Charles wheeled his chair down to the end of the long gravel drive; it was a bit of a chore pushing his chair over the uneven stones. Though he'd gained a lot more stamina over the last nine months, it still took a lot more physical effort to get around then it used to. The car sitting outside the gates on the opposite side of the road had a man inside leaning against the seat in a bored manner. Closing his eyes, Charles put a hand to his temple — a gesture which always helped him concentrate — with a bit of discomfort at doing so, he took a quick look inside the man's mind.
Minds were like steamer trunks, layers and layers of things that made up the interior life of someone. On the first layer were some basics about who you were and your immediate thoughts. The man was bored, he was watching the house, he was monitoring the house to see if he could track down Charles Xavier.
Frowning a little Charles went a little deeper, why was this man looking for him? Searching, sifting into another layer, he found the man was a P.I. The man didn't know why he was looking for Xavier but had been hired to locate Charles, and once a location was confirmed he was to report that back to his unidentified employer by phone.
Charles frowned deeper, he'd been worried about Stryker trying to find the Mutants after Cuba. Charles had learned that it was Stryker who'd insisted on the missile strike against the Mutants on the Cuban beach, the strike that had made Erik lose his mind and had created the situation that put Charles in his wheelchair. Stryker was a small, petty man who only saw the world in two categories: enemies, and weapons he could use against them. Weapons was how Stryker saw mutants and if they were not under his personal control, then they needed to be prevented from falling into enemy hands. Still as Charles sifted through the P.I.'s mind he didn't find a connection to Styker, or any evidence this man had ever even met the man. Who then had sent the P.I.? Charles wondered if it had anything to do with his step-father's business dealings. Rivel businessmen hoping to shave a cent or two off of a price tag had sent P.I.'s to watch the family before. He hoped this man was simply an aspect of his step-fathers business life spilling over and nothing more. Reaching into the P.I.'s mind Charles nudged him to lose interest in the house and move on to another property. Doing so formed an uneasy knot inside Charles's chest, he hated messing with other people's minds. Skimming a favorite drink off the top layer was a little different than controlling someone else's perception of the world. Charles felt another twinge of guilt when he thought about Moira. Both this and when he'd whipped her memories after Cuba had been done to protect the Mutants in his care, it was necessary even if it was also something Charles didn't like.
The man in the car sat up a little straighter and shifted his car out of park. He drove away a moment later. Sighing a little, Charles wheeled himself back up the long drive to the newly installed ramp that allowed him access to his own home. He hated the damn thing, and his chair at times, he mostly hated that he found himself so limited by the world. Charles had never fully appreciated before how all the infrastructure was made for the able bodied.
Entering his office, Charles went over to his desk and sorted papers for his school. They still only had two students —Sean and Alex— and both of them were only legally students so they would not be drafted. It was a small protection, but not really what Charles hoped the school would become. The problem was finding Mutants. They were still a small number of the population, even if a growing one. And without Cerebro, it was difficult to locate those who needed a safe place.
Hank's head came around the door, his presence invading the interior of the office. "Well, was it another solicitor?"
"No, someone watching the house to try to locate me, I took care of it." Charles looked up from his papers.
"Why?" Hank asked.
"I don't know, I'm going to make a call to my step-father and see if it has anything to do with him." Charles wasn't too concerned, yet, but he did intend to keep a close eye on the situation.
"Alright." Hank vanished around the door and Charles was, as he frequently found himself since Cuba, alone, again.
