By popular demand, we go inside the House o' Evil....

[x-pyromaniac.livejournal.com]

Erik awaits John's arrival at his desk. He summoned him a few moments ago and expects him to arrive, breathless and nervous, within the next few moments. If he does not, Erik's ire may well grow and John may receive more than the mild lecture he currently has planned.

John's trying to swagger. He really is. But it's not quite working of course, because Magneto has killed people and John's still getting used to that. One hand's in his pocket, clutching at his lighter for security, and now he stops in front of the desk, wetting his lips before he speaks, hoping his voice doesn't squeak. "Uh. You wanted to see me?"

Erik smiles. Somehow, he's no less intimidating, no more grandfatherly, when he smiles. "I did, indeed." He swivels his chair toward John, clearly not caring that height is supposed to put John at an advantage. "Your reaction to the Wolverine was...unimpressive, dear boy."

"Well, I guess I could have burned him, but he'd just heal." John is in a cold sweat, and trying to play it as tough as possible. He knows Magneto can see through him, and he knows that Magneto knows that he knows. But he has to do it, for appearance's sake. "What was I supposed to do, ignore him?"

"It would have been less damning, child, if you had." Erik smiles coldly. "He knows, now, that it bothers you. He knows which button to push to make you squirm and so does everyone who was present, save Stanley, because of your inability to control your reactions."

"Logan isn't a fool. He knew before I left how this fucking little soap opera was playing out. And he still - he, he-" John can't force himself to say it out loud, and his fingers clench and unclench while he regains his self-control. "But I'll do better in future, sir," he says woodenly, staring ahead.

"Thank you, John. I appreciate that." Erik's smile is warmer now. He's won. He's asserted himself and reminded John of his place in their little hierarchy. "How is young Stanley settling in?"

John shrugs, and pushes the resentment to the back of his head. "He seems fine. Doesn't come out of his room much, and spends most of it glued to the Playstation. I think he's somewhat awed by the, uh, fact you have more money than God."

Erik waves a hand dismissively. "Mystique is quite wealthy. It is...useful. Perhaps Stanley will also make himself useful." The unspoken implication, of course, is that John, too, will need to make himself useful.

"I s'pose he will." John tries not to feel like a five year old that's just been spanked, and nods deferentially, making his way towards the door.