AN: My apologies on the delay for the update! I had a vacation, then my beta did, and then she moved and was without internet for a bit. So, at long last, an update! Bear with me, as I'll be traveling again this week, but hopefully I won't go that long without an update again. Thanks for reading!


Chapter 21

Jean smiled as she watched Charles—it was getting easier to think of him as that, now, the longer they spent time together—calmly having his dinner as he spoke with Logan. She wondered if it were completely obvious that she was so…well, infatuated.

She toyed with her spaghetti, not especially hungry, and thought about last night. They'd had a productive conversation about how to handle the media who kept calling and asking for interviews. Jean had caught Kurt on the phone, saying, "Well, yes, we really do appreciate donations of gift certificates to local burger establishments," and had to remind him how much he'd liked detailing the X-Jet. That had apparently worked, and he'd hung up the phone without seeking further free lunches.

She and Charles had discussed a strategy for dealing with further inquiries, and then….things had progressed rather as she'd hoped they might, and the only thing that put a black mark on the whole evening was that he felt somehow he was taking advantage of her, and she couldn't bear for him to think that, because he wasn't. She wanted him very much, and she was thrilled that he wanted her in return.

She did feel mildly guilty about Scott, however. A few days after they'd broken up, she'd gone to him to try and apologize. All he'd said was that he understood she needed her space, and she'd been careful not to peek into his thoughts to see what else he may have been thinking. Afterwards, he'd been perfectly polite—if not a little chilly—to her, which she supposed was to be expected. She hadn't told him about Charles. She wasn't sure anyone needed to know about that just yet.

"Jean, far be it from me to interrupt whatever happy thoughts you're currently having, but would you please pass me the water?"

Jean shook herself out of her reverie and looked to her right, where Magneto was sitting, and had apparently had asked her three times for her to pass him the pitcher of ice water on the center of the table. She noticed it was strange that Rogue was sitting next to him, and didn't appear to be eating much, either.

"Ah, the water, Miss Grey?"

"Oh!" Jean flushed red and reached out to find the pitcher, passing it to Magneto. "I'm sorry. Usually you just levitate things over if you need them."

"And I would have, if that was not considered dreadful table manners."

"Whatever, the pitcher's made out of glass," Rogue muttered, and Jean watched everyone tense slightly at her words, expecting some sort of uncomfortable situation between the two of them, since they never could seem to stop playing off of each other. They both had a temper, and sometimes dinner was a bit…well, loud.

Magneto, however, just shrugged. "Perhaps someone should toss a nickel at the bottom next time," he said simply, and Rogue laughed. Really laughed, too, and that was enough to make Jean give the other girl a considering look.

Rogue stared back almost challengingly. "What? Sometimes he's funny." She picked up her knife and attacked her dinner roll, a slight flush on her face.

"Thank you," Magneto said dryly, exchanging a look with her, and Jean had the strangest idea that—

No. Not possible. Maybe Rogue finally took my advice about not hating him anymore, but that's got to be it. Just because I'm seeing an older man doesn't mean everyone is.

Her gaze strayed back to Charles, who was watching Magneto with narrowed eyes. She could almost feel hostility radiating off of him, though Magneto continued eating and apparently didn't notice.

Is something the matter? she asked Charles, concerned.

Nothing I wish to discuss now, my dear, came his reply, and Jean was suffused with pleasure at the endearment, so much so that she pulled her roll apart and nibbled on it with little enthusiasm. She just wanted dinner to be over.

The door to the dining room opened and Kitty blew in, looking frazzled her hair in her face and her book bag slung over her shoulder. "Oh my gosh, like, I'm sorry I'm so late," she said quickly, collapsing in the empty seat next to Kurt. "Did any of you guys see the news?"

Jean passed her the pasta bowl of spaghetti. "No, why? Did something happen?"

"They'retryintopssmtntregact—"

"Kitty, perhaps you should finish that bite first," Charles said politely, and Kitty swallowed her bite of roll and grinned sheepishly as she dished a healthy portion of pasta on her plate.

"Sorry. I was watching a special about they were trying to pass the Mutant Registration Act," she said, upending half the bottle of parmesan cheese on her pasta and shaking it vigorously. "They used us as an example."

"Of why they should?" This from Magneto.

"Yeah." Kitty looked up at him. "You know, I used to think you were, like, crazy for living on an asteroid. Now it doesn't seem like such a bad idea."

