Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/383906.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      X-Men:_First_Class_(2011)_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Erik_Lehnsherr/Charles_Xavier, Armando_Muñoz_&_Alex_Summers
  Character:
      Armando_Muñoz, Alex_Summers, Angel_Salvadore, Charles_Xavier, Erik
      Lehnsherr
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Meta, Experimental, Incest, Fluff,
      Werewolves, Remix
  Collections:
      Remix_Redux_10:_X_Marks_the_Spot
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-04-15 Words: 4722
****** The Future is in Somebody's Backyard (The Fly Like We Do Mix) ******
by cm_(mumblemutter)
Summary
     Armando's just happy he can waste his time in fandom instead of
     fighting for mutant rights.
  This work was inspired by
      Give_me_your_stars_to_hold by pearl_o, Circles_on_the_Grass by pearl_o,
      With_the_Red_Roses by pearl_o, rest_your_head_(on_this_heart_of_mine) by
      pearl_o
Armando was a kid when Charles Xavier died. He remembers watching CNN, his
mother going, "Guess you're not gonna be an X-Man anymore."
"Maaaa, the X-Men aren't just Professor X, don't you know anything," he replied
in typical six year old whininess. He remembers watching, also, Magneto at the
funeral, dropping his helmet onto the lowered casket and openly weeping.
Armando didn't get it back then - they were supposed to be enemies, weren't
they?
He gets it now. Or he thinks he does: It's not easy shifting through the
tangled webs of their lives, separating truth from fiction from myth. Stuff
gets declassified every day, what with the new administration's policy of
increasing transparency when it comes to the mutant rights struggle - as it
ought to be, mutants helped the president get elected after all, but even then
the information is spotty.
It's not as if Erik and Charles sat down often for interviews to chat about
their decades long romance. Not as if Armando truly believes it to be true
anyway, or that it matters. He just likes to pretend that it is.
                                       *
The first thing he does when he wakes up is reach for his phone. He checks
tumblr, livejournal, and then his emails. There's a bunch of stuff he needs to
read and reply to, mostly comments about the story he posted last night.
Armando decides to look at them later, but for now he just flops back onto the
bed and browses idly through the kink meme, hoping the story he's been
following will have been updated throughout the night. It hasn't, and Armando
sighs.
Havok: morning sleepyhead!
Darwin: how did hit know I was awake
His laptop is just a few feet away, but he's too lazy and contented to get out
of bed now, so it'll have to wait.
Havok: you get up at the same time every morning, you dolt. and get off the
phone.
Darwin: but I'm laze. also it's a Saturday I can stay in id I want. why are you
up do early?
Alex is a few hours ahead of him. Not like Armando has his phone displaying
both their timezones or anything.
Havok: late night. i haven't even gone to bed yet. will crash soon.
Havok: just wanted to say hi.
He scrolls through the Charles Xavier tag on Tumblr and pauses on a video of
James McAvoy discussing the sequel to the X-Men biopic, and whether the rumors
are true that it will focus on Magneto. "Well, we've been in some discussion,
but as to where it's headed you really have to ask the producers."
The interviewer asks something Armando doesn't quite catch, but McAvoy
helpfully repeats the question for him, "Do I think mutants and humans have
reached equality? The way Professor X envisioned it? I think there's a ways to
go yet, but we're getting there. I will say this, a decade ago there wouldn't
even have been an X-Men biopic, and they definitely wouldn't have cast a
mutant."
Then the interviewer asks: "So tell me something, if you could, would you
choose telepathy or the power that you were born with?
"It's hardly a power, love, all I can do is make people feel comfortable for
short bursts of time. It's why I'm just an actor. It does come in handy with a
pregnant wife at home though." He winks at the camera. "Now, Fassbender. He
could be a real superhero. He actually has a costume in his closet, it's very
fetching."
                                       *
On the way to do his laundry he finds out that another chapter of his favorite
AU has been posted. He tells this to Alex excitedly, but as usual Alex reacts
with an eyeroll.
Havok: it's like half a million words now and not even close to an ending.
Darwin: It's called having an attention span, Al.
Havok: whatever. you should write me more about the brothers.
Darwin: I added some stuff. Sending you now.
Havok: sweet.