Trask sat at his desk in the Detroit office of Trask Industries. Standing in the basement, Trask swirled a beaker of blood as he created new bottles of serum. He was still amazed by his own cleverness at being able to derive a mind control serum from Miss Frost's blood. The effects didn't last too long, but it was promising. He was also relieved now that they'd located her again. The small supply of blood taken from her while she was being held at the C.I.A. was almost gone. Trask smiled a little to himself, he could just imagine what he'd be able to do when he found the rest of the freaks the C.I.A. had tried deploying against the Russians. They were a resource, valuable, and no one even knew about them yet. Trask smiled wider as he whirled the beaker. In less than a year he'd gone from barely knowing about them to actually being able to derive a fascinating weapon from the blood of telepaths. Trask wondered what he might do with a telepath like Xavier? Frost's abilities were somewhat limited as compared to what Xavier had shown. According to the files, while in Russia Xavier has been able to alter the perception of the Russian guards searching a truck. Trask felt a little shiver of anticipation go through him, he had men searching for Xavier relentlessly. It might be difficult to bring him in, Xavier had money and position, but Trask would find a way. Miss Frost had shown him the potential these 'Mutants' could have. In her blood he had found not only a way to control others' minds — by mixing a serum derived from a telepath's blood and a liquid crystalline structure that picked up a specific radio frequency. — But Trask had also found the way to prevent a telepath from entering his own mind. They were really an amazing resource, a rare one, but amazing. Out of the ten freaks who'd been there at Cuba, Trask had been able to track down four so far. A little glow of self satisfaction warmed Trask's chest, his new device that measured atoms was able to pick up the slight differences in Mutant genes just through proximity. With such a device he hoped to find the rest of the ten Mutants and who knew how many more after that.
The door to the lab opened and his fellow lab worker and assistant came in, "Mr. Trask, will you be wanting me for tonight's meeting?"
"No, go home to your family, I think I'll go alone. With any luck they'll have found Lehnsherr and we'll pick him up soon." Trask poured the beaker's contents into a new container and placed it over the low heat.
"What is so important about him? I thought the telepaths were more important?"
"They are in the short run, we need them to control the others. But, Lehnsherr, well in a way you could say he was my first. I learned about Mutants, as they call themselves, back in 52. I was working as a contractor for the U.S. army, dealing with boxes of files they'd seized from the Nazi's. That's where I found him —214782, Erik Lehnsherr— buried among all the other files. A boy who can control metal, literally a living weapon, it's what first put me onto looking for them. Now he's somewhere in the Detroit area. I don't know what he looks like, but I'll know him by his abilities when I do meet him." Trask finished up his work.
"Still no news from Becks on that one then?" the tech asked.
"No, but I'm hoping tonight will bring some news." He was also hoping to hear soon from the other avenues of inquiry he'd opened up into other possible Mutants.
"I can't believe this, Moira, the C.I.A., and we're helping them again, it's so weird," Raven said as Erik and she walked down the dark street heading to the bar Moira had said to meet at.
"It might be the only way to find out who is after Mutants, now," Erik said.
"You think she's still mad about what happened in Cuba?" Raven asked in a low voice.
"I don't know, she… did not seem to remember everything from that day." Erik frowned a little. He would like to say he didn't remember everything from that day after killing Shaw. But it was all burned into his brain, he remembered feeling the guns move onto him, target him. He knew it was because he was different, No one had said as much but they didn't have to. It was the same feeling he had as a boy when the guards in the towers used to follow you with their rifles, just waiting to shoot, just for fun, maybe you, or maybe someone else, you never knew. Erik remembered the feeling of having power to strike back at those who would obliterate him and others like him. He remembered the fear, the words of the Nazi from Argentina ringing through his mind. "They're just following orders-" No that had been Charles, at that moment in Cuba Erik had not heard Charles, he'd heard the practiced mantra of the guilty insisting their willingness to slaughter was a bureaucratic problem, not a personal failing. It was obvious now that was not what Charles had meant by his words that day.
Charles, he remembered clearly, even the adrenaline could not take that away, Charles screaming, falling because Erik had deflected the bullet into him. The utter dread, the emptiness, Charles being hurt by him and of course even then he had left Charles. When it had all started Erik had hoped he would not have to leave. That the good things he had found, other Mutants, friends, Charles, would stay in his life. Inevitably, it had all gone into flames. The things he loved always did.
"Hey, you alright?" Raven asked, giving Erik's arm she was holding onto a little squeeze. Erik pulled his mind back from Cuba, it was no good now thinking about all of that. He had lost it all, no good looking back and wishing to have it again.
