or at least Charles was. "Xavier… I've heard that name before." Peter dropped his hands as the realization dawned on him, pointing a well-meaning finger at him. "You're that bloody genius, aren't you? I hear some of my mates talking about you at the pub."
"Only good things I hope," Charles said, good naturedly. Peter's eyebrows rose, suggesting they weren't all good things. Charles gave him a tight lipped smile, deciding to fish deeper into his mind. He was examining his memory of meeting Margaret, how he annoyingly called her Maggie and how he bought her another drink, even if she had already drank well over her own personal limit. He had noticed however that she was laughing and enjoying herself in this man's company, how she touched his arm and fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously.
"Sorry about that." Both men turned quickly towards Margaret, who stood with her hair finally curled and moved away from her face with a pin. Her makeup was simple, but the red lipstick added a touch of elegance to her look. The dainty and fake pearl necklace her mother gave her hung close to her neck, with her expensive dress her mother also bought her and her expensive heels on her as well to finish her look. "I had to finish my hair."
Margaret felt a pang of… something in her gut when her eyes didn't fall on Peter, but on her mutant friend standing beside him. Was it guilt? She should have felt guilty for not admiring the handsome half-stranger the same way he was admiring her, but she wasn't sure. But Charles was looking at her the same way. Luckily, Peter hadn't noticed.
"Wow, Maggie, you look amazing," Peter said, leaning down and giving her a soft peck on the cheek. Rather forward, Margaret thought to herself. "We should head now if we want to make it on time." Margaret nodded softly, finally pulled out of whatever haze she felt there for a second. She turned to Charles, pulling him in for a tight hug and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, using her thumb to wipe away any lipstick that stuck there.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, smiling softly at him before taking Peter's arm and following him out the door.
A knock came from his front door.
It was late, very late in fact. Raven was fast asleep in her own room, but Charles was still up editing his presentation he was to do the week after. He got up from the leather sofa in the sitting room, focusing on the mind outside. He furrowed his brow at the head he found himself in before unlocking the door quickly and swinging it open.
"Wasn't Prince Charming after all, then?" Margaret rolled her eyes at him. Her heels were held in her left hand and her lipstick was smudged slightly. She brushed past him and let her heels fall from her hands, but her power let them fall slowly and softly, knowing that Raven would be asleep at this time. Her coat was pulling it's off of her, even while she used one hand to take her earrings out. Charles watched and followed silently as the coat hung itself up on the hooks beside the door where other coats were thrown haphazardly. Margaret threw herself down onto the couch with a sigh.
"I thought he was going to be…. Alright, you know?" she mumbled. "He was alright, wasn't he?" Charles sent her a sure and confident "No!" from the kitchen near the living area, where he prepared two cups of tea. "I mean he was nice enough. He was handsome, well dressed and from what I gathered from the girls he was rich enough too with and good-ish family." Charles returned to the sitting room and handed her a mug, before sitting beside her on the sofa.
"What happened?" he asked. She sipped gently from the mug, careful not to burn herself so it was a few seconds before he got his answer. After a pained face from the heat of the tea, she answered him.
"It was going alright. Although, he did keep saying I seemed distracted, which was pissing me right off," she said, using her free hand to animatedly tell her story along with her words. Charles watched silently. "We went to a nice restaurant and then we went for a dance, the usual. But as he was walking me home, he was getting very…. Handsy." Charles would've loved to punch him. "He pushed me against a wall and it was very dark, you see, so no one seen us. He was kissing me and I kept saying no, no this is disgusting but he carried on and-"
"Oh, Margaret, did he do something?" Charles asked worriedly. After another sip of her now cooled tea, she shook her head.
"No, I'm fine. He, however, got flung into a wall," she sighed, shaking her head tiredly. Charles smirked beside her. "He was fine though, he was breathing after I kicked him in the gut and ran." Charles couldn't hide the grin on his face then.
"So, no more dates with Mr. Baxter, then?" he asked and she shook her head in response, ending the conversation. After a moment or two of silence and tea sipping, he asked, "Why were you distracted?"
"Hmm?"
"Why were you distracted? You said you were distracted all evening," Charles stated. He was genuinely curious, but didn't want to snoop in her mind for the answer. Margaret stared ahead for a moment, knowing the answer already but not wanting to tell him. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress for a second before answer him.
"Oh, no reason. I was just thinking about how bad of a date it was," she laughed, awkwardly. Charles noticed her sudden shift in behaviour but didn't say anything as she stood suddenly, placing her tea on the table in front of her. "Do you have any biscuits?"
Charles watched over the sofa as she padded quietly into the kitchen and standing on her tiptoes to look into the cupboards. He didn't want to, but he wasn't happy with the vague and suspicious answer he got off her, so he peeked into her head. And it confirmed what he was secretly hoping to find.
Throughout the whole course of Margaret's evening, she wasn't thinking about how much of an arse Peter was being to the staff at the restaurant or how his hands ventured lower than she would have liked while they dance. No, her thoughts were on someone else entirely. And that was her mutant friend sitting on the sofa in the room opposite her.
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