Chapter Text
"You are on mDate?"
"Yes," Emma says, cocking her hip and leaning forward so he can see a dangerous amount of cleavage. She's wearing the white lacy camisole again, the one that Erik feels is highly inappropriate for his Campaign Advisor cum Office Director. But if he's learned anything by now, it's never to critique Emma's clothing. So instead he focuses back on her face and asks again. "Seriously, you? Online dating?"
"Don't knock it. Lots of people meet online these days. It's a good way to weed out all the creeps without taking the time to meet them in person. And, anyway, I like the attention."
"I'm afraid to ask what your profile picture looks like."
Emma smiles. "I'll show it to you if you make an account."
"No way."
"Come on, you don't have to put your face up or anything. Just use it to search around a little, think about dating again. Baby steps." She's getting a dangerous look; the one she normally only gets when she's talking about party strategy. "Look, let me login, you can borrow my account and try it out." She elbows him out of the way and pulls his keyboard closer, quickly typing in the address.
"Emma," he grumbles, trying to get the keyboard back. She swats his hands away and takes over the mouse as well.
"See, you can limit the search to only Genoshans, or even people within a certain mile radius. There’re all kinds of filters too, like body type, interests, powers… gender," she adds, quirking an eyebrow slightly. "Maybe you can find someone on the electromagnetic spectrum."
"Is your screen name seriously 'Cold_as_Ice'?"
"Hey now, I may only have one schtick, but it works for me."
Erik sighs. "Why are you pushing this so hard?"
Emma tilts her head at him. "You know why, you've seen the same poll numbers I have. Our base is the most radical ward in Genosha, and even they're starting to wonder who they elected."
"I still have a ten-point lead on any hypothetical challengers."
"For now. But your hardline stance is squeezing out all the independents. Not because they disagree with your message, but because they're afraid you're not all there." She taps a finger to her forehead to illustrate.
"And joining a dating website it supposed to convince people of my sanity?"
"No," Emma says, speaking slowly like he's being exceptionally stupid. "Dating will, preferably seriously. It'll soften your image. You need to look more stable and settled, more of a family man and less like a crazy preacher waving your End is Nigh sign."
“Preacher?” he asks.
“You know what I mean. You’re the Nostradamus of Genosha, the sky is always falling, the UN is always on the verge of invasion, humanity is always conspiring against us.”
“Those are perfectly rational—they are conspiring against us! The only thing the Security Council as a whole can agree on is how much they hate mutants.”
“I know, dear,” Emma says, giving him a pitying look as she starts entering a new search. “All the more reason for you to find a pretty wife and start popping out the next generation of mutant soldiers to guard our vulnerable shores.”
______________
Emma leaves eventually, as she actually has work to do that doesn’t involve harassing Erik about his love life. He's determined to forget that the entire conversation had ever happened, but unfortunately the most pressing thing on his plate right now is an incredibly boring piece of legislation from his Teleportation Subcommittee. It’s actually a somewhat important bill since the current licensing laws are woefully inadequate, as demonstrated by a recent debacle in which an eleven-year-old teleporter in Ward Four had stranded his entire elementary class on the roof of a twenty-story building after his friends had dared him to move their school bus. Erik had actually helped introduce the bill after the Bilocational Alliance for Mutant Freedom had approached him. Not that this personal investment makes it any easier for him to get through the deadly dull model legislation they'd drafted. Erik’s tolerance for legalese has improved somewhat over the past two years, but he still has his limits.
He also seems to possess a surprisingly strong curiosity about the love notes Emma sends over mDate. After about twenty minutes and one careful check that Emma is otherwise occupied yelling at the interns, he reopens his browser window and starts shamelessly snooping in her inbox. As it turns out, most of her messages are of a shockingly pornographic nature, to the point where Erik finds himself blushing and wondering how closely the Assembly IT department monitors their internet traffic.
Out of self-preservation he starts browsing profiles instead, only to find that those aren’t particularly work-appropriate either. Not that there’s any real nudity—there must be some decency rules in place—but there’s certainly a lot of mutant flesh on display, and some surprisingly frank statements about how to see more of it.
Out of shock more than anything else he ends up clicking on one of the more provocative pictures, which, of course, is exactly the moment Emma decides to check in on him. She bustles into his office in her usual brazen fashion, making him jump in his seat as she cranes her neck to see his screen. He fumbles with the mouse, trying to close the window and failing utterly.
