Just a little note to say that this might be the last update for a while,
which is sad for me because I love writing this story..
Thanks as usual to reviewers, I really enjoy your feedback. If you'd like to see something nice happen to any characters, just leave a wee suggestion and Magneto will see what he can do.
Read, review and have a luvverly day!
*
The rooftop garden was an exquisite little place where flowers bloomed in the most unlikely setting under the deft fingers of Ororo Munroe. Its glass dome reflected the sun and made the garden forever warm and bright, scented with herbs and blossoms.
"What's this one?" Erik asked, pointing to a potted shrub with spiky lavender flowers.
"That is Lemon Mint," Ororo replied as she tended to her tomatoes. Erik raised an eyebrow.
"Lemon Mint?"
Ororo nodded, chuckling at his sceptical frown. She plucked a soft leaf off the shrub and crushed it between her fingers, offering him her hand. He inhaled the fragrance from the green pulp and then, ever the gentleman, kissed the back of her hand.
"A delectable scent, my dear, green-fingered Ororo."
She held out her face to be kissed and he by no means refrained. He could hardly believe his luck; how could such a beautiful, intelligent and talented woman possibly be his?
"Do you think we ought to tell the boys?" she asked, handing him a trowel. They were planting bulbs for daffodils and tulips in preparation for the upcoming Spring.
Erik fingered a bulb thoughtfully. The boys she spoke of were her nephew and his son. They had patched up their differences recently, but it was possible that news such as this could start another rift. Erik really didn't want to have to extract any more spikes from his son's delicate skin using only tweezers; Pietro always did make such a fuss.
"Pietro is very sensitive," he said, thinking aloud as he heaped compost on top of the bulb.
Ororo clicked her tongue pensively. "Evan can be rather overprotective. He hasn't liked anybody I've been out with as yet... But then, things have changed," she said, her face brightening. "You've changed, the boys have changed and I sometimes wonder if I haven't changed! Everybody is happy now."
Somewhere along the way on his quest for happiness, Erik had discovered that somebody else's joy was your own. If this was so, then there was no reason for Pietro and Evan to be upset by their news. After all, he and Ororo were clearly thrilled with each other. This, they knew, was a serious relationship and they made no effort in concealing or denying it.
"Then we'll tell them tonight," Erik declared with a quick squeeze of her hand. "And just in case, I shall bring my tweezers."
*
The institute was considerably empty that day. The students were all at school and the majority of the instructors were out on a mission. With Ororo now attending her midday book discussion group, Erik settled himself in the kitchen where he rehearsed the conversation they would be having later.
'We don't want you to be alarmed by this news, but.' No, that made it sound ominous. And it was good news, surely?
He tried the more direct approach. He knew that this would be better for Pietro's minute attention span.
'Ororo and I are going out with each other.' Going out? Wasn't that what one did as teenagers? What would sound better- courting? Or was 'courting' too old fashioned for them to understand?
His immensely long train of thought was broken by the rather distracting sound of rustling papers. The source of the noise was Mystique, who was currently glueing various bits and pieces into a large, lilac book.
"They do grow up fast, don't they?" she sighed as she stuck down a picture of a furry, blue baby.
Erik nodded. It seemed like only yesterday when he could seat Pietro on one knee and Wanda on the other. In a rather horribly sentimental frame of mind, he fished out his wallet and began searching through the photographs.
It may seem surprising that, even in his most evil days, the great Magneto had pictures of babies at the back of his wallet. Admittedly, the photographs were ignored for fear of recalling unvillainous emotion but they were there nonetheless. What may seem even more surprising, however, is the fact that Erik was about to embark on a session of swapping baby pictures with the not entirely fearsome Mystique.
The first photograph was of the twins on the day they were born. Being newborns, it was almost impossible to tell them apart for Erik. He was not quite enough of a doting father to think his children beautiful in their first few months of life; indeed, they were merely two very wrinkly, red bundles of dreadful noise and unfortunate bodily fluids.
"Aaaaaaah," squealed Mystique as she caught sight of the picture, making a sound usually reserved for fluffy baby lambs. Erik supposed that you really had to be a woman to find such things visually appealing. He was handed a picture of a baby Rogue in return, who was surprisingly chubby and hairless. Apparently, the poor girl had grown no hair until she was two.
