Category: AU, Modern setting, Still have powers, Secret agents and spies, Humour
Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a much feared Quartermaster at MI6. Apparently someone forgot to tell their newest agent this.
♦ Fic-A-Week Project 2014 - Week 17
♦ Secret Agent Man Part 1
Notes: 007 AU/secret agent
Charles as the agent and Erik as the quartermaster assigned to him.
First meeting. Erik's all no-nonsense, German efficiency, and Charles is so British it hurts
Thanks to Smitty for letting me bounce typical British cliches off her *g*
Additional notes: Translation into Chinese: Secret Agent Man by Rachel_Er
Word count: 1,246
Erik tweaked the hydraulic control of his right arm - first with the small tweezers, then with the use of his power.
"That is so groovy," a voice said behind him, and Erik almost dropped his tool.
Only turning his head halfway, Erik bared his teeth. "I'm sure i hung the 'do not disturb' sign on the door."
"Yes, yes, I saw," the voice replied, implying that the sign obviously hadn't been for him.
Erik finally did the last of his adjustments, closed the prosthetic back up - using his power to weave the metal back together, before finally straightening and turning to face the intruder. He took in the appearance of the man in one glance.
Erik knew the signs. The inhibitor collar could mean anything, but combined with the gloves; either empath or telepath. And Erik tended to go for worst case scenario out of habit.
Flexing his artificial arm, Erik eyed him with distrust. Shorter than Erik, broad over the shoulders, trained, obviously, as the casual stance he had adopted only partly covered the subtle play of muscle under the better-than-average tailored suit. "The arm tends to put people off."
"Oh!" the man stepped forward, for the first time looking at Erik's arm. "I barely noticed - I meant the way your mind lights up when you use your gift."
Erik stared at him. Inhibitor collar and yet he'd... Erik pulled up every mental wall he could manage.
This earned him a crestfallen look. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, but mutant minds flare up in the most magnificent way when we use our gifts." He cocked his head to the side. "I'm Charles Xavier, I was told to report to you for anything regarding the assignment X0-616."
Erik noticed the twitch of his hand and realized that the man had possibly considered offering it in greeting, but Erik knew how most telepaths were met with animosity and distrust and people rarely let them touch - even with the gloves.
"Hm," Erik huffed, getting perverse thrill out of holding out his artificial hand in greeting. Although he rarely did this ungloved himself - because it unsettled people - which he tried not to do because it always ended in a pissing contest with the higher-ups. At least Agent X wouldn't get any readings from touching that.
He wasn't expecting the blinding smile this earned him and he felt rather unsettled at this. "Agent X, then," he replied gruffly, making sure to only exert the normal amount of pressure for a handshake when the man took the proffered hand. "I was told you'd be by later today."
"I went for tea," Agent X admitted, "but it was cut short as apparently, all there was, was some supermarket own-brand rubbish that might as well have been floor sweepings - or worse, American - if you can call that a choice," he carried on, making a face of disgust, "and you'd think a high standing British agency such as the MI6 would have more than adequate tea..."
Erik rolled his eyes and Agent X fell silent. "Next you'll be telling me that the weather is most dreadful, the tube was horrible, the traffic atrocious," Erik replied in his worst version of a British accent.
"You're having me on, aren't you?" Agent X asked with, what he probably thought, was an offended facial expression.
All it managed was make him look like a pouting teenager.
"It does not!" Agent X said outraged.
"Stop reading my mind if you don't like what you see in there," Erik bit back. God, this guy was getting on his nerves already.
"And if I do like it?" Agent X asked, his whole physical attitude changing in a heartbeat, taking Erik by surprise. "Have a cuppa with me when we're done here? You have the most incredibly dynamic mind, my friend - one I wouldn't mind getting better acquainted with."
Erik just raised an eyebrow. "Does that ever work for you?" he asked drily. He wasn't used to being hit on by the agents. Most of them found him creepy and scary and it wasn't an image Erik had ever tried to change. To tell the truth, he quite liked it that way. It meant no one bothered him unnecessarily.
"I don't drink tea, Agent X," Erik said, more or less dismissing him. He had a job, he carried it out, went home at night and the next day would be the same. That was all he needed.
"I think we can find a place that serves coffee as well," Agent X carried on.
Erik sighed deeply. He didn't need this, didn't need to ...make friends like this. Especially not with agents. His own staff among the scientists were tolerable - but agents came and went, some disappeared, some died, and all of them carried secrets like a shield.
"I play chess too," Agent X added, a hopeful look in his blue eyes.
Erik flexed the fingers of his artificial hand.
"And no, I do not consider you a repulsive monster," Agent X added, a little sourly.
Erik put his hands on his hips, knowing full well that he was towering menacingly over the other man. "What did I just tell you about reading my mind? And is that collar just for show?"
Agent X touched his finger to his lips and winked... winked at Erik. "It's not for show - it just... isn't quite enough to put a lid on my abilities." 'I could tell you more - show you more, if you'll let me.'
Erik tried not to show his surprise at the voice inside his head. The MI6 loved their secrets, and Erik was pretty sure that they were not aware of a telepath in their midst on whom the suppression collar didn't work. He was pretty sure they would find this rather troubling.
Of course it only served to whet Erik's interest. Not that he'd show it, of course.
"Black, no sugar - and I consider it hard to find a sufficiently skilled opponent for chess," Erik said, turning back to his work table, pulling out the items he was expected to hand over to Agent X. "I will not sit through a game with an inferior opponent."
"There's a lovely, little place around the corner that serves fair tea, their coffee is, according to my colleagues, more than palatable, and they do have chess among their board games - a game I am more than adequate at." The whole thing was delivered with... well, a pur, really. Deep and inviting in ways that Erik wasn't quite used to.
Erik hid a huff of laughter. "I also am not that easy, Agent."
Agent X joined him at the work table, shooting him an amused look. "I never said you were," he admitted. "I like the thrill of the chase."
"Do you now?" Erik replied evenly, opening one of the small boxes he'd prepared. "And maybe I like turning the tables - I'm no one's prey," he warned.
"Even better," Agent X said quietly, meeting Erik's gaze - intent drawing Erik in. "I can tell you're a prime apex predator, Quartermaster." He put his hand on Erik's metal one. "It only heightens the appeal."
"Let's get you kitted out, if you manage to survive your mission, you can take me out for coffee and chess," Erik told him, not even trying to fight the toothy grin.
"Deal, my friend," Agent X replied, looking suspiciously like the cat that had got the cream.