"We are here." Erik glanced at the sign above the bar. It was small, and kind of on the dingy side of things inside. A pool table in the back, a cigarette machine on the wall by the door, several round tables with chairs and a long old wood bar with stools.
"What do you want?" Erik asked Raven as he took out his wallet.
"Um… rum and coke," Raven said, sitting. Erik went to order her new usual drink. Going to the bar Erik ordered them drinks and glanced around the room. There was a man making his racing ticket for the dogs in the back by the pool table. Another man with fluffy mutton-chops at the phone making a call.
"Here." Erik came back to the table and handed Raven her drink. Taking a seat his eyes kept finding the man making the phone call. The man was wearing a green army tunic with an array of different insignia. Erik felt like he had seen the man before somewhere but could not place him. It was the 45th infantry division badge on the tunic that caught Erik's attention. That badge he remembered. A red diamond with a gold eagle, it immediately took him back to the last days of the war when he had been told it was all over and something else was beginning. It had been more than fifteen years since Erik had thought about the 45th Infantry.
"Erik?" Raven raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Erik glanced at her.
"Why are you looking at that guy?" Raven asked.
"No reason." Erik turned in his seat to see if Moira was there yet. He had just glanced at the door when it opened and Moira and Mr. Black came in.
"This is all, I was hoping for more?" Moira said as she took a seat.
"Hi, Moira … um… nice seeing you." Raven awkwardly shifted in her seat, clearly remembering the last time they'd seen each other.
"Hi Raven," Moira said, distracted. "Okay, here's what we have." Moira put a file on the table and opening it showed them papers with lists of other file names on them. "About five months ago I got reassigned to the X-File division, basically I investigate the supernatural and wired. Most of it is nothing, but I think I might have been turning up Mutants on occasion. Do you remember Stryker?" Moira asked.
"Yes," Erik nodded, the man had seen Mutants as the next big arms race and was very angry about Erik's 'no suits' policy.
"About two months ago, a weapons development contractor by the name of Trask, a friend of Stryker's, showed up demanding access to my files and was given permission." Moira tapped her file sitting on the table.
"The man I was following here in Detroit, Becks, works for Trask and keeps showing up all the places I think I've encountered Mutants," Moira said.
"We've suspected Trask of dealing with the Russian's under the table. As well, s we started following his man, Becks. I wasn't sure it had anything to do with Mutants until you showed up." Mr. Black didn't seem thrilled about seeing Erik and Raven again.
"Trask's office is not far from this bar and he has a meeting scheduled for tonight with Becks." Moira looked between Erik and Raven. "We need to know what he's up to. I've called all the red flags I can on him, no one is listening. If we don't look into this, if Trask is abducting citizens, then no one is going to stop him unless we do."
"How long do we have until the meeting?" Erik asked.
"About an hour." Mr. Black checked his watch.
"Okay, so what's our plan?" Raven asked, looking from Moira to Erik.
"Trask is bound to keep records of whatever he is up to in his office, yes?" Erik asked.
"Yes." Moira nodded.
"But we have to stay within reasonable limits on this one," Mr. Black tried edging in.
"Meaning, a random break in by non affiliated individuals is out?" Erik asked, turning to look at Mr. Black.
"Legally, yes," Moira said. "But, as he's being investigated for communist activity, if a citizen was worried and-" Moira's tone was clear she was going to pursue this by any means she had.
"He's not a citizen," Mr. Black cut Moira off "are you?". He was clearly a little nervous about breaking rules and maybe getting put in a worse position than a broom closet in the X-Files department.
"We can lure Trask and his people away at this meeting, while he's out, Raven can go into the building pretending to be Trask and look around his office." Moira suggested.
"It could work, only if Raven should get into any trouble," Erik trailed off.
"Mr. Black can be right outside, he's licensed with a firearm," Moira assured.
"I am, but-" Mr. Black fussed looking between Erik and Moira and back again then he seemed to deflate a little and sighed adding "oh, screw it, as long as we don't get caught."
