InsaneJournal

Who: Charles Xavier and Moira Kinross
Where: At the Xavier home
When: Saturday
What: Invent things, drink tea
Status: Completed
Warnings:None. It's Charles and Moira supervised by a housekeeper.





The rumble of heavy equipment being unloaded off of trucks was muffled by the thick walls of the Xavier estate, it was punctuated by the occasional bellow from Edna, who had appointed herself the General Contractor for additions.

Moira sat comfortably on a stainless steel stool, digging through a box of misc. bolts, screws and electrical wire and muttered, “Charles, I have no idea what a self sealing stem bolt is.”

“It’s that,” Charles pointed at the part he needed on the pile, and the self sealing stem bolt came floating to his hand. He flipped it a couple times in his hand, attempting to visualize how he needed this to fit together. He had no idea if telepathic amplification would work anything at all like sound amplification, but he hoped so.

“I’ve been noticing that in the tower, the others from Genosha…. They’re not exactly louder in my brain, but they feel different. What I don’t know is if that is residual resonance from the shared trauma or if it has something to do with genetics.”

It occurred to Moira, that there were many things that she thought, much less felt throughout the day, that were completely inappropriate. Tin foil. I wonder how much I would have to wrap around my head before it would block him out. She sighed realizing that an entire roll was unlikely to suffice.

Looking over at Charles, she said quietly, “I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a riot of people in your head and how difficult it must be to process it all.”

She looked out the window, and noticed that Edna was making it abundantly clear to the contractors that cigarette butts would not be tolerated on the pristine lawn. Moira turned back to Charles, “When you say they feel different… what does that mean?”

“I can’t explain how it feels,” Charles said simply, tinkering with the connections on the machine in front of him. “You… Well, that’s not a good example, I could practically read your mind before, so you just feel like you. But say Dr. Palmer. She’s a very intelligent woman, and I of course am still working fairly hard at not prying, but she feels… human. When I spoke with Kitty, on the other hand, there’s an extra…. It’s not quite a buzz, but, it’s something.”

Charles shook his head. “I’m not very good at describing it. But I’m wondering if I can amplify my powers, whether I can hear that buzz better. If I could, could we find them, these new people of mine, before Sinister does? Could I help them before they get tortured.”

He picked up a metal helmet off the ground, wires trailing from it to the machine in front of him, and put it on his head. “This looks ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

Moira looked at Charles critically and sighed, “Charles, remember our popped collar phase? I didn’t think that anything could possibly surpass it, but that just might.” She shoved a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t give sheep’s left bollock what it looks like though. How likely is it to electrocute your brain?”

“Currently?” Charles asked, taking off the helmet and setting it back on the table next to him. “I’d say 35%. Which is still too big of a risk. I need to do some more research on deep brain stimulation with the functional goal of amplification and make some adjustments before I try it.”

He backed his chair away from the workstation, moving to look out the window. “I spoke to the avionics tech this morning, they’ve begun the upgrades on the Blackbird. It should actually be ready for delivery before the hangar is complete. Have you taken a look at the pilot training courses I sent you?”

“I think that maintaining congruence in terms of heart rate variability might be a good way to decrease the stress on your body while using this monstrosity,’. She tapped the tip of her finger on her cheekbone a couple of times as she thought.

“I’m going to assume that you will not be trying it out for the first time on your own.” She gave him a sideways glance, “Although they say that there’s no fool like an old fool, so perhaps we should clarify that.”

Lest he think that she was avoiding the question about the pilot training courses, she continued, “Yes, I’ve looked at them.” She sighed.

“Moira, I am not trying to explode my own brain, I promise you that. First of all, cleaning is far too expensive, and I am attempting to keep the budget reasonable. Possibly we should build in a neurofeedback system.” Charles looked up, watching her attempt to hide the emotions that flashed across her face.

“What’s wrong? You look as if someone stole your sriracha. I told Edna to make sure we stocked your favorites.”

“That was very kind of you, Moira responded automatically, “both to assure me that you are not trying to explode your own brain and for reminding Edna about my need for sriracha.”

She gave him a hard stare, “If I were to say ‘nothing is wrong, this is just my face’ would you accept that or would you go spelunking around in my brain until you find out for yourself?”