"Wasn't she go-orgeous?" gushed the blue beauty. "Look at that face!"
"Gosh, she looks quite a character," Erik replied blankly, which is what one generally says when handed a picture of an otherwise unattractive child.
He pulled out a picture of a three year old Pietro, falling victim to the My-Child-Is-Cuter-Than-Yours superiority of the parent. There was no denying the surge of fatherly pride he felt as he recalled the way strangers would stop in the street and tell him what a beautiful boy Pietro was. Back then, he looked the very picture of innocence; all bottomless blue eyes and soft, snowy hair.
"How adorable," Mystique remarked, secretly knowing that Kurt was far prettier than that. Any mutant would say so. How could they resist those giant yellow eyes peeking out from a veil of thick lashes, the baby-soft fur with that unmistakeably sweet scent?
Erik took out the last picture with more care, pausing to examine it closely. It was taken one summer on a cliff-top overlooking an impossibly blue sea. A girl of six stood in the middle of the cliff, afraid to go any closer to the edge in case she fell off. Her immaculately cut black hair framed a familiar yet distant face and he noticed that her eyes were not quite focussed on the camera. She was wearing a simple red sundress and held a daisy between the thumb and index finger of her left hand.
"That's Wanda," he said quietly, not feeling quite the same sense of fatherly pride for her. It was hard to place exactly what he felt, so he did not dabble in his emotions too long. He simply made a mental note to carry on striving to come up with an apology for her. He knew eventually that he would come up with something, something that would hopefully not enrage her and leave him short of a few limbs at the very least.
Both Mystique and Erik tired of showing their children off soon after, and he left her with her scissors, glue and memories. As he closed the door, they were united by a final surge of parental smugness. On a count of three, they both informed the empty space around them of the obvious truth:
"Mine were definitely cuter."
*
Evan pulled a long thread out of his red, stripy sock and absent mindedly placed it on Pietro's shoulder, who picked it up and began to tie knots in it.
"What did we do lately?" Pietro asked for what seemed like the thousandth time. They had both been called to the sitting room by their guardians for a 'little talk' and took this to mean that they were either in dire trouble or about to receive a lecture.
"Dunno, man. Maybe they think we're on drugs."
Pietro shifted in his seat and began tapping his fingers on his knees until they became a blur. "Drugs? We're not on drugs. Evan, why would they think we're on drugs?"
Evan sighed. "Well. Sex?"
"No thank you, Evan," quipped Pietro. "Seriously though, why would they be giving us The Talk at this age, here, together?"
"Dunno." Evan pulled another thread out of his sock, this time making a large hole in the toe.
Pietro's face suddenly became the very picture of panic as an idea struck him. "You don't think that they think we're..?"
Evan understood, and a comically repulsed expression crossed his face. "No way! Why would they think that? It's-"
On seeing the doorknob rattle and the ominous figures of Erik and Ororo enter the room, Evan leapt out of his seat and held his hands up defensively.
"I'm straight!" he squawked at his aunt, who replied with a raised eyebrow and a slow nod of the head.
"Yeah, we're just friends," Pietro told Erik, who was biting back laughter. "Not friends-who-do-stuff friends but just friends."
"Ah, good for you?" Ororo grinned and placed a fond hand over her nephew's. "That's not the reason we wanted to talk to the two of you."
The blood drained from Evan's face before he quickly adjusted himself. "Oh. Oh, we knew that. Yeah.. Heh."
"What's this about then?" Pietro asked, beginning to tire of the whole thing. "Are we in trouble or not?"
"I never thought I'd say this," Ororo said with a particularly meaningful nod to Evan. "But no, you are not in trouble. Me and Erik simply had some news we thought you would like to hear."
Erik smiled at his son, briefly remembering the photograph. "Ororo and I are, as you say, dating. Now," he began cautiously, watching the boys very closely for any reaction, "I know it's a rather significant age difference- I won't tell you how many years- but I'm sure you'll both agree we're quite well-suited."
"Now, you mustn't feel rejected," Ororo said calmly. "You are family are nothing will ever change that."