"Raven, does this sound all right to you?" Erik turned to her.
"Yes, I don't want you doing anything you're uncomfortable with." Moira turned to the blonde woman as well.
"I can do it." Raven nodded.
"Okay, let's go." Moira put her files back into her bag.
An hour later, Erik was sitting in the driver's seat of the stolen car that had belonged to Mr. Becks. Erik was wearing the blue hat Moira had taken from the scene of the accident. Moira was laying across the back bench seat so as not to be seen. The car was idling in the parking lot of Trask Industries where the meeting with Trask was to take place.
Around the corner, Raven and Mr. Black were waiting; Raven had a microfilm camera to make copies of anything she found in the office. She also had in her pocket a phone bug to add to Trask's private office phone so they could listen in on his calls.
When Trask came out to the parking lot, Erik let him get close enough to see the hat but not close enough to see who was wearing the hat before he stuck an arm out of the window and gestured for Trask to come closer and then pulled out of the parking lot.
"Is he following us, over?" Moira asked from the back set into her brick like radio.
"He's confused, yes, he's getting into a car and following. Over," Mr. Black whispered back.
"Okay, you'll have maybe ten to fifteen minutes. Out," Moira clicked the radio off. Erik watched in the rear view mirror for Trask's car and drove around for a bit, always making sure that Trask could keep track of him.
"Is he still following?" Moira asked.
"Yes, but he has got to be getting bored," Erik said. "He is signaling to get into the U-turn lane."
"Do something interesting with the car." Moira said, grabbing onto the seat. Erik suddenly flashed his lights and took a hard right, cutting Trask off. Slamming his foot on the gas pedal Erik sped away down a series of streets before turning down a side street.
Erik quickly parked the car, while Moira jumped out of the back and switched the plates to the ones from the C.I.A. van. Erik ditched the blue, exchanging it for a dark brown of similar look. He heard her clicked the radio button warning Mr. Black Trask might be on his way back as she got into the passenger's seat up front next to him.
"Okay, let's see if he follows us." Moira smoothed down her hair from the flurry of activity. A few minutes later Trask's car pulled up behind them and the small man got out of the car. With every step Trask took towards Erik's car he became aware and heard- no felt a ticking. Somewhere in the back of his mind Erik realized the man had a pacemaker.
Trask made his way over to the driver side window and tapped on it. Taking hold of the window crank Erik rolled down the driver's side window about half way. "Can I help you?" he asked. Trask frowned, clearly he had been expecting to see his employee.
"Um… no, sorry, just wanted to say I think you have a tail light out," said Trask, his eyes darting to Moira. He was clearly confused as to why there were two passengers in this car when there had only been one in the car he'd been following. Giving them one more odd look he went back to his own car. Erik could see in the mirror Trask check the license plate on the back of their car again before getting into his sedan and driving away.
"That worked as well as I could have expected," Moira said.
They drove back to the bar where they had met earlier and waited for Mr. Black and Raven.
"Well, I'd say this is just like old times. But… I can't imagine they were like this." Moira sipped her drink as they sat at a table waiting for the others.
"No." Erik touched his fingers to his beer then caught Moira's eye. "You don't remember anything about Cuba at all, why?"
"I don't know, I suppose" Moira paused a moment thinking, "maybe Shaw's telepath did something to me, maybe it was Charles. But I don't know why he would" she shrugged.
Erik could not imagine why Charles would either, but then again, Erik had left the beach right away. Maybe there had been something after the beach that had made it necessary to wipe what had happened from Moira's mind.
"About what happened in Cuba, I'm sorry," Erik said. He realized now he had blamed Moira for an accident that had really been his fault.
"What happened, why are you sorry?" Moira asked, looking confused.
"It's not important now, let us say cooler heads and better angels did not prevail that day and there were words and actions taken and said that I am sorry for." Erik did not want to get into the specifics with Moira right now.
"All right, but after this whole Trask thing is over, you or Raven are going to tell me what happened in that missing week. So, no disappearing on me," Moira said.
