Intellectual Property 5/?
Title: Intellectual Property
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Disclaimer: Seriously?
Summary:
Under no circumstances is Charles allowed to paint Mr. Lehnsherr. None. Emma doesn't care how darkly seductive the man is or how he's the first thing Charles has wanted to paint in months. It's simply not allowed.
Of course, keeping Charles away from Erik would probably be easier if it didn't seem like the man was just as determined to have Charles as Charles was to have him.
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Erik roamed into the office at noon on a day where he'd meant to be in no later than nine. He should be storming in to counteract the pattern of tardiness, but it was difficult to feign irritation at the world when he'd spend the morning with Charles.
Charles had adored Erik's restaurant and had started sending him sporadic texts, asking whether or not Erik could manage to get away for breakfast/lunch/dinner so Charles could have another plate of dumplings and piles of black forest cake. Erik just smirked, not even attempting to feign that he had things he'd rather be doing. Some part of Erik poked at him, suggesting that perhaps he shouldn't be offering himself up quite so freely to Charles, maybe teasing him a little instead, but Erik shoved away the voice, too sure that he wanted Charles to concern himself with the way he usually did things.
So Erik started leaving work at five, and coming no earlier than nine, and sometimes even took a lunch break, which was more time off than he could remember ever taking. No one dared mention Erik's sudden shift in schedule to his face, the managing partners were content that, for the moment, Erik wasn't going to die of a heart attack before 35 (which was an eventuality they'd actually taken out insurance for), and everyone else too nervous that Erik would make them regret ever being born if they brought it up.
On this particular day, two weeks to the day after his first meeting with Charles, Erik came late to work and glowered at the paralegals and secretaries who were foolish enough to stare at him and whisper as he went by. (A lesser man would've been nervous that he somehow looked like he'd spent the morning on a couch wrapped around Charles Xavier, exchanging slow, steady kisses at the boring parts of Charles' latest favorite movie. But Erik had destroyed enough opponents with something so simple as lipstick on a shirt collar or a trail of bite mark on the collar bone to know how to prevent himself from looking untoward.)
Hank was already waiting for Erik at the end of the hall when he came past, and Erik spared a moment to be impressed that shy, stumbling Hank had the from desk secretary so firmly in his pocket that she was willing to warn him when Erik was on his way in. Hank matched Erik's stride easily and started rambling, "I shifted your 9:30 to 2:45 and your 10:30 to 4:00, but the 10:30 wasn't happy about it. I offered to shift him to another lawyer in the firm if he'd prefer, and he got agreeable after that, but I expect he intends to be as difficult as he can possibly be when he gets here."
"I shall have to find a way to endure." Erik snarked.
"I'm sure you will."
"If that's all?" Erik stepped around Hank and tossed open his office door while Hank stumbled out, "Actually-" and Erik stopped mid-step. Sitting in the chair behind Erik's desk was Selene Gallio, one of Erik's most unfortunate acquaintances. Hank finished in a tense hush, "Miss Gallio is here to see you. Ms. Schmidt told me to let her wait for you in your office."
"Don't damage the poor boy, Erik." Selene interrupted. "She is the Schmidt in 'Crane, Poole and Schmidt' after all, the boy couldn't help himself. And in his defense, I do believe he attempted to both text and phone you with a warning while you were with your little painter."
Hank shot Erik an apologetic look before he all but dove out of the room, and Erik seized control over his muscles a spare moment before he slammed the door in frustration. He spread a bland, pleasing look over his face, one he hadn't felt the need to assume since he'd first made Charles smile. "My apologies for making you wait, Ms. Gaillo. Had I know you were planning on seeing me this morning I would've come in earlier."
"I was under the impression you were supposed to be in to work at nine, Erik darling."
Erik gave her a subtle smirk, "You know full well that so long as I make them money it's more like guidelines than actual rules."
"I highly doubt Ms. Schmidt will see it that way."
Erik sat down in the client chair on the far side of his desk, pretending it didn't irritate him to be forced out of his position. "Ms Schmidt has informed me that part of my value to this firm is my ability to think and act outside the restraining little box that contaminates most of her hires."
Selene snorted, "Is that what passes for out of the box now? Bedding an artist?"
Two weeks ago Erik would've replied, 'I'm told that supporting the arts qualifies for my required pro bono hours,' but he couldn't bring himself to say such a thing about Charles, not even to Selene, and not even in jest. So Erik simply didn't reply, moving over to the small decanter of stout German coffee Hank always had ready for him whenever he came in, and deliberately didn't offer any to Selene.
"What darling, you have nothing to say? How terribly unlike you. Perhaps this little artist is a succubus in his spare time."
"I have many things to say Ms. Gaillo, however none of them are appropriate for a conversation between a lawyer and his client."
