Author's note: Thank you to NotMarge and NicoleR85 for your reviews! Also, thank you to you silent readers out there who are giving this story a shot.

A Show of Appreciation

I finally learned her name almost two weeks later, on Tuesday.

She walked into the cafe that day with a guest- a little girl, who had to be only seven years old at the most. I deduced that they were related, if the platinum blonde color of the child's curly hair was any indication. It was the same shade as the older girl's hair in certain lights.

"Hi, Mr. Billy," the little girl said brightly. Her voice was chirpy, like a bird.

"Hello, Miss Olivia. Marceline, guess who's here?" Billy called out to the back, smiling broadly at the newcomers like a doting uncle.

"Who?" came a muffled female voice.

"Zoey brought in Miss Olivia to see us!"

Zoey, her name was Zoey. Finally, the object of my affection had a lovely name to match her perfect face. Not that I would actually use that information for anything, but it would still be nice to refer to her by name in my daydreams.

"Hi, Ms. Marcy!" Olivia, the little girl, called.

A middle-aged woman with a kind-looking face stepped out from the back- Marceline, obviously, looking very happy to see the child. The two shop owners came around the counter to greet the little girl while Zoey leaned against the counter out of the way, smiling that soft smile of hers.

"Oh, look at you! You get prettier by the day!" Marceline gushed, kneeling down for a hug. She spoke with a rather strong French accent.

"You're getting tall, kid," Billy noted, ruffling Olivia's curls good-naturedly.

"Are you going to want some brownies today?" the older woman asked. There was an almost mischievous-looking gleam in her eyes. For some reason that made me like her.

Olivia looked at Zoey hopefully for confirmation.

"That's the plan," Zoey laughed. "What kind of aunt would I be if I didn't send Livie back to her mom loaded with sugar?"

"Well, then. We aim to please!"

After some to-do, aunt and niece ended up in Zoey's usual table. Soon Olivia was coloring with crayons in a coloring book her aunt pulled from her aged book bag, and Zoey was reading from her genetics textbook again.

Zoey let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead after over an hour of reading. Her eyes swept the room, the way people sometimes do when they need a break from whatever they're thinking about.

I quickly stuck my face in the book I was pretending to read to hide my staring.

I wondered if Zoey was having difficulties with a certain subject. I imagined myself going over to her table, introducing myself, and asking if she needed some assistance.

And then my head would explode. I could never, ever be that brave. Especially considering what happened last time I spoke to her...

I glanced back over in time to see Zoey give her niece a fond smile and go back to concentrating on her textbook with renewed gusto.

"Daddy says you're never going to catch a man if you keep this college nonsense up," Olivia suddenly remarked in her chirpy little bird voice. She had been incredibly well-behaved thus far, despite the brownie she scarfed down earlier. Perhaps the sugar high would come later.

Her aunt froze. I surreptitiously watched as Zoey's expression become rather glacial. Her green eyes turned emerald-hard and her jaw tightened.

She was still pretty, even when she was angry.

"Maybe I'm not worried about catching a man, Livie," she said, after a short pause. "But why does your daddy think that?"

I didn't mean to listen to their conversation, but my hearing was so sensitive I couldn't help it. There were only four other people in the tiny shop, besides the owners themselves.

Add eavesdropping to my sins as well, I suppose.

"He says that boys don't like it when girls are smarter than them," the child replied simply.

Zoey snorted. Her mouth opened to say something, but she closed it quickly. Probably realizing that there were certain things an aunt should not say to her niece about her parents.

"Your daddy is entitled to his own opinion," she said finally, in a measured voice.

There was no other chance for their conversation to continue, because a curly-haired, platinum-blonde woman entered the shop at that moment. It could only be Zoey's sister, Olivia's mother. Her curls were much tighter than Zoey's gorgeous flame-like mane. It left me with the impression that this woman was perpetually frazzled.

"Livie, time to go darling," the woman said, catching sight of the pair by the window. "Thanks for watching her, Zoey."