Jean had to hide her laugh with a cough, but she didn't do a very good job. To his credit, Magneto didn't appear bothered. "Yes, well, perhaps that was a foolish idea. Then again," he said, raising his voice slightly and looking over at Charles, "Perhaps it was ahead of its time."

"Maybe without the mutating machine," Scott said under his breath, and Kurt laughed. Magneto glared at him but said nothing.

"Although the pods were sort of fun, like a ride," Kurt offered, his tail sneaking towards the bread basket.

Jean moved the napkin-covered basket smoothly with her telekinesis, away from Kurt's grasp. "If you would just ask, Kurt, someone would probably hand you a roll."

"Anyway, it's gotten kind of crazy. They're having protests and stuff." Kitty's eyes lit up. "Just like the civil rights movement or something. We should go!"

"People died in those protests," Scott reminded Kitty, but he looked thoughtful.

"What, you won't die to keep us from bein' all locked up and branded like cattle?"

Surprised, Jean looked over at Rogue after she spoke. Magneto made an appreciative sound, and Charles was back to glaring again, and suddenly Jean had a really frightening idea.

He's trying to sway her to his side! She wondered if she should tell Charles, but she remembered his telepathic admonition from earlier and kept both her words and her thoughts to herself.

"What would protesting do to stop that?" Kitty asked, shrugging. She filled up her glass with water.

"Nothing, Shadowcat," Magneto said quietly, standing up. "Nothing at all. If you'll excuse me, I believe I'm finished." He nodded to Rogue, which surprised Jean but only confirmed her suspicions, and left carrying his plate.

Rogue watched him go, then looked up at Jean with narrowed eyes. You in my head, Grey?

You know I wouldn't do that without permission. Jean responded, a bit hurt.

"Sorry," Rogue muttered, sitting back in her seat. She toyed with her food, but didn't leave the table. Jean had the distinct feeling that she wanted to, though.

"I still think we should show up at the protests, with a sign, maybe," Kurt said, helping himself to what had to be his six-thousandth roll. "Let the world know the X-Men are not going to support that law."

"I think perhaps we should stop discussing politics at dinner," Charles interjected smoothly. "All of you have classes to think about, and homework. We'll save the political strategizing for another day."

"I just wanted to mention it," Kitty said, sounding a bit embarrassed. "I didn't mean to like, start a fight or anything."

"Don't worry about, Kitty," Scott said, smiling at her. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's good to know what's going on. No one wants to be kept in the dark." He stared down at his plate, and Jean noticed his dinner was mostly untouched, too.

Oh, no. Does he know? We've been so careful--

He doesn't know, Jean.

Surprised, she looked over at Charles, her fork poised with a bite of spaghetti halfway to her mouth. How…how do you know that he doesn't?

Because I checked. Charles was sipping his glass of iced tea and nodding to Amara, who was talking to him about a project for her psychology class.

Is that…should you do that? It felt wrong, somehow, like an invasion of Scott's privacy.

I'm afraid so. Things could become difficult if our…relationship…was made public knowledge at this point in time.

Jean was trapped between being happy he called what they had a relationship, and concerned that he was reading Scott's mind without permission. Still, she supposed he was right—after all, if Scott knew about them, maybe he'd leave the team. That would be disastrous. The kids looked up to him so much, and they needed strong leaders, especially if that Mutant Registration Act were to pass.

Jean shrugged off her concerns and took a few bites more of her dinner, then gratefully helped clear the table. She pretended to be tired in order to escape having to watch some American Idol rip-off with some of the others, and later that night, she crept quietly down the hallway to Charles' room.

Once there, she brought up her concerns about Rogue to him, seated in her usual spot in front of the fireplace with her head on his knees. He played idly with her hair as she spoke.

"That's not exactly what he's doing, though perhaps it's part of it," Charles said slowly, and Jean had her eyes half-closed under the caress of his fingers in her hair. "Though I'm not sure that I should discuss this with you, Jean. It may perhaps be a breech of confidence to do so."

Jean looked up at him. "Rogue barely ate at dinner," she said slowly, her mind racing.

"Neither did you," he murmured, fingers light on her jaw. Her head tipped back further.
"Is that somehow significant?"

"Actually, yes. I didn't eat a lot because I'm—" she blushed, lowering her eyes, unsure she wanted to say this out loud. You know….

The light brush of his fingers ghosted over her lips, and she knew that he understood. "And Rogue, she sat next to Magneto. She never does that." Her body was suddenly flushed and warm, and she wondered if it was something he was doing to her on purpose, or if it was merely a result of his touch. "It wouldn't be the first time that a girl had a crush on an older man," she said, smiling a little. "And they hated each other so much, maybe she decided to stop hating him and start finding him attractive."