The door opened before any more conversation could be had and Raven and Mr. Black came in. "Did you get in?" Moira asked.
"Yes," Raven put the microfilm camera on the table. "I found a file called FREAKS."
"Let's take this back to a more secure location and have a look." Moira took the camera, put it in her bag and the four of them exited the bar.
They adjourned to the motel rooms Moira and Mr. Black were staying at. If Emma had been taken by Trask, Erik and Raven's apartment was no longer safe. After quickly developing the film in the bathroom the four of them looked at images projected on the wall cast by the small portable projector from the van. Most of it was nothing Erik or Raven understood, Moira and Mr. Black were having an easier time of it.
"So what do we have?" Raven asked as Moira finished looking through the last picture.
"Well there are a lot of invoices for mechanical parts, I think it has something to do with the government contract that Trask has for weapons development. But then there are these." Moira went to the logbook a few frames back. There were ten items, all code-named.
"What is it?" Erik asked leaning closer, there were locations and times, dates, and figures that he was sure were payments with the code-names below.
"I don't know." Moira frowned as she studied the logbook image.
"Look here," Mr Black pointed to the bottom-most numbers. "I've seen logs like this before, these are usually meetings, drops for goods and so on with assets. The next one is June 25th, Albany, New York."
"A meeting going down. Mr. Black, call the C.I.A. and the FBI again , and see if you can get anyone to listen to you. I'm going to book us tickets to Albany," Moira said. Mr. Black nodded, picking up the phone.
It was a noticeably short time before Mr. Black was done with his calls. "Anything?" Moira asked as he hung up the phone.
"Um. They told me to stop calling."
"Let's go to the van and see what we can pick up on his phone calls, maybe we can find something more useful. We have a few days until this meeting. Raven, did you install the wire tap?" Moira asked.
"Yes," Raven nodded.
"What do you think Trask is doing?" Erik asked.
"I honestly can't say, it would seem that he's kidnapping people, and his associates are in bed with the Soviets." Moira shrugged. "Whatever he's up to it's not good."
Erik sat on one of the two beds looking at the logbook still projected on the wall, how had he gotten himself mixed up in all this again? Last time he'd understood, he'd done it to find Shaw, to help other Mutants, to help Charles. He'd seen a life beyond the next day for the first time in a long time in those few days nine months ago. Erik had been feeling very directionless since killing Shaw.
There was part of him that knew helping Moira was not the answer to that directionless feeling, but Erik also felt a very powerful desire to protect other Mutants from people like Shaw, like this Trask, who were always on the hunt for those weaker than themselves.
Logan sat on the bus out of Detroit heading for New York and his new temporary apartment. His green duffle bag sat between his legs as he jostled from side to side from the ill kept roads. The bus was full of people, the two making the most noise where a woman with a baby up front kept softly cooing her child, and in the seat across the aisle a middle aged man was bothering an elderly one about some matter. Logan ignored them all, he was sick of people. Over the many decades he'd been alive Logan had seen the worst of humanity and had come to the conclusion that badness and evil is what made up the majority of society. There was very little good in the world, hell knew Logan himself had never done anything good on earth. Fighting wars, killing for money, he was an animal, a weapon and he knew it. Logan had shuckked off society and preferred, when not working in a war, to find isolating and be away from the rot that was other people. The man across the aisle was becoming more belligerent of the old man. Logan turned in his seat and snapped "Bub, sit down and shut up, it's a long bus ride. I don't want to hear you yapping the whole way." The man turned to Logan clearly to tell him to piss off, but recoiled slightly as Logan growled at him. Shifting a little more comfortably in his seat Logan looked out the window and watched the city moving by as the bus headed out into the darkness.
1962 - C.I.A. FACILITY - UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
"How do I look?" Charles asked Raven as he fussed with his clothes a little.
"I don't know, fine I guess," Raven said disinterestedly as she flipped through a magazine looking for new hair to try, not even looking up to Charles's question.