     Erik had always known that he belonged to Charles. He doesn't
     remember much of his childhood before coming home, but he remembers
     the day. The nice lady who smelt of lavender leaning over him and
     telling him, "You're coming home with me now, sweetie." And then
     Charles, and Erik had held out his hand and Charles took it, and that
     was that.
     Mother asked him once, nervously, "I was - I keep expecting you to
     ask me about your real family. Where you came from." Erik had lifted
     his head, thought of Charles upstairs, head bent over a book and
     waiting for Erik to come up and interrupt him, and replied, "I know
     who my real family is." She'd started crying then, and he'd had to
     hug her until he was crying too, and finally she pulled away and
     wiped the tears from his face. "Go on up and tell your brother
     dinner's ready in a half hour, and that he doesn't get dessert if
     he's late."
     Upstairs, he'd stood at the entrance of Charles' room and watched as
     he muttered to himself and scribbled something into his notebook,
     oblivious to Erik until Erik must have made some sound, and then he
     started, and smiled brilliantly. "Mom says you're not to be late for
     dinner," Erik said. "What are you doing?"
     "Just some brushing up for school tomorrow. Some of us believe in
     being prepared."
     Erik threw himself onto the bed. "You're such a freak," he said, and
     had to catch the dreamy tone in his voice. There had to be something
     wrong with him: Charles' pillow smelled amazing.
Havok: is that it?
Darwin: IDK sex happens at some point?
Havok: yes, please?
Darwin: What, now? I need to build the setting first.
Havok: w/e w/e SEX
Darwin: God.
Darwin: Hang on a minute.
There's a green-hued girl with pink wings at the laundromat that always flirts
with him, so Armando puts the phone away for a while. He starts writing as soon
as he gets back to his apartment though, and tells Alex the story is updated.
     The night before Charles is set to go back to college, Erik crawls
     into bed with him. Charles is halfway to asleep, but he loops an arm
     around Erik's waist and pulls him close. "Charles," Erik says
     urgently, "I want you to fuck me." That jolts Charles awake. He
     blinks, wide-eyed, at Erik. "I brought the lube and everything." It
     feels stupid now, this. Of course Charles won't. But he's wanted
     everything else so far. Why not this. Erik bites his lip and blurts
     out, "Won't you say something, please."
     "I'm torn," Charles says. "Between what my cock wants and what my
     brain is telling me, which is that what my cock wants is wrong."
     "Oh," Erik says, sighing slightly in relief. "It's okay, just don't
     listen to your brain for once." He puts his hand on Charles' chest.
     "I want you to be my first, Charles."
     Charles looks up at the ceiling, whistles between his teeth. "Stop
     that, you're making it -" He grabs Erik then, pushes him onto his
     back and straddles him. "I love you," he says fervently.
     "I know."
     Erik helps Charles undress before throwing off his own clothes with
     wild abandon. "I've never," Charles says. "Only, you know. With
     girls. But not that."
     "It's okay, I trust you." For some reason that makes Charles groan,
     and he leans down to lay a hot, wet kiss on Erik's lips. "Go on,"
     Erik whispers, when Charles pulls away finally, barely an inch away.
     "Fuck me. Fill me up with your -"
     Charles starts spluttering, and it takes a moment for Erik to realize
     he's laughing. "You need to lay off the gay porn."
     "Shut it." Erik wraps one leg around Charles' waist and pulls him in,
     and Charles' laughter cuts off abruptly. Erik can feel Charles' cock,
     hot and hard against his belly.
     "I want to," Charles says, and he scoots downwards. Erik lets his
     thighs fall open as Charles opens his mouth to swallow the head of
     his cock, making him cry out hoarsely. Charles lifts his head long
     enough to go, "Shh. Mom," and Erik nods helplessly, clamps both his
     hands over his mouth to keep from making so much noise. Which is
     hard, as Charles keeps -
     He pulls his hands away long enough to say, "Don't, or I'm gonna."
     Charles nods his head and sits up, says brusquely, "Where's the
     lube?"
     Erik scrambles to get it from where it lies forgotten on the floor
     and tosses it to him. Charles stares at it for a while, motionless,
     until Erik starts whining again, then he says, "Needy," but he bends
     to plant a kiss on the inside of Erik's leg to alleviate the sting.
