"Fancy seeing you here."

Mr. Xavier nearly dropped the thermos in his hand. Those interesting eyes of his widened with stark surprise when they saw Erik. If it had not already been obvious that the sudden interaction was not expected, then it certainly was made clear by his gaping. Xavier's gaze was ringed by a faint double shadow of fatigue this time. Maybe the young guidance counselor had had a late night of work. Or might it have been heavy playing that had kept him up? Thinking of the possibilities could have proven to be quite the distraction.

"Mister Lehnsherr, what-" Xavier might have been about to say, what are you doing here, but then thought better of it. "How nice to see you again."

"That one yours?" Erik had seen a small boy running in front of Xavier when they had exited his Gremlin (an outrageous and inexplicable choice of vehicle for the straight-laced academic that the man appeared to be), and did not think that there was much if any familial resemblance. Still, it stood to reason that the boy was Xavier's son. It was possible; Xavier looked young to Erik, but old enough at least to have fathered a child. Even if that child looked almost nothing like him.

Charles blinked at the question, then at the boy, and obviously struggled to regain his scattered wits. "No...well, yes, but... I am just watching him. He's my nephew."

"I see."

"Yes. My sister had pressing business outside of the city, and she couldn't take Kurt along, so I agreed to look after him. He was terribly bored in my apartment, so..." The flood of words came to an end in a fit of self-conscious realization on Xavier's part that he was rambling. He had forgone the cardigan today, Erik noticed. In its place was a light and casual sweater in a very flattering shade of...purple?...that left his arms bare below the elbows and showed the outline of his body perfectly. It was especially noticeable when he stood up a little straighter and cleared his throat. "Well, you know how it is."

"I do," said Erik. The Lehnsherrs too had come to the park due to boredom, among other reasons. If they had remained at home it was only a matter of time before an argument erupted and Pietro would shut himself into his bedroom and they would hardly speak to one another for the rest of the day. Here, at least, there was a greater chance that they would find something fun to do together.

Erik wondered if he was making the shorter man nervous. It would not be the first time that his mere presence and his direct eye contact had caused discomfiture in another person. To alleviate some of it - and to keep himself from staring as well - he turned his attention toward the playground. Quickly he found Pietro climbing up the imitation rock wall, hands and feet carefully searching for purchase before his chosen step was tested by his full weight. Next to him, the younger child - Kurt - shot up the very same piece of equipment as if he were born in a tree and had spent every moment of his life swinging through branches and hiking up sheer cliffs. The look on Pietro's face when he saw this was amusing even at a distance.

Erik had not been watching for Xavier, of course. There was no logical reason for him to expect to have seen the man that day. It was dumb luck that he had happened to catch the flash of bright green that was the Gremlin pulling into the parking lot nearby, and when the driver side door had opened, Erik did not believe his own eyes. He must have been imagining things, he thought. As it turned out, his vision had not failed him; it was Mr. Xavier walking casually up to the main portion of the playground, on the trail of an extremely energetic, olive-skinned little boy who shouted for his attention the whole time.

He looked better than any of the previous times that Erik had seen him. Their brief chats had always taken place on school property, where a teacher was expected to dress appropriately. His position demanded an aesthetic that made him resemble a librarian, and while that was most assuredly not a bad look for him...this more laid-back outfit was preferable. It spoke of how he was as a man, when he was not holding up the image of his title. Erik had told himself that there was no reason for him to approach. Plenty of people showed up at the park on days like this one. No communication between them was required beyond perhaps a distant nod or a wave. Before he quite realized it, his treacherous feet were carrying him closer and a greeting had sprung to his lips, and now they stood side by side, watching the children in a slightly awkward silence.

"How is Pietro today?" Xavier broke the stalemate with a smile.

Immediately, the automatic reply of He's fine appeared at the forefront of Erik's mind. Most anyone who had ever deigned to ask him about his son had received just such a guarded monotone answer. It wasn't anyone's business what was happening with Pietro, save for the boy and his father. This time, though, Erik found himself extending that sentiment into something more, while his eyes followed the subject about which he was speaking. The sun caught in Pietro's hair and revealed the silvery dust hidden in the darkness, he noted. It was becoming harder and harder to hide it. "He seems to be well enough. Not that he would tell me, if he wasn't."

"He'll come around."

Xavier sounded very certain of this. So much so that it caused Erik to glance over at him once more, as though he might be able to see written across the younger man's features just how much he knew about Pietro and about the Lehnsherrs as a whole. Of course, Erik trusted his son. After years of keeping their past a secret, they were both very adept at concealment. Accidents did happen, of course, and Pietro was only a child. This would be the first time that he had let slip anything substantial enough to incriminate either of them - if indeed that was what the boy had done. Barring that, Erik was not certain how else the truth could have been found out. Unless Charles Xavier was an unnaturally good detective, and he did not look the part. He looked...harmless.

