Student/Teacher Relations 8/?
“Well, gentleman,” McCone says, closing his laptop with a snap. “That’s another semester in the bag.”
He pauses significantly, as if waiting for applause. The TAs glance nervously around the room.
After a few seconds of terrible silence, Azazel raises his hands, giving one loud clap.
“No, no,” McCone says jovially, holding his hands up. “No need for applause. Just doing my job.”
Charles valiantly resists rolling his eyes as he closes his own computer down.
Grades have been handed in and logged for the term (none of his students had failed-thank goodness for small mercies), and this is his last meeting of the term with McCone.
He has never been so relieved to see a semester end.
The TAs rise from around the conference table, awkwardly packing bags and avoiding eye contact lest someone suggest they all go out for a drink. Not that Charles would mind spending some time with his fellow TAs. But ‘all’ would inevitably include McCone, and even ass-kissers like Azazel didn’t seem to want to socialize with the man.
“Have good holiday, sir,” the Russian says gruffly, nodding at the Professor.
“You, too, son,” McCone returns, but the smile on his face is not entirely sincere. Charles watches, interested. He wonders if Azazel’s red skin and teleportation outweighs the use that McCone can make of the man.
He wishes that the older generation didn’t still harbor such suspicion towards his kind. Mutants were becoming more and more common as each successive generation came along, but the old order was still resistant to acknowledging them and their rights.
McCone will probably never be fully comfortable working with mutants. His loss, Charles thinks bitterly.
The TAs file slowly out of the room, bundling their coats around them against the harsh winter air awaiting them outside.
“Xavier, a minute?” McCone calls as Charles trails after them, his thoughts full of his warm apartment and a pot of tea.
“Yes, sir?” he questions warily.
“Have a seat,” McCone gestures to the seat across from him. He’s still smiling, but Charles doesn’t trust it. He hesitantly drops into the chair, settling his bag at his feet. He very pointedly doesn’t take off his coat-McCone only said a ‘minute’ after all.
“From what I’ve heard,” McCone begins, steepling his fingers in front of him. “You haven’t had any contact with that boy. Lehnsherr.”
Charles forces himself not to blanch at the words. From what he’s heard? He wonders just how much McCone has been checking up on him. “No, sir. Not since you transferred him out of my seminar group.”
“So no more ‘babysitting’?” The word drips with innuendo.
“No. Erik’s had to make do without my help with Lorna.”
“Lorna?”
“His daughter,” Charles snaps. “The child I was babysitting for.”
“Ah,” McCone frowns slightly.
“I’m sure his status as a parent is somewhere on his student record,” Charles says pointedly. If the school insists on recording Erik’s mutant abilities, they must have noted that he has a dependent. “If you don’t believe me.”
“No one said they didn’t believe you, Xavier.”
Charles bites his lip to keep from making a face. McCone may never have said it…
“I’m sure you’ve received your teaching assignment for next term by now,” McCone switches gears.
“Yes, sir.” He had gotten the email the week before.
“It’s not that I didn’t want you on any of my courses, you understand.”
“No, of course not,” Charles agrees, although he knows perfectly well that McCone influenced his placement-he’s taught Intro to Biology for three terms now, and yet it was mysteriously absent from his teaching for the Spring semester. He holds back a smirk-McCone probably thinks he’s punishing Charles, but he’s never been so happy with his teaching assignments. He’s been given two good courses, and McCone won’t be breathing down his neck all term. It couldn’t have turned out better, as far as he’s concerned.
“It’s really just a quirk of the system,” McCone continues on blithely, caught up in his own explanation. “People put in for teaching, people put in for teaching assistants…who knows how it will turn out?”
“It’s fine, sir.” Charles was well aware of how the system worked…he knew McCone had specifically requested not to have him teach on his course. But Charles didn’t care.
McCone looks at him sharply. “Of course it is.” He leans forward slightly. “I just wanted to have this chat and let you know that I was proud of you for resisting temptation. That’s the kind of will power you need to have in all your future teaching.”
“There was no temptation to risk, sir,” Charles says firmly, his jaw clenching. “I saw far more of Lorna than I ever did of Erik. And I did miss her all of last term. She is a very sweet child, and I enjoyed looking after her. As far as Erik is concerned, his final grade makes it clear that he got on fine without my assistance.”