     It hurts, more than Erik thought it would, even though Charles uses
     half the tube of lube - it's watermelon flavored and Erik's not sure
     now why he thought it would be a good idea to be fucking while
     smelling watermelon, but it's too late to back down now, especially
     not when Charles is thrusting into him, once, twice, and Erik must
     have made a face, because Charles halts immediately, frowning, but
     Erik makes a "go on" gesture, which Charles ignores.
     "It'll hurt more if you stop now, just -" He loses what he's about to
     say as Charles thrusts in one more time, his fingers coming up to
     brace Erik's face, thumb wiping the sweat from his cheek. "I love
     you," Erik says, as Charles makes another shallow movement, and this
     time it's not pain he feels. "I love you, you make me feel -
     Charles."
Havok: \o/
Havok: ok now you can write the boring bits.
Darwin: You mean what some people call the 'plot'?
Havok: overrated.
                                       *
Alex asked him at some point, "You know Mystique's still bouncing around right?
What if she finds out you're writing stories where she bangs her brother."
"Yeah, I think she's too busy being a terrorist," Armando had said, "to care
what I write on the internet about the ~fictionalized versions of her and her
brothers."
Raven Darkholme hasn't been sighted in years beyond making the vaguest of
threats to bring down the world's governments, but that's not hard when you can
be anyone you like. Armando tries not to judge: he doesn't know her life, he
didn't have to live through what she lived though. Ma used to say, "It was bad.
Your Dad told me his parents threw him out of the house and refused to speak to
him again, and all he could do was bring dead plants back to life. That's a
gift, in my book."
Alex doesn't talk about why he's related to Scott Summers and yet has never met
the man. He mentioned, once, that there was some kind of family feud a long
time ago and now no-one even remembers what it was about, but then it was bad
enough that the families don't speak until today. Armando asked him if it was
kind of weird, reading porn about people his great uncle knew.
"I don't know, maybe if I get an invite to Westchester it'll be weird. But I've
never met any of them. Besides, Xavier and Magneto are dead or gone. And you
gotta promise me you'll never write about Cyclops."
"Yeah, I don't think that will be an issue." Armando has little to no interest
in ever writing about Cyclops.
                                       *
Armando went to an integrated high school, mutants and human alike. It was all
right, mostly, he had friends who were humans and friends who were mutants. The
humans were the ones more likely to wear those "Magneto was right" t-shirts,
and the mutants were more likely to splash water in his face while they were
having lunch together to watch him gill out.
He didn't have that much control over his mutation back then. Mostly, it was
funny, they didn't mean anything by it. And weird: he never gets used to the
gills, except for when he's walking underwater. Then it's just amazing,
breathing the water, the darkness turning to light as his eyes adjust to the
need to see.
He tells Alex this once, and Alex types a :( face. "All I can do is blow shit
up."
                                       *
Angel likes to fly in through Armando's window. "Can't you use your own
window," Armando asks, every time.
"You know it's too small."
"But your room is bigger," Armando points out, as she pouts. He offered to
switch with her once, but she said no.
"Is that Alex again?"
"Yes."
"Tell him hi for me." She flutters her wings briefly before settling them back
into her shoulders.
"Will do."
"Are you guys writing superhero porn again?" She shooes at Armando until he
makes room for her in his bed. "Oh Erik," she says, putting her hand to her
forehead dramatically. "When you're done terrorizing the world into submission
please bring your megalomaniacal ass to Xavier's school of pompous posturing,
where I shall educate you in the art of true love and deep dicking."
Angel thinks this whole fandom thing is hilarious, but she did watch the movie
with him five times - "Because it's my history too," she claimed, but mostly it
was because he insisted - and Armando knows she reads Star Trek fanfic when
she's bored. He elbows her and says, "Don't you have your own room?"
"But yours is so much neater."
"That's because I clean it more than once a year."
"Come on, man," Angel mutters. "Read me some like, hot man-on-man sexing. I'm
bored."
"Alex says you should get lost."
"He does not, he would never be so rude." She grabs the laptop from him and
Armando throws his hands up in the air. So much for finishing that story
tonight. Alex and Angel get along like a house on fire. He might as well just
take a nap.
                                       *
Alex Summers
to me
...what did I just read?