"I like her style." Emma says, leaning on his shoulder and looking approvingly at the woman's choice in underwear.
Erik backclicks and glares at her. "I thought the point of this was to help me find a politically appropriate wife, not cause a scandal?"
"I'm sure the scandal would only improve your ratings. And honestly, that's just an excuse. The real point is to get you laid so you're less tense around the office."
"I'm always tense."
"Well, I'd appreciate it if you had an S.O. to take it out on instead of me."
Erik sighs and tilts the monitor screen, turning it away from her view. Emma rolls her eyes, but leaves him alone again, going back out to yell at Darwin for not yelling at the interns about whatever stupid thing they messed up earlier.
Erik fully intends to go back to the draft legislation, truly, if only to annoy Emma by not obeying her every whim… but she’ll probably be arguing with Darwin for a long time, so really, a few more minutes of aimless searching won’t hurt… and he is curious, in spite of himself.
There are a surprising number of profiles, many more than he would have expected, and nearly all of them appear to be active. You’d think here in Genosha mutants wouldn’t have a problem meeting other mutants, but apparently pickiness is a trait they still share with their primitive human forbearers.
He goes back to the search page and pulls up a list of mutants who live in his ward, flipping idly through the result and skimming the profile pictures. Emma's search parameters from earlier are still on, and both men and women keep coming up in the results. He scrolls up to adjust the search again, mouse hovering over the gender checkboxes for a long minute. Well, it's not like he's serious about this, it can't hurt to look. He could use some more fantasy material, anyway. He checks the "men only" box with determination and refreshes the results.
The male photos are equally provocative, but most of them are more laughable than sexy. He dwells over a few of the ones with more extreme mutations, appreciating their unapologetic pride. He even recognizes a few faces, spotting some supporters he knows from rallies and campaign season. He cringes at the thought of them knowing that Deputy Lehnsherr was checking them out online. Talk about the perfect way to torpedo his serious and austere image.
One toward the bottom of the page jumps out at him, a boyish-looking man who somehow manages to be both pretty and interesting looking at the same time. Something about the face is familiar, but Erik can’t place him, clicking on the “info” button to see if any of the details there jog his memory. His username is "prof_x" and his occupation is listed as “academic,” which seems to fit with Erik’s vague recollections. Someone he met through the Subcommittee on Mutant Education and Special Abilities Training? Or someone he saw on that tour of Gen U last year?
He finds himself distracted by the man's “About Me” section, which is kind of stunning in its sheer ridiculous unsexiness. The guy is lucky he’s so attractive, as based on his profile his seduction techniques are in need of some serious work. In the Q&A section, under “I spend a lot of time thinking about,” he’d written “you, where have you been all my life?” Did that kind of line actually work for him? Maybe most people sent messages without actually reading these things. Or maybe there was a good reason “prof_x” was on mDate instead of having his pick of grad students at the university's dive bar.
"He's cute," Emma says, coming up behind him again and making Erik jump. He really needs to get some kind of privacy screen so she can't see his monitor from the door.
"I was—I thought I recognized him."
"Sure," Emma says, smiling in her deeply infuriating way. Erik tries to click the back button, but she bats the mouse out of his hand.
Emma leans over and starts to read, chortling to herself. "'I like taking walks at night, making new friends, and recreational meiosis'? Is that a sex joke?"
"I don't know, maybe? Also, 'I'm really good at… making Punnett squares and getting into your pants'? Is that supposed to be cute? Because it isn't."
"I don't know, I'm oddly charmed. It's so sad I sort of want to pity fuck him."
"Ugh, please don't."
"Oh, Erik, I would never dream of moving in on your territory."
Erik ignores her, scrolling back up to click on prof_x's 'details.' He frowns, skimming past the part about how he love animals, children, and alcohol. "His abilities are only listed as 'mental' and he didn't include his power level."
"Hm, well, lots of telepaths don't like to give details. Some people get weird about it, you know."
"I'd think it would be better to have all that out in the open."
"You would think that. Maybe he's weak and embarrassed about it. Oh, but more importantly, look what we have here," she says, tapping pointedly on the screen above the box that says 'bisexual.'
"You don't know him?" Erik asks, trying to deflect her attention.
