The Real Struggle: Life in General.

[Stern]

Michael Stern had nothing planned. There were as yet no leads on finding Neutron. Anita had accepted his return with some enthusiasm and though she was still apprehensive about touching him, he could tell she wasn't repulsed by his sudden aggressive demeanor and somewhat disfigured features.

Since his return he had been eating three meals a day, which was nice. Not having to steal food where he could was helpful. He was nearly alive again--at least legally. But the more he thought about it, the more he started to wonder if that was something he really wanted.

Stern was, in a word, uncomfortable with normal life. He hated his exile and the constant wondering, but in the three weeks he had been gone, he found he had gotten quite used to watching his back and fighting for his survival. It hadn't escaped his notice that he was tending to react to nearly everyone he met with some hostility. Nearly everyone he came across, even the ones sitting on the bus diligently not paying attention to the mutant in their midst, fell under his gaze and got sized up in case Stern found himself suddenly having to fight them all off.

Alive? That meant money. It meant being taxed by the government, hounded by loan companies for the money he lent on an education he was not going to be able to complete, and it meant a normal, every day life. He wasn't sure he wanted it.

"AAAARGH!" He roared.

At home he spent most of his time in his room trying to keep away from his parents. They only wanted to spend time with their long lost son. His mother informed him that they had his funeral for him a week and a half before he came back and that he should visit his own gravestone in the parish cemetery. She also suggested he visit Father, who had inquired about him over the past few weeks.

He didn't want to. The person he was then no longer factored in to anything he did now. He didn't want the reminders. Fed up with the inactivity and the idle boiling rage in his chest, Stern decided to get out of the house before the burned the whole place down.

Light broke forth in an intense blast and he suddenly found himself somewhere else. He was at church.

[Anita Stern]

Mapping out the lessons to come ahead of time (a few months, to be more or less precise) was never easy. Trying to predict what her students might be like - would the class even get along, would the material grab their interest, would they even care? - was rather impossible. She knew some of the students that would be enrolling under her tutelage, but there was always the possibility of new enrollments. Always the fear of a young woman or man rejecting her attempts to cultivate their minds. It was a bit stressful, but she had always managed.

Then there was Michael. He was something she hadn't been expecting, not at all. She hadn't even been looking for what being around him brought to the table, but despite all that, she found herself more and more wanting just what she hadn't planned. It was hard to let go of control of every little facet of her life, to stop micro-managing, but this man - this younger man, with all his own problems - had somehow managed to get to her, and make her uncurl from her safe little ball, and really try to participate in the world that was going to take her or leave her. It was her choice to step up, and without him, she was sure it would never have happened. And there was more.

He wanted her. She could tell. The hardest part was that he wanted to be with her, to touch her, and it was something that she was still very much unaccustomed to. Her walls were crumbling at the top, but it seemed like it would take a lot more time and effort for them to fall. It was frustrating, she wanted to be able to trust him, but the prospect of that was so frightening. It was scary to trust someone like that, and she didn't know what to do. It was something she wanted, too, but she was very uncertain, very afraid of what it might mean, what it might do to her.

And then there was her mother. That was a whole other can of worms.

"Why?" She was sitting at her desk in the Institute's library. Michael had been back for a little while now, and while she was happy with that, she had been trying to avoid him, but not look like she was avoiding him. "What is wrong with me?"

She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and tipped her head back, letting out a long and heavy, frustrated sigh.

"He's not going to hurt me. He's not going to... why is this so hard?"

It was at that moment that the phone rang. Removing herself from the distraught position she was in, she leaned over the space between her and the desk, and stretched for the wireless handset that was lying on its back near the edge of the cherry-finished piece of furniture. She grasped it by the antenna while it continued to ring loudly with a classic tone. Turning it around, she pressed the green 'answer call' button, and held it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Hello! Anita?"

Anita's brow furrowed. The voice seemed familiar, and it was taking a moment or two to place it, in the midst of her frustrations.

"Hi.... this is....?" She paused a moment, and then it came to her, suddenly. "Rochelle!"

Her mood brightened noticeably, but still restrained, with the realization.

"Hey! Yeah, it's me. How are you?"

Well, if that wasn't a loaded question...

"I'm fine, Rocky." She smiled feebly, at her own use of the old nickname. "How are you?"

"Great! Hey, I'm in the city for a few days, and I've got some time this afternoon. How's about you and me grab some java - or something stronger, if you would prefer? I'd like to catch up. It'd be good to see you."

The invitation made her smile a little more, and gave her a small amount of relief. It would be a welcome distraction.

"Sure, I'd like that. Where and when? I'm available."

[Stern]

Stern walked inside the church, through the vestibule and into the sanctuary. Well, technically the area with the pews was still the vestibule and the area with the altar was the sanctuary, but he didn't care a whole lot about the details.

He started to walk down the aisle but paused halfway. The figure of the crucified Christ hung in the front of the sanctuary. It looked at him from above the altar.

"What are you looking at?" Stern growled.

He turned away from the gigantic emaciated Christ. He turned away from that large face and toward the face of the priest. "Father," he said.

"Michael!" Father said. He was an old man with two hearing aids. The left one whistled nearly constantly and his right hand had a defect where he couldn't straighten out his middle finger to its fullest. Still, he was a priest and Stern figured a priest wouldn't need to do that anyway.

"Father, I hear you're a Monsignor now."

The old man nodded. "I haven't seen you at Mass recently."

Stern hung his head for a second and turned a little brighter with embarrassment. "Yeah. I've not been having a good couple weeks back."