She continued to speak, but Erik's mind was wandering. Fond of her as he was, Erik couldn't help but feel that Ororo had taken her speech right out of The Good Parenting Guide. He half expected her to make them all join hands and engage in a little Circle Time.
"Don't you agree, Erik?" she asked, catching him off his guard. He blinked in surprise and nodded in what he hoped was a sincere manner.
Evan stared at them thoughtfully. His Auntie O and. and Magneto? Did they really have that much in common apart from white hair and a name which sounded like a breakfast cereal? 'Actually,' he thought to himself, starting to veer off the point, 'so does Pietro!'
"What are you thinking about, Evan?" Ororo asked her nephew, who was frowning in deep thought.
"Just how your names all end in O and you all have white hair," he shrugged. "I kinda feel left out, you know?"
If Erik had been expecting any type of reaction at all, it hadn't been that. Did Evan even hear the news? Surely the fact that he was dating Auntie O was more of a revelation than a similarity in names and hair colour?
"I don't mind you dating," Evan added and Erik breathed a sigh of relief. "He may be an old guy but he sure is cool."
Satisfied with the feisty spike-shooter's reaction, they turned to Pietro who was staring at Ororo and his father incredulously.
"Pietro?"
"I can't believe this," Pietro said softly, shaking his head in disbelief. He dropped his head for a few seconds, then brought it back up with a devilish grin on his face. "You go, Dad- get in there!"
Erik promptly burst out laughing. It had all been fine after all. He could now go back and put the tweezers away- there was not a spike in sight. Or had he spoken too soon?
"You think my aunt's hot, man?" Evan asked, glaring daggers at Pietro. Ororo gave Erik a nervous look and sighing, his hand closed over the tweezers. Just in case.
"Well- who wouldn't?" Pietro gave an infectious smirk. Evan tried to cross his arms and sulk, but the smirk was just too catchy. Besides, he was fond of the speed demon and his benevolent father. As they laughed, he found himself joining in and for once, he felt like he had a complete family.
And almost as if they were the stick figures stepping out of the frames of The Good Parenting Guide, they came together in a spontaneous, lovely, emotionally-rewarding group hug.
Thanks as usual to reviewers, I really enjoy your feedback. If you'd like to see something nice happen to any characters, just leave a wee suggestion and Magneto will see what he can do.
Read, review and have a luvverly day!
*
The rooftop garden was an exquisite little place where flowers bloomed in the most unlikely setting under the deft fingers of Ororo Munroe. Its glass dome reflected the sun and made the garden forever warm and bright, scented with herbs and blossoms.
"What's this one?" Erik asked, pointing to a potted shrub with spiky lavender flowers.
"That is Lemon Mint," Ororo replied as she tended to her tomatoes. Erik raised an eyebrow.
"Lemon Mint?"
Ororo nodded, chuckling at his sceptical frown. She plucked a soft leaf off the shrub and crushed it between her fingers, offering him her hand. He inhaled the fragrance from the green pulp and then, ever the gentleman, kissed the back of her hand.
"A delectable scent, my dear, green-fingered Ororo."
She held out her face to be kissed and he by no means refrained. He could hardly believe his luck; how could such a beautiful, intelligent and talented woman possibly be his?
"Do you think we ought to tell the boys?" she asked, handing him a trowel. They were planting bulbs for daffodils and tulips in preparation for the upcoming Spring.
Erik fingered a bulb thoughtfully. The boys she spoke of were her nephew and his son. They had patched up their differences recently, but it was possible that news such as this could start another rift. Erik really didn't want to have to extract any more spikes from his son's delicate skin using only tweezers; Pietro always did make such a fuss.
"Pietro is very sensitive," he said, thinking aloud as he heaped compost on top of the bulb.
Ororo clicked her tongue pensively. "Evan can be rather overprotective. He hasn't liked anybody I've been out with as yet... But then, things have changed," she said, her face brightening. "You've changed, the boys have changed and I sometimes wonder if I haven't changed! Everybody is happy now."
Somewhere along the way on his quest for happiness, Erik had discovered that somebody else's joy was your own. If this was so, then there was no reason for Pietro and Evan to be upset by their news. After all, he and Ororo were clearly thrilled with each other. This, they knew, was a serious relationship and they made no effort in concealing or denying it.