"I mean, do you think this looks good on me?" Charles asked. He'd chosen a lilac shirt because pastels looked nice on him. He had paired it with a dark blue cardigan and gray slacks.
"I don't know, I can't really see you that way, you're my brother." Raven sighed as her reading was interrupted. "Please say you're not going to go bother Moira, she's not interested." she eyed him suspiciously with another sigh.
"Never mind," Charles said "I'm just going out for a walk, that's all." Charles left his room where Raven had been going through the selection of magazines provided by the C.I.A.
Charles had been intending to go ask Erik for the rest of that chess game. For some reason, a reason he didn't want to acknowledge at the moment, Charles found himself caring what he looked like, what he wore around Erik, a man he'd only met a day ago. Charles hesitated in the hall, maybe he should go bother Moira. After all she was an attractive woman and that was what young men were supposed to do. Or did spending the evening playing chess with Erik sound so much more delightful. Charles smiled a little thinking about Erik, he was very pleased that Erik had chosen to stay, he'd been half afraid Erik would leave and that would be the end of it.
Charles paused in the hall outside Erik's room, there was a half finished game of chess they'd started yesterday still unresolved in there. Charles knocked. A minute later Erik opened the door, in a black turtleneck and brown slacks.
"Fancy a game?" Charles asked.
"I think so." Erik smiled a little at him and stepped back to allow Charles in. "Still feel normal after the brain machine?" Erik asked as he moved over to sit on the end of the bed.
"So far," Charles said. "I wish you wouldn't bring it up like that. You keep making it sound like my brains are going to melt out of my ears in a minute." Charles carefully picked up the half finished game and came over to set it down between them on the bed where Erik was sitting on the end.
"You never know. It is an experimental machine." Erik's eyes held a teasing light in them that made Charles's heart seem to flutter.
"I'm sure Hank knows what he's doing." Charles said, trying not to sound too cross. It had been a little nerve wracking to use the machine for the first time and Erik had only made it worse by seeming to sense this nervousness and plucking at it. "Who's move was it?" Charles asked, looking at the board.
"I think yours." Erik said.
Charles made the first move, and Erik countered, each one tracking what was happening on the board and also catching each other's eyes trying to figure out what the other one was thinking. Every time Charles's eye caught Erik's he felt that sudden fluttering inside his chest again. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, only one he had been trying to ignore since his early college days. Charles caught Erik's eye again and felt a smile break out onto his own face, Erik's lips twitched in a friendly gesture back.
"So, I think I got you cornered." Charles reached across the chess board and slapped Erik's knee. The contact made Charles feel electric.
"You probably do," Erik said, his eyes catching Charles's again and holding onto him for a moment.
"Nothing better than chess, right?" Charles said, trying to ignore the electricity in his body, the current arcing between them.
"I can think of one thing," Erik said, he moved his hand to touch Charles's, which was still resting on Erik's knee. The little contact of skin on skin sent a ripple through Charles's blood.
Normally he liked to make a smooth approach, to ask about a girl's mutation, say something clever, maybe call it groovy. But Charles had never been attracted to those women, it had never felt like it did now. He never found himself experiencing anything as powerful as he was with Erik, even with other men. Screw it. Charles shoved any other thoughts out of his mind and in a move that sent the chess pieces flying all over the floor Charles reached across and catching hold of Erik kissed him.
There was a small bit of Charles's brain that let go of the anxiety he'd felt making this move, when Erik not only kissed him back but also pulled Charles into himself and rolled a little so they were closer to the center of the bed and were at less risk of falling off. The chess board clunked on to the ground with a dull thud.
Charles's fingers and Erik's both seem to have the same idea at the same time as they met in the middle of undoing Charles's buttons on the lilac shirt he was wearing and sent the middle most two flying off into the room somewhere as they popped off from the pressure. Erik laughed and that was the first time Charlie's thoughts he'd ever heard the laugh. It was nice.
"Sorry," Erik said and getting the shirt open stripped it off of Charles.