On Sat, Apr 14, 2011 at 2:46 AM, Armando M. (Google Docs) <darwin@gmail.com>
wrote:
I've shared babies apparently
 
     The problem with babies, Charles thinks, other than the pooping and
     the crying and the attention seeking and how unformed their minds
     are, is their effect on the libido.
     Charles knows this for a fact: he's spent way too many nights being
     cockblocked in the living room of some girl while she cooed over the
     little beast and he saw the night's prospects fading dimly away with
     every incoherent burble.
     This he ponders while driving, the third shift he's volunteered to
     drive for, while Erik sits next to him, entertaining the baby with
     finger puppets.
     Charles puts up with it as long as he can before he slams on the
     brakes. "I am not trying to avoid holding the child."
     "I didn't say a word," Erik replies serenely.
     Charles points at his own head, are you new, and Erik starts to
     laugh.
     The baby gurgles disgustingly in response.
     "The smugness in this car," Charles says. "Is unbearable."
     -
     Of course, another side effect of babies is that half the time he
     loses interest in sex anyway, due to them being a reminder of what
     happens when things go wrong. Ten minutes of pleasure, twenty-five
     years of child-rearing.
     Not that this is a problem with Erik.
     Charles brightens somewhat.
     "You really don't like babies." Erik sounds disappointed, like he
     does when Charles says things like, "No Erik, humanity will embrace
     us with time, you'll see." Like he's a frivolous twit in need of a
     good spanking -
     Now there's a thought. Charles blinks, slides his hands into his
     pockets. Clears his throat. Lies, through his teeth. "I love babies.
     I just don't have a lot of experience with them. I worry that I won't
     be able to meet their needs. They're just so fragile."
     Erik says, "They just want comfort. Surely you can understand that."
     "My mother believed that crying children should be left alone until
     they come to their senses."
     "Ah," Erik says, and Charles can practically see the lightbulb going
     off in his head.
     "That's not it at all," he wants to protest. But he sees the
     opportunity presenting itself right before he gives in the urge to
     roll his eyes and stalk off. So he says, abashed, "Give him to me
     then."
     "No, you wouldn't want to spoil him."
     "Come on," Charles says. "Just give him to me. I will - oh shit," he
     says, as a squirming child ends up deposited unceremoniously in his
     arms. Predictably, the little brat starts to cry.
     Erik takes Jakob back and shakes his head in disapproval. Charles
     feels properly schooled. It's kind of titillating. He opens his
     mouth, but shuts it again as Erik proceeds to ignore him.
     Babies.
Darwin: Baby road trip recruiting fic?
Havok: yes. but why?
Darwin: It was a kink meme request. Hang on.
Darwin: "During the road trip of love and feelings, Charles and Erik pick up a
baby. I just want baby cuddles, guys."
Havok: no.
Darwin: I spent all night writing it. Come on.
Havok: no.
Darwin: Why not?
Havok: you can't have Charles Xavier hating babies. He was an educator.
Darwin: There weren't any X-babies in the school. How do you really know how he
felt about babies?
Havok: no.
Darwin: :(
Havok: i like this bit though:
     Charles opens one eye and Erik's staring down at him, radiating
     fondness. There's something warm nestled against his chest. He opens
     his mouth but Erik puts a finger to his lips.
     He fell asleep like this, he projects.
     Charles shifts slightly, opening his eyes fully to look at the
     sleeping child, a fistful of Charles' shirt loose in his tiny hand.
     "I believe I just exhausted him out. Nothing to do with my parenting
     skills whatsoever."
     "Or lack of thereof."
     "Or that." Erik brushes a lock of hair out of Charles' face gently,
     and Charles thinks wildly: surely it can't be that easy. But then
     maybe it is. There's room on the bed, Charles jerks his head slightly
     and Erik nods.
     Charles watches him remove most of his clothes efficiently, and then
     he's sliding in behind him, wrapping an arm around Charles and
     cradling the back of Jakob's head with his fingers.
     "It just takes practice," Erik's voice is soft against the nape of
     Charles' neck.
     "Will you stay, then?"
     Erik stiffens, and the baby stirs slightly, but settles back down
     almost immediately. "One day at a time, Charles. One day at a time."
     It's a start, at least.
Havok: make him hate babies a little less.
Darwin: I hate you.
Havok: you love me. you do. dude, come on.
Darwin: Shut it.