The old man nodded. There was no judgment for missing Mass. The old man smiled and walked over. "Come on, let's go for a walk around the parish. You can tell me all about it."

Stern walked out of the sanctuary with his priest. They took a bit of time to reflect before Stern started.

"Father, there's a man out there that I hate. He blew up the ESU commencement ceremony. I wound up halfway across the world. Got written up as being dead while I traveled across the Middle East and Europe. Got beaten to a pulp."

Father nodded.

"He blew them all up for no reason. And he blew up my life."

Father nodded again. "I see. Did you like that life?"

Stern kicked at the ground. "Not really. I had no direction. The only good thing about it really was this girl I met. But that's a whole new can of worms."

Father adjusted his whistling hearing aid. "Your life has direction now, though."

Stern nodded. "Revenge isn't a good direction for life, sir. And the direction I have now, I'm not sure if I want it. I might have a job lined up with the police and there's the girl."

"Michael," Father said, "There is nothing shameful in bringing a villain to justice."

Stern nodded and turned the corner.

[Anita Stern]

"So Rich is like 'I don't care about your freak ass, bitch!' and he's gone."

Rocky sighed and frowned into her coffee, sipping it, suddenly wishing that there were some Kahlua or something else suitably alcoholic in her cup that would mélange well with the otherwise black and bitter liquid. Life as of late hadn't been good to the auburn haired reporter. Anita smiled pityingly, her own two hands cupped around a similar ceramic vessel of bean-derived stimulant. She too, took it black - and no decaf, ever. It wasn't only the caffeine that provided stimulus for her, but the bitter taste that was hard to ignore. Not disgustingly bitter, but just enough that it was still appreciable.

"I understand now why you wanted to see me, Rocky. I..." Anita was cut off by her friend looking up from her cup, looking very nearly as if she might cry. The petite librarian furrowed her brow and lowered her cup from which she had been about to take another drink. "What's the matter?"

Rocky forced a feeble smile, pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut. "It's nothing... nothing. Could we just... uhm... talk about something else? How are you doing?"

That question. As of late, even simple little questions that usually were just part of greeting in passing seemed pretty loaded for her to answer. But given the share of personal information that Rochelle had given, Anita felt as if she couldn't avoid being at least mostly truthful. And Rocky had always been a good friend and the one that suspected, confronted, confirmed and accepted Anita's mutant status. Nobody else knew and for Anita's sake, she had given her word to keep it that way all through university.

"Oh, well..." Anita started, stirring her coffee with a stainless steel spoon. "...summer's pretty quiet at the Institute. I've been going nuts without most of the students around. Half the staff isn't there either. Personal stuff, you know? And mum hasn't emailed me in a couple weeks. It's strange."

The fair-featured mutant paused to sip from her cup. A nervous blush began creeping up her cheeks as her nose and mouth disappeared behind the cup. Rocky sniffled, eyed her friend a moment, then let out a half a giggle. Anita stared at the other woman over the ceramic, swallowed, then lowered it and smiled sheepishly, blushing more. Rocky looked as if she was ready to start an inquisition. She angled a finger to indicate Anita's face. "What's that?"

Anita shook her head, ending it with staring out the window of the little café, then turning in her seat to face the outside completely. "Nothing."

Another wipe at her nose with a proper kerchief (because Rochelle was that kind of woman with frilly little indulgences), Rocky leaned forward over the table and planted her elbows on it. "Out with it."

Anita sort of barely turned her head, just enough to look at her friend out of the corner of her eye, then turned back to the people-watching, sipping nonchalantly at her coffee. A sly grin slipped onto Rocky's tanned face. "It's a man, isn't it?"

The mutant librarian sputtered, coffee seeming as if it would come out her fine nose. She swirled around in her seat, back to her friend. Her words were almost stern, but mostly embarrassed. "Did you have to do that?"

Rocky blinked, assuming an innocent profile. "Do what?"

Anita rolled her eyes, sighed and laughed a little, mostly to herself. "Fine. You got me."

Her friend acted shocked, but perhaps a little pleased, mostly with herself. Then she winked at Anita. "About time."

The shorter of the two, Anita relaxed back into the comfortable chair and smiled, looking out the window again. "Yeah, I guess so."

This time, it was Rocky's turn for a brow-furrowing. She finished off the cup, placed it quietly on the table and tucked a few auburn strands behind her right ear. "Spill, darlin'. Tell me."

[Stern]

The cemetery came close into view.

Father scratched at his chin. "Well, tell me about this girl."

Stern shrugged. "She's a pretty girl with brown curly hair. She's a mutant, like me. She works at Cullens as a librarian. Her name is Anita."

They reached the cemetery at last. "Which one is mine?"

Father led the young man around the tombstones. "What's Anita's gift?"

Stern rolled his shoulders. "She can read a person's mind by touching them. It's skin on skin contact. She can't really turn it off. She also can tell an object's history and stuff by touch."

"But that's the problem!" Stern said. "Whenever I touch her she's going to tell my anger is there. Even if I push it into the back of my mind, she'll know it's there. I can't be anything but totally honest with her and if there's any darkness in me I would rather she not see, she'll find it anyway and all she has to do is brush her fingers against my cheek."

Stern hardly noticed that they had stopped. "I just don't know if I can be that strong person she needs from me."

Stern looked at the polished granite stone. "Michael Stern. 1984-2008. A light in the darkness. There's an engraving of a sun on there."

The monsignor nodded. "It was a beautiful ceremony. Have your parents said what they're going to do about this tombstone?"