"Considering who's bed you spent your morning in I wouldn't think you cared much about about the formality of the attorney/client relationship."
Erik dropped down into the client chair, far more comfortable now that he knew what she was here for and snorted before he took a long drink of his coffee. Selene smirked, thinking Erik was faking his calm. "This is New York, darling. We allow many things, but your own rules of professional conduct demand that you cannot enter into a sexual relationship with a client while you're representing them. And as of this morning, you're both the boyfriend and the attorney of record for one Mr. Charles Xavier."
"Boyfriend? Really, Selene."
"I would assume you'd be trying to characterize this as true love rather than mocking the institution, your love unwilling to be denied so that you might throw yourself on the Bar's mercy. Without it you're just another man sleeping with his young, impressionable client." Selene smirked.
"My derision was for your choice of phrase, not the concept. Honestly, who over the age of 25 uses the term 'boyfriend'?"
"Feigning innocence is your best option Erik, I suggest you use it."
Erik smirked, "I assumed you're here with a different, more profitable option. The same one you always bring me."
Selene leaned forward and gave Erik a look that almost could've passed for sympathetic if her smile hadn't been so smug. "There are too many people in this industry who want to see you crash down in flames for you to have honestly thought you'd get away with your little tryst." Erik took another long draw on his coffee and leaned back in his chair, letting Selene get frustrated. "You know it's already been called in." A pause. "At this point it can't be stopped."
Erik set down his mug and stood, buttoning his jacket and moved for the door. Selene slithered to her feet and glowered at him. "They'll ruin you without his help Erik, there's no point in fighting."
Erik gave her a bland smile and headed out of the office, Selene trailing in his wake and making biting remarks about Erik's idiocy. Erik saw Selene to the elevator, a picture perfect gentleman the entire time, and the moment the doors shut behind her he stormed beck down the hall, people diving out of his way. He went past his own door and straight for Janos' empty office, slamming the door behind him so hard it shook the wall. Azazael was already sprawled on the long couch that took up one of Janos' walls, aware that Selene had been in the building and waiting for Erik to lose his temper and retrench. Azazael smirked, "Do you have a body in your office you need me to dispose of?"
Erik snorted, "When I need help with body dumping I'll have completely lost my touch."
Janos quietly closed out his documents while Azazael asked, "What was her threat?"
"Getting me disbarred."
Janos paused, and Azazael replied, "The Bar hates you."
"I believe that was the point."
Janos rocked back in his chair and quirked an eyebrow while Azazael asked, "But why? What does she get out of warning you? More to the point, what does she get out of trying to ruin you at all?"
Janos snorted, answering for the lot of them no one ever really needed a reason to destroy Erik. Azazael gave Erik a pointed look, expecting a bit more backstory, but Erik firmly refused to speak. A brisk knock on the door interrupted their staring contest and Hank poked his head in. "Ah, Mr Lehnsherr. Mr. Azazael had me clear your afternoon." Implied in the question was whether or not that was a bad thing, and Erik gave a sharp od.
"Did he have you clear Mr. Quested's as well?"
"He did, sir. And he told me to collect this," Hank handed over one of the small cameras the firm used for depositions.
Azazael plucked it out of Hank's hand before he gave it to Erik and interrupted, "I'll take that, thank you. On your way now, Hank." And he shut the door in Hank's face.
Erik furrowed at him and Azazael replied, "If I get called to testify about this whole mess I'd like to be able to honestly say that you had no opportunity to tamper with the evidence."
Erik nodded his understanding and went for the door, but Janos cleared his throat and stopped everyone. "You are sure, yes? This is what you want to do?"
"Of course it's what I want to do! Charles has to know what kind of information they're going to be looking for. I can't just send him out there blind. And when I don't cave to the demands goodness knows what they'll do to him because of me."
Janos smirked and Azazael teased, "I believe the question was about whether or not you actually wanted to go to all this trouble to keep Charles, not whether you thought the plan was sound."
Erik rolled his eyes and stepped for the door, muttering about ridiculous questions, wholeheartedly ignoring how he was blushing.
XXXXX
Charles was in a haze of happiness when Erik left that morning. They were taking it slow, random chunks of days spent together in between long hours of Erik working and Charles trying to keep up with all the commitments he'd made when no inspiration had seemed forthcoming. Erik had joined him for breakfast and a slow, quiet morning that Charles hadn't wanted to end. After Erik left Charles took the time to tidy up and tried to keep himself focused on the blank canvas in front of him rather than what he wanted to text Erik. His attention kept spiraling away until someone knocked on the door and gave him a respite.
Charles opened the door with a smile on his face, secretly hoping it would be Erik on the other side when he opened it. Charles' smile turned slightly less lecherous but no less pleased when he saw it was, "Emma!"
Emma however, didn't seem at all pleased with Charles' smile and went straight past him to the waiting canvas. "Emma dear? Is something wrong?"
