1964-11-23 - Giving Thanks
Summary: Charles and Emma catch up after Thanksgiving dinner, only to have an old friend stop in…
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
emma-frost xavier 

Thanksgiving at the school is always a bit of a chaotic affair. Mainly because school is winding down, most of the students are going home for the holidays, but there's still a high number that don't. Plus, there's Charles overseeing everything and carving up turkeys, etcetera.

Now, though, it's a bit of a peaceful interlude. Children are stuffed and getting ready for bed, the other teachers are off socializing amongst themselves, and Charles… well, he's enjoying a bit of solitude at his favorite spot, the gazebo overlooking the lake. Cradling a cup of spiked cocoa in his hands, he smiles a bit. Another holiday survived, and the school didn't blow up as a bonus.

"And here you are. Evading the aftermath? You could at least do dishes." a voice says amusedly as Emma walks into view, sauntering down the path to the gazebo. "Or simply in the mood for a bit of peace and quiet? I can leave you to it, if you wish."

Charles smiles and shakes his head, "Hey, I did most of the cooking already, I think it's fine if the older students do the dishes." He chuckles, "Besides, if Logan wants to smack Scott with a dishrag, who am I to deny him that simple pleasure." Glancing over his shoulder, he tilts his head towards Emma, "And you know you're never a disturbance, at least to me. Sometimes I just like to get away from all the chaotic thoughts in people's heads." Sure, he does have impressive mental barriers, but why invite unnecessary strain.

Emma nods in understanding, as only a fellow telepath can. She steps up on the gazebo, gracefully ascending the steps and taking a seat on one of the benches nearby, having brought with her a small mug of warmed cider. "Fair enough." she says, seating herself and crossing her legs. "Another year we've survived, it seems."

Charles nods and takes a seat on the other end of the bench, "And the school wasn't even destroyed this time. I swear sometimes I should just give Damage Control half of the revenue and be done with it." He smiles a bit wryly, then looks over at Emma, "But I don't think we could have made this work without you. I mean, the expanded curriculum, the newer students…" Pausing, he takes a sip of his drink, then sighs, "You've definitely been a godsend in that regard, Emma."

The blonde woman inclines her head. "Administration and classes, certainly, but you've kept the core of the place alive. Especially in my absence." she says, quirking her lips in a faint frown. "I'm still making my way back into the swing of things."

Charles smiles, "The dream, yes. I suppose I have." He hmms, "I have to admit I wonder what this place would even be like in the coming years. It just feels like the world is changing so quickly now, even without thinking about mutants. Vietnam, Russia, China…" He sighs, looking over the lake, "How many mutants must be growing up in these places, and how many of them don't have the benefit of a safe place?"

"Given that powers often manifest under stress, as well as during puberty, I would imagine there are quite a few mutants in third world countries or second world countries where life is more stressful, perhaps more than we see here, where circumstances often allow them to hide their abilities, if they look like most everyone else.

The Professor nods at that, and looks over at Emma, "Well, in any case, has everything been going alright with getting back into things? Did you want any assistance?" Because, well, he knows better than to ask if she needs help. That way lies a bop upside the head, more than likely…

There's a brief shake of the head, then a sip from the cider. "No. No it's just…fitting back into things." she admits quietly. "I've been away, and there are new students, and older students who've drifted away. I've considered teaching a class, perhaps. To help." she murmurs, turning the mug around in her hands absently to warm them.

Charles smiles, "Not a bad idea, what were you thinking about? The spring semester is pretty wide open there." He gets a bit of an impish look, as he apparently has an idea, but isn't going to share unless asked.

Emma narrows her eyes slightly. "I suspect you already have something in mind. Psychology is usually appropriate. Or did you have another idea in mind?" she asks curiously.

The Professor hmmms, "Well, I was wondering if you wanted to teach a course regarding ethics? I think you'd be good at challenging preconceived notions for the students and making them think about what really is the correct action." He smiles a bit, "Just a thought, Emma. Psychology would be perfect for you as well."

That draws a laugh from Emma. "Me, teaching ethics? With my background?" she says amusedly. "I don't know that I'm the best role model in that regard. At least, considering the ethics I assume you prefer our students pick up, anyway. I'm much more…pragmatic." she says, after a slight pause.

Charles nods, "True, but that might be what makes it workable. As I said, it was a passing thought. Though I do think you would be pretty good at it." He smiles, his thoughts kept rather close to the metaphorical vest at the moment.