"I don't know all of the telepaths in Genosha, Erik. Only most of them. He could be empathic too, you know. Or something random, like the ability to sense the favorite food of everyone he touches."
"Useful."
"For a chef. You could make a whole career out of that actually."
"Hm."
"You know, if you do want to date men, that would be okay."
"Thank you, Emma. I'm touched."
She hits his shoulder with the back of her hand in response. "I'm serious. It's 20-fucking-12 and this is Genosha. Come on, you’re so far into the closet that soon Darwin is going to start using you as a tie rack.
“I’m not in the closet, I just don’t talk about my personal life."
Emma rolls her eyes. “Okay, a) you don't have a personal life, and, b) same difference. Do you know a reporter once asked me off the record if you were on the DL?”
“The what?”
“You know, the down low.”
“Is that a—position?”
Emma sighs. “God, you’re so sheltered."
"Whatever. That is exactly why I don't want to talk about it; stupid questions from stupid reporters."
"You don't have to talk about anything, just, you know, find someone," she makes a little flourish toward the computer screen. "And then don't hide it."
"People are going to ask anyway and you know it. Especially since—it seems weird. You know, they'll want to know about Ma—my marriage. If that was denial, or a beard, or what."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, you don't have to answer them. Let them make assumptions, who cares! Like you have a hard time telling stupid reporters to shut up."
Erik shakes his head. "It's a distraction and I have more important things to be dealing with right now."
Emma takes a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair like she's contemplating pulling it out. "Look, Erik, I know your greatest passion is your zeal for mutant self-determination, but the occasional night off is not going to cause Genosha to slide into the ocean." Erik tries to protest at that but Emma cuts him off. "Furthermore, as your political advisor, I promise you, it is also not going to ruin your career to be gay. Not in Genosha."
"Genosha's still far from perfect," he points out. "We only passed full marriage equality three years ago."
"Oh, come on. That was only because we were so early legislating civil partnerships that gay marriage wasn't even on the table yet. I'm serious, it's not going to hurt your ratings to be out. Has it hurt Darwin's career? Or Mayor Richter's? If anything, it might make people like you more, make you seems a little more—" She turns her hand in the air, searching for a word.
"Feminine?"
"Soft," Emma says, dropping her hand. "Which is exactly what we want. It's about perception, remember, not reality. Stereotypes can work to our advantage."
Erik shakes his head, turning away. "That's not who my constituents voted for."
"No one is going to care so long as you continue to froth at the mouth and see human conspiracies around every corner. The Seventh is one of the most liberal wards in the whole country, for fuck's sake! You'll have mothers trying to set you up with their sons."
"Well, when you put it that way—how could I not want to?"
"Relax, I'll keep the yentas off your back. Besides, I think they'll like this one," she says, pointing back at the screen and prof_x's smiling face. "He's a doctor!"
"Oh, shut up." He looks away, tapping his fingers on the desk and looking for a way to change the subject. His eyes drift back to the monitor and he snorts. "Listen to this, 'you appreciate good food and good conversation, you're not afraid of arguing but never want a fight, you are loving even if you aren't always demonstrative'—Is this a dating profile or a horoscope?"
"Okay, that's enough, you've been staring at his page for twenty minutes now." Emma elbows him out of the way again and hits the 'message him' button, typing out a single line of text and hitting send while Erik struggles to get the keyboard back from her.
He pushes her aside and grabs the monitor so he can see what she wrote, slapping his palm to his forehead as he reads it:
Cold_as_Ice
You're lucky you're so cute, your profile is maybe the cheesiest one I've ever seen, which is saying something on mDate.
"What the—Emma, are you trying to piss him off?"
"I thought you didn't care either way? Besides, starting with insults is the best way to get to know someone. You'll see if he has a sense of humor or not." And with that pearl of dating advice, she winks at him and saunters off.
______________
Erik barely gets through two pages of the teleportation bill before it's time for the actual subcommittee meeting. He brings it along with him in hopes that he can catch up while the others are making their opening comments. He's not very successful, and his fellow committee members have a worrying amount of sticky notes flagging their own printouts. It looks like they're in for a very long session.
Emma sneaks into the conference room while Deputy McCoy is droning on about the differences between rural and urban teleportation. She slips Erik her phone with a solemn look like there's something vital on it he needs to see right away. Erik is confused at first, until he sees that she has the mDate application open and there's a message with prof_x's goofy face on it.