Stern shrugged. "I'd like to keep it. It's a good reminder."

[Anita Stern]

“It… really doesn’t have anything to do with Dan.” Anita shook her head, toying idly with the hem of the lightly pleated knee-length skirt she wore, then reaching down further to twirl the ends of the laces on her knee-high boots around her fingers, half her attention on the people walking by, the remainder on the meandering conversation. “I… you know I was a wreck after that. The way he was, I couldn’t bear to be close…”
<o></o>
Anita sighed, sitting up again, sliding her hands up onto her skirt-covered thigh, legs crossed. The sun was warm, coming through the window, but the tone of her words, the feeling within wasn’t as kindly. Thinking on those things in the past was hard and it wasn’t intentional that she did it. Minds wander, even hers.
<o></o>
“… I couldn’t get close to anyone. I hid inside myself. No touching, even with the gloves to put a barrier between my powers and others. Sometimes, sometimes it just wasn’t enough. It was too much to trust that anyone could be like Daniel was inside. And even with all that, sometimes there’s just nothing that can keep my abilities from getting through. I can pick up through transference, Rocky.”
<o></o>
She didn’t look at her friend, one elbow now planted on the table, her chin sat in her hand. “And Michael… That’s his name… he’s just… Well, I wasn’t even looking and it’s like he was just dropped out of the sky on me.”
<o></o>
Anita smiled to herself, then. Because though it wasn’t how they had first met, it had happened, and it was like meeting him all over again. The fact was, he was different now. That did little to change what she felt and thought, however.
<o></o>
“He’s coaxed me out of my shell, started making me want to be some semblance of normal again. I can’t hide forever, Rocky. I can’t. I think of it now, and it was making my life stagnant. The same, day in, day out. Nothing really new. Things would change all around me and I would resist.”
<o></o>
The whole time, Rocky had been listening, nodding, not offering a word. It was then she smiled and spoke. “You’re too young to be acting all old and crotchety and resistant to change. That’s not the Anita I know, anyway.”
<o></o>
Anita nodded and smiled. “Thanks.”
<o></o>
Rocky grinned. “So tell me about him. Come on, I’m not going to let you avoid the subject and you know it.”<o></o>

[Stern]

Stern squatted down in front of the tombstone and looked at it more closely. He touched it and traced his finger around the sun. "Father," he said, "the fact is that there is darkness in me. I love to hurt people I hate. I don't like fighting fair. I will do anything to win. It makes me enemies, Father."

Stern stood up again, but couldn't take his eyes off that grave marker. "That is just too surreal. I could stare at it till the sun goes down and not quite fathom it's there."

He turned to look at the old man. "I have enemies. Enemies that would kill me on sight if they could. I have had enormous fights and I'm covered in scratches and scars."

The priest nodded. "Yes, that happens when we do what's right. We often times come out hurt because we stick our necks out for people or make ourselves vulnerable."

Stern ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, Father, but Anita doesn't want to be vulnerable. She's been hurt before by reading minds with her gift and she won't even touch me. She's afraid to be open and I'm standing around trying to be available and patient and still be open."

He sighed. "Sir, I think I might be the happiest man alive if she only offered to let me hold her bare hand."

Father smiled and chuckled. "I'm sure she'll come around. Sometimes it takes someone brave and strong to help us in our timidness and meekness. And she sounds very timid and meek. Just keep being nice to her and she'll soon see she can rely on you to be there for her."

Stern put his hands behind his head. "I hope so, Father. I really like her and I just want to be around her. She's soft-spoken, she's caring, she's smart, and gentle. As much as I want to, I'm almost afraid to touch her because she looks just so fragile sometimes."

Father nodded. "Come on, Michael. Let's get that confession over."

They headed back towards the church and the confessional.

[Anita Stern]

“Fine, fine.” She sighed, although the thought of him was a mixture of happiness, uncertainty and mild fear – no where near wistful sadness or anything of the like. Anita attempted to focus her attention fully back to her old university friend and not get distracted by the carousel of variety of persons passing by – a distraction with intent, its purpose to avoid the question. However, she knew Rocky well enough. If the girl wanted answers, she could weasel them out of anybody with almost minimal effort. Quite persuasive.
<o></o>
The petite mutant librarian adjusted her position, crossing her legs just so and smoothing the lines from her skirt before taking up the coffee mug again and idly running one long, thin finger around the rim of the ceramic vessel.
<o></o>
“He’s quite nice.” She started, eyes downcast to the turning finger, not really watching anything in particular. The words hung in the air for a moment until she smiled to herself about something and lifted her eyes to send her gaze across the table again. “Wonderful, really. Certainly not the same as Dan and younger, to boot.”
<o></o>
Rocky showed a look of surprise on her face. Anita stuck a bit of tongue out at her and made a face. “Not that young, you deviant woman.”
<o></o>
Rochelle laughed and Anita with the curls daintily waved her off with the mildest touch of disdain. Rocky settled down and leaned in for further listening.
<o></o>
“That piece of information really isn’t a factor here. He has this maturity about him that’s quite refreshing considering I deal with kids only so much younger than him that… Well, anyway, he just seems to be able to get to me, you know? He makes me relax, makes me feel safe. It’s… I don’t know. He’s disappeared, too… but he came back, he came back for me. He wants so much to be around me, I can tell. He wants all those things, the hand-holding, the hugs…. I just… I can’t give him that.”
<o></o>
Rocky got a strange look on her face. “Why not?”
<o></o>
Anita let out a lightly frustrated sigh. “I… just…”
<o></o>
“Do you trust him?” Rocky asked.
<o></o>
The fair mutant remained silent. Did she trust him? Did she have any reason not to? Had she ever not trusted him?
<o></o>
Rocky reached a hand over and took one of Anita’s hands into her own. “Anita… do you?”
<o></o>
Anita realized she’d been holding her breath in thought and let it out in that instant, breathing out a long “Yes.”
<o></o>
“Then what’s the problem?”

