round 3 overflow post

[starkmodistries.livejournal.com]

Round 3 Overflow Post

This post is for Round 3 fills only. We ask that when a round hits 8500 comments, fillers begin moving their fills to this post.

Format:
SUBJECT LINE -- Round #, short description of fic (ex: "Alex/Hank, lab partners")
--- Link to the prompt
--- Text of the prompt

--- Link to the fill
OR
--- Entire text of the fill

EXAMPLE:
Prompt: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=1038472#t2038174

Charles/Erik -- Charles is a bakery owner whose most frequent customer is Erik.

Fill: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=0139482#t4502942

Charles started off the morning the same way he always did...

Comments

FILL: Everyday Love in Stockholm 137/?

[tahariel.livejournal.com]

He hums thoughtfully, tucking the sheet away with the rest in his file to look at again later. “Europe isn’t going to like this,” he says, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers together over his chest. “They were leery enough about South America to send assistance, useless though it was. If Asia starts going too, we could be looking at another world war, if Europe decides they want to step in.”

Emma nods, eyes fixed on his. “Which is exactly why we are going to do nothing.”

The sudden silence is tense and sharp-edged, his full attention snapping to her where usually it would be on their surroundings, keeping track of everything at once. They look at each other for a long moment, two predators sizing one another up.

“And why should I do that?” he asks, maintaining a razor edge of calm. “The quicker we have allies, the more pressure we can lay back against Europe when it comes to that.”

Her voice is neutral, though her eyes are blazing with the love of a good fight. It’s the thing he likes best about her, because he feels it, too. “Getting involved will only make Europe certain that you plan to cross the Atlantic and take the fight to them. It’s an escalation we cannot afford right now, not with two continents to secure and rebuild.”

“Some might say it’s our duty to help our brothers and sisters fight oppression. It’s why we went to war in South America.”

“Two things,” Emma says, counting them off on her fingers. “One, the Brazilian mutants invited us in, which Sunfire has not. Two, I told you not to and you did it anyway, which is why we’re having this discussion now. Enough is enough, Magneto. You can’t take over the world if you don’t secure what you already have, or you’ll go home only to find out someone has reconquered it behind your back.”

He considers what she’s said, listens to the hustle and bustle of their people doing their jobs outside the office, all of them working hard to put into place the things he decides, regardless of what he decides. He could choose, right now, to lend support to the Japanese mutants. It feels right to his gut, to his knee-jerk first reaction. But, perhaps, now is the time to start listening to what others have to say, instead of only to himself and his instincts.

“What would you suggest?” he asks instead, and Emma’s smile this time is not sharp at all but warm.



XXXII

“It’s nice to work for someone who values me for my mind, not what my mind can do, and not for the body it comes in,” Emma says later, before he can leave.

“I’m not Schmidt,” Erik says, and has never liked her so much as when she says “No, you’re not.”



XXXIII

He pauses on the way out of her office, just a moment of hesitation, but he does not speak to Shadowcat after all. Another time, perhaps he’ll offer, if she asks.



XXXIV

Whenever Erik is using his powers in his workroom Charles always seems to wander in, setting himself down in the spare chair and leaning on the edge of the desk as the metal bends and reshapes itself to Erik’s needs. “I could take this into the living room, if you’d be more comfortable,” he says eventually, turning to look at Charles where he’s propped his chin on the heel of one hand, fascination on his face.

Charles shrugs, a fluid motion that looks rather like the waves of a woollen ocean as his cardigan rises and falls. “It’s nice in here. I just like to watch you work. Do you mind?”

“No.” Erik ducks his head and turns back to the piece of iron he’s been trying to mould into something resembling a duck, but it’s coming out rather more like a blob, at present. It’s for a mobile he’s making as a present for Raven and Azazel, entirely different than anything he’s tried to make before, and he has never claimed to be artistic. The menorah had been easier, somehow, than this, springing fully formed from some well of inspiration he had not known he had. “You can stay, if you like.”

“Alright,” Charles says, and when he smiles the corners of his eyes crinkle up in a way that makes Erik want to touch them with the tips of his fingers, not to smooth them out but to feel the way the skin lies when Charles is happy.