Chapter 7: The Xavier Mansion

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Westchester County, New York      

         "This is yours?" Banshee asked Charles as they all stared up at the huge mansion before them. There stood the Xavier Mansion in all its age and beauty: the very home that Charles and Raven had grown up together in. Kat knew there were more stories behind those walls that Raven wouldn't dare tell her about, the things they saw and endured within its grand walls only left behind in history, not memory. Charles didn't look too pleased to see it himself, squinting though the sun was setting across the open land.

        "No," Charles answered simply from where he stood in the front of their group. "It's ours." 

        Everyone stood staring up at the towering mansion. The grounds around them were still taken care of, for the most part, the look of it making the mansion stand out, a marvelous work of art among the greenery.  

        "Honestly, Charles," Erik said, "I don't know how you survived, living in such hardship." His words were sarcastic, of course, and Kat understood why. She only wished she might only know exactly what hardship had really been placed in Charles's childhood. 

        "Well, it was a hardship softened by me." Raven stepped forward, pushing past Erik to join her brother at his side. Charles then promptly wrapped his arm around her waist and turned to press a kiss to her head. Raven sighed, looking back up to the mansion with a tired look. 

        "Come on," she said. "Time for the tour."  


        As it was, there wasn't enough time in the day for a tour of the entire mansion. They were, however, shown around and introduced to the most notable and useful places: the kitchens, living rooms, library, and the study on the first floor. Additionally, they were all given the choice of what room they each decided to sleep in, each connected with its own personal bathroom. By the end of the day Charles, Erik, and Moira had settled themselves on the third floor while the rest of them chose to stay below on the second floor. Hank, of course, stayed in a separate room near the main lab, for Charles had given him permission to use it as he saw fit for their cause.  

        When everyone was dismissed to bed after exploring the filled pantries (and being told not to open the doors to the wine cellar), Raven took the time to give Kat the clothes she needed to last her a while, since it was unlikely they would be leaving the estate any time soon until the time came to face Shaw again. Kat could only thank her twice over, grateful for the kindness Raven continued to show her. 

        "That's what friends do," Raven had said.

         Surely they were all friends to some extent by now, but Raven had offered her help before the arrangements had been made for them to stay, to work hard and make things right. And Kat never had just a friend before. Now the two of them were the only women left from their group. Well, the only two mutant women; Moira's presence only remained as leverage with the CIA and from her own personal volunteer. Kat had also come to understand that Charles was rather fond of Moira, to which Raven kept insisting in whispers over their separate choices of dinner, "I'm pretty sure he's just being polite."

        Not that Kat cared, either way. After all, Charles had not flirted with her any more than she probably deemed necessary to get her attention in her line of work. Kat rather felt that Charles had been nothing but polite to her as well, but Charles had also been away with Moira and Erik to Russia, searching but obviously not finding Sebastian Shaw. Nevertheless, the way Moira laughed and blushed at some of the things Charles said only served to show what interest she had in him, too. Surely he knew; he could have her if he so wanted.

        At least that was what Kat thought until Charles had looked over to her and met her eyes with an all-knowing smile on his lips. Kat immediately looked away and trying to focus on eating her food.

        She most certainly did not care.

        Down the hall from Raven's room, at least, Kat didn't have to worry about anyone around her. She showered and dressed for bed, a lovely slow tune playing from the wooden radio on her bedside table. The room was lovely, to say the least. Just as the rest of the house was, if not a bit dusty in some areas.

        Once she was dressed with her towel hung and hair brushed, Kat turned off the radio and made her way back her waiting bed with the hopes that she would be able to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the first pillow.

        The one thing she had not anticipated was finding herself still awake at nearly two in the morning, going by what her clock told her as it ticked and ticked into her otherwise silent dark room.

         Groaning, Kat sat up in her bed and looked at the clock with frustration, running a hand through her hair. Why couldn't she sleep?  Sure, there was the now constant buzz of thoughts and dreams from the others in her head, but Kat felt certain there was more than that keeping her awake. And after what she had seen the night before. . . 

        'Can't sleep?'

        Kat gasped. Charles's voice was loud and clear in her mind, catching her off guard as she clutched the blankets on the bed.

        'Neither can I," he spoke again to her after she didn't answer him, and Kat almost swore she could hear an almost amused tone in his voice.  'Should you find yourself terribly bored in that lonely room, you are free to join me upstairs in mine. That is if you're not still upset thinking about Moira and me at dinner.'

        Even if Charles could have seen the blush on her face, Kat would have denied it ever took place. She looked up at the ceiling and scratched behind one of her cat ears. Experimentally, she thought back, 'Which room is yours?'

        'The only one with the light on underneath.' And Kat could hear the smile even in his mental voice.

        Kat threw off the blankets then and got out of bed, keeping a smile all her own.

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