Emma hmmmmms, taking another sip from her cider quietly as she turns it over in her head. "I suppose, if you lack an ethics teacher, I could try it, at least. See what comes of it. I don't promise I'll continue it past the one semester, however, if it goes poorly."

Charles smiles, "Well, yes, of course. And if you don't feel comfortable with it, I wouldn't want you to do it… I just think you'd challenge the student's perceptions." He pauses, sipping his drink again as… well, it doesn't exactly take a telepath to see what's the question he really wants to ask.

Emma sighs a bit, a short exhalation. "Ask." she says after a moment, swirling her cider in her cup as she gazes down into it. "You know you want to." She doesn't look towards Charles as she says it though.

Charles blinks, then actually blushes, "Oh, I… um, well, er…" He pauses, then ahems, smooth Charles, real smooth. He then glances towards Emma, "I was wondering if you'd care to get dinner sometime. I mean, assuming you didn't have plans, but of course you would have plans if that were the case though if you didn't that would be quite delightful since, ah…" He pauses, realizes he's rambling, and has a bit of a sheepish look as he regards Emma, "Ah, my apologies. I didn't mean…" Well, he kinda did, but it is a little more complicated than that.

Emma doesn't let him dodge it either. "Of course you meant it." she says, a bit exasperated. "The fact that you were able to restrain yourself this long is amazing, frankly." She frowns a bit. "…just like that?" she asks, a bit questioning now. "…after….I left." She's not really good at these….serious relationship things. A bit of fun here and there, yes, but…

Charles looks down at his now empty mug, perhaps a bit annoyed that he fell into the trap. He's a psychiatrist as well for pity's sake! Then he smiles ruefully, "Well, I know there wasn't any bad feelings on my part… a bit of regret." He glances over at Emma, "I mean, I don't expect to pick up right where we left off, but… I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to try again, Emma." He smiles a bit, radiating that boyish charm that is just so exasperating in its earnestness.

Emma rolls her eyes a bit at the boyishness, frowning faintly, then finally glancing towards you, her ice blue eyes regarding you steadily. "I don't promise it will turn out any better than last time…" she warns, steadily. "I've never been good at this sort of thing."

Charles smiles a little, "Well, some things are worth the risk." He meets your gaze, and tilts his head a bit, "But it's just that… well, I guess if the past year has made anything clear, it's that nothing is ever certain. And I'd rather carpe the diem, as my Latin professor used to say."

Emma heaves an exasperated sigh, pursing her lips. "…alright." she says after a moment. "Dinner, then. Just dinner. To start." she adds, shifting in her seat. "…I'll even let you pick where." she says, her lips curving up slightly. Just for a moment.

If Charles catches the brief smile, he's smart enough not to let on, "Well, there is a new French place that opened in SoHo, if that sounds appealing?" Hey, at least he's not offering burgers at Harry's! "Say, seven tomorrow? I'm certain we could get a reservation."

"That's fine." Emma says simply, leaning back where she's sitting. "As long as it has a decent wine list, French works." She eyes. "Not like that bohemian bistro that promised unique and exotic wines from around the world and hadn't gotten anything more interesting than Austrialian and French."

Charles snickers a bit, "Hey, that was a mutual choice, but… okay, I'll take the blame for that one." He then adopts a rather bad Australian accent, "Croikey, guvnor, would ya like to try our shrimp on the barbie before ya go on that walkabout eh?" He shakes his head, "I know all waiters in New York are out of work actors, but why did we get the one that was working on his accents?"

There's that twitch to her lips again, where she catches herself from smiling, a crack in the normal icy facade. "It -was- moderately horrible." she admits. "I half expected him to be fighting a man in a crocodile suit for the dinner show."

Charles smiles, "Well, it would have definitely helped the ambience, that's for certain." He laughs a bit, "Though, I suppose if we had tried too much of that wine, we might have actually seen that fight."

"If we had enough, I would have been tempted to provoke a fight like that." Emma says dryly. "If nothing else to distract from the food. That chef believed in dumping cayenne on his Cajun food instead of actually seasoning it."

Charles chuckles, "Oh, to say nothing of what they considered blackened. More like, burnt to the point of eating ashes." He makes a bit of a face, "The fact that I started learning more about cooking after that was purely a coincidence. Really."