“Yes, well,” McCone frowns.
“I hope your new TAs for Intro to Biology work out well for you next term, sir,” Charles says, standing.
McCone’s frown deepens and Charles feels something like smug satisfaction curling deep in his gut. “Oh. Thank you,” the man falters.
“I’m sure I’ll see you around the department,” Charles offers, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door.
“Make sure to watch yourself, Xavier,” McCone calls after him. “You wouldn’t want to get in trouble again.”
Charles pauses at the door, feeling bold. “I never did anything to warrant the trouble you gave me, sir,” he says firmly. “But I’ll be sure I never do anything that can be used against me again.”
McCone looks like he wants to say something more, but Charles is already out of the door.
Talking back to his superior might not have been the best idea, but it sure felt good. And he comforts himself with the fact that he hadn’t said anything that could really get him into trouble-he hadn’t said anything that wasn’t the truth.
He shoulders his bag and heads out of the building, his thoughts churning with McCone’s continued accusations. He had barely glimpsed Erik during the final exam-the boy finished in record time, just like the midterm, handing his paper in to Azazel without ever even glancing at Charles. Charles had tried to keep his eyes on the rest of the students, but if he was honest with himself, he would admit that his gaze kept straying to Erik, hunched over his exam paper, trying to decide whether he looked tired or stressed or unhappy. Charles thought he looked good, though. Really good. I suppose he didn’t really need me, Charles thought morosely, watching Erik’s pen fly over the exam paper.
That was the extent of his interaction with the boy, except for surreptitiously checking his final grade when they went over the evaluation of the second markers that afternoon. Erik had come away with an impressive 92% in the class.
It was a shame he wasn’t a biology major.
Still, the sight of that number filled Charles with sense of pride. He just knew that if the boy got a 92 in his class, he must have done even better in his engineering classes, the ones he was really passionate about it.
Charles wants to be the one to tell him about his final grade, wants to celebrate Erik’s achievements with him. He’s proud of all his students that did well, but he knows the satisfaction he feels at Erik’s achievement is something more.
Charles turns away from his own road, suddenly feeling restless. Term is over. Erik is no longer his student. He could contact the boy-he could tell Erik directly how proud he is of him. He could ask how he’s doing with Lorna, how the rest of the semester went for him. He could offer to help again, in the new term.
He could get to know Erik outside of class and babysitting. He could find out what the boy likes besides engineering and his adorable daughter. He could ask Erik out for a cup of coffee.
He frowns, hunching further into the upturned collar of his coat, shielding himself against the winter wind.
McCone would find out, he’s sure of it. Or, if not McCone, Azazel. Or one of his students. Someone would notice that Charles was being friendly with Erik-or more than friendly-and would assume that every rumor about him had been true.
The smug look on McCone’s face had been insufferable, even knowing that he was innocent of the charges the professor laid against him.
Could he handle the look McCone and others would give him if he was seen with Erik outside of school? Even if he was jut looking after Lorna?
Charles frowns and ducks into the café on campus, sighing at the warmth that greets him as soon as he’s through the door.
He doesn’t know what to do. He feels like if he so much as talks to Erik again, everyone will assume the worst. He’s always been a ‘good guy’-he was a good kid, the kind who never got into trouble or made things difficult for his parents. Not that they ever noticed or appreciated it. He went to university early, and never missed a class, or turned in an assignment late. He got perfect grades, and got into his top-choice graduate school. He’s on track to finish his PhD on time, he’s a good teacher, he still never misses a deadline. He’s never been the cause of trouble or gossip before.
Which makes it that much harder, he thinks as he mumbles his order of a large Earl Grey to the barista, knowing that people no longer think he’s a ‘good guy.’
He slumps down at a table in the corner of the café, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. It’s been a long semester, he thinks wearily. At times it felt like it would never end, but now that it’s over, he’s not sure what to do.
Keep being the quiet, unassuming good guy that everyone expects him to be? Keep his head down, finish his dissertation and hope he can avoid any further trouble?
Or pick up the phone and call Erik, like he’s been dying to do for weeks?
“Here you go.” Charles is startled out of his thoughts by a mug plunked down in front of him, milky hot liquid sloshing over the rim. He looks up, surprised, into the familiar face of the blonde barista. “One large earl grey, extra milk,” her lips quirk up into a grin. Charles gets the feeling she’s laughing at him. As usual.