“Please let go of my hand, Rocky.” The expression on her face was pained. Rocky promptly released her friend’s hand and everything clicked.
<o></o>
“I see. What’s stopping you? You trust him, don’t you? He wouldn’t hurt you, would he?”
<o></o>
Anita shook her head. “He’s made me want to deal with my gift and improve on it like everyone else instead of hiding from it. His mind… it isn’t so full of those… things. It’s just that I can’t touch him. Can’t let him touch me without some sort of veil over my powers. It’s… it’s too much.”
<o></o>
“Well, it’s not going to become normal and bearable if you don’t swallow that and deal with it, girl. And stop avoiding him.”
<o></o>
Anita blinked. “What?”
<o></o>
Rocky grinned a little. “You think I don’t know you? Christ, ‘Nita, we went through something similar about Dan, remember? I know it’s not the exact same, cut and dried thing. You’ll get over this. You just have to trust him and show him that you do. Show him you care. Let him know just how you feel.”
<o></o>
Anita’s face had turned into a palette of blushes. “Rocky…” She murmured, somewhat embarrassed.
<o></o>
Anita’s friend reached over and gripped her shoulder, giving a little shake. “You’re still as cute as a button. I can see what he sees in you.”
<o></o>
“Um… thanks.” Anita murmured.
<o></o>
Rocky slapped her shoulder. “So what are you waiting for, then?”
<o></o>
Again, Anita blinked, doing a double take. “Excuse me? What am I waiting for… what?”<o></o>

[Stern]

Stern sat in the confessional, and with the Monsignor's help perused the last few months of his life and helped him to come to full reconciliation with Christ. The mutant felt better for confessing to his thieving to survive and the senseless fighting, and the rage he felt inside. Still, when he walked out of the church he knew his life was still going to rely on him to change.

"Michael," Father called to him from the entrance.

"Yes sir?"

The old man came out with a chain upon which hung a small medal. "It's a St. Michael. He is a mighty righteous warrior like yourself. Take him as your guide and ask for his help in prayer to our Lord and Saviour. You might find that you learn quite a bit from him about your current station in life."

Stern accepted the token with thanks and put it around his neck. He hugged the old priest briefly and watched the elder walk back inside. Alone at last standing on the sidewalk he reached into a pocket for his new cell phone to check the time.

"I wonder what Anita's up to?" He asked himself. "Do I even have her phone number?"

[Anita Stern]

"You really are clueless, aren't you?" Rochelle quipped

Anita sighed. She just didn't want to admit it. How could she do that with no closure from Daniel? The most ridiculous part of her thinking and acting this way was that it had been long enough and she was already in this new potential/already-happening relationship with a wonderful man. He'd been nothing but the best to her he could be considering everything that had happened in the only so many months since they'd met. Then, it made her wonder if maybe her acting withdrawn would not sit well with him. It'd seem like she was leading him on or worse. It'd been long enough. She'd have to decide.

"No, not clueless. Just... hard to let go." She admitted, finally.

Rocky sat back in her seat and folded her arms, drumming fingers on one elbow, eying her friend somewhat critically. "It's been long enough, Anita. I don't think you'll ever see or hear from Daniel Hartford again. Yes, I know what you guys had (I admit a little jealousy at that) and I know what you went through and... the point is, you have to let go of the past. Besides, something in you must want this, because here you are worrying over it. You have feelings for him..."

"I know. Don't you think I know this?" Anita cut her friend off, rubbed both hands over her face, then through her hair, tilting her head back. "Why can't this be any easier?"

"Because it's your heart, girl." Rocky said plainly, so matter-of-fact. "Things like this should be weighed carefully... Maybe I should be taking my own advice."

Anita managed to smile a little. "Alright, alright. I give. You're right."

Rocky laughed and continued. "D'ya think, maybe... is he doing anything today?"

Anita shook her head, dipping a hand blindly into her bag to retrieve her cellphone to look at the time. Her Blackberry Pearl was quite a useful tool, but she'd been eying the upcoming Storm with interest. "I don't know."

"Why don't you try calling him? See what he's up to?" Rocky suggested.

Anita nodded, scrolling through the phone book. "To think he got a new phone recently and I haven't even tried calling him yet. Haven't even tried a message."

Rocky half-smiled. "Shame on you. You're like... the only girl I know that doesn't send like... a billion texts a day."

It was Anita's turn to give Rocky a critical look. "Do I look like a teenage girl to you?"

"Sometimes."

"Hey!" Anita exclaimed.

Rocky grinned, tucking a strand of hair out of the way and licking her lips. "Shush, you." She waved Anita's momentary frown off. "Call him already. Text him. Whatever."

Anita rolled her eyes and smiled, then stuck out her tongue. "Yes, mother."

[Stern]

The phone rang in his hand as he was about to open his contacts list. Anita's name appeared on the screen. He did have her number. His heart skipped a beat for a second and he smiled. She was calling him for once.

"Michael Stern speaking," he said with the phone next to his ear.

