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Chapter 4

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Okay, fun was over and down to business it was. Almost apprehensively, he made his way to his destination. Scott now spent his time mulling over things. What was that Jubilee once said? he asked himself. Oh yeah. 'Are you sure? I mean, this is the big M and all.' It was how he felt, after all. He was going to meet a man he had never spoken two civil words to. The last time he had seen this man, he had shot him off the top of a statue. Of course he was going to be nervous.

Wasn't every day he went to see Magneto.

Scott sighed. It was time to quit pussyfooting around. He parked his car in the visitor's section of the facility and strode quickly to the front door, praying that the professor's advice would pay off. He would need it if he was going to get past the security checkpoint at the front door where the guards were sure to stop him.

Of course they did. "Can we help you?" one asked, more than skeptical about the ruby glasses. Scott had opted for the glasses over the visor. Imposing, but not a dead give-away as to who he was. If he had worn the visor there would be 'X-Men' sighting reports all over the tabloids. Probably would try to connect him to an attempted Magneto-escape. Yes, definitely a very good thing he had not worn the visor.

However, now was the time to pull out the professor's status. "Yes. I'm here for Charles Xavier. I wish to speak with Erik Lehnsherr."

The other guard snorted his laughter. "Maximum security level with just a name? Yeah, right buddy. I'm going to need identification and proof you're here for who you say you're here for. And that's just the start."

Well, at least we're not stuck with imbeciles guarding the country's most feared terrorist, he assured himself as he presented him with the papers they wanted. Xavier had given him and Jean several forms that would get them each into almost any mutant-related facility they wished but Scott had rarely used them. Now, however, he pulled that trump card. Although they were obviously still suspicious of him--as they probably were of everyone--the guards let him pass. That was one station behind him. Now was the point where he could really start getting nervous.

The next security stop was much more thorough. Here sat one of the few mutant government employees. She was a young woman of considerable telepathic skill who was somehow also very well trusted, a rare feat for a mutant. Her cool blue eyes leveled him as her voice echoed in his ears, telling him to remain calm. Scott had no problem with this, he had experienced telepathic intrusion before and gave her the information she needed while discretely blocking the rest. She relayed what she found back to the guard standing behind her and Scott was clear to pass. She spoke verbally to him and mentally to the guards, not wanting him to know she was a mutant. Scott was fine with that--after all, he had been keeping the same information from her.

The following and final security checkpoint was for his own safety. He was to walk through a metal detector, one fine tuned enough to tell if he so much as had a filling in his mouth that was too large. Once again, Scott was grateful for wearing his glasses. No metal in those, none at all. Besides, he had made sure to remove anything metal he might have been wearing before he got out of the car. Scott knew exactly who he was going to be dealing with and chose to not take any chances.

When he finally got to the cell itself he found it utterly amazing. An entire prison made out of plastic. Forcing himself not to gape he followed the final guard through an expanding plastic tunnel and into the cell that held Magneto himself. It was a neat and tidy place, if a bit small, but it was obvious that Erik was keeping it as clean as he could. The older man wore solid white, an ensemble that made his hair look like a glowing halo surrounding his head. Well, it would have if Scott's glasses didn't dye it all pink. To him it was in fact rather humorous.

If Erik had been the type of man to smirk, he would have done so now. But he was not so instead he simply offered Scott a seat at the opposite side of his chess table while he himself sat down. "Welcome," he greeted him. "Yours is a face I am not used to seeing around these parts." He gestured to the board between them. "Do you play?"

Scott was hesitant to do anything but proper decorum and common knowledge told him that if he wanted to get any information out of the man he needed to be first of all polite. He took the seat that was offered to him and accepted the suggestion for chess. Two mind battles at the same time could bear interesting results. "I actually came to talk about a few old business associates of yours," he said, waiting for his host to make the first move on the board.

Which he did--one pawn, forward one square. "I am afraid that I do not know much about their recent whereabouts." Erik smiled. "Information about any former employees of mine does not filter well through this place."

"But perhaps you could tell me if and how Victor Creed survived his fall?" Scott had seen it happen himself. He had seen it when Logan, finally victorious, had knocked his opponent from the top of the Statue of Liberty. Not something the X-Men would really have liked him to do, but something that was done nonetheless. Couldn't very well change the past, could you?

Now Erik's smile broadened. "Tell me Scott," he said, finally referring to him by name. "Did you bring every member of your team with you that night?"

Scott was silent a few moments as he thought it over. Erik was right. He hadn't taken everyone, had he? Kurt and Hank, out of town as they were, could have been called at a moments notice but he hadn't brought them along. He could have, but he didn't because he didn't want to show all his strength all at once so it stood to reason that . . . "You didn't bring everyone with you."

"I'll leave that for you to decide," Erik replied as the chess game moved forward, then continued on to change the subject. "So tell me, how is Charles doing these days?"

Without commenting on the shift in topic Scott answered honestly. It was the least he could do in return for the information he had gleaned. "He's doing very well, for a man of his age," Scott told him. "That trick of Mystique's aside, I'd say he's never been better." A thinly-veiled strike against the old man, one that slipped before he realized what he had said. He didn't regret saying it but it probably would have been better had it not been done.

Erik did not seem disturbed by it. Instead, he seemed saddened. "I told Mystique to take care of him, what she did I did not expect. However, she was my under my jurisdiction at the time and, as I am responsible for her actions, I am sorry that I hurt my old friend."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Scott asked, trying to hide his amazement. He expected to get back something like 'why are you looking a gift horse in the mouth'.

But that was no what he got. "I could ask the same of you," Erik told him with the slightest hint of a smile. He looked back down at the chessboard that lay between them. The strategy game had progressed much more quickly than those of the mind and Scott noticed how many of his pieces had disappeared from the board. Erik moved one last figure. "That, my young Mr. Summers," he said with a bit of humor in his voice, "Is checkmate. You might want to talk to Charles about improving your technique."

AN: I am loved! Big hug to all my reviewers. *hugs*

Jalla- Thank you! It's good to know he's not completely OOC.

SAR- Glad you like it.

Lamashtar- Well, the first chapter had to be introspective, so you would know where he's coming from. The third chapter, well, I checked it over for grammatical errors and I couldn't find any, but then again I always did fail grammar. Glad you liked Chapter 2, though. And please keep reading, constructive criticism is always a big help.

Annie- Aw, I like your RPing too! And you think I'm creative? Wow. You're one of the few. Thanks for the kudos, and wonderful job on your story too.