"It's fine," Charles felt light and giddy as he ran his hands under Erik's turtleneck and pulled it off over his head, messing his hair up quite a lot. There was no easy or sexy way to take off a turtleneck.
"I'll sew them on later," Erik promised.
"I'll hold you to that." Charles looked down into Erik's eyes.
Shirts, shoes, pants and all manner of clothes were quickly shed and tossed onto the floor. Hot bodies, and passionate caresses, kisses and panting mixed in Charles mind as pleasure and beauty seemed to overwhelm his senses. Erik's touch, to touch Erik, Charles felt that feeling of wholeness he'd been pushing down came to the forefront of his mind in those moments.
Charles had had sex before, even with other men, when he was younger he'd always told himself it was a phase, it was just fooling around, it was getting rowdy. The intensity with which he felt Erik's touch seemed to defy simple denial.
Laying under the covers, Erik's slim, frankly skinny body, next to his, Charles felt so much calmer, so much more relaxed than he had in a long time. That moment was perfect, it felt peaceful.
"Do you want a cigarette?" Erik asked.
"Um… yes if you got one." Charles rolled onto his back a little more and watched Erik, who half rolled on top of him to reach across to the bed stand. Their chests pressed together as Erik opened the drawer. "I see you unpacked then." Charles smiled and ran a hand through his own messed up hair. Erik took out the pack and smiled back at Charles.
"I did, and without your help… more's the pity." Erik's voice was soothing and suggestive that they might have had a lot of fun unpacking together. Rolling back onto his half of the bed and lighting two cigarettes Erik gave one to Charles.
"Thanks," Charles said, taking a drag and blowing out smoke. Erik had a half smile on his face and something devilish in his eye. Charles was eagerly waiting to find out what Erik was going to say when footsteps came a second before the door was opened.
Charles threw a hand to his temple in great alarm, cigarette still held between two fingers as Mr. Black came in. The man paused seeing Erik sitting alone in bed naked under the sheet, smoking, his clothes all over the room and looking rather tousled.
"Oh… um…" Mr. Black's mind didn't know what to make of what he was seeing.
"What?" Erik asked, a little surprised, he kept glancing at Charles who was holding perfectly still and staring very hard at Mr. Black. All the while ignoring the cigarette held in his fingers by his temple that was burning somewhat warmly close to him.
"I was looking for Charles, I thought he'd be in here… not that he would be in here, right now. I mean you clearly were just- I mean I'm sure you two are just- I mean, you seem like a real man to me." Mr. Black cut himself off from his confused spluttering. "Um… don't add to the population please, thanks, and um we do not prefer the lady agents to fraternize with the male ones. I guess I'll just go look for Charles somewhere else. It's not important anyway, just some stuff about food allergies for the next supply shipment. Do you have any… food allergies?" Mr. Black asked, still a little unsure about the situation.
Erik looked at Charles again as if not quite sure what to make of him sitting there still and then back at Mr. Black. "No."
"Okay." Mr. Black left and Charles let out a sigh of relief and concentration.
"What did you do to him?" Erik asked.
"I made him not see me," Charles said, so distracted and alarmed by the incident he stubbed out his cigarette on the bed stand, missing the ashtray entirely.
"You can do that?" Erik asked, his tone a little impressed.
"Yes," Throwing off the blankets Charles started finding his clothes and putting them on, still very agitated.
"You're leaving?" Erik asked, sounding a little surprised and disappointed.
"Yes," Charles re-belted his trousers. "We're-" his mind seemed to be in a swirl "done," he added awkwardly. It was not what he wanted to say, not how he meant it to sound but he couldn't think of any other way to say it at the moment. If the C.I.A. facility director had caught him in bed with Erik, like they were. Well what had happened to Alan Turing came to his mind, it had been a big deal when he'd been in his early days at university and had stuck with Charles ever since.
"Done, just want the one go around then. Have your fun and now you just wanna run?" Erik teased him.
"Yes, well- this was-" Charles struggled for his words, "a lark," shrugging trying to find a way to push down the feeling inside him, again . He couldn't afford these feelings, no matter how good, or right they felt.