"We should have gone with our first choice and tried the burger place." she says with a sigh. "It's much harder to mess that up, at least. And a certain quality of beef is good enough to make it tasty."

Charles smiles, "Hey, the one time I suggested eating at Harry's, I took your eyes rolling back into your head and the Lovecraftian phrases coming out of your mouth two octaves lower than normal to be a 'no'." He winks at her with that.

Emma sniffs. "Harry's cuisine just proves teenagers will eat anything." she notes ascerbicly. "But he at least has some dishes that are tolerable. And good beer, at least."

Charles blinks, "Wait, who are you, and what did you with Miss Frost. Beer? You?" He grins cheerfully, "I do have some stout hidden away where Logan can't find it, though. My personal stash, as it were."

"I'm perfectly capable of drinking -good- beer. The problem is the vast majority available in this country is substandard at best." Emma points out. "A good stout, perhaps, or a hard cider, I can do…."

Charles nods, "Of course, and I quite agree. A good stout, though hard cider is a bit difficult to find." He smlies a touch, "And as I said, I keep my good ones hidden where Logan can't find them. Though he has tried…"

Emma frowns thoughfully. "…is it true we have a girl with similar abilities now to Logan? A…relation? Or something to that effect?" she says, sounding a bit doubtful. "Though I didn't think blades were inheritable." she adds dryly.

Charles nods, "It is. Though the exact relation is… vague. There definitely is a resemblance in attitude and appearance, and yes, the claws as well, though they are different." He gives Emma a wry expression, "Though I think Logan's claws are biological… just that, like the rest of him, they are bonded with adamantium."

Emma frowns. "And this girl's are not biological, originally?" she says slowly. "Some sort of body modification, then? I didn't think anyone was capable of something like that. Or that adamantium was easily located…"

Charles hrms, "And that is the quandary. She doesn't seem to have much knowledge of where she came from. There's just a lot that we don't know about her yet." He shakes his head, and looks at Emma, "It does seem Laura's claws are similar in nature, but structurally different.

"But you've scanned her mind." Emma says thoughfully. "To insure she's not some sort of plant? Something like that would be…something several groups might try to do to get someone close to us.

Charles nods, "I have, and there wasn't anything in there that I could detect." He frowns, "It might be buried so far that I couldn't see it, but I doubt that was the case."

Another figure appears, emerging from a balcony above; he's still dressed in armor fashioned from a multitude of metals forged together into a pearlescent mixture of black and lavender, but as he steps out into the cold night air, he lifts upon invisible currents only to float over the stone railing, arms outstretched. Upon Erik's face, there is a pensive expression, his mind roiling with deeply rooted concern. Slowly, he begins descending into the direction where Emma and Charles are conversing, an ominous figure backlit by lights that dimly lit the mansion's exterior.

"Perhaps. Buried commands wouldn't be unusual for - " She cuts, off, as Emma's head comes up as she sees the figure descending, before she's on her feet, setting down her cup on the bench beside her. "Erik." she says, her voice decidedly cool, her face taking its usual imperious, icy mien, the slight openneness on her features from her chat with Charles fading like a knight pulling on armor.

Charles blinks in surprise, then looks over as he says, "Erik? I… wasn't expecting you back at the school so soon." He glances over at Emma, then back towards Erik, waiting patiently since Erik will say what he wants to say, when he's ready to say it and not a moment before.

"Miss Frost." Erik's greeting is calculated, a sure sign that something is amiss. His usual formality remains intact, but there is a terseness to his voice that is telling to those who know him.

"There's been an incident in the South China Sea," Erik says, turning toward Charles. "Some sort of civilization exists, deep underwater, with technology that far exceeds anything mankind is capable of." He folds his arms, looking between the two with a stark frown. "I've witnessed an intense energy beam, capable of slicing a warship into two pieces. Whomever is there, under the water, they do not wish to be found, and they will kill to maintain whatever secrets they hold."

Emma blinks a bit at that, suprised by the information, enough that she pauses, before saying slowly. "And this matters to us because? It's far from here…and unless these are some sort of undersea mutants…" She trails off. "It seems more a worry of the goverments in the area, than us."

Charles is talking with Erik at the gazebo, Emma sitting adjacent to the Professor on the bench. He blinks in surprise, "That's… definitely concerning, though Emma does have a point. Unless there's something more that happened, Erik?" He arches a brow slightly towards Erik, waiting for his reply to that.