"Do you?"

Jean sat up at that, her eyes wide, more than a little surprised he'd asked. "Magneto? Not really. I can see why Rogue would, though. She has the thing for guys who are a little shady. Remember that Cajun henchman of Magneto's that kidnapped her?"

Charles smiled, and she felt his amusement at her casual slang. "I do indeed. I had hoped he may consider joining us, but I've not heard from him since after Apocalypse fell. Nor has Erik, to my knowledge."

"Charles, you…you know what's going on with Magneto. Is Rogue…is she in any kind of danger?" Jean gave him a worried look.

"I do not believe she is, though I can't be certain. My judgment in such cases has become understandably clouded." He tugged her hair lightly.

"So that is what is going on," Jean mused. She smiled. "Does he know? That she has…" she searched for the right word. Crush seemed too juvenile, somehow. "…an interest in him?"

"Oh, he knows," Charles said darkly, then shook his head. "Let's not speak further of this, Jean. They're adults and may make their own decisions, though I heartily disapprove. Though I suppose that's rather hypocritical of me, considering…" he trailed off, his face shadowed. She could feel his guilt again, and it made her sad.

"You never tried to kill me, Charles. You've always been there for me. For all of us. Magneto may be reformed—" her voice was doubtful—"but his past is still the same." She wished he would look at her again, wished he would smile without that terrible sadness on his features, as if he'd committed some crime for which there was no pardon.

"You're a very intelligent young woman. I am, of course, lucky for your affections." He smiled, and Jean felt a slight brush against her body, like fingers sliding up her spine. She shivered, and realized that they were done talking for the evening.

This was fine with her. Rogue would get over whatever infatuation she had with the older mutant—it wasn't like Magneto was interested in her, was it? With a shrug, she let her worries fall away beneath Charles'caresses, thrilling to the way he shared his desire with her and brought them together in a rush of warm, delicious want.

She could worry about things in the morning. They didn't have a lot of time alone together, and she wanted to make the most of it.

ooooooooOOOOoooooooo

Kitty went to her bedroom following the reality show they'd been watching, though she wasn't really ready to go to bed. She had a lot to think about. Namely Lance, who still was being really weird about them sleeping together.

Not to mention, she'd been watching the news at the Brotherhood house, and their reactions to the proposed Mutant Registration Act had been a lot louder than her housemates'. They had shrieked and thrown things, and at one point, Pietro had to grab Wanda and keep her from short-circuiting the television.

"Would it be that bad?" Kitty had asked idly, which had prompted a twenty-minute shout-fest with everyone—even Fred, who Kitty rarely heard speak--lecturing her about the horrible things that would result from the act being passed into law.

Finally, she'd had to shout that she'd only been asking, though she supposed she was a little impressed by their reaction. At least they had an opinion. Apparently that was different than here, where everyone made a joke and then went right back to eating dinner.

Except for Magneto, of course. And Rogue, oddly enough. Though Kitty knew her roommate liked to be irritated about all sorts of things, so that really wasn't a surprise. Her agreeing with Magneto was certainly weird, though, because Kitty thought Rogue might knit Mystique a sweater for Christmas if Magneto said it was a bad idea.

Rogue was standing in their room, staring in her closet with a look of consternation on her face. There was a small mountain of clothes tossed on the bed rather haphazardly, and they all looked the same to Kitty. Mainly because they were all black.

"Hey. What're you doing? You usually don't plan out your next day's wardrobe in advance." Kitty smiled and flopped down on her bed.

"I…I ain't doin' that. I'm…" Rogue sighed. "I sort of have…I have a date. On Friday."

Kitty sat up, immediately intrigued. "You—you do? Really?"

"Well, you ain't gotta sound so shocked," Rogue muttered, critically examining a long, floor-length purple skirt in velvet, trimmed with black lace. She sighed and put it back in the closet.

"I'm not shocked that someone wanted to go out with you," Kitty explained. "I'm just surprised you said yes. Who is it?"

Rogue was suddenly very intent upon staring at her clothing again. "It's…his name is…Erik."

Kitty wracked her brain for someone she knew with that name, but she kept drawing up a blank. "You mean…Eric Samuels? The baseball player?" He seemed like the last guy Rogue would want to date—tall, blonde and athletic, he was more Kitty's type before she fell for Bayville High's resident bad boy—but hey, what did she know?

