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*****
Fiancé?
Erik's gaze swept over Ororo and T'Challa. Surprised, he asked, "When did this happen?"
Ororo shook the huge diamond on her right hand, face full of sweetness.
"It was on Christmas," she said. "He suddenly did it—caught me completely off guard."
The two of them exchanged a tender look.
Erik: "..."
That last gesture was a little excessive!
Having affection shoved in his face like that left a strange taste in Erik's mouth.
"So you dragged me out here today just to show me your… engagement ring?" he asked.
"Of course not!" Ororo hurriedly shook her head and looked at T'Challa.
T'Challa took Ororo's hand and was about to speak when the deer-servant cheerfully knocked and brought coffee to the three of them. After Erik offered his thanks—his voice deep and magnetic—the server's hooves skittered off in a flurry of embarrassment.
"Heh."
All three of them smiled, charmed by the server's clumsy cuteness.
Kent House carried a peculiar prestige here.
T'Challa composed himself and said seriously, "On behalf of Wakanda, I wish to propose a cooperation with FutureTech and to establish diplomatic relations with Kent Star."
Erik blinked and then asked, puzzled, "Establish diplomatic relations? Do you know what that implies?"
This place was a nation of mutants. If they formalized diplomatic ties, how would other Earth nations view Wakanda? How would they treat it?
T'Challa smiled confidently. "Wakanda has long been seen as peripheral—some view us as backward—but in truth Wakanda is far more advanced than anyone imagines."
"This world is changing and growing more dangerous every day. Wakanda cannot remain isolated. Seeking a powerful ally is a wise choice."
Erik nodded and smiled. "Kent Star is indeed powerful and could be a strong ally, but…"
A cold light flickered in his eyes as he continued, "How can I be sure Wakanda is a qualified ally?"
T'Challa removed a bracelet from his left wrist, detached two black beads, and placed them on the table.
Instantly a holographic projection sprang to life.
Watching the rolling images, T'Challa explained, "This is some genuine information on Wakanda to give you a preliminary understanding."
Erik's eyes shifted as he watched the footage, astonishment rising within him.
The technology was more advanced than any country on Earth—this was only a fraction of it, yet already breathtaking.
He nodded. "Impressive. But… in what capacity are you approaching us for an alliance?"
"The soon-to-be king of Wakanda," T'Challa said calmly, though a faint sadness slipped across his face.
His father had died a month ago—peacefully—but something about the death nagged at him. Investigations had found no clear foul play, so T'Challa had forced himself to chalk up his unease to grief.
Erik looked from T'Challa to Ororo. Well then—future king and queen?
He stroked his chin. "I can't decide this alone. I'll need to consult the others."
"That's proper," T'Challa replied with a small smile. Ororo added, "We've already discussed it with the Professor. He said the same thing."
Erik nodded, then proceeded to make several phone calls in their presence.
The first call was to Mike. Mike's response: "You handle it," and then he hung up.
Erik's expression darkened. He phoned Clark next—Clark echoed the same curt reply as Mike.
Finally, after calling Charles, Erik got useful feedback and a tentative agreement.
His last call was to Nick Fury. After deliberation, Fury allowed Erik to proceed, but suggested they first inspect Wakanda in person and only formalize relations after T'Challa officially ascended the throne.
Erik set the phone aside and told T'Challa, "They tend to agree, but formal diplomatic recognition will have to wait until you're actually king."
T'Challa smiled. "That is proper."
Then he looked at Ororo with tenderness and said, "And I plan to invite you as friends and family to our wedding."
To Ororo, friends and family meant the school that had accepted and educated her; Charles—Professor X—had been like a father to her, albeit a father a bit younger than she might expect.
"A wedding?" Erik asked in surprise. "So soon?"
Ororo flushed and nodded. "The ceremony will coincide with T'Challa's coronation. He said he wants to combine two events that mean everything to him into one day—make that day the most important of his life."
Erik's mouth twitched. Another public display of affection—just what he needed.
T'Challa squeezed Ororo's hand and said, "So I sincerely invite you to our wedding."
And, taking advantage of the trip for the wedding, to inspect Wakanda and decide on the alliance?
Erik thought briefly and then nodded. "That's fine. But if you expect them to attend your wedding, you need to go."
"That is proper," T'Challa agreed with a smile.
"All right, that's settled for now. I have other matters—I'll take my leave."
Erik rose. If he stayed any longer, he'd be buried under an avalanche of PDA.
"We will send you an official invitation later," T'Challa said, rising to escort him out alongside Ororo.
Erik waved them off—signaling them not to chase him with more saccharine displays—and left quickly.
Better to be busy building houses and handling company affairs. He'd ask Hela out to dinner later that evening—speaking of which, their relationship had warmed considerably. The memory of Hela not rejecting his handhold yesterday still made him grin inwardly.
