om_main | Cersei and Harry, backdated to June 28

Lannister and Osborn decide this is a connection worth nurturing. Grilled cheese, trust fund baby gossip, and plans for a date ensue.

Harry hated institutional food. It was funny, since he'd spent most of his life eating it--or maybe there was something causal going on there. The food at Xavier's was good, as that kind of thing went, but there were days Harry would rather eat a cup o noodles or one of the few basic meals he was capable of constructing himself. Such as, for example, grilled cheese.

So now he was constructing one with some gruyere he'd foraged from the fridge with no one's name on it and a few slices of sourdough. A little Irish butter on either side and bam. Edible food that didn't taste like being dumped.

The thought made him smile a little as he pressed down on the sandwich with the spatula. He was hardly dressed for kitchen work, in his usual perfectly tailored waistcoat, slacks, and button-down get up, though at least he had the sleeves rolled up and no tie.

"Imagine my surprise," a voice drawled from behind him, heavy with a lilting accent and snark, "when yet another rich boy arrives at the school."

Hands folded in front of her and head tilted like a curious cat, Cersei smirked at the other mutant. As always, her appearances was flawless with golden hair cascading freely but neatly around her shoulders and just enough makeup to accentuate her lips and green eyes. Designer dress and shoes were easily identified and the emeralds around her neck and in her ears spoke loudly of the girl's own status.

"I am beginning to wonder if those from the higher classes of society are more likely to develop abilities given the amount of wealth this school has attracted."

Harry glanced over his shoulder first, but when he saw who it was, he turned completely, gaze dropping to the emeralds before lifting to meet her eyes again. Clever girl, same color.

But then, Lannisters never did anything without forethought, that Harry had heard of. And this was most definitely, "Cersei Lannister." He hadn't seen her in an age, probably, but the Lannisters held enough Oscorp stock that the few times Harry'd been trotted out in the last few years, there was always a family representative there. A small smile tugged at one corner of Harry's lips. "Xavier does seem to have quite the collection going."

"That he does," she agreed with a bob of her head. "Someday, I suppose the shock will lessen but it is good to see you, Harry." Cersei took a few steps closer, peeking over his shoulder at his sandwich then smirking again. "I hope the school meets your expectations even if you are cooking for yourself."

"Better food than Fettes and Eton," Harry said. "But there's no substitute for something not created by a tea lady, no matter how well she's paid."

He set down the spatula and reached out for Cersei's hand. "Good to see you, too." In fact, he wasn't sure if it was or not, having a natural wariness towards those who invested in Norman Osborn's imaginary future... but he, of all people, knew better than to blame the offspring for the sins of the father.

She let him take her hand but rather than shake, she simply held it still, as if expecting him to kiss the back of it. "Merci, Harry. You managed a much better time to arrive than I did what with classes being finished for the semester. You will have plenty of time to settle in but of course, if you have any difficulties, I am certainly willing to offer any help I may be."

Harry went with it smoothly, lifting her small, pale hand to his lips and touching them to her fingers. After a slight squeeze, he let her go. "I guess the universe owed me one. I've been exploring--been to town, even--but I can always use an insider opinion."

He let her hand go, looking her directly in the eye and smiling just slightly, before turning back to the stove. "Trade you for a sandwich?"

She glanced at the meal he was preparing - not something she would usually eat but his tastes were refined and he wasn't using the awful, processed cheese she found occasionally in the cafeteria. "A fair deal," Cersei finally concluded. "What would you like to know?"

Harry's smile pulled at both corners of his lips now; he applied himself to the grilling process all the more assiduously. "The good, the bad, and the ugly, student-wise. I'm short on dependable opinions--hard to make business decisions without the right data."

Cersei pursed her lips slightly as she moved to prop a hip against the counter, though far enough away so that there was no risk to butter splattering onto her dress. "I will leave it to you to classify who falls into what category but there are a number of our kind here. Brian Braddock, Shinobi Shaw, Sirius Black, Tony Stark, Lucrezia Borgia, just to name a few..."

"So I hear," Harry said thoughtfully. "I went out with Tony and Shinobi the other night, but I haven't caught up with the others. Heard the Littlest Borgia is out for the summer though. Too bad; her brothers are hilarious."