"Of course," Erik answers Emma. "But the United States are conducting naval operations in the area. I was approached by an Ethiopian representative. They wanted me to raise two submarines that were sunk in the area." He looks to Charles. "Have you noticed any kind of Mutant activity in the area?"

Emma frowns at that, folding her arms, but glancing over to Charles. She hasn't really used Cerebro since her return…really, Charles is the one who does. Still, she looks thoughful at the report. Two submarines? That's…serious enough. If two submarines have been lost…that's an act of war, after all.

Meanwhile, from out back of the garage, there's a 'clank,' as …well, Dizzy and some mutant with a large reptilian tail clamber out from under a large military pickup truck that seems to have appeared on back grounds recently. "Awright, Iggy, let's get this thing inside and we'll balance it tomorrow, I don't wanna do u-joints out here in the dark and I bet you still got studying to do." She says, "Kinda like how my Uncle said it could be overseas, this, though. Except the warm dorms to go back to, maybe." She does look out into the dark a moment, then, once some things are packed away, peels off some work gloves and fishes out a smoke, lights it, and just meanders about the lawns, until she hears voices, perhaps.

Charles shakes his head, "To be honest, I haven't looked in that area yet. But I think I had better. Especially if there's a mysterious force sinking submarines… it could make the conflict there go from bad to worse." Which is an understatement, as he glances over towards Julie, noticing the resident grease monkey and giving her a slight nod.

"It may be prudent to warn the U.S. Government," Erik advises. "War in Vietnam would be enough to invoke the draft. If they suspect some sort of advanced power, the military may see fit to intentionally draft mutants." He briefly glances toward Julie, then looks back to Charles. "I can make for Washington. Of any of us, my… identity is the most exposed. I am also not a U.S. citizen, so they would be limited in how they respond to my discovery."

Emma frowns a bit, then nods slowly. "It would be best to find out what we can. Or….if it's worth contacting these undersea dwellers." She glances over at the voices, scanning out, then brushing over Julie and Iggy's minds briefly as she nods in greeting to her as well. "And yes, they are limited…but then, you're a foreign mutant, so that might bring as much of a problem as it helps." There's a tone of faint concern in her voice.

Charles nods, "I still have a few… contacts in the government. I should probably check the area with Cerebro first, though, see what more I can discover." He smiles slightly at Emma, "We'll talk more later, of course. And Erik… it's good to see you again." Nodding to Erik, he makes his way back to the mansion proper.. .and more likely the basement that the students really aren't supposed to know about.

Julie 's mind is mostly on the complicated six-wheel drivetrain of that big truck, somehow connecting all this with flashes of driving the thing through a hellish Limbo-scape recently, under chaotic circumstances, wondering if she overdid things with her powers, perhaps. Physics homework is something she's trying to set her mind to, until she hears greetings and voices. "Hey, Prof," she says in passing, as Charles goes by, stuffing a free hand in the pocket of an appropriately-enough, military surplus winter coverall, and gives a wave to Emma and Erik, with that uncertainty about if she ought to be interrupting.

"A survivor of Auschwitz?" Erik counters, giving Emma a rueful smirk. "I dare them to try." He looks toward Charles next. "I will take a train to D.C. in the morning, and contact you once I'm there. I'm afraid swiftness is paramount in this situation." He pauses Charles momentarily, by reaching over to rest a hand upon the man's shoulder. Only then does he smile. "It is good to see you also, my old friend."

Its almost an afterthought; the metal plates composing Erik's armor begin undoing themselves, falling away and compressing themselves into a trio of spheres that float about his torso for a moment. This reveals the black X-Men uniform beneath, complete with violet piping and the emblazoned X-insignia. "You're welcome to John us," he tells Julie. "I will not depart until sunrise. We all need our due rest, after all."

"There are many who have no shame." Emma reminds Erik neutrally. "And fear drives people to make stupid mistakes. I would feel better if you had at least…someone with you." She frowns. "But it's up to you." There's a pause, then that slightly cool tone is back in her voice. "And what of Lorna?"

"Come with me," Erik tells Emma without hesitation. "I could certainly use someone with your talents." Of course, when Lorna is brought up, he visibly stiffens. "I have not been in contact with her," he admits. "I can only hope that my absence has served to stiffen her spine."

