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Links 1 through 10 of 6291 alibis and wine's Bookmarks

Magneto considers this. Then, to Charles' surprise, he stands, and traverses the short distance around to the other side of Charles' desk, and then kneels in front of Charles' wheelchair on both knees. Charles opens his mouth to say something, and Magneto puts a hand on the other man's knee. "What if I didn't turn you down this time?" he asks carefully. "What if we just got over ourselves and called a truce and let ourselves be happy together for once? Would you be able to get used to that, too, Charles?"

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"Well, maybe it's a little personal," she rescinded. "I could have lured out any of the institute brats and taken them here, after all." She gestured around at the run-down property, rather like the Brotherhood house, though Pietro had no idea how far out of Bayville they were. "But the fact of the matter is," Mystique continued, "that Magneto won't come here for just any brat."

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“I can go and fetch my best pearls,” Erik says. "Perhaps get a you a cigar and rub your shoulders?"

Charles feels heat flame into his face with sudden stunning intensity. “And what makes you think you’d play my wife?” he sputters to Erik’s wry, knowing grin.

Erik chuckles slightly. “I never said I would, dearest, just that you would so deeply enjoy it if I did. I can guess what you always thought you’d have; a wife and children. You enjoy normality. I’m no pretty girl, but beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.”

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"No, Charles. Everyone else is training. You need to challenge yourself as well. And, being as you're so very, very lacking in anything other than short-distance sprints, suggesting to me that you may just have had some kind of brief career as either a peeping tom, or a petty thief, I think we've hit upon the area you'd best benefit from developing. Fighting skills."

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They played in silence for a long time, Charles clearly having the upper-hand this time since Erik’s mind was elsewhere. He was distracted by the lingering shakiness from his nightmare and Charles’s presence at the foot of his bed, the warm, clean smell of his soap surely soaking into Erik’s linens. Everything about Charles felt and looked and smelled like quiet comfort to Erik, and he was terrified by this. Comfort made you soft and complacent, and Erik couldn’t afford to lose the hard edge of his anger until Shaw was dead and the world was safe for people like them.

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‘Hank, look at me.’ He did, reluctantly. The professor’s vivid eyes locked onto his, and he wished he could look away again. One could see a hint of the power his mind held. But there was nothing commanding in his gaze. Instead, it seemed to implore him. ‘Love must be the reason and the means for all we do here,’ he said, emphasising every word. ‘What you see as a... a disorder, as you call it, is merely love, a love no different from any other. Love must never be stigmatised, because if we do that, we will lose ourselves to hypocrisy.’ The professor looked away and leaned back in his chair, as if the explanation had exhausted him.

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“He’s telling the truth,” she says after a long while, and her voice shakes as she massages her temples slowly. “He’s the Professor, and his last memory is of going to bed on the twenty-second of October, 1962, when he and Magneto were preparing to prevent a mutant called Sebastian Shaw from starting World War III with the Cuban Missile Crisis.”

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“Christ Erik it hurts,” Charles gasps, voice high and squeaky. “Oh it- ahh.” Somehow the sound goes straight to Erik’s balls; he freezes in shock when he realizes he has never in his life heard a sound more erotic than his best friend wheezing in pure unadulterated pain.

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“You’re always a lady,” he said. “And of course you can help plan the wedding.”

Raven’s face lit up, and Charles took the opportunity to cast a disparaging eye towards the bridal magazines.

“But I don’t think we’ll be needing all of those,” he said. “It’s going to be a small affair. Intimate. Just us – maybe Moira, if she’ll come.”

“Small,” Raven said, nodding. “Intimate. I can do that. No problem.”

Which was why Charles was surprised, to say the least, when two weeks later there were two dozen doves in his living room.

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Obviously, if Erik found it easy to talk about this, he would have spoken before now. So Charles starts with what he already knows. “Shaw did this to you,” he says. “Made you – unable to eat.”

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