If Erik really wanted to get into that pretty head and find out what might or might not be wheedled out of his son during these mysterious private conversations held under the pretense of unofficial therapy, he knew that the best way to do so was to ingratiate himself with Xavier. Over the years his naturally standoffish demeanor had evolved into a rather unsavory and cold disposition, but when he cared to put his mind to it, the German-born ferrokinetic mutant could be manipulative. He could take steps toward making a person think that they liked him. He could make them trust him. It was how he was always able to find work even when other men could not, his various physical trade talents notwithstanding.

"I suppose I should apologize for...my behavior the other day. What happened to Pietro wasn't your fault." He tried for a smile and it felt like the grimace of a cornered ape.

Xavier flashed his own far more brilliant grin back, and it came with the distinct impression of a man humoring another man. As though he knew that the almost-apology was merely a ruse, yet he was willing to accept it for its face value nonetheless. "It was an upsetting situation for everyone," he said lightly. After a moment, he started to take advantage the open door that had been left by the older man: "Mister Lehnseherr, I was wondering-"

"Mister Xavier?" Pietro appeared out of nowhere, his features dusted with red from his exertion in the mildly chilly weather. Anyone could look at him and see that he was shocked to see a teacher outside of school. It screamed from his fair, screwed up brows and the incredulity of his tone.

"Hello, Pietro! How are you today?" Charles was laughing immediately. To Erik it looked like he was as delighted by the confusion he had inspired as much as by the unexpected appearance of one of his students.

Now that he had confirmed that it was indeed his guidance counselor out in public like any normal person, Pietro was not sure what to do with that information. He shuffled the toe of one sneaker against the wood chips on the ground. "'M all right."

"It's a beautiful day today, isn't it?" said Xavier.

Quite beautiful, thought Erik as he watched Xavier speak with his son. Neither of the Lehnsherrs quite knew how to accept this upbeat behavior. It was so unlike the commonly bitter and dark attitudes of many New Yorkers and indeed, of many people throughout the world. Somehow Xavier's presence made them feel brighter themselves, and neither of them knew why or how. Erik's reaction was curiosity; he wanted to study it and figure it out and bask within the rays of more of it. Pietro wanted to meander his way away from it before it infected him and stole away his ability to keep up his negative facade. Neither of them made a move to subtract themselves from it completely as of yet, and Xavier chuckled and smiled at them all the more like a man who knew of their inner struggles, and knew as well that he could disarm them with a bit of positivity.

Soon enough, Kurt joined the strange little party. He ran around and around his uncle, whooping and swinging his stuffed toy to and fro and kicking wood chips all over everyone.

"Kurt, these are my friends. This is Erik, and this is Pietro." Charles ran his fingertips over the small boy's black hair in a futile attempt to tame it as Kurt thundered past for the third time.

"I have a monkey," Kurt informed Pietro, and then Erik, respectively.

"What is his name?" asked Erik.

This question had evidently not been asked of the child as of yet, nor had it ever entered the lightening-quick sphere of the consciousness common to many six-year-olds. He was given great pause by it, and he stood in hard contemplation for a stretch of time that was not so common to him. What to name his most prized possession? His face squeezed up with concentration and he examined the animal held between his small hands. Finally, he beamed up at Erik and announced his choice: "Banana! Because...'cause...monkeys like bananas, so...so it sh' be his name!"

"Perfect." This time when the elder Lehnsherr smiled, it didn't feel forced at all. He was thinking of when Pietro had been as young as the bouncy little creature in front of him was now, and it brought from deep down inside of him a rare flash of true warmth that showed on his face. Those days had been happier. Simpler. He missed them - he missed his son.

"Where'd you get it?" Pietro asked of Kurt.

"My Mommy gived him to me today. She buyed him cause he's special. She went to the den-tissst. Where is your Mommy?" Kurt spun on the spot as he scanned the park for a woman who was likely, in his mind, to be Pietro's mother. His innocent question and the way that it was delivered did not take any weight from the very complicated answer that no one seemed to want to give him.

Pietro's reaction was to retreat into himself. It could be witnessed to happen. His shoulders twitched in a half-shrug and then slumped, his pale eyes dropping toward the ground. Honestly, he too wanted to know where his mother was. Unlike the smaller child, however, he knew better than to ask. Doing so would only cause his father to become exasperated and angry, and no helpful solution would come of that. Deep down, he knew that not even Erik was aware of the whereabouts of Magda nor whether she would ever show her face again. It made him feel somehow better to think that his dad was intentionally keeping her from him, though. That way, no one could say that she was not here with him because she didn't want to be there with him.

Charles dove in to the rescue, maybe because his trained psychological instincts told him it was time to change the subject. "Kurt, why don't we fetch the soccer ball from the car and have a game?"

"BALL! BALL!" Kurt agreed, jumping up and down in place.

"Care to join us?" Xavier's most winning grin was unleashed full force upon both of the remaining members of their unlikely circle. "It will be far more fun for everyone if you do."