“Uh, thank you.” He slides mug nearer, expecting the girl to turn and walk away. Instead, she tips her head to the side, regarding him with interest.
“So, where’s your cute young date?” She asks.
“What?” Charles stammers, floored. Have the rumors spread even here?
“About yay high?” the girl says, holding her hand up above the table. “Red hair? Cute as a button?”
Red hair? Charles thinks, bewildered. “Oh!” he says after a second. “You mean Lorna.”
“That the baby’s name?”
The girl smiles at Charles’ nod, but then frowns. “Is she okay?”
Charles attempts a reassuring smile, trying to wipe away the sadness that had surely shown on his face. “She’s fine. Or, I think she is. I just haven’t seen her in awhile.”
“Ohh,” the girl gives him a knowing look. “You have a fight with her dad?”
Charles glances up sharply, wondering if the girl is implying something about his relationship with Erik.
“Not exactly…”
The girl glances around the café, taking note of the multitude of empty tables, and then drops unceremoniously into the seat across from him. “I’m Raven,” she says. “Now, tell me all your troubles.”
“What?” Charles chuckles nervously.
The girl props her head in her hands, looking up at him with big blue eyes. “Come on. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” She gives a little laugh. “And that I’m nosy. So spill!”
“There’s really nothing…”
She interrupts him with a derisive snort. “Please. Your face says it’s something. Just think of me like a daytime bartender. Tell me all your problems over a drink.” She gestures to the tea in front of him.
Despite the fact that she’s spent more time mocking him than actually talking to him over the course of the last few months, Charles surrenders to the earnest look on her face.
“I’m a TA at the university,” he explains. “And Erik-that’s Lorna’s father-was a student in my class. When I found out about Lorna, I offered to help him look after her.”
“I remember,” Raven says with a smirk. Charles gives her a sharp look. “Sorry, sorry,” she holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Go on.”
“Some people saw me with Erik outside of class and…misinterpreted it.”
“They thought you were banging,” Raven says bluntly.
Charles rolls his eyes. “Yes.”
“But you weren’t?”
“No!”
“Really? I would have,” she says with a wicked grin.
Charles narrows his eyes. “Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Okay, okay. So, what happened?”
“I almost got fired. Erik got transferred out of my class, and I was banned from seeing him ever again.”
“Shit,” Raven whistles.
“Yeah.”
“But…” she gives him a considering look. “You do like Erik.”
“What?”
“You may not have been sleeping with him, but you like him, don’t you?”
Charles shifts uncomfortably under Raven’s penetrating gaze. He’s the telepath here, but it seems like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. Is he that obvious about his interest in Erik?
“Well…” he hedges.
“Look, it’s okay,” she leans forward earnestly. “From what I remember, he was a fine piece of ass.”
“Hey!”
Raven grins widely. “Just saying what we’re both thinking.”
“I was not thinking that,” Charles counters primly.
“Sure, whatever you say, Professor.”
“It’s Charles. Charles Xavier.”
“Okay. Professor X, then,” she grins. “So, you’re hot for Erik but you aren’t allowed to see him because he’s your student.”
“I’m not-” Charles begins uselessly. He shakes his head. “He’s not my student anymore,” he says with a shrug. “Term ended.”
“So, you’re allowed to talk to him again? Then what’s the problem?”
“If I were interested in seeing Erik socially…” Charles begins.
“Oh please,” Raven snorts.
“If I were to be seen with him, “Charles continues blithely, “It would get back to the department. And it would be as good as proving McCone and his cronies right.”
“But they weren’t right. You weren’t sleeping with Erik while he was your student.”
“Yeah, but they’d never believe that if they saw us together now.”
“So?” Raven frowns. “Who gives a fuck what they think? Sorry, Professor,” she says at Charles’ shocked expression. “But I really don’t see what business it is of anyone at the university. If you’re not breaking any rules, they can just mind their own fucking business.”
“But think how it would look,” Charles says uncertainly.
Raven scoffs. “You shouldn’t worry about how things look. Appearance isn’t everything,” she leans closer and winks, her blue eyes shuttering to a deep gold and then back again.