Ha! That is nearly word for word what my sister said when she read it too. You're pretty cute yourself, if you don't mind me saying. I like your bustier, very flattering. What's your stressful job? From your profile, it sounds like politics.
"Bustier?" Erik repeats, muttering it under his breath. The Chair glances at him from across the conference table and frowns. He gives her an apologetic smile and then tries to give Emma her phone back, but she walks away before he can hand it to her. He puts the phone down and tries not to think about silly academics with boyish good looks. Unfortunately, the subcommittee doesn't do much to distract him and he finds himself fiddling with the phone anyway, flipping it on and re-reading the message several times.
He gives up when Deputy McCoy brings up Section II, Paragraph f(1), the fifth such article he's had issue with. Erik leans back, trying to act like he's listening to McCoy as he hits the reply button and starts typing. Lots of the other deputies have their own phones or tablets out, most of them pretending like they're taking notes while actually checking their email. No one's going to notice that he's messaging someone on mDate instead of one of his staffers. Hopefully.
He starts five different ways before finally settling on opening with a causal, yet intimate sounding "hi there."
Hi there. Yes, I am indeed in politics, but I don't want to talk about my job. It's as boring as it is stressful. Extremely boring at the moment. I'm seriously considering gnawing off my own arm to escape this meeting.
He starts to add, 'I'd much rather be talking with you,' but then deletes it. The answer comes within minutes:
I probably shouldn't be distracting you then, but I'm having a pretty boring day myself. Being a scientist sounds really cool, but it also involves a lot of sitting around waiting for enzymes to process and DNA to finish sequencing. Not to mention all the grading. I got stuck with a survey class this semester and it is killing me. I love teaching and I honestly like most of my students, but their lab reports… oh, dear.
He looks up to find that McCoy is now describing his objections to Section II, Paragraph g(3). There are a over a dozen such clauses in Paragraph G alone. Erik grinds his teeth and decides that he's better off not listening too closely.
Well, I don't envy you there. At least most of my colleagues are past frat age. On the other hand, the only scum you have to deal with lives in a Petri dish.
There's another fast reply, this one coming before Erik can even pretend to start listening again:
Oh, that that were true… departmental politics can get pretty vicious. Some of our department meetings make Assembly Hill look like model UN.
Erik suppresses a slight smirk at that, glancing around the conference room to be sure he isn't missing anything vital before responding again. Time to see if he can't find out a little bit more about the 'professor':
Ha. By the way, you look vaguely familiar to me. Do you spend any time on Assembly Hill? I feel like I've seen you before.
This time the answer takes longer, not coming until Erik is safely back in his office recovering from the committee meeting over a drink with Emma. She keeps an emergency bottle of vodka in her desk, and it's amazing how many emergencies they have on a weekly basis. His pocket buzzes while Erik's searching in the mini-fridge for tonic water and he frowns, pulling out Emma's phone.
"Forgot I still had this," he says, handing it back to her.
She smirks, glancing down at the screen. "Actually, I think this one's for you."
He takes it back, trying to look disinterested, and reads the message on the screen:
Oh, no, politics isn't my bag, (no offense), but I did give evidence at a hearing last year and wound up on TV for my trouble. It's very embarrassing actually and I wasn't on my best behavior. I wish I'd never agreed to testify, honestly. I hope you won't judge me too harshly for it. I don't really want to go into the details now, but maybe I can tell you my side of the story some time in person.
Well, that's interesting. A hearing? What hearing? It must have been one where they had university faculty in to—wait. No, it couldn't be—
"Oh," Emma says, tilting the phone in his hand and looking over his shoulder. "Ooooh, now I remember. That guy with the limp. He testified at the human immigration hearing."
Yep, that was the one. Erik sneers. "On the side of 'human' rights."
"Oh, hold on, god—is he also the guy who you—wow. Small world. You really tore him a new one. Didn't he want to bring over some human scientist to do research in the Gen U labs?"
"Yes, some woman working on mutant genetics, if you believe it. The nerve, thinking he could get away with letting humans experiment on mutants right here in Genosha."
Emma rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. He wasn't actually trying to experiment on mutants. Not like that. That was just a lot of hyperbole on your part and you know it."