She stopped sharply and stared at his non-existent work to snap, "This canvas is blank."
"Well yes, they usually are."
"You're supposed to have been spending these last two weeks painting, Charles."
"You know full well that painting doesn't necessarily mean producing."
Emma turned to him, a pillar of fury and said, "I know that when you were surrounded by your friends you produced a whole show's worth of art. But when we trusted your begging and left you alone with your lawyer you created nothing."
Charles bristled, "I did. not. beg. I made a well reasoned argument-"
"'Oh Emma'," she mocked, "'you just have to give us more time together. He's perfect.'"
"I like him, Emma. What's the matter with that?"
She wrenched the blank canvas from its easel and all but tossed it at Charles, "This doesn't strike you as a problem? Tell me Charles, what have you sketched lately?"
Charles rolled his eyes at her and pulled out his stack of papers and shook them emphatically. "Any of these ring a bell?"
"All of those were from our party, Charles. What have you sketched since you've fallen into the black abyss that is Mr. Lehnsherr?"
"I've-"
"And don't you dare lie to me Charles Xavier."
"I've got other concerns right now, and yes, one among them is Erik."
"Other concerns? Charles don't you remember anything? This is how it starts. It begins by ignoring your art for other things. You tell yourself you'll get back to it, but then you never do. And then you put it off and put off until the thought of going back, of catching up to where you should be, is too painful to contemplate, and so you stop thinking about it, devoting yourself to these other things with the thought that somehow you'll become productive again."
"It's not the same!"
"How in the hell is not the same?"
"I love him!" both of them froze, stunned by the unexpected declaration. "I love him, Emma," Charles said in a hush. "He's like a piece of a me I didn't know was missing."
"And what piece of you will your art be when you're forced to stop creating." Emma snapped, treating Charles' announcement with the disdain she thought it deserved.
"Erik won't do that."
"Because you believe in him, Charles? You honestly think that will be enough to stop him?"
"He won't need to be stopped."
"You're being a fool, Charles."
"I have faith, Emma. There's a difference."
Emma gathered up her bag and stormed for the door, "You know, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."
"This isn't the same, Emma!"
She paused just long enough to turn back to him and mutter, "You're wrong. And I hope that when you realize that there will at least be enough pieces of you for me to put you back together again."
Charles stormed around the apartment in a fury after she left, finally settling back at his easel and painting out Emma's white frame in a melee of thick red and black brushstrokes. Another knock came and Charles tossed open the door ready to yell at whoever had the temerity to interrupt him when he was in a mood. "What!"
Under normal circumstances Erik would just quirk an eyebrow at Charles and tease him for whatever had him in such a state, but this time Erik was actually nervous. Erik elbowed his way through the door and looked almost frantically around, before turning back to Charles, and running his hands up and down Charles' arms checking for injuries. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Charles stepped into Erik's space, calming Erik back down just as quickly as he'd riled Erik up. "Emma dropped by. There's nothing wrong, she was just being Emma."
"Excellent." Azazael interrupted before Charles could sink any further into Erik's embrace and grabbed Erik by the shirt, hauling him back out the door. "Now, Erik is going to wait outside while we have a conversation."
"Wait outside? Why?" Azazael shut and locked the door before Erik had a moment to explain and turned to usher Charles into his own living room. "What's going on?"
Azazael ignored the question and gestured to the side, "I'm sure you remember Mr. Quested."
Proper etiquette kicked in just long enough for Charles gave him a polite nod and say, "Janos, lovely to see you again, now what in the hell is going on?"
Azazael pulled a small handheld camera out of his pocket and turned it on Charles while Janos flipped on his blackberry and started reading. "Mr. Xavier, at any point in your relationship with Mr. Lehnsherr did he demand sexual relations as a condition of entering into or continuing your professional relationship?"
Charles stared at the camera in confusion before he said, "Are you out of your mind? What would make you think such a thing?"
Janos gave Charles the smallest of comforting smiles, "Please answer the question Mr. Xavier."
"No! Erik did no such thing!"
"At any point has Mr. Lehnsherr employed coercion, intimidation, or undue influence in entering a sexual relationship incident to your professional relationship?"
"Are you honestly asking me whether or not Erik has intimidated me into sleeping with him?"
"Mr. Xaver-"
"No, Mr. Quested. Anything I've done with Mr. Lehnsherr I've done of my own free will and choice."
"Finally Mr. Xavier, did you enter into a sexual relationship with Mr. Lehnsherr while he was representing you in a domestic relations matter?"
Charles cocked his head to the side, "You mean is Erik my divorce attorney?"
"Divorce, adoption, custody, paternity-"
"Yes, yes, I understand. And no, Erik isn't representing me in any of those matters. He advises me in business decisions."