"Any time, Chloe," her sister replied, with a half-hearted wave.

She seemed rather out-of-sorts now, having heard what her brother-in-law's opinion of her schooling was. I felt for her. It's not easy to be a constant disappointment to your relatives simply because of who you are.

Olivia gave her aunt a hug and a kiss, and Chloe patted her sister on the shoulder. Then they left, with the child chattering on and bouncing away at the speed of light. There's the sugar high I was expecting.

Apparently the good behavior was only reserved for Zoey. No wonder she'd told Billy that Olivia drove her mother crazy.

Zoey sank back in her chair once they were gone, looking disconsolate.

Apparently I hadn't been the only eavesdropper in the shop.

I'm not saying it excuses my behavior, but... ok, maybe I am.

"Mr. Grey is wrong, Zoey," Billy said, leaning on the counter to see her. She looked over at him, brow furrowed. "You're only just turning nineteen and you're already almost done with a doctorate in genetics. Your father would've been so proud of you. Any man will be lucky to have you."

That one little statement told me quite a bit, considering how eager I was to glean any information I could about her. Zoey was a child prodigy, a genius- and her area of study was the same as mine. And, sadly, it sounded like her father was dead.

She smiled at the man, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks, Billy."

By the next Tuesday it had been two months since I started going to Marceline's. It did not go unnoticed.

"Where is it that you've been going all this time?" Sean asked at dinner that night.

"A coffee shop in the village," I replied uneasily.

"Why though?"

"Charles wants me to get out more," I said, glancing over at my mentor with a reproachful glare.

He grinned broadly, my annoyance rolling off of him like water off a duck's back. Self-satisfied, meddlesome-

"What's so special about that place, though?" Alex pressed.

Uh oh. Do we really have to go into this right now? Let's just not talk about it.

My ears started getting hot, a sure sign that I was turning red in embarrassment.

He smirked. "Is there a girl there, Beast?"

I blushed even more fiercely. A silent confirmation. I would've welcomed an attack by the Brotherhood at that point, in order to avoid the teasing I knew was coming.

Sean crowed. "Beast has a girlfriend!"

"I do not," I retorted. "I've barely even spoken to her."

Oh, damnation. There I go, just making it worse.

The other two laughed heartily at my expense.

"Why don't you say something to her, Hank?" Charles asked gently. "You never know what could happen unless you try."

"You mean you've been going there all this time to just sit and watch her? Jesus, Beast," Alex snorted, shaking his head.

"Shut up, Havok," I snapped. I felt the shimmering heat pass over my limbs that warned me an attack was coming on.

"Enough," Charles ordered, when it looked like Alex was going to reply. He turned to me, looking quite serious. "You know, Hank, in a world that's gone mad, sometimes it's best to grab onto the chance at happiness and never let go."

He looked at Moira, sitting on his right, with love evident in his eyes. Not for the first time, I felt a spark of envy.

Men who preached nothing but compassion and love were getting shot by lunatics and there was rioting in several cities across the United States, but Charles and Moira had each other.

I wished I had someone like that.

Later that night I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to compare the clusters of spots I found there to a certain redheaded girl's freckles. I couldn't fall asleep, courtesy of the coffee and spongecake I'd had at Marceline's earlier.

And it didn't help that my mind was racing, whirling away at Charles' hokey words of wisdom.

"Say something to her," my mentor said.

I didn't think I was brave enough for that. Jumping off of buildings, facing down the Brotherhood and Friends of Humanity members was no problem. Just the thought of speaking to a beautiful woman, though, had me on the verge of an anxiety attack.

After all, Zoey was intelligent, and beautiful, and kind. What on earth would she want with someone like me- especially the real me?

But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if there was some way I could reach out to her anyway- without taking a big risk. A small baby-step that was better than simply watching her all the time and doing nothing about it.

And then it hit me. Zoey had people in her life telling her that no man would be interested in her, because she was too smart. Maybe I could show her otherwise...?