Silly Fic
I've written a silly Xavier/Magneto fic from X-Men movieverse (sort of). It's kind of AU; Charles is obviously not independently wealthy because he is working for the man.
Title: Power Crisis
Fandom: X-Men movieverse
Rating: PG
Power Crisis, by scoured. Disclaimer: Legally, they belong to Marvel and Fox.
"Good afternoon, Charles. I've come to take you to lunch."
Charles backed his chair away from his computer and turned to face Erik, across the mahogany desk. What had previously been a blank expression evolved into a smile.
"That sounds lovely, Erik. You will have to wait for another ten minutes, however. My lunch break starts at noon."
Charles' voice sounded in the other man's head. The asshole in the back office is very particular about my schedule.
Erik frowned a bit. He had never known "asshole" to be a word in his lover's vocabulary, except in very select circumstances.
"Well, that's fine. I'm in no hurry," he replied, as he settled into one of the leather chairs. It was comfortable, designed to make you more content while you waited for the Very Important Man to be ready to see you.
Erik was jolted from his musings on capitalist hierarchy by the phone keening, like staccato bursts from a police siren. Why can't we just have a simple bell anymore? Who would ever want to invite that sound into their office? he wondered.
No matter how horrific the phone was, though, Charles did not seem moved to answer it. Rather, he stared at it with intense concentration.
"Oh no, I definitely do not want to talk to you," he said quietly. "Why don't you call Joyce in Human Resources instead?"
Abruptly, the phone ceased its caterwauling. He looked up at his partner, irritably.
"You would not believe how many times she's called me," he complained, "and how many times I have transferred her to Human Resources. And still, she doesn't understand that I don't have the answer to her questions. Or rather, that the answer to her questions is, 'Call Joyce in Human Resources.'"
"What did you just do?" Erik broke into his tirade.
"I told her to call Joyce in Human Resources."
"No you didn't," he hissed, trying not to let anyone else in the office hear this conversation. "You psychically implanted a suggestion in her head that she leave you alone and call someone else!"
"Now really, Erik, I was just saving us both time," Charles responded, looking affronted.
"How many times have I heard your lecture on the responsible uses of our powers? I can't..."
"Oh, Charles?" a voice boomed from the back office. "Is that someone with an appointment? I don't remember having any appointments before lunch."
"No, sir. It's a...friend." At this, Erik cringed. "He's here to take me to lunch."
"As I recall, your lunch break doesn't begin for another five minutes."
"He got here early, sir. He's waiting for my lunch break to begin."
"Punctuality is something I reward," the voice pompously continued. "Laziness, and personal conversations on the clock, however, are not. Please tell your friend to wait in the hallway."
"Charles worked to contain his rage - his eyes widened, his teeth buried themselves into his lower lip.
The voice from the back office spoke again. "Charles, I've been thinking. You don't seem to have much work here today. It seems a shame to keep you here, doing nothing. Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off? And, just between us, you can stay clocked in."
"Well, thank you sir. I believe I'll take you up on that offer."
Erik was beginning to sputter, trying to contain his outrage at what was obviously happening.
"Is there someone out there, Charles?"
"Yes, sir. It's my lover. He's come to take me to lunch, and possibly afterwards he will ravage in the bed we share in our home. Although, at the moment he looks like he is gearing up for a fight."
"Ah. Have fun. Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon."
Charles gathered up his belongings and Erik opened the door as he wheeled out. There was only a terse silence as they moved through the parking lot, Charles lifted himself into the car, and Erik put away the wheelchair and climbed behind the wheel.
He did not turn the key. Matter-of-factly, he stated, "You just modified that man's memories and made him do your will, purely for your own benefit."
"Not purely for my own benefit. Also because he deserved it, for being a dick."
"How often do you do that?"
"Not often."
"Too often, obviously! What is this? Misusing your gifts, crude name calling - you are acting completely unlike yourself!"
"Do you see how this conversation is progressing? I say something, you listen, and then you say something that indicates your mind was unchanged by what I have said, or possibly that you were not listening. However, you are doing it on purpose. I can tell. It's tied into being a telepath." Charles stopped for breath and thought, but help up his finger to indicate he wasn't done. "The people I work with, on the other hand," he continued more calmly, "do not do this on purpose, in order to prove a point, or infuriate. they are just too self-important to listen. And it is maddening, because I know what is going on in their minds; I can hear what my words are being processed into, how things are twisted so that I am in the wrong. It's just easier to convince them without words."
"I understand that," Erik responded, staring his partner directly in the eyes. "But I also know that what is easy is often not what is right, and that using our powers in such a way only leads to fear and hatred."
Charles looked sheepish as he recalled reminding the zealous Erik of this more than once. "Does this mean you're not going to take me to lunch?"
Erik sighed and started the car. "Of course I'm going to take you to lunch. And over lunch we can talk about new job possibilities. This secretary position does not seem to suit you. Perhaps you can find a job where your boss isn't such an asshole."
"I am an office manager, thank you," he responded pointedly. "And I'm not going to quit."
"Why not?"
