Thank you all so very very much for the utterly kind, supportive and encouraging comments/favs/kudos. I am just floored! Can't begin to express how grateful I am to all your kindness and patience. I will work my hardest to complete this story for you all, and it also helps that I've definitely got a clearer picture of the journey towards the ending thanks to DoFP.

Short little snapshot today, had been working on another one that's turning into a monster, and I'll need more time with it.

Charles, aged 4, occurs soon after the snapshot The Married Life (Chapter 13 Thirteen and Winter Heats Up)

~x~

Erik will forever curse the day Tony freaking Stark landed in the mansion's main patio to coo and coddle at an overjoyed Charles, and immediately declare it time to break out the champagne and caviar, which seemed to be in endless supply from the private jet that followed in after the man sometime later, unable to keep up with the Ironman's speed. Apparently Steve Rogers let spill Charles' current predicament.

It's not even because Stark is human. Any human who can strut around the globe within a red metal suit while pissing off numerous political figureheads is passable in Erik's books.

No. It's because the world renowned billionaire, playboy, inventor, superhero and full time asshole brought Charles that gift.

"I owe Charlie here one of the first fully functional prototypes. And because I hand crafted these myself, I've customized it with my favourite colour."

Stark's wink should have been Erik's first sign of impending doom.

~x~

"Freeze! Hands in the air! Raise'em slowly!"

Erik knows without even looking at his peers that everyone's eyes rolled at those words. Seriously, will they never learn?

"I think you'd all really prefer I not do that."

It was a childish move, Erik knew that. However, scare tactics are effective and down right amusing at times. He's been in a good mood ever since Stark had his ass whipped and called back to his multi-million empire by a Miss Potty, or at least that what Charles called her. With time to spare, Erik couldn't resist a little psychological scarring.

"This is your final warning! We have you all fully surrounded! Put your hands in the air!"

Erik savours the dawning looks of dread and anxiety as his barely there smirk morphed into a manic, toothy smile, in time with the all too slow raise of his arms. But just as the metal manipulator was about to unleash his powers, an eardrum pinching shrill of a telephone ring cuts through the beautifully thick tension, making all the humans and even Raven jump in surprise.

Shit.

Erik had completely forgotten about the hideous bulk of a contraption that is currently tied around his neck, not unlike a bell that dangles around a cow's neck. It's Stark's gift to Charles. A prototype of what he calls the future of mass communication. A portable, wireless telephone. So advanced in its time, anyone would think it's an oversized red brick hanging off the neck of a helmeted man who is overly fond of the colour maroon. The man would have much preferred the loathsome device be hooked onto his belt or something, but Charles had personally hand made, or rather haphazardly tied together the neck strap, recycling all the sparkly ribbon left over from Christmas wrapping. The boy was so proud of his ingenuity, no one would have the heart to refuse him.

The ringing continues unrepentantly, it's obtrusive ignorance echoing throughout the large hollow space. After the sixth ring, Raven's intricately scaled forehead furrowed together clearly saying one thing.

Pick up the bloody phone. Do you want all of us to get a migraine when we get back?

Erik lets slip a resigned yet slightly fond sigh and pressed the green button, making the weighty red box sound a clear beep.

'Ooo! Is stop ringing! Ullo Erik! ? Ullo! ? D'ya hear me!? Guess who! !"

Judging by the completely thrown look on even the human standing furthest away, the whole compound could hear the bubbly and excited voice of a young toddler with an accent that's a weird mix of American and English. Charles still thought he needed to shout to be heard over the phone. It's been one firm rule in the mansion that Charles is not to play with the telephone, for fear of yelling himself hoarse.

"Hello, Maus. I'm in the middle of someth-"

"Wow! How'd you know is me! ?"

"Of course I do, maus. Listen, I'm very sorry I have to cut this call short. I'm very busy-"

"But nooooooo! ! ! But I wanna talk to you! Haven't talk t'you since lunch! ...don't you wanna talk to me back?"

Every single set of eyes, friend or foe, is now fixated on him alone, wondering how the man will respond to the little boy whose voice had gone quiet and shaky. But Erik knew better. Charles is a very clever, manipulative little boy.

"I know you're playing dirty, Charles. Now's not the time."

Caught in the act, the man can almost hear Charles' legs swinging about guiltily from the stool the boy no doubt used to reach the phone with.

"But but guess what happened to me today!"

"Charles, I'm hangin-"

"Logan took me to the park and-"

Wait, what?

"Logan did what! ? Which park! ?"

It better not be where Erik thinks it is.

"Yeah huh! We went to the park where we found him! And saw lotsa mommies wiht con-star-pasted faces taking the other kids away. I didn't even gets the chance to practice my big boy words… But I can practice with you now!"

"No no no no no! That's fine, I'll be home very soon, you can tell me then, OK?"

"But Erik, what's booty call mean? Why did Logan say I can help him call his boots at the park? I don't wanna talk to his boots! Is that a game? Why haven't you played it with me before? Is that what you're doing right now without me? Do you wanna be talking to Logan's boots and not me? How come you never call my boots?"

Before Erik has a chance to digest all of Charles' words, there's a shifting sound over the phone, then a muffled voice that belonged to Alex.

"Charles? Are you playing with the phone again? You know you're not allowed, little man."

"Oh-oh…"

"You didn't call up the next Mr. Christmas and try to tell them off for impersonating Erik did you."

Charles had one day figured out by himself what the telephone book was, and had apparently called up two listed Christmas' before his crusade was thwarted.

"Nah uh! ! Is not a stranger, is Erik! I'mma booty call with Erik! !"

"W-what? ...wait, aren't they on a mission or something?"

There was utter silence for two seconds before Alex breaks into a bout of cackling and snorting. Suddenly the phone makes a couple of rapid beeps before the red LED bulb fades, signaling the batteries have been exhausted. Needless to say, all the humans have also been dealt with long before Erik had a chance to unleash his urge to de-skeleton a certain man upon his current foes.

"You spoil him too much."

Raven shakes her head with disapproval.

"You're the one who gave him the idea to have me lug around this brick!"

~x~

Two days later, Erik chokes on his freshly brewed espresso when he sees the front page headlines as well as a highly blurred picture obviously taken from afar.

'Mutant Terrorist Talks to Bricks!'

The newspaper is instantly in shreds, as well as the aforementioned brick.

Of course Charles would come skipping into the room right at that moment, skidding to an abrupt and dismayed stop.

"It's OK, Erik. Hank said he knows how to make more of them too."

The toddler helped himself up onto Erik's lap, giving the man a tight hug and patting at his head as if comforting a kicked puppy.

"I'll ask him to make you a bigga better one, so you won't break it again! And then we can booty call all the time! !"

Fuck my life.