“Oh! You’re-“
“A mutant? Yeah, and I don’t care who knows it.”
“ Oh, don’t think I’m judging you,” Charles says quickly. “I’m like you.” He sends a quick pulse against her mind-the mental equivalent of tapping her on the shoulder.
She smiles. “Cool. I knew you wouldn’t care. I saw your hot friend do his little trick with the spoons.”
“Ah,” Charles smiles at the memory.
“People are always going to try and keep us down and tell us what to do,” Raven says seriously, and Charles is suddenly sure she’s not just talking about his situation with Erik. “We can’t let them. You’ve got to live your life the way you want, despite what people say.”
The bell above the café door lets out a tinkling chime as a customer walks in.
“Duty calls,” Raven says, standing. She leans closer. “Think about what I said, Prof. If you don’t ask that boy out, I just might. He’s one of the hottest people to ever come in this place.”
Charles gives an incredulous laugh.
“Don’t be a stranger, now,” Raven says, patting him genially on the shoulder. “Our kind has got to stick together.” She trails off across the room, making her way back to the counter to take the customer’s order.
Charles sips at his tea, watching her work and thinking about what she’s said.
Is he being a coward if he worries about what McCone and the other PhD students will think if he’s seen with Erik? He thinks Raven might be right-he shouldn’t let other people dictate his life and his decisions, especially if they’re bigoted assholes.
Raven looks so confident, interacting with her customer, laughing as she makes him a coffee. She doesn’t look like she cares what people think about her at all.
But then again…she looks totally normal. Charles frowns, wondering if the golden eyes she had flashed at her were her true eye color. If so, didn’t that mean she was hiding, just like the rest of them? Nervous about what people would say?
He finishes his tea and stands, giving her a little nod as he leaves the café.
He stuffs his hands deep in his pockets, hunching down into his coat against the cold. He wants to follow Raven’s advice-wants to think his reputation in the department doesn’t matter.
But he’s still so unsure.
He lets himself into his apartment, stamping his feet to get some warmth back into them, and shrugs off his jacket.
The ringing of his cell phone drags him out of his thoughts.
“Hello?”
“I just turned in my last grades!” Moira crows triumphantly. “Another semester over, and I didn’t kill any of my students!”
“A job well done,” Charles chuckles, sinking down onto his couch.
“Damn straight,” Moira agrees. “They’re annoying. I don’t know why anyone would think you were sleeping with one of them.”
“Moira,” Charles sighs.
“Seriously, it’s ridiculous. Thank god term is over and that’s all behind you. Have you finished up with McCone?”
“Yeah, just today. He got in a parting shot, though. Made it clear he still doesn’t believe I wasn’t fooling around with Erik.”
Moira snorts down the phone line. “What a bastard. I don’t know how anyone could believe you were involved with the kid, anyway. He’s straight! It’s not like he was desperate enough for a good grades to go gay.”
“Well…” Charles hedges, casting his mind back over every encounter he had with Erik. He had begun to think that his interest wasn’t entirely one-sided. Maybe. “Just because he has a child doesn’t necessarily mean he’s straight,” he says, for Moira’s sake as well as his own. “I mean, he was just a child when his girlfriend got pregnant.”
Erik had only been sixteen when he found out he was going to be a father, after all. Charles had dated girls at sixteen, and even later, before finally realizing that while he loved and respected women, he didn’t want to sleep with them.
“Oh, I don’t mean the baby, although that’s a pretty good sign,” Moira laughs. “I mean the girlfriend he has now.”
Charles straightens, gripping the phone a little tighter. “What?”
“Yeah, I saw them out the other day.” He can practically hear Moira rolling her eyes. “They’re an unfairly good-looking couple.”
“Really?” Charles says weakly.
“Yeah. She’s one of the few people on campus I’ve seen who could match Erik for looks,” Moira laughs. “Tall, thin, huge breasts, perfect blonde hair. She can’t be more than eighteen, but I’m pretty sure I hate her.”
Charles remembers the first time he saw Erik outside of class-he was talking to a blonde girl, trying to get her to her to babysit for Lorna. The girl had blown him off, but she had certainly been beautiful. Dressed all in form-fitting white, every inch of her immaculately groomed.
