Prompt Post: ROUND TWO

[oakenshields13]

ROUND TWO IS CLOSED

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Rules post.

Flat view.

ROUND TWO: Updates Post (WIPs only)

ROUND TWO: Fills Post (completed Fills only)

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Re: FILL: the fine print (2b/?)

[anonymous]

She blinked, thinking. "Oh, you mean the one that preachy -" she stopped when Charles gave her a look, the corner of her mouth tilting up and her eyes rolling almost imperceptibly, "that woman brought in the other day? I think you probably put that one in 'rare and fixed' pile in the storage closet."

Huh. That would make sense. Smirking, Raven tweaked his nose gently and returned to the shop floor.

It didn't take him long to ascertain that he did, in fact, still have the edition he was after, and locate it beneath Déscartes; after which, it was heading towards ten o'clock and he hadn't done any work with Scott yet.

The boy was sitting in the kitchen, watching Hank cook and answering his gentle questions on what he had learned the week before in a serious tone. Sometimes, Charles couldn't get over how different the brothers were: Alex, who was brash and loud and over-defensive, and who was easily bright enough to get good grades but couldn't see the point; and Scott, who followed in Alex's shadow like a puppy and who would listen to his lessons with a fiercely concentrated look, as if frowning at the page would allow him to absorb it better.

And then they would laugh simultaneously at something Sean did, or play basketball with Armando from the café where Alex and Sean worked, or give Charles identical looks of exasperated disbelief when he waxed lyrical over someone they'd never heard of; and then, yeah. Charles could see it.

("Alex," he'd asked, once. "Why won't you try?"

Alex had been heading out the door for his shift, but he stopped in the hallway, shrugging his jacket on over his jumper.

"It's a bit late for me," he said, mouth twisting diagonally into a humourless, self-deprecating smile.

"Alex -" Charles tried to reason with him, to explain that it's never too late, but Alex just slapped his arm and reached behind him for the doorknob.

"Get Scott sorted, yeah?" he'd said, tugging his hood up over his head. "He was always the smart one."

Still, there was his One Rule, and after several long, unfulfilling sessions Hank offered to take on teaching Alex for a bit, to allow Charles to try and deal with Sean's hyperactivity without distraction. It was a little galling that Hank had so much more success than Charles' did, even if Alex was curt and snide when frustrated - but Hank had graduated university at fifteen, and was well used to such comments.

"How do you do it?" he asked Hank, who'd leant back in his chair and shrugged, ever depreciative.

"He doesn't respond to authority figures." Which, really, shouldn't have surprised Charles at all. "Especially male ones, I would guess; they've probably made a habit of sticking around only as long as they want and then leaving him - and Scott - again."

Charles exhaled through his nose, smiling at Hank. "How're you so smart?"

Hank blushed, colour flaring along his cheekbones and behind his ears, and he ducked his head; but Charles saw the smile that he was fighting dance around the corners of his mouth, and knew that he was pleased, really.)

"Scott?" he said, sliding into the seat opposite him. "Did you do your reading?"

Later, Charles was sitting behind the desk, reviewing the list of book requests when the door chimed open, and he heard:

"Du sind wirklich zu alt, um so durchgeführt werden."

"Aber Papa -"

"Chockachockachockachocka -"

"Pietro! Hör auf damit! Kommen Sie hier!"

And he looked up to Erik Lehnsherr shaking a large umbrella out before sliding it into the stand and closing the door; he was wearing a dark great coat, and had a young girl on one hip. She was missing a shoe. A fair-haired boy of similar age had been playing with a steel miniture of a steam engine, but was now hovering about Erik's legs.

"Erik!" Charles was surprised, but delighted in equal measure; he heard Raven give a barely constrained squeak under her breath and he saw her disappear out to the back from the corner of his eye.

"Charles," he said, inclining his head. "I must apologise for Wanda's foot; she managed to lose her shoe somewhere between the train and the station exit."