Of Great Minds and Tea
By Yukirei (a.k.a. Cosmiko Ling)

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock (BBC), X-Men First Class or any of their characters. This is a non-profit fanfiction written by a fan, for the enjoyment of other fans.
Character(s): Charles Xavier, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Summary: "You may recall," Sherlock said to John, "that I had mentioned having very few friends during my brief stint at university. This man was one of them," He gestured to Charles. "Charles Xavier."

"You seem surprised," Sherlock remarked. "Why?"

John wouldn't call it surprise. Well. Perhaps, a little. In the past year of sharing a flat and grand and not-so-grand adventures with Sherlock Holmes, it was the first time John had seen Sherlock this relaxed around someone else. He had walked into Angelo's after a trying day at the clinic, expecting (almost dreading) to find Sherlock either once again bored out of his wits or irritated by his lateness. (Lestrade hadn't called, or Sherlock would certainly have at least sent him a text.) Instead, he found Sherlock in a quiet conversation with an unfamiliar young man who sat across him.

There was an easy air around the pair. The young man was dressed casually, wrapped in a cosy slate grey cardigan and loose-fitting trousers, and laughed unabashed at something that was said. Sherlock was in a dress shirt with sleeves rolled-up to his elbows, leaning back in his chair and wearing a serene smile that was pleased yet so unlike the ones he flashed when his intelligence scored a victory or he was conspiring devious deeds.

It was... unexpected. John couldn't recall at which point he had simply assumed that Sherlock didn't really get along with anyone else as he did with John, and for all that he told Sherlock that he had to give him space to have other friends (and explore potential romances), John wasn't sure if he wasn't just a little jealous at this moment.

Oddly, even though it was Sherlock who sat facing the entrance, the young man across him was the one who turned his head around (laughter ceasing as he sobered, though the good cheer didn't fade from his face) to look at John, before Sherlock looked up.

Then, Sherlock too lifted his head, still smiling, clearly in a good mood, as he waved for him to come over.

"Sherlock," John greeted.

"You seem surprised," Sherlock said, tilting his head and direct as ever. "Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing," John answered, a touch guiltily, "I just hadn't expected that you have company." It wasn't untrue.

Darting a glance at the stranger, John found the other staring at him thoughtfully and had to forcibly push down a feeling of unease. He reminded himself that he never faced a problem of getting caught telling half-truths during his military career.

"Our meeting was completely unplanned," Sherlock assured John. "Charles is only in London for a week and I haven't spoken to him in years until a few minutes ago." He flicked a glance at the stranger at this point, before he continued, "It would seem that he now holds a respectable teaching position - in genetics. And he is currently here in London as a guest lecturer at St. Barts."

Charles laughed.

John turned to him, watching the crinkly laugh lines that spread from his baby blue eyes and thinking that this man was surely too young to be someone whom St Barts would invite as a guest lecturer before those thoughts were distracted by Charles' next words.

"As always, correct!" Charles declared, eyes twinkling with delight.

A glance back at Sherlock found the detective with a smug look on his face and a same joy dancing in his pale eyes.

John couldn't help but smile, recognising that Sherlock had deduced Charles's recent circumstances and knowing the delight the man got from being correct. The tension eased from his shoulders simply because it was hard to remain tense. This man was Sherlock's friend.

"You may recall," Sherlock said to John, "that I had mentioned having very few friends during my brief stint at university. This man was one of them," He gestured to Charles. "Charles Xavier."

Charles smiled warmly as he pushed back his floppy fringe, fingers brushing his temple. "So," he paused, "you are Sherlock's flatmate, doctor and.. blogger of his cases. It is good to meet you, John."

"Wait," John halted, confused. His hand hung midair where he had automatically reached forward to shake Charles's outstretched hand. He didn't recall Sherlock even once mentioning his name. "How did you know who I am?"

Charles's smile took on a playful edge but he didn't answer.

"You already told him about me?" John spun on Sherlock who shook his head, amusement clear in his eyes.

John was hit by an unexpected and incredibly strange feeling of déjà vu.

"Does he deduce things the same way you do?" John asked Sherlock.

Sherlock raised a disbelieving eyebrow, snorting derisively before he pointedly said, "No. I am the world's only consulting detective. But," his smile returned with a sly glee as he spoke cryptically, "in some ways, Charles's abilities are far greater than mine."

"Yet in other ways, Sherlock can see what I cannot," Charles followed, without missing a beat.

John stared at Charles, then Sherlock. "Neither of you are going to tell what you're talking about, are you?"

Sherlock shrugged. Charles smiled mysteriously as he gently shook his head, glancing to Sherlock, then looking back at John, "I can see that he trusts you, but now may be too soon, my friend."

What? John wanted to ask more, but before he could even wrap his mind around what Charles had just said, he was interrupted by the sudden chiming of Sherlock's cellphone.

Sherlock whipped his phone from his pocket, excitement visibly growing on his face as he scanned through the message.

"Lestrade wants us to meet him," Sherlock announced, looking up.

"Now?" John asked, shifting slightly into a stance ready for action.

Sherlock gave a curt nod, jumping to his feet.

He glanced back down but Charles merely waved him away with an understanding smile.

"Text me. You have my number," Sherlock said briskly to Charles, who nodded and watched as Sherlock strode out of the restaurant in a swirl of long coat, John beside him.

Date written: 18 October 2011

A/N: I started this wanting to write a crossover case fic where Sherlock and Charles work together to solve a serial murder targeting mutants. The police is considering simply leaving the case unsolved, but Lestrade, good old Lestrade believes that
human or mutant, all are equal under, and deserve to be protected by, the law. Unable to find support in his own department, he turns to Sherlock to assist to solve the case. Charles gets wind of it and insists on helping. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten past the plotting stage for that, and it's highly possible that this may remain a one-shot as above.

Randomly, in my notes on possible background details for this: Sherlock is also a mutant with telepathic powers - but very weak ones, which he frankly finds more of an annoyance, because all they allow him to do is pick up loud thoughts (and that mostly just bothers him when he is trying to THINK). But maybe they help him give restaurant proprietors a little mental nudge about owing him free meals too. Erik will appear somewhere, somehow. Oh, and Mycroft supports peace with the mutants because war is terribly costly. Being Sherlock's friend, Charles had also gotten 'kidnapped' by Mycroft once. But with his telepathic ability, Charles is about the only person Mycroft has met who truly unnerved him. And Sherlock absolutely delights in that fact, which is one more reason why he actually genuinely likes Charles. Sherlock and Charles were, of course, fellow students at Oxford (or was it Bristol~?) University, where Sherlock was being shunned as a freak, but Charles is impressed at what he can induce without actually reading minds and didn't care about all that.