Stern never answered the phone with a hello. It was a habit he acquired answering the phone at his parents' house. Inevitably someone wanted his parents, not him. So letting them know that Michael was answering the phone, not Matilda or Gerard, it saved him a lot of trouble.

"What's up?"

[Anita Stern]

She'd talked to him on the phone before. Several times, in fact, though he was the one usually making the call. However, she'd never felt quite this nervous. Rocky offered a gentle smile as Anita hit the send button and lifted the phone to her ear, waiting for the call to ring through. The first three words she heard made her smile a little and breathe out partial relief. There was nothing more nerve-wracking than trying to get something off your chest and meeting a wall like voicemail and having to go through collecting yourself and making the attempt to connect a second time, at a later time, in a different place and without encouragement. At the very least, she was glad to hear his voice in real time.

"Michael Stern speaking."

Anita slipped a glance to Rocky, then back at... nothing in particular, absently, nervously drumming her fingers on her thigh.

"Uhm... Hi." She let out, after a moment.

"What's up?"

"Oh..." She drew out, paused, then continued. "...out for coffee with a friend. How about you?"

Cripes, that sounded so ordinary. She thought, playing with her hair.

[Stern]

Stern nodded, though he knew she couldn't see him.

"That's good. I just paid my priest a visit. Saw my own tombstone. The usual adapting to being alive. I was wondering what you were up to today. In fact, I was just going to call you."

There was another pause. "It's good that you're getting to see your friend. You two just having coffee, or do you have other plans?"

Most of his college friends were dead, and he was pretty sure the rest wouldn't want to see him, even if he was actually still alive. Maybe if he could, he would be able to at least spend some time with Anita today. It would be nicer than the pointless emptiness he had been experiencing before.

[Anita Stern]

The fact that they'd both been thinking the same thing gave her a bit of the fuzzies. A small blush crept up her face and Rocky clamped a hand over her own mouth to stifle a laugh.

"No, not really. No plans. This was just impromptu... Rocky happened to be in town, but it's on business. She'll have other things to do." Anita turned her head slightly to give her friend a look. Rocky gave her a shooing gesture, as if to tell her to go do whatever she pleased. Anita smiled thankfully.

"I was actually calling you about that... wondering if you were, uhm, busy at all." Anita paused, nibbling at her lower lip a little. "I think it would be nice to see you, if that's alright."

[Stern]

Well! That was exciting! Anita wanted to see him. "I can be wherever you are in a second or less," he said.

He felt good. He had energy and confidence welled up inside him. Maybe things were going to finally start going right.

"Just tell me where you are, and there I'll be."

[Anita Stern]

That made her heart rate shoot up just a tiny bit.

Now? Right now? Anita looked at Rocky, lowering her cell and clamping a hand over the mouthpiece. She lowered her voice and leaned over the table.

"He wants to come over now."

Rocky leaned in, conspiratorially. "Right now?"

Anita nodded thoroughly and swallowed. Rocky grinned. "He means right now, right now."

"Where is he?"

"That's not important. He can be here in a flash, literally."

"Oh.... Oh! Another...?" Rocky's expression brightened a little. "Can I meet him?"

Anita nodded and lifted the phone to her ear again, not moving her other hand from the mouthpiece until after her next words.

"I don't think you'll be able to avoid it."

Well, that was the nature of his gift, wasn't it? Terribly convenient, most of the time.

"Michael. That would be great. I hope you don't mind meeting Rocky. We're at that café on the corner, the cute one with the brick and roses? I mentioned it to you before."

[Stern]

"Oh yes. It's your favorite place for that kind of thing."

Stern looked himself over in the window reflection. His hair shot up out of the top of his head like over-long grass and fell off his head to all sides. There was some stubble on his face. No time to fix that now. He had on his newest T-shirt that was also quickly becoming his favorite: a black T with the universal symbol for power. Combined with his black pants and sneakers, he thought he looked pretty good.

"I'll be there before you can put away your phone."

He shut the phone, ended the call, and in a burst of bright light appeared an instant later at the small table Anita shared with her friend. He smiled brightly, toned down his glow to accommodate the lighting of the little shop and extended a hand to Rocky.

"Michael Stern. You must be Rocky."

[Anita Stern]

Rocky nearly fell out of her seat when Michael appeared in a flash of light, but she recovered with an grace that went against the fact that she was not dressed for swiftness and accepted his handshake while Anita watched, smiling, calming from the startling effect his sudden appearance seemed to have on her.

"Rochelle Sigurdson." She replied, shaking his hand with a not-too firm grip, then continuing in a somewhat scandalous tone. "So how old are you?"

Anita's eyes snapped to Rocky's face. "Rochelle..." She spoke in a warning tone. "...that doesn't matter."

Rochelle replied in a light, laughing lilt, still keeping hold of Stern's hand. "Of course it does."

Anita turned her eyes to Michael, a pleading look on her face. "Don't mind Rocky. She's always been... a little forward."

Rocky released Michael's hand and stuck her tongue out at Anita, crossing her arms. Anita rolled her eyes.

[Stern]

Stern took most of it in stride. "It's ok. I'm 24."

The mutant shifted a little and looked around the cafe. "It's quaint. Very relaxed."

He looked back at the two women for a moment. "I'm going to go get something real quick."

Stern went over to the counter and ordered a medium hot chocolate. He never understood all the fancy lingo surrounding coffee, which is why he almost never drank it in public. It was much easier just to brew a pot at home and add milk and sugar as he liked when he poured his drink.