She hummed an enigmatic little noise while watching him, studying each of his moves at the stove in a calculating sort of way. "You will in time, I have no doubt. Black remains as annoying as ever, I am afraid, and Braddock as aloof, though I suppose that is no surprise." His current taste in women, however, certainly was. "As for the rest of the school's population," Cersei continued, "I recommend staying away from River Tam is you do not want your brain picked at. She is not pleasant company anyway, so you are missing nothing by avoiding her."

"I met her brother." Harry faced the stove; not that he thought he'd give something away if he didn't, but better safe than sorry. Then, a slight smile tugged at his lips. "Then who is good company, in your estimation?"

"Why, Harry, the best possible company is the one you are currently keeping," Cersei replied with a teasing grin and flourish of her hands.

"How true." She was gorgeous anyhow, but when she smiled, Cersei Lannister was drop dead dangerous. Harry smiled over his shoulder at her, a quiet, knowing expression. "And if you're here, it can't be all bad, right?"

"At the very least, I make it more tolerable." The exchange was still light and teasing as the girl pursed her lips again and continued to watch him with a tilt of her head not unlike that of a cat. "There are other amenities that do, as well. The stables are not horrid and New York City is not far, though I would suggest calling for a car rather than taking public transportation or a cab." She practically shuddered at the thought. "Once you are settled, we should have lunch or dinner at the Hellfire Club."

"I nearly had to take a bus the other day. Harrowing. Narrowly avoided it." Harry smiled to himself, thinking what a posh little high-maintenance princess she was, even moreso than the supermodels he found so very, very fuckable but ultimately exhausting. Still, she was a useful connection, and extremely entertaining, so he wasn't complaining.

When Harry complained, he tended to do it aloud. Very loud.

"Let's," he said, scooping up her sandwich and placing it on a plate to rest for a moment. He set himself to putting together a second one. "I haven't been in years; past time to reacquaint myself with it, and--well, like you said. There's no better company."

"It has quickly become my favorite place to dine in the city," she explained. "The privacy and exclusivity of it cannot be matched anywhere, I've found. The food, of course, is spectacular and the wine cellar unmatched." Yes, they were both underage but the Club tended to overlook certain things when it came to the offspring of men like Tywin Lannister.

Cersei glanced down at the dish but did not pick at it as it cooled. "And I promise, no bus."

"Well, you've just named more than a few of my favorite things," Harry allowed with another small hint of a smile over his shoulder. "Name the date, and I'm all yours.

"You can probably start on the sandwich," he added, putting the second one on the skillet.

"I would not want to be rude and eat without you," Cersei answered, complete with a regal tilt of her head. "I can wait. As for our trip to the city, how about tomorrow or later this week? I have so few plans this summer, whatever works best for you will be more than agreeable."

"Let's make a night of it; how about Friday?" he suggested easily. Not really asking her on a date, but certainly leaving it open-ended. "I could use some more real time in the City."

Another smile spread across the Monegasque's face, making her green eyes sparkle. "That sounds delightful. I would love to take you around. Would you just like to do dinner and a tour or should I arrange tickets for a show as well?"

"You get the tickets, I'll take care of the car?" Harry offered. He had no doubt that Cersei wouldn't drag him to something miserable, anyhow, and even if she did, the people-watching and champagne would still be there.

"Then it is a date," she chuckled warmly. He was certainly one of the more acceptable males at the school; he would be good company. "I shall see what is playing. Correct me if I am wrong but, I assume you would prefer something more along the lines of Shakespeare than a musical?"

"Depending on the musical, but that's a good bet." Harry smirked a little. "If you're into opera, you've found the way to my cold, black heart. As long as it's not Wagner."

"I will keep that in mind while I make my calls." Opera would be perfect. She quite enjoyed them herself. "You may want to flip your sandwich unless you'd like to burn the bread."

"You're just so damn distracting," Harry said with a smile--and did as she suggested.

"I will take that as a compliment, Harry," came the purr of a chuckle and one hand brushed against his arm as she reached for her own plate to carry it to the nearby table.