Title: Ancient Future

Warning: May have eventual Erik/Charles. Playful comparisons to our past and their future. This fic is not to be taken seriously at times.

Author's Note: I thought about this storyline in a restaurant. I just had to rush home to write this! I thought it would be pretty interesting for the guys to see their future and be somewhat awed and disgusted by it. Thanks for taking the time to read my work.

Chapter 1: Hank's Mistake

"Damn you, Hank."

"Alright now, it's no use to curse the poor fellow-"

"Right, he's not the one that's in the future."

Hank had created a machine called Cerebro to find mutants for our cause. Unfortunately, it backfired and instead of searching for mutants, it had brought us all the way to year 2011. We are now in the middle of a busy New York City, with no bloody idea what to do. Hank probably doesn't know how badly he screwed up either, and even if he does know he created a time machine, he wouldn't know which year we went into.

I sighed. Running my fingers through my dark brown hair, I bit my lip. I honestly didn't want Erik to find out I was at a loss at what to do, because I didn't want to upset him further. His mind was in a current state of frenzy (I only knew that thanks to my mind-reading), which, to me, was an unseen side of confident, cool Erik. I patted his shoulder in consolation, to which he responded by trying to ineffectively suppress a small smile. I rolled my eyes inwardly. The man wouldn't even let me indulge in a little smile from him.

"For Pete's sake, would it hurt you to grin?"

"Well," Erik cracked his knuckles, "It would, if it was directed at you."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I speak but the truth," A smirk played on his lips. God, Hank just had to teleport me to the future with this bozo.

I could barely recognise the streets anymore. The hustle and bustle of New York City had certainly multiplied tenfold since the 1960s. The roads look more like a car convention and people looked as if they were perpetually out of breath as they carried what looked like portable communication devices. At least that was what I think it was.

And the skirts on those girls...

"At least be discreet if you want to look at their legs." Erik shot me a triumphant look as he caught me staring.

"Someone's a little jealous, I see."

Erik scoffed, "I think someone's running out of comebacks."

We stopped right outside a shopping centre.

I felt a tug at my hand, "Come on, we need to grab some things,"

"Erik, you keep forgetting our credit cards would have been expired by now. It's been 49 years-"

He smirked.

"I got cash."

Both of us stared at it. Its rectangular shape was small and compact, and it was metallic silver in colour. Several people had gone up to the cashier to pay for some of these, and both of us just had to have a good look at it. Oddly enough, it had a symbol of a half-eaten apple on the cover of the object. I narrowed my eyes, scrutinising the mysterious thing.

"Its insides must be metal," Erik quipped, seeing as he easily lifted it without his hands. As I scanned the description on the right of the table, I raised my eyebrows in fascination.

"It's called an Apple laptop... Th-this is a breakthrough in science and technology, Erik! Oh, what a lovely surprise! And we thought whatever is to be invented had already been invented," I animatedly gestured towards the laptop. I delightfully held the computer in my hands, feeling the very smooth surfacing of the product. Out of the corner of my eye, I could imagine Erik staring at me amusedly, as if I was his dumb brother who hadn't seen much of the world. I sighed.

"Stop looking at me like that," I muttered under my breath. People walked past us in the shop, often with curiosity coupled with amusement. I even heard a girl gasp in horror. There goes my credibility as a professor.

"This must cost a ton."

"Is money all you care about?"

"Right now, with only 200 dollars in my pocket, it is."

"You said you had a lot of money!"

"Back in the 1960s, 200 dollars was a lot of money, remember? Now a bloody sweater costs more." Erik shook his head. He rubbed his chin, trying to think of what they could do now. He then moved the mouse to reveal a whole library of digital songs on the computer. I was thoroughly impressed. He clicked on the first track.

"...This is music?" Erik blinked. I read the title:

Like A G6 byFar East Movement

"Isn't G6 a plane?"

"We must have run out of love themes to write about." Lehnsherr commented.

I squinted at the screen.

"Who's Michael Jackson?"

Then, I heard the distinct clicking of high heels behind me. I normally wouldn't have cared, but Erik's eyes suddenly widened to the size of a football. He almost looked grateful. Nothing makes him grateful. Not even my saving of his life.

That was when I turned around and got the shock of my life.

"RAVEN?"

End of Chapter 1.

SilentInceptor.