Was that Erik’s type? Charles is surprised-he wouldn’t have thought Erik would go for a girl like that. High maintenance, and clearly not interested in children.
But she was gorgeous.
“They were out on a date?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound quite as pathetic as he feels.
“Yeah, I saw them having dinner. At that nice Italian place? I was with my parents, or I never would have been in there. They seemed like they were having a great time-laughing and flirting, you know the deal.”
“Yeah, sure,” Charles agrees faintly.
“Anyway, anyone could see that boy isn’t into men. It’s just ludicrous that they tried to insinuate otherwise. At least you’re well done with the situation.”
“Yeah, thank goodness,” Charles agrees. “No more McCone for me.”
“And cheers to that! We should get drinks to celebrate.”
“Sure. But…not tonight. I’m kind of beat.”
“Okay. Tomorrow, maybe?” Moira suggests.
“Sure. I should go. Talk to you later, Moira,” Charles hangs up the phone, the image of the pretty blonde from the café burned into his mind.
Emma, he thinks Erik had said.
Erik and Emma.
It was cute, he tells himself. They would probably look great together.
He drops his phone on the coffee table with a thunk. He had been ready to give Erik a call when he left the café, to disregard his professional reputation in order to see the boy again.
But was he ready to make that sacrifice just to make a new friend?
He didn’t want to think that he only cared about Erik if he was interested in dating him, but the idea of reaching out to him, and drawing the censure of the whole department, just to sit around and watch Erik be happy with Emma was a little…off-putting.
Could he do it? Charles wondered. Could he offer to watch Lorna again, if it meant babysitting while Erik went out on a date?
Handsome, intelligent, interesting Erik, dressed up in one of his slim-fitting turtlenecks, smelling fresh and boyish, handing Lorna off so that he could go out with a beautiful blonde woman.
Charles drops his head into his hands. He doesn’t want to believe he’s only interested in Erik romantically-sexually. It’s too close to proving McCone right. But the idea of sitting around, watching him go out with other people, is a bit hard to take.
Especially now that he’s admitted that he finds Erik attractive.
If even Raven could see it, he must be fairly obvious.
He isn’t sure he’s a good enough man to sacrifice his reputation just to be friends with Erik.
And yet, he misses the boy. And he misses Lorna. It’s been weeks since he’s seen her. He knows what toddlers are like-she’s growing and changing everyday. She must be doing so much more now than when he last saw her. New words, new ideas-everything changed so rapidly with children that age.
And he’s genuinely sad that he’s not there to see it. She’s such a sweet child, and he misses spending time with her. But would he be willing to watch her while Erik went out on a date?
Charles groans at the idea, jealousy knotting in his stomach. He wants to call Erik, to congratulate him on his final grade and suggest they get together over the holidays, but now he can’t bring himself to do it.
Not with disappointment curling sharply in the pit of his stomach.
He had told himself he just wanted to check in with Erik, to make sure he was okay, and maybe get to know him a little better. And if that led to something more…well, then it was meant to be.
But now, knowing that “something more” wasn’t an option, he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone.
_______________________________________________________________________
The holidays passed slowly, lingering weeks of stinging cold air and hot mugs of tea, consumed alone in his apartment.
Moira flew off to her family in the Midwest for a big, chaotic jovial holiday season. Charles looks at the photos on facebook morosely, seeing the decorated homes and the smiles plastered on everyone’s faces. Moira grins out from the middle of her big family, her cheeks flushed with happiness.
He makes another cup of tea, turning up the music piping out of his laptop to cover the silence of his empty home. It’s Bach, not Christmas carols.
He thinks about Erik a lot during the holiday weeks, Erik who must feel just as alone as he does. He knows the boy doesn’t speak to his parents, doesn’t see Lorna’s mother.
Is he all alone as well, with no one but his toddler daughter to help him celebrate the season?
The thought makes Charles want to call more than ever, but surely asking him to spend the holidays together would be too much.
They barely knew each other, after all. Just a few minutes spent together here and there, as Erik came and went to class. The time they spent together in class certainly didn’t count. Charles wasn’t pondering asking Alex Summers over for Christmas dinner, or New Year’s Eve, after all. He wouldn’t want Kitty Pryde showing up on his doorstep with a bottle of champagne and silly hats.