"I've heard it called a lot of things Charles, but a 'lark'?" Erik raised an eyebrow at him, a laugh playing on his lips. Which only served to make Erik look very attractive, and alluring, while at the same time starting to make Charles frustrated with the other Mutant.
"Yes, well, it wasn't anything so best just forget about it," Charles said.
"Are you embarrassed Charles?" Erik asked. It was clear he didn't really think Charles was embarrassed the way Erik's smile got a little more amused.
"No, Erik, I'm not embarrassed I just." Charles finished turning his collar down somewhat aggressively.
"Then stay for a bit. I'll even forfeit the game." Erik pulled the blankets back inviting Charles back into the bed. His eyes sparkling and making that feeling Charles was trying to push down seem to rise to the surface again.
"We almost got caught," Charles pointed at the door trying to impress on Erik the severity of what the situation could have been. "What we just did is very illegal. People get sent to jail for this." Charles pointed out.
"You really care what society thinks about you?" Erik asked, his tone scornful of society.
"We have to live as part of it Erik, we should care a little." Charles fumbled with socks.
"You've got that skeleton behind the cedar paneling Charles." Erik laughed a little.
"What?" Charles snapped trying not to find Erik's amusement quite so attractive.
"You're hiding the fact you like to-"
"Don't say it," Charles warned. Erik paused for a moment, his eyes catching Charles's.
"Fuck men," he finished Charles gave him a displeased look.
"No need to be vulgar about it." Charles chided.
"Now you're just being British," Erik teased, he was just being an ass now.
"Erik!" frustrated now Charles fumbled with the buttons on his lilac shirt, his fingers couldn't seem to find the middle one as he did them up by touch.
"Stay," Erik said "who cares if they see the skeleton inside the closet, everybody has one."
"Erik, it's more complicated than that." It was so much more complicated than that. If someone like Mr. Black realized that Charles had put on these particular clothes with the surface intention of bothering Moira but with the real intention of hoping Erik might think he looked nice. If someone like Mr. Black realized that Charles had asked to play chess because he wanted to spend time with Erik. Had reached over and made the first move because he wanted to kiss Erik, to touch him, to be touched and kissed by Erik. If someone like Mr. Black realized even a part of that, then the real world consequences would be very harsh.
"No, it's not," Erik's voice was losing its laughter a little and becoming a little sweet. "If you want to screw around and pretend you like girls, fine, what do I care, this was, as you put it, a lark. But this is nothing to be ashamed of Charles." Erik moved to make a little more room in the bed again "stay for a bit longer?"
"I." Charles wanted to, he really did, in fact there was a growing part of him that wanted to stay the rest of the night. "Mr. Black just walked in and if I hadn't heard him a second before he'd have seen me here, and we just can't have that. Imagine what the C.I.A. would do with two apparently homosexual Mutants?" Charles huffed, uncomfortable and unsure how to proceed.
"What if I had a way to prevent Mr. Black accidentally coming in on us again?" Erik asked, sitting up a little more and almost bouncing with anticipation.
"How?" Charles asked, now fully dressed, still fumbling to find those middle buttons on his shirt. Part of him really wanted to know what Erik's suggestion might be to prevent them from getting caught.
"We use the deadbolt this time." Erik's eyes sparkled.
Charles felt a distinct stab of irritation. "That's a stupid plan" he grumped and giving up on his buttons, remembering now that they were no longer on his shirt, instead somewhere on Erik's room floor. Charles gave Erik an annoyed look at his joking suggestion then let the door swing shut behind him.
...
Erik sat back against the headboard of the bed and sighed a little, he'd wanted Charles to stay, maybe more than he wanted to admit to himself. And was a little disappointed he hadn't. Erik had barely lifted the cigarette back to his lips when the door opened a second after it had closed and Charles came back in. "I've changed my mind, it's a brilliant plan," Charles said, crossing back over to the bed, shucking off his cardigan as he went.
Erik raised a hand and the door bolt slid into place.