He ends up posting the the snippet to his Tumblr, minus the bit about Charles
hating babies, and is faintly surprised at the number of reblogs it gets.
Darwin: Babies, man.
Havok: Girls, what do you expect?
Darwin: Yeah, don't let Angel hear you say that. Or anyone in fandom.
Havok: :-D
                                       *
The movie was ostensibly about the human CIA agent who made contact with
Charles Xavier, probably not in a bar, during the first Situation involving
mutants, cheerily referred to as the X Missile crisis, but Armando was
surprised at just how much Charles and Erik - and the rest of the mutants, but
mostly Charles and Erik - were featured.
He mentioned this to Angel, who said dryly, "Probably because Dr. McTaggert was
a woman." Angel didn't care for the movie at first, but Armando, Armando had
Thoughts. And possibly Feelings.
A lot of Feelings, as it turned out.
                                       *
Darwin: http://battle.oxoniensis.org/
Darwin: All right let's do this.
Darwin: Charles/Erik.
Darwin: Pick three.
Havok: hang on.
Havok: transformation, fisting, hope
Darwin: ...
Darwin: No, please, something more random.
Havok: if you can't do it...
Havok: no, but really. what's the point of a porn battle if you don't challenge
yourself.
Havok: darwin?
Darwin: One sec.
Darwin:
     The moon will save him, Erik thinks dreamily. He's fifteen, and Shaw
     has broken his fibula, just to show the visiting Nazis how quickly he
     heals. This memory Charlotte takes from his mind, as she runs her
     hand down the unscarred territory of his body. They don't scar, not
     the wolves. Shaw always thought it was the mutation.
     "I see the scars," Charlotte says. "I know." Her gaze turns bright,
     and distant. "But what is lycantropy then," she muses. "Some kind of
     a viral infection, seeing how it's transmitted by saliva. If the X-
     gene exists on a third -"
     Erik puts his fingers to her lips. "It's magic." He smiles at her
     derisive snort.
     "Oh, Erik. There is no such thing."
     The moon, though. Erik looks out through the window as Charlotte goes
     off on another tangent about tidal forces and how they're affected by
     the moon's gravitational pull, and how that might relate to their
     power, and Erik has to push her flat onto the bed and spread her legs
     just to shut her up. "Oh," she says, when he drags her in by her
     thighs so she's almost sitting in his lap.
     "Magic," Erik says, grinning briefly.
     "You flatter yourself."
     "But I haven't started yet." He wets his fingers in his mouth, just
     to warm them up, watches her as she watches him slide one finger in,
     and then the next. His thumb on her clit, and by the time he hits the
     third finger she's writhing under him, calling his name out brokenly.
     It's not planned, this, she's so tiny, he would never, but she's
     begging him, "More, oh Erik, all of you, please. All of you," and
     it's a slow, inevitable process, punctuated by nothing but the sounds
     of her gasps and his own breathing in his ears, and at some point his
     entire hand is in her, and all he can see is his wrist, and all he
     can feel is her body clamping around his.
     "Look at you," he says. "Oh, look at you." She comes then, sharp and
     hard, her entire frame almost rising off the bed, and Erik can't
     breathe for the beauty of it. "I love you," he says, his free hand on
     her belly, and he can feel himself inside of her. "You're amazing."
     Charlotte starts laughing, a vaguely hysterical laugh, and she says,
     "Now where on Earth did you learn how to do that?"
     "Nowhere," Erik replies, looking away. "I've never -" He unfurls
     another memory, years of being alone, of hunting Shaw, never slowing
     down for any kind of connection that wasn't fleeting and
     unsatisfactory. Certainly not this. Charlotte touches his cheek, and
     he turns into it, kissing her palm.
Havok: *clears throat*
Havok: well.
Havok: not what i expected, i'll give you that.
Darwin: :-D
                                       *
Armando has a job interview in the afternoon. Used to be, they would have a
little ticky box right below your name, where they'd ask you if you were in
possession of an x-gene or not. They don't anymore, but Armando still gets
nervous sometimes for a lot of reasons, his genes being one of them. The second
place he interviewed at flat out asked, and when Armando answered in the
affirmative, offered him the job. Armando didn't ask why, but he turned the job
down.
                                       *
Armando goes grocery shopping in the afternoon, and is forced to listen to
Angel babble in his ear about all of the million things she so desperately
needs. "I'll get you the fruit, Angel, but I am not buying you tampons."