There's a flash in Emma's ice blue eyes at that. "You left her alone to 'stiffen her spine'…" she repeats, a faint curl to her lip at it. "She was in your care and you abandoned her, right when she needed you most. Her powers are swelling, and she had no one to teach her." she bites out, each word crisp and filled with the finest edge of scorn. "I expected better of you." She puts a hand on a hip, meeting Erik's eyes directly. "Yes. Perhaps I had best come with you. If nothing else to make sure no other overestimations I have of you become an issue."

Julie ahs, seeming to hitch her step a moment as things get a bit more tense. "Well, I'll say, I guess. She's been out in Mutant Town kinda looking out for people after there was some trouble from these usual bad guy types. Some of the other kids and I, well, we been going down there to help her out, you know, be sure she's OK. Kinda been worried about her and all." She puffs on that ciggy. But she's…really something else when she gets rolling."

For a moment, there is a flash of ire. It isn't visible in his expression, his body language, but a skilled telepath would sense it to be sure. Erik levels is icy gaze upon Emma, forming a smile that is bitterly sweet. "My dear Miss Frost, I might beg of you to mind your own affairs. Lorna leans upon me too heavily. I will not serve as a crutch, for a crutch serves only to retard a woman's growth."

At Julie's word, Erik turns to study her for a moment. "I am confident that she will grow into the woman she must be," he states. "With or without my help." His eyes turn then back to Emma. "I'll be sure to book two tickets," he tells her, before smiling in a demure manner. "If only to assure I am on my best behavior when meeting with our most honorable delegates."

The sarcasm is strong with this one.

"The woman she will be is dependent on the family she has. With none to show her the way, what path will she take, I wonder?" Emma murmurs, not showing any sign of quailing at the ire she feels. "After all…you know first hand what path anger coupled with power can lead to."

She tilts her head up, her eyes narrowing at the snark in the seemingly innocent words. "That will do then. Inform me of the time. I will be there, as an envoy. And we will strive to learn what we can and temper hasty reactions."

Julie makes a bit of a silent whistle with her lips, having come late to the conversation, so simply asks. "Some kind of delegation, somewhere?" Well, it may not be her business, but maybe a change of subject might help.

A syrupy smile finds its way to Erik's face. "And you assume such anger is a negative force?" The tall man sucks on his teeth for a moment, before turning toward Julie. "Tension in South Asia," he tells her. "Miss Frost and I mean to assure that certain tempers don't… boil over."

Emma folds her arms over her chest. "Or at least, that we're aware how they're going to boil over and how it will affect us, as needed." she says to Julie, her cool gaze still on Erik, an unamused expression on her face. Or, she doesn't say, she will…nudge things. To ensure sanity prevails. It won't be the first time she's done it, after all. She turns her gaze on Julie. "Hopefully, it will be something that doesn't touch us here."

Julie nods, "Yeah, I'd just as soon not have my brothers and cousins end up over there, not over something crazy, anyhow. And I guess some of the boys getting drafted here, well, that could get kinda complicated. Everyone's talking about it already." She frowns, "Don't think they'd let me fly, anyway."

"One of our goals," Erik tells Julie, "is to assure that does not happen." He turns his attention back to Emma. "Forgive me. In my room, there is a pipe, a bottle of scotch, and a journal that beckons me. I will call for you in the morning; seven o'clock sharp." He takes a step back then, eyebrows lifted. "Pleasant evening, ladies."

With that, the Master of Magnetism rises into the air, spheres following him, and floats back toward the same balcony from whence he came.

Emma hmmphs, her chin tilting up slightly. "I shall expect you then." she says, her voice clipped. "And shall be packed and ready to depart." With all the regal distain of a queen, she inclines her head, reaching over to pick up the cooled glass of cider at the bench beside her, stepping out of the gazebo to follow Charles towards the building. "I'll bid you both good night then." she says, then more softly. "Don't worry Julie. We'll see to this."

Julie nods, and girl-scout salutes as Erik, then the other two head out, "Yeah, whatever it is, well, good luck. Kinda been thinking this is all about nothing, but, yeah, the news has been weird, so, well, you know. Night, though, Miz Frost, I guess I better go hit the books."

Emma smiles faintly. "You do that…best to be prepared for class tomorrow." she says simply, then walks inside, a last little wave of her hand over her shoulder, before she vanishes inside. Time to get packing, after all.

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