"Then we'll tell them tonight," Erik declared with a quick squeeze of her hand. "And just in case, I shall bring my tweezers."
*
The institute was considerably empty that day. The students were all at school and the majority of the instructors were out on a mission. With Ororo now attending her midday book discussion group, Erik settled himself in the kitchen where he rehearsed the conversation they would be having later.
'We don't want you to be alarmed by this news, but.' No, that made it sound ominous. And it was good news, surely?
He tried the more direct approach. He knew that this would be better for Pietro's minute attention span.
'Ororo and I are going out with each other.' Going out? Wasn't that what one did as teenagers? What would sound better- courting? Or was 'courting' too old fashioned for them to understand?
His immensely long train of thought was broken by the rather distracting sound of rustling papers. The source of the noise was Mystique, who was currently glueing various bits and pieces into a large, lilac book.
"They do grow up fast, don't they?" she sighed as she stuck down a picture of a furry, blue baby.
Erik nodded. It seemed like only yesterday when he could seat Pietro on one knee and Wanda on the other. In a rather horribly sentimental frame of mind, he fished out his wallet and began searching through the photographs.
It may seem surprising that, even in his most evil days, the great Magneto had pictures of babies at the back of his wallet. Admittedly, the photographs were ignored for fear of recalling unvillainous emotion but they were there nonetheless. What may seem even more surprising, however, is the fact that Erik was about to embark on a session of swapping baby pictures with the not entirely fearsome Mystique.
The first photograph was of the twins on the day they were born. Being newborns, it was almost impossible to tell them apart for Erik. He was not quite enough of a doting father to think his children beautiful in their first few months of life; indeed, they were merely two very wrinkly, red bundles of dreadful noise and unfortunate bodily fluids.
"Aaaaaaah," squealed Mystique as she caught sight of the picture, making a sound usually reserved for fluffy baby lambs. Erik supposed that you really had to be a woman to find such things visually appealing. He was handed a picture of a baby Rogue in return, who was surprisingly chubby and hairless. Apparently, the poor girl had grown no hair until she was two.
"Wasn't she go-orgeous?" gushed the blue beauty. "Look at that face!"
"Gosh, she looks quite a character," Erik replied blankly, which is what one generally says when handed a picture of an otherwise unattractive child.
He pulled out a picture of a three year old Pietro, falling victim to the My-Child-Is-Cuter-Than-Yours superiority of the parent. There was no denying the surge of fatherly pride he felt as he recalled the way strangers would stop in the street and tell him what a beautiful boy Pietro was. Back then, he looked the very picture of innocence; all bottomless blue eyes and soft, snowy hair.
"How adorable," Mystique remarked, secretly knowing that Kurt was far prettier than that. Any mutant would say so. How could they resist those giant yellow eyes peeking out from a veil of thick lashes, the baby-soft fur with that unmistakeably sweet scent?
Erik took out the last picture with more care, pausing to examine it closely. It was taken one summer on a cliff-top overlooking an impossibly blue sea. A girl of six stood in the middle of the cliff, afraid to go any closer to the edge in case she fell off. Her immaculately cut black hair framed a familiar yet distant face and he noticed that her eyes were not quite focussed on the camera. She was wearing a simple red sundress and held a daisy between the thumb and index finger of her left hand.
"That's Wanda," he said quietly, not feeling quite the same sense of fatherly pride for her. It was hard to place exactly what he felt, so he did not dabble in his emotions too long. He simply made a mental note to carry on striving to come up with an apology for her. He knew eventually that he would come up with something, something that would hopefully not enrage her and leave him short of a few limbs at the very least.
Both Mystique and Erik tired of showing their children off soon after, and he left her with her scissors, glue and memories. As he closed the door, they were united by a final surge of parental smugness. On a count of three, they both informed the empty space around them of the obvious truth:
"Mine were definitely cuter."
*
Evan pulled a long thread out of his red, stripy sock and absent mindedly placed it on Pietro's shoulder, who picked it up and began to tie knots in it.
