It was not easy standing there, doing nothing, while Hank started the machine. Just before the torturous looking device began to glow, Charles met his concerned stare with a warm, confident gaze. Erik half expected him to wink, but then the hum of the machine grew louder and Charles closed his eyes. Charles was steady and calm, at first, but within seconds his composure broke. For an instant Erik feared that the contraption would cause Charles pain, but he quickly revised that thought as Charles reached for the railing before him. His hands gripped tight as a gasp of what could only be described as pleasure fairly wracked his frame. His eyes opened once more, staring but not seeing. His face was a vision of astonished joy, and later, Erik would reflect on that moment with longing. He would never have been able to imagine that face filled with such abandoned rapture; pale cheeks flushed, mouth slack and trembling- if he had not seen it for himself.

Several long moments passed, with only the sounds of Charles' increasingly labored breathing and the obnoxious clacking of the printer filling the cavernous space. Erik was transfixed, staring at Charles as if he'd never seen him before. Sweat began to bead on the younger man's brow and lip and he shook, visibly weakened by the consuming power. Still Erik stared, silent, as the color began to drain from Charles's face and he sagged, supporting himself on the rail. It was only when Charles buckled slightly, letting his head fall forward into his chest, that Erik said, "McCoy…I think you'd better shut it down."

"No!" Charles exclaimed, chin still down but his eyes were now on Erik. They were too bright, manic and unsettling in contrast with their normal equanimity. Erik paused again, this time in surprise as a throb of heat erupted in his gut. Their gazes locked and Erik could feel his own pulse start to race. An image came to his mind of Charles looking at him like that…but from beneath him, against a background of linens and pillows. His thoughts replayed the sharp intake of breath as the machine opened Charles' mind and suddenly it was pure pornography. Then there was only the alarm, a jarring, repetitive beep that startled him from his daze. The machine stopped at once, as if unplugged, and Charles dropped to his knees.

"Automatic shut down; Cerebro is equipped to monitor the heart rate of its subject and disengage when it became dangerous," Hank explained, rushing to his mechanical paramour as Raven immediately went to Charles's side.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice full of concern and no small amount of admiration. She slipped behind him, offering support.

Charles still held Erik's gaze and seemed unable to speak. He nodded, finally lowering his eyes and wiping a hand across his sweaty brow. "I'm….I'll be fine…I just…need a moment." His voice was not much more than a whisper.

McCoy was there, next, carefully removing the helmet from Charles' head. "Let me check your blood pressure; you've used an extraordinary amount of energy and could be facing vasovagal syncope."

Erik came to himself enough to smirk down at his friend and say "Do you hear that Charles? The good doctor thinks you are about to faint."

Charles returned his smile and shook his head, dislodging a mass of damp curls to fall across his eyes. Erik felt that throb in his groin once again. "He may be right, Erik. I feel…most peculiar."

Erik pressed his lips together and stepped back. "I'll leave you to it, then. "

"No!" Raven said before he could leave. "He needs to rest, but not here. Could you help him back to his room?" She looked at him rather meaningfully, even pleadingly. Ah, he thought, to be alone with McCoy…he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. She did seem rather enamored of the boy.

"Don't be silly, Raven. I'll be just fine," Charles said, his hand outstretched to Erik for help. He smiled when Erik obliged, hauling him to his feet. Upon standing, however, his knees gave way and he fell directly onto Erik.

Raven rolled her eyes. "I could carry you, myself, and you know it, but think about what those G-men would say if they saw that." She stood, carefully brushing down her skirt, and said, "I think it would be better if Erik helped you walk back. Please cooperate, or I'll throw you over my shoulder."

Erik couldn't stop his grin. "That would be something. Please, Charles, do continue to be obstinate."

"Stop encouraging her," Charles muttered, but allowed Erik to support him while they made their way out of the sphere.

"You seemed to enjoy that, myszki," Erik teased as they crossed the grassy field to the compound.

"Yes, well, I may be British by birth, but I make a habit of enjoying myself at least twice a year. You should try it, Erik."