Erik glares over the rim of his glass in response. It's not generally an issue he's willing to cede ground on. Emma only laughs at him. "Really, Erik. He sounds like your type. You love people you can argue with."
Erik rolls his eyes at her. "I'm sure we'd have some very scintillating arguments, but no matter. It's over now."
"Why?" Emma asks, laughing like she's surprised at him now.
"You think some human-lover is going to want to date 'Lord Magnus'?" he asks, using the nickname the press corps gave him years ago. It's supposed to be an insult, appropriating one of his old pen names, but he secretly likes it. You wear a cape once for a gag photo and everyone acts like you've branded yourself crazy for life.
"Oh, whatever," Emma says. "You think he didn't recognize my face? Or other body parts?" she asks, gesturing downward. "I'm on TV all the time with you. And he asked if I was in politics right away. If he's happy chatting up Magneto's closest aid, I don't think he'll mind shtupping her boss instead."
"There will be no schtupping of any kind," he replies, correcting her goyish pronunciation.
"Um, is that a personal rule?" a familiar voice asks, coming from the doorway behind them. "Or a new staff one? Because I might have already broken it. Possibly in the copy room."
"I really don't want to hear about it, Muñoz," Erik says, not bothering to turn and look at his Communications Director.
"Twice?" Emma asks, squinting a little like she's picking up more than she'd like from Darwin's mind.
Darwin comes in looking sheepish with one hand raised in mock surrender. He tosses a report with a lot bar graphs down on Erik's desk.
"Seriously," Emma asks. "What's so sexy about the copiers? Do you have some kind of toner fetish?" She sounds more intrigued than disgusted now. Probably because she never makes her own copies.
"That's not even a thing," Darwin says, starting to retreat.
"Close the door," Erik tells him and hears Darwin mutter "gladly" before it shuts. "Okay, actual new rule, Darwin's boyfriend is now banned from the office."
"We can't do that, remember? He's Summers' brother. He picks the kid up at the end of each day."
"Fine, new new rule, the copy room gets locked at exactly 6 pm."
Emma sighs. "I'll send a memo around and have someone make up a sign."
"Thank you."
______________
Erik is not in a good mood the next morning. His subcommittee reconvenes to continue their unfinished and still irritating business from yesterday. He is about ready to start advocating the complete repeal of all teleportation laws if it will make this stupid bill go away. There is something downright un-Genoshan about it after all; they're essentially talking about limiting the natural exercise of a mutant's powers solely because they make other people uncomfortable.
He comes back to the office after they break for the day, having resolved precisely fuck-all. He's annoyed and looking for someone to abuse, which Emma picks up on immediately. She come out of her office to intercept him, handing over a bottle of water. "I could have you installed in a bloodless coup in less than a day," she says.
Erik considers the offer, uncapping the bottle and taking a sip. "Bloodless?"
"Or as bloody as you like. Do you have a list of names?"
"In my head. Can you give me an hour? It may take some time to type up."
Darwin clears his throat, coming out from the conference room and handing Erik a sandwich wrapped in plastic. “I really don't like it when you guys have conversations like this.”
“It’s because you know we’re not joking," Emma replies, and Darwin sighs.
“Sometimes I feel like I'm only one in this office who believes in parliamentary democracy.”
Erik unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite. Mmm, pastrami, his staff knows him so well. “That is exactly why I hired you, Muñoz," Erik says in between bites. "Your knowledge of Genoshan politics and your inexplicable faith in the system.”
"Thanks, that's, uh, nice? Can we talk about the quarterly communications report now? I want to revamp how we're collecting voter messages and phone calls, I'm still not happy with our response time."
Erik sighs. "So long as I'm allowed to eat while you talk."
"Be my guest," Darwin says, waving him into the conference room.
There are a lot of statistics involved, and Erik would be impressed if he wasn't so bored. It's not that he doesn't appreciate what Darwin does—someone has to take an bird's-eye view of their communications strategy—but he's much more interested in talking to people one-on-one than looking at aggregated data and poll numbers.
Darwin had been Emma's hire. She'd insisted they needed someone who was an expert at crisis management considering Erik's tendency to say whatever was on his mind whether it was politically expedient or not. Darwin was one of the best PR managers in the business, ever adaptable as his nickname implied. He was also very, very good at atomizing and analyzing situations. He had a deep and abiding love of elaborate graphs with garish color schemes. Probably because he hoped the loud colors would help keep his audience awake.
