Ororo didn’t have any use for a lab, but she did have a need of a workspace separate to her living quarters. She never could concentrate on work in a room she also slept in. Given the age of the house, there were a few oddly sized rooms that had once served a purpose, but no longer did in a modern home. A small room with a large window was situated near the kitchen, the dimensions allowed for a desk, which Storm had pressed to the wall beneath the window, so she could look over the grounds as she worked; and some old-fashioned furniture. There was a cabinet with a tea set, a small sofa, and a dainty wooden table and chairs. It was the sort of setting one would expect to find doilies on the surfaces, but the tatted lace affairs were nowhere to be found.
She had been told to expect an unusual visitor, ‘Storm, you’ll never guess who showed up,’ were the exact words she heard before she got the news. She wasn’t ready to dismiss Magneto out of hand, while he had become more extreme in the months before the outbreak, he had at times been a good ally to the X-Men, some of their past students even knew him as a teacher; and on top of it all, his children were here. So with the assurance that somebody would be bringing him to this little office/sitting room, she poured the hot water into the silver teapot, and set out a pair of little china cups and saucers. There was a bowl of raw sugar, and she had a small carton of long life milk put by in case it was wanted, but she didn’t want to open it up unless it was.
She wanted to see what he had to say for himself, and she wanted to be civilised about it. At the knock at the door, she pushed back the long, white braids that had fallen over her shoulder as she looked up. “Please come in,” she called, and put the lid on the teapot to steep.