Erik started to say he enjoyed himself quite often. The Swiss banker - yanking out that filling had been a pleasure. The pig farmer and the tailor were a perfect capper to a hot afternoon. And laying waste to the yacht? Gargantuan pleasure, at least until Shaw's submarine launched. Then it was back to the usual – grief, frustration, rage, his personal unholy trinity …

Erik had been ready to die to shake them off, to feel real pleasure once more. He would have drowned to drag Shaw's vessel back, to extract his vengeance. But then he'd felt it, a voice inside his head sparking a very different sort of pleasure…

You are not alone…

"And what does myszki mean?" Charles tried to pull away, to prove he could walk unassisted. Erik's grip tightened, his arm slipping more securely around Charles's waist.

"It means lab rat," he answered, monotone. He cast a quick glance to Charles in time to see him smile.

"Adorable lab rat?"

Erik said nothing.

"I really can walk by myself, now, Erik," Charles said, once again trying to remove his arm from Erik's shoulders.

"Do I need to call Raven?"

Charles laughed a little and went a little limper in his grip. "Wouldn't you rather throw me over your own shoulder?"

"Don't tempt me," Erik said, hefting Charles roughly but securely as the reached the entrance to the living quarters. He had to admit the thought was provocative.

When he said he knew everything about me – does he know that, too? Erik wondered.

"Get the door, myszki."

"Can't you do it?" At Erik's dark look, Charles obliged. "As you wish, gatto."

Erik was surprised by Charles's impish behavior, but was also disarmed by it, just the same. "What did that machine do to you? You're acting…"

Charles giggled – My God, he giggled, could he be anymore of an ingénue? Erik thought – and said, "Drunk, Erik. I feel quite inebriated, but on the best, warmest, most heavenly ambrosia!" He looked up at Erik with a brilliant smile. "It opened my mind to others, hundreds, thousands…there are so many of us, Erik! So many more than we ever imagined. And it's wide-spread…not just America or Europe, but all points of the globe. Think of it, Erik!"

Erik was thinking of it, of how many things could go horribly wrong.

"Mio gatto," Charles said, his voice was warm, full of…affection. He pulled himself up closer to Erik's face, stretching as far as he could and using his arm around Erik's neck for support. "Don't dwell on dark thoughts. We are at the start of a new world!"

Their noses were nearly touching. Erik could feel Charles's breath on his face and see pale freckles across Charles's nose. "You said you wouldn't," he chided, albeit softly.

"I don't need to enter your thoughts when you frown like that," Charles said, his other hand coming up to trace the lines on his forehead with one finger.

They were only a few feet from Charles's room but they were no longer moving.

"Gatto?" Erik asked, leaning a bit closer. He was enthralled by the closeness; by Charles's eyes and their many shades of dark blue, by the slowly spreading blush appearing on his cheeks. When Charles licked his lips, his eyes fell to watch.

"In response to rat; it was all I could think of at the time. And, it does…rather suit you."

He tilted his head, still regarding Charles's mouth. "Cat and mouse…doesn't the cat torture and devour the mouse?"

At the word 'devour', Charles actually shivered. "Well, yes. But he plays with him first. Can't we start there?"

He doesn't know what he's saying, Erik told himself, trying to ignore a powerful stirring below the belt. He needs to sleep this off, and I need a drink. He'll thank me in the morning.

Opening the door to Charles's barracks, Erik steered the other man inside, straight toward the short, narrow twin bed. Decorated with nothing but a curved steel rail at head and foot, it was made up with a light blue bedspread and the flattest, saddest pillow Erik had ever seen. Soviet militiamen slept in more luxurious beds.

"I think the word 'adorable' is worth revisiting," Charles announced, trying and failing to exude scholarly detachment. "You have an excellent command of the English language. So when you chose that particular adjective—"

"The subject was rat, Charles. Stay focused on rat." Erik pushed the other man onto the bed. "Don't just sit there. Lie back, close your eyes, and rest. If you want to play darts later, I'll be in the bar."

"I'm not hurling metal implements against you, I have a strange feeling you'll win. Chess would be better. Erik, don't go yet," Charles called as Erik moved resolutely toward the door. "Suppose I need a doctor? Take a look at my pupils; tell me if they're dilated."

Startled, Erik pivoted back toward Charles. Was he being too dismissive? Could the other man be in real distress?

Returning to the bedside, Erik leaned down to stare into the other man's eyes. Still so beautiful. Still so blue. "Perhaps a little, nothing too—"

Charles caught Erik's face in both hands, drawing him close for a kiss.