Logan stood in the pale moonlight of the garden, smoking one of his infrequent cigars. His thoughts were hundreds of miles away and he wished his body was, too. He took another puff and let the sounds of the night assault his ears, searching for things out of place. A small scrunch on the gravel behind him was his only warning. He took a whiff and confirmed who it was.
"You shouldn't be smoking. It's bad for you."
He turned and watched her perch on the garden bench behind him.
"You shouldn't be out of bed at this hour. Ten-year-olds need lots of sleep."
"It's the weekend. I can stay up a little late." Megan smiled, but only half-heartedly.
Logan frowned. Chuck had said that she had not really been herself since her last visit with her parents. Up to now, Logan had been too busy to check on her. He put out the cigar and threw it in a near-by urn.
"Logan? Can I ask you something?"
He sat beside her on the bench. "You just did."
She ignored that. "Why am I different?"
He thought about that for a moment. "Everybody's different in their own way. Are you talking about being a mutant?"
"Sort of. Mom and Dad took me to a picnic and there were friends of mine there from a couple of years ago. They didn't really want to play with me much 'cause I could do a lot of things they couldn't. I heard some of their parents whisper something about my eyes and my Dad got all red and we left."
Ah, he thought. "Did he say anything later?"
"Yeah. He said he was sorry we had to leave. He said he didn't mean to spoil my fun but he was mad at somebody and wanted to go before he said something that wouldn't be nice. Mom just sat there and nodded. I think she was upset, too."
"Your parents are pretty nice people," growled Logan as he imagined what had happened.
"Yeah, they are. I want to know though, why am I different?"
"Have you ever asked your mom and dad that?"
"Mom said God doesn't give anyone anything they can't handle and there might be a reason for me to be this way."
He grunted. "And you want a better answer than that, right?"
"Right."
He looked her straight in the eye. "I don't know."
She sighed. "You're no help."
"No one will ever be able to answer that question for you, squirt. Instead, why don't you try asking a different question?"
"What do you mean?" She lost the frown as her intrigue got the better of her.
"Well, you know you're different. Asking why isn't going to change that." He looked up at the sky. "Are all the stars up there the same?"
"No." She looked up. Because of her eyes, she could see very well in the dark and she could usually spot stars that others couldn't.
"Should they be?"
"No."
"Why?"
She looked at the sky for a long time and finally turned and looked him in the eye. "I think I get it. I can't answer that because they just are. Stars come in all shapes and sizes and colors and some have planets and some don't. Some are twins and some are alone. It's kind of like people, isn't it?"
"Yep."
"I guess you're right. I shouldn't worry so much about why I'm different, I should see that difference as being pretty special."
He never failed to be impressed with the way these kids grasped things. "It's not just that. You have some pretty neat gifts. Most people do. That's not what makes you special, though. It's what you choose to do with them that makes you special."
She eyed him suspiciously. "I've heard that before, haven't I?"
He nodded and grinned, watching as she racked her brains.
"I've got it! That's from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, isn't it? Dumbledore tells Harry that it's our choices, not our abilities that determine who we are."
"You are a pretty sharp cookie, you know that?"
"You read that?" Her surprise was evident.
"You said you wanted to try a Harry Potter bedtime story one of these days. I just thought I should be prepared."
She blushed happily at the thought of him doing that just for her. They sat there and looked at the stars again.
"So why are you out here?"
"Just thinking."
"Where's Rogue?"
"On a mission."
Megan was silent for a minute. "Why didn't you go?"
"It's her first mission. I didn't want her to think I didn't trust her to come back safely."
She snuggled up to him. "When I grow up, I want to go on missions to help people."
He grunted. "You do, huh?"
"Yeah. Maybe I'll even have somebody who'll wait out in a garden for me to come back, too."
He growled and she grinned as they sat there in the moonlight.
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Story Notes:
This just came into my head and I wrote it down. Who knows where these bunnies come from?