Erik tries to listen, he does, but he keeps zoning out, thinking about prof_x and wondering if Emma will leave off about the dating thing now that this first, tentative attempt was a failure.
Darwin isn't an idiot and he can tell Erik's not really paying attention. He gives up eventually, pausing his PowerPoint slides and asking, "Erik, is there something else you want to talk about?"
Erik frowns at him and sets his sandwich aside. "Do you agree with Emma? Do I need to soften my image?"
"Uh…" Darwin scratches the back of his neck and glances at the door like he's checking his escape route. "Look, I really don't want to get involved in whatever weird scheme Emma is concocting to get you laid. But… I don't think you need to change anything, Erik. You got elected because you're passionate and people like that. They like knowing that you'd fight for them, that you'll never stop fighting until mutants have achieved everything we want to achieve… but…"
"Yes?" Erik asks, waving his hand for him to continue.
"There's something to be said for home-life balance. Or, you know, having at least some semblance of a life outside of Assembly Hill. I worry you're going to burn out if you keep making everything a line in the sand that can't be crossed. Some days you have to pick and choose your battles. Compromise. That's just the way it is."
Erik huffs a little at that. "Did Emma coach you on that speech?"
"No, it came straight from the heart," Darwin says, patting his chest.
Erik sighs. Well, speaking of straight. "Do you agree with her that it—it doesn't really matter who so long as it's someone?"
"I don't think that's quite what she said, of course it matters who you—"
"You know what I'm asking."
"Hm, okay." Darwin shrugs. "Cards on the table, I think being out is important, you know that, especially for public figures." Erik has a lot of very strong feelings about this, but Darwin waves him off before he can interrupt. "I also think it's a very personal decision and no one has the right to know what's going on in your bedroom. But if you decided to do this… It's not going to destroy your career or anything. But Emma's wrong; it won't be a cake walk. It will change things. It gives people ammunition, power over you that they didn't have before, and it might hurt your standing with some of the older League members. But I also think…"
Darwin turns away from him, walking to the other end of the room to get himself a bottle of water. He leans back against the counter on the far wall, taking a sip and folding his arms as he studies Erik from across the room. "You've always struck me as a person who hates dishonesty of any kind, even lying by omission. It's one of the reasons I decided to work for you, and people respond to that Erik, they like it. Your base is not going to be upset because you decided to be completely honest with them about your personal life."
Erik nods, looking away. "I know that, but… this isn't what I signed up for." He picks up his sandwich and takes a gloomy bite, mulling it over.
"Well, tough, it comes with the territory. Do you want me to crunch some numbers on it?"
"Would you? I'd appreciate it."
"Sure. One other thing—do me a favor and don't send anyone a picture of your dick."
Erik inhale a piece of coleslaw at that, coughing several times before he dislodges it. "That's your only advice?"
"Pretty much. I just don't want to turn on Good Morning Hammer Bay and hear them cracking jokes about your enormous 'integrity,' okay? 'Single Assemblyman Joins Dating Website' is not actually a news story unless there are compromising photos involved. And I would be the one in charge of doing damage control for your dick, so…" He glances downward and shrugs.
Erik coughs one more time, finally clearing his throat. "Noted."
"Now can we talk about revising our email workflow?"
"Please."
Darwin smirks, clicking a button to bring up a multicolored chart on the projector that is actually quite beautiful, in a horrible kind of way. Erik tries to do him the courtesy of listening as he explains its various axes.
______________
When Erik escapes from Darwin an hour later, one of the interns comes up to him, stopping him before he can get into his office. "Uh, Deputy, I have the video of that hearing Emma said you were looking for. The investigation on Human Immigration to Genosha and the Use of Public Funds? Ms. Frost told me to let you know as soon as I found it."
Erik glowers, thinking about interfering advisors who are under the mistaken impression that he hired them for their matchmaking skills instead of their political expertise. The kid is holding the disk out very stiffly, like he's making a conscious effort not to fidget. It's the one who has to wear those huge red glasses to keep his plasma discharges in check, the Summers' kid. Darwin had hired him in a clear act of nepotism to further ingratiate himself with his boyfriend's family. The kid was irritatingly deferential and timid around Erik, leaping up every time he said jump and all but shouting, "How high, sir?" It annoys the crap out of him, even though normally Erik appreciated toadyism in his subordinates.
