I have a couple more oneshots in mind for this series, but the last month has been consumed with moving. Ugh. Have a little more Dadneto for your X-Men fanaticism. ;) Maybe I can get back into these oneshots after things settle down.

(Disclaimer: Neocolai does not own X-Men or anything related therein.)

Charles was a fool. A sentimental, passive scholar who coddled his students into squandering their talents.

He also had a perverted sense of humor.

"Honestly, Erik, I don't see why you should have any trouble working with her. She's just like you."

Yes, stubborn, willful, defiant, innovative, and acrimonious. (Erik didn't know who she resented, but he was already bearing the brunt of her aggression.)

"You should know better than to put her under my supervision," he warned Charles. "I won't tolerate insubordination."

Charles smiled pityingly. "You're the only one who can handle her. She won't respect Hank, and I daresay her mother is wringing her hands. You already have experience with children."

"Why not Lorna?" Erik contended. If he was going to be pitted with another brat besides his son, why not another metal bender? (Not to mention his own daughter, should Charles care to forget.)

"As you know, Polaris is more interested in the theater than the X-Men at this time," Charles said wryly. He seemed to find that rather droll. As if the daughter of Magneto flinging herself into some lousy actor's embrace on television was amusing. (Not that Erik was tracking Lorna's progress in the film industry. He was just ensuring her 'boyfriends' didn't follow her off-set. Kids these days.)

"You should introduce her to Peter," Charles said lightly. "I'm sure he'd be interested in meeting his new training partner."

"Sure." Erik beseeched the heavens for deliverance. "And who will talk to Peter when he obsesses over 'sharing time'?" Dang kid was already feeling insecure after Tornado started scampering after Jean.

"I'm sure you can negotiate between them." The telepath sounded too smug. Erik shot him a wretched glare.

"If she decides not to stay, you won't have to deal with her anyways," Charles assured him readily.

"One week." He could endure that much. "If she can't abide supervision, find someone else."

"Very well."

Erik didn't turn around. He knew that Charles was still sniggering at his plight.

"Mystique is a decent instructor: patient and inventive," Erik explained. "You want that kind of coaching, you can back out now."

"Believe me, I didn't ask for this." Her voice was as begrudging as her posture as she walked beside him, narrow shoulders slumped, arms crossly folded.

By the end of the week, Charles was going to find his clock in one of the city waste disposals.

"I already have one student," Erik stated. "He's fast and he's a pest, but you'll have learn to get along with him."

"Yes, Quicksilver. I know." She sounded vaguely flustered, raising one hand to swipe at her hair.

Erik rolled his eyes. Fantastic. The last thing he needed was puppy love in the middle of a training exercise.

"Look… before we begin." She turned to face him, audacity teeming in green eyes. "I didn't want this. I was content with my own team. I'm only here as a favor to my mother, so if you're indisposed by my intrusion then trust me, we are both antipathetic."

He was mildly impressed. Perhaps forcing Peter to work with a team member would improve his terminology.

If only.

"Fine." Erik nodded curtly. "One week trial. If you can't take it, you're free to walk away."

"Believe me, that won't be difficult."

He was going to sic a sugar-high Peter on Charles. During class time. With ten cases of silly string.

The reluctant trainee sighed, forcing a composed stance. Erik read the nervousness behind her nonchalance as she asked, "So where is my teammate?"

"Probably sitting through a lecture," Erik intoned. Kid had probably riled Hank during class time again. They were going to have to talk about concentration levels.

"I heard you met him ten years before," she said elusively. "Has he changed since then?"

Perplexed, Erik tried to trace the nostalgia that slipped into her tone. He shook his head. High school crushes were the worst.

"Why don't you decide for yourself?" he said evasively, unconsciously mirroring her aloof stance. "He should be here any minute."

Of course, he was never prepared when the chittering fledgling randomly appeared beside him.

"Sorry I'm late I didn't hear from the professor until like five minutes ago and then he made me wait he said it was important and that was like five minutes he wouldn't tell me what you wanted to see me for so I've been waiting all this time and I didn't get in trouble with anybody honest it's just that…."

The barrage ceased abruptly as Quicksilver glanced over Erik's shoulder. Brown eyes widened, hurt and hopeful and a touch scared.

"Peter, this is Scarlet Witch," Erik said calmly.

"He knows," she interjected.

Mystified, Erik looked down. Green eyes were damp: with exhilaration or longing or remorse, he could not say.

Instantly Peter flickered before her, grabbing her hands, stammering and blurring and trying to voice everything at once.

Finally he looked back at his father, dark eyes aglow.

"So you know I have a twin sister, right?"

Erik blinked.

The world twisted, righted itself, and curdled his brain again.

He stared into jaded green eyes.

Oh, he was going to murder Charles.