"Can't you just turn yourself into a girl if you find it humiliating?"
"That's not how it works, Angel." He did turn into a white guy that one time,
but that was life and death. This is just humiliating. There's another girl in
the aisle, she shoots him a sympathetic look as he stares at row upon row of
tampons.
"Girlfriend?"
"Roommate."
At the check-out counter, Armando idly grabs a magazine that states, Thinking
of dating a telepath? Think again! Ten rules for dating the man who can
literally read your mind, in bright pink letters. "For my roommate," he says to
the cashier who raises her eyebrow at him.
"Uh-huh."
                                       *
Havok: hey
Havok: i was thinking
Havok: remember when professor x and magneto were kidnapped by rogue
s.h.i.e.l.d. agents and forced to stay together in a cell?
Darwin: Oh god.
Darwin: Everyone's written that story.
Havok: but you haven't.
And it's true, Armando's been thinking about that for a while. Ever since they
declassified the incident and a write up on it showed up on his Google news
feed. What it must have been like - to be trapped in a room with someone you
were once closer than blood to, but spent years afterwards tearing each other
apart, always on different sides.
He opens a new text file.
     Two hours after the pleasant haze of sex wears off, Erik is crouched
     in the corner of the prison, trying to find a weak spot in the wall
     once again. Charles is sleeping, or so Erik thinks, until he senses
     eyes on the back of his head. "Don't start."
     "I wasn't going to. We do need to get out of here."
     Erik stands and has to put his hand on the wall to steady himself. It
     feels, jarringly enough, like he's had this conversation before. "I
     feel as if we've had this conversation before." And that's Charles,
     not him. "What are they doing to us?"
     "Mind games. Drugs."
     Charles gets on his elbows, then seems to think better of it and
     flops back down. "I would ask you back to bed, but."
     "Yes." Erik turns away, leans his cheek against the wall. "Maybe they
     have a telepath."
     "They do not have a telepath." Charles sounds offended, and Erik
     laughs.
     "What's more insulting, the notion that a mutant would work for the
     other side or that he would be more powerful than you."
     "I'm trapped powerless in a small room with you, Erik. My ego's
     already taken that beating."
     "There has to be a way out."
     Charles says, "Hm," noncommittally.
     "How can you just lie there -" He cuts himself off abruptly and
     winces, but Charles doesn't seem to have noticed. "Do you ah, do you
     need any help?"
     "I'm not entirely helpless, Erik. Just crippled."
     They never talk about this. They don't talk about this. All the years
     of circling around one another, the random hook-ups in motel rooms
     when one of them gets too - lonely, but lonely's not the word he
     wants to use. Desperate, perhaps. Just one more thing in the long
     line of things they don't ever talk about.
     Erik kicks aimlessly at the wall, says instead, "When we get out of
     here, they are going to wish their parents had never even bothered
     meeting one another."
     "Yes, I suppose they are," Charles says. He sounds resigned.
     "Fuck you," Erik says. "You sanctimonious dick."
     There's a sound, a sudden burst of air. Erik has to turn away from
     staring at the wall to make sure: Charles is laughing, his shoulders
     shaking helplessly and his lips turned up.
     "What," Erik demands, but he has to wait for Charles to finish to get
     an answer.
     "It's just," Charles says finally, wiping tears from his eyes. "Hank
     once suggested that if we were locked up in a room together we might
     just work out our differences. This was some years ago," he adds. "He
     loathes you now."
     "I wouldn't -" Erik says. "There's still time yet. If I weren't an
     old man I'd suggest we have sex again. That part always goes
     spectacularly well."
     "Yes, well. You could always just come back to bed. You never know
     until you try." He shifts, leaves enough space for Erik to fill.
     "There's always room."
                                       *
Every year, the Mutant Pride Parade passes by under his window. This year, like
last year, Armando grabs a sleeping bag and his laptop and curls up on the
balcony to watch it go by. In celebration of mutant kind and in memory of
Charles Francis Xavier. "You should go down there," Angel says, ready to take
flight, join her friends already in the air.
"I'm good," Armando says, and smiles as Alex comes online. "It's a lovely day,"
he tells her.
She tilts her head back to the sky. "They keep getting better."
"Yeah they do."
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