He also ordered a chocolate chip cookie for himself. That's when one employee came out with a tray of piping hot apfelstrudel. They were Anita's favorite, so he got one of those too.

He returned a moment later with two small plates: one with his cookie, and the other with Anita's pastry. He set them down at the table and grabbed a nearby vacant chair so he could sit.

"These just came out of the oven, so I thought I'd get you one," he said to the curly haired woman.

Stern broke off a chunk of his cookie and took a bite before resuming the regular conversation. "So, Rochelle, how did you and Anita meet?"

[Anita Stern]

Rochelle smiled and gladly dove into the subject.

"We went to university together. Dorm-mates and all that. It's hard to hide your secrets from someone you see so much of, so I found her out about her powers before she even told me. I mean, I was pretty unhappy that she thought it'd change my opinion of her, but I understood, y'know?"

Anita smiled and nodded, confirming the memory. "I was so relieved to find I had friends with this. Even with all the obvious anti-mutant opinion."

Rocky brushed hair back behind one ear and nodded slowly, cutting in after Anita stopped. "These days I understand exactly how you were feeling back then. It really takes going through it yourself to truly have a grasp."

Anita reached across the table and curled her fingers around her friend's hand, giving it a squeeze and looking Rocky in the face. "And you'll be alright, if I have anything to do with it. Anything I can do, even from a distance. What are friends for?"

Rocky smiled warmly. "Thanks, 'Nita." Then she looked at Stern, a renewed look, touched with mischievousness spreading over her face as she needled him with the intent in her eyes. "So.. how did you and Anita meet? I really wanna hear your side of it, your words."

Anita rolled her eyes. "Reporters." But she looked to Stern expectantly. Admittedly, she really wanted to hear him tell it herself.

[Stern]

"Well," Stern started. "She was taking care of some business at the ESU library late one night and I was was cutting through the back lot of the library to save myself some time getting back to my dorm room. I couldn't travel at the speed of light then. I was kind of nervous and in such a hurry I just plowed right into her. POW! and she was on the ground. I was so embarrassed I picked up all her books and took her to dinner."

He laughed. "We had breakfast and talked a while. It was good."

Stern sipped at the drink as best he could since it was still piping hot. "We traded e-mails for a while, and then I went missing. Then when I got back in the states I somehow wound up falling on her from the sky."

He looked over at Anita and though the goggles hid it, there was a certain affection in his gaze that he couldn't quite hide. She was really something and just being around her helped to take the edge off of the entire day. Even if she insisted on keeping her distance.

[Anita Stern]

Anita smiled at his words. Falling out of the sky, indeed.

"I felt a bit like Chicken Little until I saw it was you." She laughed, reaching over to touch his arm, then pulling back at the last second, out of reflex. She left her hand hanging there as she looked at Rochelle. "I was quite relieved. Michael had me worried enough for the both of us and then some."

The memory of his wounds, seeing them scattered about his torso made her jovial expression falter, then recover. All that, the reasons the scars were there... it made her a little uneasy, though she wouldn't admit it. It didn't matter in the face of the fact that she seemed to believe he wouldn't harm her. But still... Anita pulled her hand back fully and smiled, having to force it just a little. Rocky made like she was getting ready to leave.

"Oh, crap. Time really does fly, huh?" Rocky gave Anita and Stern a rather sheepish smile. "I'd better go or I'm going to be late for the meeting with my publisher."

Anita blinked, clearly like she was ready to protest, since she knew it was still a good hour at least until her friend would even have to think about leaving, but Rochelle just gave her that certain look the two had shared many a time in the past. Rocky's intuition had been something Anita was always thankful for, being much too accommodating to know when to ask for private time with someone else.

"Oh.. okay." Anita allowed. "Call me later, would you? I mean, only if you can. It'd be good to see you again before you have to leave."

Rocky smiled, slipping her purse over her shoulder and heading towards the exit. She stopped and turned to reply. "I'll try. Nice meeting you, Michael. See you guys later!"

And with a wave, she was gone. Anita let out a long breath and deflated a little, dropping her hand into her lap from returning her friend's wave. "Poor girl. She tries so hard to keep up appearances that everything in her world is alright."

[Stern]

"Kind of like you. A little like me."

Stern didn't want to sound accusatory right out of the gate. Still it was bothering him and he needed to know. He needed to know what she was thinking. He needed her to make up her mind. Heck, he needed her.

"Anita," he began. He took a deep breath. Words were not his thing anymore. But there was no bad guy to set on fire that would ease Anita's worry. There was no terrorist he could pummel into moving the anxiety from her shoulders.

"Thanks for calling me. I know it sounds dumb, or needy, but the fact that I now have in my phone history an incoming call from Anita Florence has really made my day."

He brightened a little in embarrassment. He felt so silly and vulnerable and childish and needy. Still, she was always keeping him just beyond arm's reach. He needed to be close, or he needed to be absent from her.

"I like talking to you. I'd like to just be with you more often, but you keep running away or avoiding me. But you're still around. Just distant. Like we're on opposite ends of a big chasm and I can't quite get to you."

He actually had experienced that nightmare--a few nights ago to be exact. She stood on the other side of a great chasm. He jumped out across the void and tried to make the light jump to her. Somehow not even the speed of light could get him to her.

"I just want to know what you're thinking. If this is something you really want--if I'm something you really want."

[Anita Stern]

Anita looked down at her hands, rubbed at her fingers, examined her palms, a fond smile creeping up on her face.

"If I'm evasive, it's not because I don't want you in my life." She spoke, finally, after several uncomfortable minutes of thought. "Because I do, so much that it scares me."