Azazael snapped the camera shut and said, "Excellent, that should satisfy the Bar if they have any questions."
"I'm sorry, the Bar?"
"The New York State Bar tends to frown on lawyers sleeping with clients."
"But, we're not sleeping together."
Azazael just stared at him in disbelief for a moment before he twisted around to stare at Janos, who was trying not to giggle and ruin his image. Azazael tossed open the door to reveal a waiting Erik and shouted, "You aren't bedding this man?"
Erik's gaze flicked past Azazael to blushing Charles, and Erik smiled in response. Azazael groaned and stormed out of the room, grumbling obscenities in Russian. Janos grabbed Charles by the shoulders and pressed two quick kisses to his cheeks before following after Azazael.
"Umm, what just happened?"
"They're covering my ass."
Charles rolled his eyes and pulled Erik in from the hallway, shutting the door behind him and stepping right back in to Erik's space. "That doesn't explain what they feel the need to cover you from."
Erik heaved out a breath and leaned back against the door, thunking his head back against the wood. "I've tried a lot of cases, Charles."
Normally Charles would tease Erik about being wretchedly vague, but Charles had that lovely sense of knowing when Erik wasn't trying to be vague, he was trying to work his way into whatever he meant to say. Charles leaned into him, resting his head on Erik's shoulder and just waited, listening as Erik's heartbeat steadily slowed from the panic he'd been in. "I got distracted when I first started practicing law, agreeing to take on cases just because they were fascinating, not because I believed in them."
"I'm sure young lawyers don't have much choice in the kinds of cases they take. You do what your boss tells you." Charles consoled.
Erik huffed, "Charles, someday it's going to sink in that I'm very, very good at what I do."
"Yes, but-"
"I had a choice. Every last time, it was my choice. And when I was young, I chose wrong."
"What changed?"
Erik ran his fingers through Charles' hair, slowly, like he was savoring the motion and didn't expect to be given another chance. "I got a rapist set free." Charles waited, letting Erik take his time. "It was an impossible case. My client raped that girl, I knew it, and everyone else knew it too. But I got him set free on a technicality." Charles nuzzled closer, wrapping his arms tighter around Erik's waist, clinging to him. "I did it just to see if I could. Just because no one said it could be done."
"And after?"
"I saw his victim. She'd been at the trial the entire time, I'd even cross-examined her and I never even really noticed her. Not until he was cleared of the charges and she looked at me like I'd betrayed her."
"What did you do?"
"Walked away. I quit my job, went to my parent's house for a while, and then Shirley Scmidt turned up at my door."
"Shirley Schmidt… your boss?"
"One of the managing partners, yes. She turned up at the house and offered me a job, freedom to choose all my own cases, and promised to tell me when she thought I was about to cross the line."
"And, I'm crossing that line?"
Erik squeezed him tighter and laughed, "Shirley actually dropped by my office and gave me dating advice. I even think she's even got money in the office pool about how ugly the breakup will be."
"That's a truly warped office you've got there, Erik."
"The best people are."
Charles squeezed him a little tighter, "So, if she doesn't have a problem with me, then who does?"
"That client has plenty of friends, plenty of associates. And they've been trying to hire me on as his personal attorney ever since."
"And they've stopped trying to ask nicely."
Erik buried his face in the hair at Charles' temple and sighed out, "Yeah." Charles pressed even closer and Erik soothed, "Don't worry, I won't let them get to you. No matter what ridiculous thing they have planned now, I won't let them touch you."
Charles pulled back and gave Erik a look of disbelief, "Darling, I'm Charles Xavier."
"I know that, but-"
"No, I don't think you quite do. My father left almost all of his assets to me, and frankly the amount of money I have is obscene."
"Then why was Logan so concerned that you'd drive yourself broke?"
"Because Logan is a mother hen, despite all his protestations otherwise. And honestly, not even I would be able to spend all my money."
"But, Azazael didn't find that kind of money in his research."
Charles snorted, "My father was not a stupid man, darling. He anticipated that mother would remarry, and not to someone he approved of. He willed to her the amount required by law and then turned everything else over to me in a trust that couldn't be accessed by outside parties and lined with enough red tape to make it look like it doesn't belong to me. Howard Stark, Tony's father, was my father's executor and was given instructions to simplify all father's assets in the best sort of way for me to do what I wanted and not be stuck as a businessman. He made father's company a subsidiary in StarkTech and me a majority stockholder. As for my portfolio, I leave that to my broker, who takes tech advice from Tony, and I just spend the money."
"So you're…
"Filthy rich." Charles smirked. "So the bastard can come after me all he likes, but I've got enough influence to drive him out of the city if I've got a mind to. I'll be fine, Erik. We'll be fine."
Erik ran his hand through Charles' hair, with Charles pressing up in the movement to keep contact. "We."
"Yes you great lump, we."
Chapter 6