Well before Sinister had upended his life, Charles had always been perceptive. He’d been especially good at knowing how to read her, had always seemed to know when “nothing” meant “Actually, I’m screaming inside my head, but I would prefer that we pretend that everything is fine, absolutely fine like civilized people, thank you very much.” He’d also understood that sometimes “I’m fine,” meant “Holy Mary Mother of God, talk me off the ledge I just put myself on.”

Still, this was different. Polite denial no longer had plausible deniability and that irritated her, “Charles, you do know that there are times you are, absolutely without a doubt, enough to make a person barking mad.”

Charles sighed, “I would prefer not to go spelunking in your brain Moira. I am doing everything in my power not to do so, and not just because I don’t want to inadvertently stumble on any fantasies of Jamie Fraser and his tiny kilt. But that means you actually still need to talk to me.”

He rolled closer to where she was sitting. “I know that I exploded your ordered life with this, Moira. If you need to go back to your research, I understand.” //I don’t want you to go,// Charles grimaced, annoyed as he realized that he might be avoiding her thoughts, but he wasn’t actually keeping his to himself. //But, I want you to be safe.//

“It’s not Jamie Fraser you utter git. If you must know, my fantasies take place in outer space and involve the captain of a starship.” She was about to go off on an utter tear, when she “heard” him.

Moira paused, “Charles, I’m not done here. I agreed to help find a cure for whatever is plaguing Dr. Banner and Captain Rogers. She smiled at him, “And fortunately at this stage of my life, I can do research anywhere I choose. I may not be one of ‘your’ people, Charles, but you will always be my person.” She briskly brushed off her pants.

“Were you wanting to button up the toolbox and find Edna for some tea or would you rather tell me about your highly creative and no doubt shocking fantasies involving Dorothy, Rose and Blanche?”

Charles laughed. “Let’s get you some tea,” He said mildly, refusing to comment on her speculation regarding his fantasies, and deciding not to push her discomfort over her own emotional expression. His tools began to float back into the toolbox on the table of their own accord. “I can tell you about a medical procedural I recently took up in my free time, I think you might enjoy it. It follows the doctors in an under resourced emergency room, where they make miraculous saves daily, despite the influx of patients beyond their capacity.”

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.” Moira said as she closed the top of the toolbox once the last wrench had floated into place. She continued as they began moving towards the kitchen, “Naturally, I’m sure that frothing administrators moaning about staff overtime simply do not exist in this wonderous hospital.” She laughed, grateful for how easily she and Charles could fall back into the comfort of their friendship, “In between all the miracles, I assume there is time for moments of profound thoughts on why one went to medical school and perhaps even a bit of romantic tension”

She followed Charles out of the room, “No, thank you sir. Aliens, Norse gods, jet packs, humans with powers straight out of the Saturday morning cartoons, those I will learn to accept.” She brushed a bit of dust from Charles’s shoulder., “A miracle factory disguised as a hospital is a bridge too far.”

“I wouldn’t know about romantic tension,” Charles smiled, attempting to look innocent, “But the nurses threatened to strike last episode.” He led her to the sunroom overlooking the work in the backyard, where a tea service was already set out. “That woman has powers greater than any of them,” he said, looking at the spread, which included warm scones and tiny tea sandwiches filled with jam, chocolate and marshmallow fluff.

“Would you care to pour?” he asked, deferring to her expertise in the art of a proper cup of tea.

“Certainly,” Moira poured them each a cup of the steaming tea, topped both with a splash of milk and using a set of gleaming silver tongs, added two lumps of sugar to Charles’s cup and then passed the gold rimmed cup and saucer across the table. She added two lumps to her own cup, considered the mixture critically, and then added two more. The only sound for a few seconds was the delicate clink of the silver spoons against the side of the cups.

Moira pulled her leatherbound journal out of the bag that had been placed next to the table. The two began to talk, heads bent together over the notebook, taking turns scrawling notes and sketching neither noticed the housekeeper standing in the door.

Edna crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the two. She wondered how two so very brilliant minds could be so utterly thick headed when it came to the obvious. “None of my never mind, that’s for sure, but if I were asked, I would tell them that they’d best get on with it before they run outta’ time,” she muttered under her breath as she left the two friends to their work.