"Right, thanks," he says, taking the disk from the kid mainly so he'll get out of his way.
Summers nervously drops his hand, still blocking the hallway to Erik's office. "I edited out the dead air and bookmarked the parts where you speak or give questions. You can find them by skipping ahead on the chapters."
"Oh? Good work, thanks— Slim," Erik says, falling back on his nickname since he can't remember the kid's real one. Not Alex, that's the older brother—Erik has met him at enough staff happy hours to remember that much. The nickname seems to please Summers, who smiles, flushing red at Erik's praise.
Erik finally goes into his office and tosses the disk into his laptop. He skims through it, deciding that re-watching the video can only reinforce his decision to stop messaging with prof_x. The hearing had been a long one, and the mutant in question didn't appear for the first few days. Erik skipped ahead, looking for the point where the Genosha University witnesses started showing up, most of them defensive about their use of public funding to pay for human employees.
Erik pauses the tape when he finally spots "X" in the audience, looking much different from his mDate picture with his hair slicked back. He looks worried, but not exactly uncomfortable, his cozy-looking grey wool suit and the patches on his elbows suiting his academic persona. He has a cane over one arm and a slow unsteady gait to match as he picks his way carefully up to the witness table with the other academics. Erik remembers wondering about that at the time, speculating that the man's mutation might have some adverse physical manifestations.
Erik fast-forwards past the opening remarks to the point where prof_x starts giving evidence, looking calm as he swears his oath and looks up at the table full of deputies, including Erik himself on the far right.
Erik finally learns his real name as he introduces himself. "Dr. Charles Xavier, Chair of the Genosha University Department of Applied Genetics." Erik remembers being taken aback by how young he was, surprised someone his age would be the head of an entire department. He also remembers being struck by how attractive he was. Or maybe that's a false memory, his recent daydreams about "prof_x" clouding his thoughts.
Dr. Xavier begins by giving a short statement, a lot of pabulum about the importance of building bridges between the mutant and human academic communities, and about the University being an ambassador for Genosha to the rest of the world. The committee begins their questioning and Erik take an active role, his questions sounding rather more forceful than he remembers them being at the time.
"Isn't it true that you yourself have written a recommendation for a human researcher from the United States, one Moira McTaggert?"
"Yes, that's correct," Xavier replies, remaining calm despite Erik's badgering tone.
"And isn't it true that Dr. McTaggert once worked for the CIA?" He waits for the gasps and murmurs in the audience to die down before continuing, playing them masterfully while Xavier watches him with a cold expression. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you, Dr. Xavier, that only four years ago it was revealed that the American Central Intelligence Agency had illegally held and experimented on United States citizens solely because they were mutants."
"No, indeed, Deputy. I am well aware of the facts, in so far as the US government has publicly admitted to them. I'd add that it was a case nearly as horrific as your own experiences in Germany." Erik remembers being genuinely angry at that, the jab implying that he was acting irrationally and being paranoid because of his past. At the time he hadn't noticed the compassion in Xavier's tone and the way his eyes had softened as he looked up from the witness table. Maybe it wasn't the calculated attack that Erik had taken it for, but a genuine attempt to show that Xavier understood why he was so upset.
But Erik couldn't change how he had responded at the time, growing increasingly combative as Xavier tried to argue that McTaggert had nothing to do with those abuses and had left the CIA when they came to light. It got nearly embarrassing when Xavier tried reading from the woman's admittedly impressive resume, and Erik shouted him down with an impromptu speech that included the repeated use of the phrase "never again." It had won him several days of news coverage and the successful passage of a new law barring the use of public funds to support human workers. It was Erik's first legislative victory and his standout moment as a freshman deputy.
He pauses the disk as Xavier tries and fails to interrupt him once more, feeling embarrassed now instead of proud.
"Oh, don't stop, keep going," Emma says, appearing over his shoulder. "I love the bit where you imply he's no better than Dr. Shaw."
Erik tries to hide his cringe. "Do you think he'll remember me?"
"No, I'm sure he's completely forgotten how you insulted him at a nationally televised parliamentary hearing," Emma says, giving him a look that is both pitying and completely unsympathetic. "Cheer up, at least you made an impression."