…
Kent Star—former X School, now Kent Academy for Gifted Heroes.
X School had been one of the first buildings erected. It held a special place in mutants' hearts—not just a school, but the X-Men's base, the cradle of mutant heroes.
At this moment, the school's leader, Professor Charles Xavier, sat in his office sighing.
Ororo was getting married—that gave him that fatherly, bittersweet feeling of a child preparing to wed.
Knock, knock!
The door was tapped.
Charles rubbed his face and set a more composed expression.
"Come in."
Jean entered like a lily in bloom, dressed in a white floral dress. She trotted to Charles and set a tray down.
Charles looked at her reddened fingers and gently blew on them. Jean's cheeks colored, and the tender look on Charles' face warmed her.
"You could have used your power to bring it over without burning yourself, you idiot," he chided, lightly tapping her forehead.
"I forgot," Jean whispered, then lifted the lid from the tray.
"I tried a new dish—sweet-and-sour pork. Try it," she said, offering him chopsticks.
She'd remembered Charles liked this dish and had practiced it again and again.
Charles tasted it and brightened. "Very good!"
Jean's face blossomed into a smile—those efforts had not been in vain. She clenched a fist of quiet triumph.
Charles set down the chopsticks but sighed again.
"Still thinking about Ororo?" Jean asked with a smile.
He nodded. "You and Ororo were my first two students. I'll miss her—this sudden wedding… I can't help feeling sentimental."
"But she'll stay at the school, right?"
"That's not the same."
"I won't leave," Jean said suddenly.
Charles paused, looking at her earnest eyes, then laughed out loud and pinched her nose. "I know."
Jean smiled. Inside, another personality cried out wildly: "Tackle him! Tackle him!" Jean clamped it down with her power.
"Shut up!" she hissed.
Charles blinked. "I didn't mean you!" Jean hurried to explain.
"Is it her?" Charles asked, and when Jean nodded, his face turned serious. "If anything unusual happens, tell me at once."
Jean agreed softly.
At that moment the office door opened and Logan stepped in, but seeing the two, he awkwardly snorted and backed out, then closed the door. Charles called out, "Come in!"
Logan pushed the door and said, "There's something that needs your attention."
"Understood. I'll go now." Charles rose, grabbed another taste of the sweet-and-sour pork, and hurried out.
Jean's face fell a little; she'd wanted to ask Charles to dinner.
Charles paused at the doorway, then turned back with a bright look. "Are you free tonight?"
"Yes!"
"How about we have dinner together?"
"Yes!" Jean blurted, thrilled.
They exchanged smiles as Charles left.
…
San Francisco, Earth.
Dusk fell as Hank Pym hummed and opened his front door.
"Hey! Uncle Hank!" a familiar voice called like a ghost behind him.
Hank flinched and whirled, scolding Clark, "Don't sneak up on me like that—I'm getting old, I can't handle the shock!"
Clark wore an innocent grin.
"You're here!" Hope said, stepping in with wet hair. She ignored Hank and delightedly turned to Clark.
Clark smiled. "I made the reservation."
Hope tossed the towel she'd been using at Hank and pulled Clark in for a deep kiss.
Hank glowered. "..."
Was he invisible now?
He clenched the towel, fuming.
"Uncle Hank—are you okay?" Clark asked with an amused cough.
Hank waved it off, "I'm fine. I just saw a pig rooting through cabbage."
Hope shot him a knife-like look. Hank shivered and hurried, "Let's go, go change."
Hope ran upstairs, leaving Hank both exasperated and oddly pleased as he sat on the couch. Clark obediently followed.
Although Hank loved Clark, the old man felt a grudging irritation at the closeness.
"Clark, when will you come with Mike? We need to talk," Hank said after a moment.
Clark paused.
Hank rolled his eyes. "About you and Hope."
That kid—what timing.
Clark considered and said, "I want to wait until my dad and Raven get married before I decide about Hope."
Hank's brow knit. "When will Mike marry Raven? Not waiting until after the baby is born, surely?"
"My dad hasn't said. He has his plans," Clark answered. "It shouldn't be too long."
Hank nodded. When Hope came down, his scowl melted into a doting expression. "Hope, you look lovely today."
"Thank you, Hank," she replied, smiling. She draped herself over the couch back, kissed Clark lightly, and asked curiously, "What were you talking about?"
Hank hurriedly said, "Nothing."
"Really?" Hope asked, looking between them.
Clark answered, "Uncle Hank asked about my dad."
With that, Clark rose. "Let's go."
Hope grinned and took his hand.
Just as they were leaving, Hank feigned misery: "Are you sure you're going to abandon an old, hungry man here to guard this scary empty house while you two go out to dinner?"
Hope sighed, and with Hank peeking at her expression and secretly pleased, she snapped, "Yes!"
Hank: "..."
(End of chapter)