She lifted her head and tipped it back, staring at the uninteresting nothing that was the ceiling, as if the sun was up there in the paint, shining down on her face. Then she brought her head back down again, setting it straight, but not looking at him.

"I'm afraid, Michael... afraid what it will do to me if I give in and love you. Afraid it will only be a matter of time before you vanish too. Permanently. I lost myself so badly after Daniel that if it happened again, I don't think I could survive through it."

An awkward moment, then two, then three passed before she spoke again. An uneasy laugh tripped out of her lips. "Mind not my foolish, fragile heart Michael Stern. I'd be lost without you, whether you were alive or not."

[Stern]

Fear. Fear of the past, fear of the future. Fear of now. The past had already happened. Really, it shouldn't count. For some it did though. Fear of the future made no sense because who really knew about the future? Fear of the present made most sense.

"Ok, I'm going to say a cliched line. I'm not that guy. I can reach you from any point in the world in a microsecond. Now that I have control of my light jumping ability, the only way I'll disappear from your life is if you throw me out, or if I die without warning. And believe me, after all I've been through I think I've earned my right to die at age 93 in a hospital bed surrounded by great-great-grandchildren."

He smiled at the thought. Not the dying part, but the great-great-grandchildren part.

"So here it is. No more games. No more avoidance. I want you. I care about you a lot. I got fear and anxiety about you like you wouldn't dream. In fact, I just finished talking to my priest about it. I got anger. And I got a lot of darkness in me. I told you about those men I killed in Pakistan. You saw the man who tried to murder me in the London sewer when I touched you at the hospital."

He took a sip of hot chocolate--now merely warm chocolate--to gather his thoughts. "These things are always in the back of my head. They're things I'll carry with me for the rest of my life. I'll see someone on the news or I'll hear something and it'll make me think of Aslan, the guy who blew up my univeristy, and it's going to tick me off. It might happen without cause and suddenly we'll be holding hands. You'll get overwhelmed with my rage. I worry about that. I'm afraid that one day if we ever get to a point where we share a bed, I'll have nightmares and frighten you."

He took a deep breath and reached across the table to offer her his hand. "Still, it's something I'm willing to face down and control. I'm willing to be open and honest with you 100% because there's no way to avoid it. You won't get many surprise birthdays from me because as soon as I'm careful about touching you, you'll know. But there won't be a single thing you'll find out from me by your powers that I won't tell you straight up before you put one delicate finger on me."

He sipped the chocolate. It was still warm, but was getting closer to room temperature. "I'm willing to face my fear of inadequacy. I'm not so afraid of losing you that I won't try to have you. So I'm going to do that. I'm going to fight my fear and try to be there for you."

[Anita Stern]

She listened to him speak, with rapt attention, as if every word meant everything. In a sense, every word was just that: a backing, a culmination to decision, woven through with the feeling that if she didn't make up her mind now, then she might never do so and anything that was between her and Michael Stern would surely be crushed under the weight of uncertainty and indecision. She saw so clearly now, that the path of greater risk was also the most desired, the one holding the most of freedom and joy.<o></o>
<o></o>
“Allow me to say something that I hope never goes out of style...”<o></o>
<o></o>
She took his hand and walled off his thoughts. She found that hearing, now, was by far much better than just knowing. It had the benefit of an air of mystery, leading to curiosity. She had not truly felt unknowing in contact with another in so long that she was becoming grateful for the control she was learning to exert over her gift at a greater measure, day by day. Sitting there, holding on to him with both hands now, she looked at him. He was a face she had memorized by sight, every facet, the placement of his hairline, the measure of distance between his eyes when she had tried so hard not to meet them. It was something, now, that she couldn't avoid - one of several things.<o></o><o></o>

“...I love you, Michael. If nothing else is certain, you can be certain of that.” She said, an admission followed by a breath held and released, nearly sucking all the air out of her. She brought herself to look where his eyes should be, obscured by the protective covering that allowed him to tolerate daylight, any light at all. Her eyes scanned over his face, searching for a reaction. <o></o>
<o></o>
“There, I said it. I said it. The cat’s out of the bag and the weight is off my chest and I’m afraid I can’t take it back because it’d either scratch me or crush me.” Anita amended, with a slightly shaky laugh. She felt nervous from all those words and tried to yank her hands free without a conscious thought to the act, but the one was held firm by him and just as soon as she had attempted, she relented. These impulses, too, would have to be overcome.<o></o>

[Stern]

Stern sat still as she spoke. He didn't move, and his face was still. When she finished he smiled. "I love you too."

He held her hand for a while, rubbing it between his own. Time hung still and he enjoyed the moment. He had her love. There wasn't much more he could think of he needed. Maybe being alive again wouldn't be so bad. Then he had an idea.

"Come on, Anita. Let's go. I got a good way we could spend the afternoon. We just need to go get my family's picnic blanket and one of your favorite books." He stood up, still holding her hand. He gave it a tug and flashed her a mischievous smile. "I think you'll like it."

[Anita Stern]

Anita stood at his urging, an enjoying smile having already crept into place on her face. She wondered at what Michael had in mind... though she could certainly imagine what it wasn't. <o></o>She allowed herself to be pulled along for the first couple feet before catching herself up to walk beside him as they made to leave.
<o></o>
“Oh really?”<o> Her voice sounded a tad bemused. Her smile tipped to one side, cozying up at one corner of her mouth, an apparent return to the mischievousness of his. "Are you absolutely positive that I'll derive any enjoyment at all from whatever is concocting itself in that head of yours?"