But as he watches the ball begin its slow descent into the New Year, he wishes he had given into the impulse to call Erik.
They could be in the boy’s flat right now, Lorna tucked away in her crib hours before, shushing each other from laughing too loudly, lest they wake her.
But that’s probably what Erik is doing, Charles thinks with a frown. But instead of his former TA, it’s his girlfriend at his side, pouring him another glass of cheap sparkling wine as they snuggle closer in the tiny bedroom of his apartment.
He sighs, setting down his own glass of bubbly. He’s not in the mood. He switches off the TV just as the crowd erupts in shouts of ‘Happy New Year’ and goes to bed.
______________________________________________________________________
Moira’s return is a relief. The holidays always remind Charles of what he doesn’t have in his life, and he’s happy to start the new semester and forget all about holiday cheer.
He had gone in to school nearly every day of the Christmas holidays, haunting the empty labs and corridors. But even the university had closed from the 24th to the 2nd, and so on the 3rd Charles settles back into his office with relief, opening up his laptop to start computing some data from his experiments. The next day brings the start of classes and then he’ll be swamped with seminar preparation, office hours, and needy students once again. Which is why his best work is done always done over breaks.
Or that’s what he tells himself.
It has nothing to do with the quiet loneliness of his apartment, or the memory of a mother who was distant even when she was in the same room.
Charles is hunched over his laptop, going over the results of some of his lab cultures when someone knocks on the door.
“Come on in, Moira,” he calls, knowing no one else would be in school on the last day of the holidays. He hopes she’s had the forethought to bring him some tea.
“Sorry to disappoint,” a deep voice replies as the door swings open. “But I’m afraid it’s just us.”
Charles’ head snaps up, and there, framed in his office doorway, is Erik, with Lorna cradled in his arms.
“Hi!” Lorna says brightly.
She’s bigger, Charles notes, staring dumbly at the two of them. When he first met her in September, she looked like a baby, but now she looks like a child, like a real little person.
And Erik…Erik looks just as good as he remembered.
“Hi,” he says weakly. “What are you doing here?”
A flicker of hesitation passes over Erik’s face, but then he steps further into the room, giving Charles one of his wry smiles.
“We wanted to come and say hello.” He stands Lorna up on the seat of the only other chair in Charles’ tiny office, balancing her tiny form with one large hand. “Lorna asked for you a lot back in December, so I thought now that the new semester is starting, it would be okay to come and see you.”
“She asked for me?” Charles asks, surprised.
Erik gives him a wider smile, a real grin. “Yeah. She wanted to know where ‘Char’ had gone.”
“Char!” Lorna repeats gamely, smiling.
Charles can’t help the grin that spreads over his own face, or the warmth that bubbles up in his chest. “I missed you, too, Lorna,” he tells her, standing to walk around his desk and over to the child’s side. She tips her head back to smile up at him.
Erik stands close beside her, one hand pressed protectively on her small back. This close, Charles imagines he can feel the heat radiating off of Erik’s body; he wants to lean closer, to tuck himself against the boy’s side. Instead, he takes a discreet step away, shifting to put more space between them.
Displeasure flickers across his consciousness and then is gone. Charles glances up, surprised, but Erik’s face is impassive.
He reminds himself that Erik has a girlfriend and a child.
“I’m glad you came,” he tells the boy, anyway. “I really did miss Lorna.” And you too, he can’t bring himself to say.
“Maybe,” Erik’s gaze shifts away from Charles’ face. “Maybe now that I’m not in your class anymore, you could come over again? And spend some time with Lorna.”
“Oh.” Charles supposes he shouldn’t be disappointed. Of course Erik is here to ask if he’d be willing to babysit again. He knew the boy needed the extra help, and the money saved from not paying Charles.
And he does miss spending time with Lorna.
“Of course,” he says. “I’d be happy to sit for Lorna again. What’s your class schedule this term? We can see what periods I’m available.”
A small frown creases Erik’s handsome brow, but he responds, “Oh, that would be…great. Why don’t I just email you my schedule?”
“Perfect,” Charles agrees. He’ll still get to see Erik coming and going from class, he reminds himself. It’s better than not seeing him at all.
And he won’t have to worry about Erik’s struggles with balancing Lorna and his studies.
He only ever wanted to help, after all.
_____________________________________________________________________