"What did we do lately?" Pietro asked for what seemed like the thousandth time. They had both been called to the sitting room by their guardians for a 'little talk' and took this to mean that they were either in dire trouble or about to receive a lecture.
"Dunno, man. Maybe they think we're on drugs."
Pietro shifted in his seat and began tapping his fingers on his knees until they became a blur. "Drugs? We're not on drugs. Evan, why would they think we're on drugs?"
Evan sighed. "Well. Sex?"
"No thank you, Evan," quipped Pietro. "Seriously though, why would they be giving us The Talk at this age, here, together?"
"Dunno." Evan pulled another thread out of his sock, this time making a large hole in the toe.
Pietro's face suddenly became the very picture of panic as an idea struck him. "You don't think that they think we're..?"
Evan understood, and a comically repulsed expression crossed his face. "No way! Why would they think that? It's-"
On seeing the doorknob rattle and the ominous figures of Erik and Ororo enter the room, Evan leapt out of his seat and held his hands up defensively.
"I'm straight!" he squawked at his aunt, who replied with a raised eyebrow and a slow nod of the head.
"Yeah, we're just friends," Pietro told Erik, who was biting back laughter. "Not friends-who-do-stuff friends but just friends."
"Ah, good for you?" Ororo grinned and placed a fond hand over her nephew's. "That's not the reason we wanted to talk to the two of you."
The blood drained from Evan's face before he quickly adjusted himself. "Oh. Oh, we knew that. Yeah.. Heh."
"What's this about then?" Pietro asked, beginning to tire of the whole thing. "Are we in trouble or not?"
"I never thought I'd say this," Ororo said with a particularly meaningful nod to Evan. "But no, you are not in trouble. Me and Erik simply had some news we thought you would like to hear."
Erik smiled at his son, briefly remembering the photograph. "Ororo and I are, as you say, dating. Now," he began cautiously, watching the boys very closely for any reaction, "I know it's a rather significant age difference- I won't tell you how many years- but I'm sure you'll both agree we're quite well-suited."
"Now, you mustn't feel rejected," Ororo said calmly. "You are family are nothing will ever change that."
She continued to speak, but Erik's mind was wandering. Fond of her as he was, Erik couldn't help but feel that Ororo had taken her speech right out of The Good Parenting Guide. He half expected her to make them all join hands and engage in a little Circle Time.
"Don't you agree, Erik?" she asked, catching him off his guard. He blinked in surprise and nodded in what he hoped was a sincere manner.
Evan stared at them thoughtfully. His Auntie O and. and Magneto? Did they really have that much in common apart from white hair and a name which sounded like a breakfast cereal? 'Actually,' he thought to himself, starting to veer off the point, 'so does Pietro!'
"What are you thinking about, Evan?" Ororo asked her nephew, who was frowning in deep thought.
"Just how your names all end in O and you all have white hair," he shrugged. "I kinda feel left out, you know?"
If Erik had been expecting any type of reaction at all, it hadn't been that. Did Evan even hear the news? Surely the fact that he was dating Auntie O was more of a revelation than a similarity in names and hair colour?
"I don't mind you dating," Evan added and Erik breathed a sigh of relief. "He may be an old guy but he sure is cool."
Satisfied with the feisty spike-shooter's reaction, they turned to Pietro who was staring at Ororo and his father incredulously.
"Pietro?"
"I can't believe this," Pietro said softly, shaking his head in disbelief. He dropped his head for a few seconds, then brought it back up with a devilish grin on his face. "You go, Dad- get in there!"
Erik promptly burst out laughing. It had all been fine after all. He could now go back and put the tweezers away- there was not a spike in sight. Or had he spoken too soon?
"You think my aunt's hot, man?" Evan asked, glaring daggers at Pietro. Ororo gave Erik a nervous look and sighing, his hand closed over the tweezers. Just in case.
"Well- who wouldn't?" Pietro gave an infectious smirk. Evan tried to cross his arms and sulk, but the smirk was just too catchy. Besides, he was fond of the speed demon and his benevolent father. As they laughed, he found himself joining in and for once, he felt like he had a complete family.
And almost as if they were the stick figures stepping out of the frames of The Good Parenting Guide, they came together in a spontaneous, lovely, emotionally-rewarding group hug.