It resulted in a surprised intake of breath from her, followed by a dawning realization that she might already be enjoying herself and a lilting laugh chased afterwords. It had been a few years since she had even remotely flirted with a man by speech, let alone any way at all. Her relationship with Michael Stern thus far had an almost innocent quality to it, perhaps even archaic in its touches of chivalry. She still found herself nervous, but was also considering the thought of beating that feeling over the head with the nearest solid and portable object. Anita wanted to be happy, oppositions be damned!
</o>

[Stern]

Stern tugged her hand so she drew closer to him and bumped gently into his side.

"I think it will be the best afternoon you've had in a long long time."

They reached Anita's car. It was starting to be a well-recognized thing to him. He took her other hand and turned her to face him. "Now, go pick out a book. Any book you like. I need to go get a few things. Shouldn't be more than half an hour. Then I want you to meet me out in the park by the fountain. Ok?"

Stern smiled. "You're beautiful." One quick kiss on the forehead and then he was gone in a flash of light.

[Anita Stern]

Just like that, he was gone. The thing still surprised her, every time. It was quite something to get used to, having a flash-vanishing boyfriend. She giggled with that thought, the sound having a slightly delirious quality to it as she unlocked the Mini and ducked in to the driver's seat, closing the door behind her and buckling in. She let out a long breath, a happy smile rather evident on her face.

She checked herself in the rear-view mirror, more looking at her face than anything. Yes, that smile was quite real. She laughed and settled back in her seat, sticking the key in the ignition and switching it on.

One half hour. The fountain in the park. A book. Michael Stern.

She wondered what he was up to.

[Stern]

Stern moved about the city at sub-light speeds. He couldn't carry things with him when he traveled by way of his mutant powers. Getting the picnic blanket took the longest, since he had to leave town and return by car, but once that was done it was simple enough to get some bottled water and some strawberries and get to the fountain where he would wait for Anita to arrive with the book. Or maybe she would be waiting on him. He walked towards the fountain trying to see if he had beaten her to it.

[Anita Stern]

She'd went and grabbed a book. It hadn't been hard to find, once she thought and knew what it was. A book that had fond memories attached to it, dog-eared pages and a worn green hardback cover with the title golden and embossed, tarnished with age. It might have seemed far beyond for a woman of Anita's intelligence and love of truth to be so enamored with the fairy-tales of girlhood, but there it was.

Granted, they were definitely more of the Grimm's variety. That was half the book. The other half was Arthurian tales of dragons, wizards, knights, kings and more besides. All in all, none of it softened for young, fragile minds. Of all tales, these ones seemed true to their original telling.

On the edge of the stone-structured fountain she sat, legs together under the hem of her skirt which rode past her knees, whose knobbly-ness she had never quite come to appreciate (despite being told more than once in the past that they were cute knees - a thing she never understood from men) and the tome sat upon her lap, her hands rested on it, fingers curled over the edge closest to her knees. She appeared as if to be just watching the beautiful day go by, the people, the clouds, the light breeze through the trees, hearing the light roar of the fountain behind her and the laughter of children flying a kite or playing with the family dog, who yipped in excitement. Such poignant images tugged at a yearning, somewhere deep inside, that welled up into a sweet smile on her face and a distant something in her eyes that could spill out if she gave into it.

Instead, she looked away from all the joy, to curiosity that bled out from apprehension. From the opposite direction approached Michael Stern and it only served to make her smile more luminous. She watched him, waiting for him to see her.

[Stern]

Stern tried to keep his gait casual as he approached Anita. He offered her his hand and another smile. "Come on, I got a better place to sit."

They walked through the park hand in hand until Stern pointed to a shade tree out of the way of the path. That section of the park was quiet. He figured there would be a less likely chance of a frisbee or dog getting away from its owner and bothering them if they went there.

"Let's go over there."

He had to admit, it was nice getting to hold her hand. He kept expecting her to take it away from him at any moment. Each moment he got more excited, but a little more nervous. Then they reached the tree and he had to let her go. He laid out the blanket for her and offered her a place to sit on it in the shade.

"Now, we have something to eat if we want it, and a nice place for us to sit. With the book you brought, we can just--well..."

He decided to settle on showing her and sat down with his back against the tree and guided her to rest her back on his chest. Then he held the book out in front of her and looked at it from over her shoulder. "I hold the book and you turn the pages? We can take turns reading to each other if you like."

[Anita Stern]

She was getting used to this. Mostly because she was using a great deal of willpower to just hold on and not let go and over time it just became comfortable. She didn't know if that comfort extended to other people, but for her, this was enough. She trusted him enough. The impressions she got from him, holding his hand, it was a mixture. The nervousness and excitement was palpable and she could see his worry, his care, his caution. It helped her to hold on, then, for his sake. The least she could do.

She did love him, after all.

When he drew her in to sit with him, she couldn't help some hesitancy at the closeness he was implying as was her habit, but at the same time, she couldn't deny that she had thought about things like this, things more than this, so much more than this, more than once. More than twice or even three times. She'd have lost count, were she keeping it. She found him firm against her back. Strong, warm, comfortable. He felt safe.

Despite everything that was not at all safe about being with Michael Stern, he was just that, for her.

"That would be nice." Anita agreed, nudging for the book to be opened, feeling like she should tip her head back against him, the impression being there, but her intense consciousness always giving her pause. "Table of contents to decide or we randomly flip to a story? I know every tale in this book by heart and mind, so it's more for your benefit."