Charles looked at Erik incredulously. "It just doesn't seem very responsible, does it?"
Title: Power Crisis
Fandom: X-Men movieverse
Rating: PG
Power Crisis, by scoured. Disclaimer: Legally, they belong to Marvel and Fox.
"Good afternoon, Charles. I've come to take you to lunch."
Charles backed his chair away from his computer and turned to face Erik, across the mahogany desk. What had previously been a blank expression evolved into a smile.
"That sounds lovely, Erik. You will have to wait for another ten minutes, however. My lunch break starts at noon."
Charles' voice sounded in the other man's head. The asshole in the back office is very particular about my schedule.
Erik frowned a bit. He had never known "asshole" to be a word in his lover's vocabulary, except in very select circumstances.
"Well, that's fine. I'm in no hurry," he replied, as he settled into one of the leather chairs. It was comfortable, designed to make you more content while you waited for the Very Important Man to be ready to see you.
Erik was jolted from his musings on capitalist hierarchy by the phone keening, like staccato bursts from a police siren. Why can't we just have a simple bell anymore? Who would ever want to invite that sound into their office? he wondered.
No matter how horrific the phone was, though, Charles did not seem moved to answer it. Rather, he stared at it with intense concentration.
"Oh no, I definitely do not want to talk to you," he said quietly. "Why don't you call Joyce in Human Resources instead?"
Abruptly, the phone ceased its caterwauling. He looked up at his partner, irritably.
"You would not believe how many times she's called me," he complained, "and how many times I have transferred her to Human Resources. And still, she doesn't understand that I don't have the answer to her questions. Or rather, that the answer to her questions is, 'Call Joyce in Human Resources.'"
"What did you just do?" Erik broke into his tirade.
"I told her to call Joyce in Human Resources."
"No you didn't," he hissed, trying not to let anyone else in the office hear this conversation. "You psychically implanted a suggestion in her head that she leave you alone and call someone else!"
"Now really, Erik, I was just saving us both time," Charles responded, looking affronted.
"How many times have I heard your lecture on the responsible uses of our powers? I can't..."
"Oh, Charles?" a voice boomed from the back office. "Is that someone with an appointment? I don't remember having any appointments before lunch."
"No, sir. It's a...friend." At this, Erik cringed. "He's here to take me to lunch."
"As I recall, your lunch break doesn't begin for another five minutes."
"He got here early, sir. He's waiting for my lunch break to begin."
"Punctuality is something I reward," the voice pompously continued. "Laziness, and personal conversations on the clock, however, are not. Please tell your friend to wait in the hallway."
"Charles worked to contain his rage - his eyes widened, his teeth buried themselves into his lower lip.
The voice from the back office spoke again. "Charles, I've been thinking. You don't seem to have much work here today. It seems a shame to keep you here, doing nothing. Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off? And, just between us, you can stay clocked in."
"Well, thank you sir. I believe I'll take you up on that offer."
Erik was beginning to sputter, trying to contain his outrage at what was obviously happening.
"Is there someone out there, Charles?"
"Yes, sir. It's my lover. He's come to take me to lunch, and possibly afterwards he will ravage in the bed we share in our home. Although, at the moment he looks like he is gearing up for a fight."
"Ah. Have fun. Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon."
Charles gathered up his belongings and Erik opened the door as he wheeled out. There was only a terse silence as they moved through the parking lot, Charles lifted himself into the car, and Erik put away the wheelchair and climbed behind the wheel.
He did not turn the key. Matter-of-factly, he stated, "You just modified that man's memories and made him do your will, purely for your own benefit."
"Not purely for my own benefit. Also because he deserved it, for being a dick."
"How often do you do that?"
"Not often."
"Too often, obviously! What is this? Misusing your gifts, crude name calling - you are acting completely unlike yourself!"
"Do you see how this conversation is progressing? I say something, you listen, and then you say something that indicates your mind was unchanged by what I have said, or possibly that you were not listening. However, you are doing it on purpose. I can tell. It's tied into being a telepath." Charles stopped for breath and thought, but help up his finger to indicate he wasn't done. "The people I work with, on the other hand," he continued more calmly, "do not do this on purpose, in order to prove a point, or infuriate. they are just too self-important to listen. And it is maddening, because I know what is going on in their minds; I can hear what my words are being processed into, how things are twisted so that I am in the wrong. It's just easier to convince them without words."
"I understand that," Erik responded, staring his partner directly in the eyes. "But I also know that what is easy is often not what is right, and that using our powers in such a way only leads to fear and hatred."
Charles looked sheepish as he recalled reminding the zealous Erik of this more than once. "Does this mean you're not going to take me to lunch?"
Erik sighed and started the car. "Of course I'm going to take you to lunch. And over lunch we can talk about new job possibilities. This secretary position does not seem to suit you. Perhaps you can find a job where your boss isn't such an asshole."
"I am an office manager, thank you," he responded pointedly. "And I'm not going to quit."
"Why not?"
Charles looked at Erik incredulously. "It just doesn't seem very responsible, does it?"