"Ew, no. He's an idiot. He told me he thinks being a mutant is like havin' a disease." She snickered. "He's just mad 'cause he ain't one. Besides, I ain't dating a human, ever."

Kitty wasn't used to Rogue's sudden mutant-pride, and it made her nervous . "Uh…why not?"

"Because I need someone strong enough so that I don't kill them," Rogue explained slowly, hands on her hips. "Humans are weaker than we are."

"Rogue, that's---" Kitty wasn't sure what to say to that. "Kind of racist, isn't it?"

"No," Rogue said, exasperated. "It's the truth. I've touched y'all and no one dies. I touched that guy in Mississippi and he was in a coma for a week. Just a true fact, Kit. I need to date a mutant that won't keel over dead if he kisses me."

It made sense, but something about her reasoning still left a bad taste in Kitty's mouth. Maybe it was because Kitty really didn't care if someone was a mutant or a human, but then again, maybe she would if she were Rogue. "So, it's a mutant named Eric? Do we know any?"

"Oh, you know him," Rogue sighed, then turned to her. "I need you to promise me you ain't gonna say anything about this. Not that everyone won't know, but I—it's only just the beginning of the week and I ain't real interested in everyone throwin' a fit and botherin' me about it."

"Rogue, do you know how much grief I get for dating Lance?" Kitty laughed. "Go on, tell me." She was almost half-convinced it was Pietro, which may be kind of cool because then they could double-date, but Pietro's name wasn't….

Kitty's eyes widened. She did know a mutant named Erik. It was just that no one ever called him that. "No."

Rogue winced. "You guessed, huh?"

"Are you serious? How in the—Rogue, tell me I'm wrong and you're not going on a date with Magneto."

Rogue sighed. "Yeah, I am."

Kitty bounded up, crossing the room to stand next to her friend. "Wha--how? I thought you hated him!"

"Well, I mean, he's kinda annoying," Rogue said defensively, then threw her hands up. "I don't know, okay? I mean, I do know, but I don't…can we just not talk about it?"

Hurt, Kitty backed away. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, if you don't want to, you don't have to. You're the one that brought it up, though."

"No, Kit, it's not that. It's just…" Rogue bit her lip, then sighed again. "Look, I just don't want to rehash the whole thing 'cause it's…well, a long story. But I told you because I really need some advice on what to wear. All this stuff makes me look like a kid."

"You are one," Kitty muttered, still shocked.

"No, I'm really not." Rogue fixed her with a sharp glance. "I'm eighteen, but that's not the point. I feel…havin' all these people in my head makes me feel a lot older than I am," she said, pulling out a dark black shirt with blood-red lacing. "I just don't seem to dress like it."

Kitty gave a small laugh at that. "Well, we can fix that. You can borrow something of mine. Where are you going on your date? With Magneto. Your date with Magneto." It was still making her head hurt.

"Yes, my date with Magneto. We're going to…dinner. Don't know where. I just don't want to look like his daughter."

"Well, you and Wanda do practically share the same wardrobe," Kitty said dryly, going to her own closet and beginning to look around.

"That's not what I meant," Rogue muttered, and Kitty shrugged and began pulling things out of her closet.

"Yeah, but, you know what? He's a lot older than you, so people will think that, won't they? Don't try to dress, like, a grandma." Kitty giggled. "This is so scandalous! You should wear something low-cut."

"Kitty!" Rogue blushed. "That's not a good idea, remember?"

"If you don't trust him to keep people from touching you, why do you want to go out with him?" Kitty paused, fingering a delicate silk shell between her fingers, wondering if the red would clash with Rogue's hair.

"Um…" Rogue coughed. "Can you just find me some clothes?"

Kitty grinned. "Sure." She began tossing things at Rogue. "Go put these on in the order in which I hand them to you," she instructed. "And no black lipstick, either. Magneto always looks pretty classy. When he's not, you know. Trying to take over the world."

Rogue rolled her eyes, but didn't disagree with her date's aspirations in regards to mutant-kind. Which was good, at least Kitty thought so, because it meant she wasn't pretending Magneto was something he wasn't.

Rogue smiled a little, her expression almost shy. "Hey, Kit? Thanks. I know this is weird, and I'm keepin' things from you, but…thanks."

"You're welcome. Besides, I'm going to torment you later when I tell you all about my plan to seduce Lance while you're having dinner with Magneto." Kitty shook her head. "We live weird lives."

Rogue snorted. "Compared to Apocalypse? This is boring."

Kitty didn't think she could argue with that, so she didn't even try.