Author's note: Thank you to NotMarge, DeadlyThorn1997, and NicoleR85 for your reviews! Today Hank is a big fat eavesdropper, but he's adorable so we can forgive him for it, right? Please note that italics in quotation marks mean that the language being spoken is French. Italics without are just Hank's ever-present inner monologue. I hope you enjoying this story!

Olivia Grey

My new little routine hit a snag the next Tuesday. It wasn't Billy behind the counter, it was Marceline.

"Good afternoon," I said politely.

"Hello, there. How can I help you, mon cher?" Marceline asked.

"I'd like a small coffee and a piece of sponge cake, please," I replied.

She gave me a kind smile and set about fulfilling my order.

"Is Mr. Rivers ok, ma'am?" I blurted out.

Marceline looked startled, holding the sponge cake in a pair of tongs. "Yes, of course. My husband had a doctor's appointment today, is all. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering," I said quickly.

I pulled out my money and took a deep breath, not relishing the fact that my secret would be shared with Marceline. Billy was a safe bet now- I was sure he wouldn't tell on me. But I couldn't be sure about his wife.

"This is for mine and Zoey's," I told her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed- loudly. I winced. "So you're the secret admirer? No wonder you were wondering where Bill was, ha!"

I nodded, glancing around to make sure there weren't any interested parties nearby. "Yes, ma'am. Please don't tell Zoey?"

Marceline looked rather put out, which made my anxious. "Why don't you speak to her? I'm sure she would love to thank you in person," she coaxed.

I shook my head quickly.

"Well, fine," she huffed. Maybe she saw the panic in my eyes at the thought. "Bill said your name was Hank?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I won't tell," Marceline said, though it was obvious that it bothered her.

"Thank you," I told her, with obvious relief. "I appreciate it."

I took my coffee and sponge cake to my table to wait and pray that Marceline would keep her word about not telling Zoey who I was. I was here, among people, and reaching out in my awkward, clumsy way, but I was nowhere near ready to speak to her. I doubted I ever would be.

The object of my affection was a little late that day, and when she did arrive she had Olivia in tow.

"How's my favorite seven year old?" Marceline called from behind the counter, as soon as they walked in the door.

She immediately came around the counter for a hug, which the brown-eyed little girl ran to give her. Marceline swept the child up in a heartfelt embrace.

"Jeez, you'd think I'm chopped liver around here," Zoey griped good-naturedly. "I never get greeted like that."

"Don't be silly, Auntie, I love you too," Olivia retorted in that endearingly obtuse way only a child can have.

She ran over and hugged her aunt around her waist, nearly knocking her over.

"Ooph! Thanks, Livie," Zoey laughed, hugging her niece back.

"You're definitely better than chopped liver around here, Zoey," Marceline commented, once she was behind the counter again. Through my eyelashes I could see that she was looking quite mischievous and amused. "I met your secret admirer today."

"And you're telling me this because you're going to be nice and point him out...?" Zoey asked leadingly.

Oh no.

I almost looked up to see if Marceline was about to rat on me, but managed to stop myself at the last second. As it was, my entire body went rigid, like my subconscious was getting ready for me to make a run for it.

"No, of course not! I'm telling you because he bought your mocha again today, and he leaves such good tips there's no point in charging you for Livie's tea or brownies," Marceline said brightly.

"That's taking advantage of his kindness, and yours," Zoey argued.

"I'm sure he won't mind. He's a very generous and polite young man."

Marceline was right in one regard. I didn't mind. I wondered why she thought that of me, though. Had I made a good first impression on her and Billy?

"You're just making this worse for me," Zoey muttered, rubbing her forehead for a moment. She did that when she was vexed. "But thank you. And tell him thank you for me as well, please."

"What's going on?" Olivia asked, in a petulant tone. She was a precocious child, and didn't like being left out.

"Your auntie has a secret admirer. Uncle Billy and I know who it is but we won't tell her," Marceline explained, pushing the brownies towards the edge of the counter where Olivia could reach.

What happened next was very quick, and if I hadn't been so focused on the conversation, watching through my eyelashes, I would've missed it.

"I'll find out for you, Auntie," Olivia said, her hand reaching out for Marceline's.

Zoey's hand darted out and caught Olivia's before she could touch Marceline.

"What did I tell you about doing that, Livie?" she asked. Her voice was quiet and firm, but the musical quality of it kept her from sounding truly stern in my opinion. I might've been a little biased, though.

"It's stealing," Olivia replied, immediately contrite.

"That's right."

And then they resumed as if it hadn't happened, shaking off the incident quickly. Aunt and niece went to sit in their spot by the window, just like they had weeks ago.

"I'm going to tell Daddy you have a secret admirer," Olivia announced quietly, after half an hour or so.

"Oh? Why's that?" Zoey asked absently, chewing on a pen cap as she peered down at a cellular anatomy text.

"Because then he'll know that boys don't just like stupid girls," the child replied proudly.

Zoey had to cover her mouth with one hand to stifle her laugh. Her thin shoulders shook with mirth, but despite her efforts her muffled giggles were still audible.

It wouldn't hurt to look at her now, would it? I risked it- she looked so pretty with her eyes lit up like that, it made me smile.

Then I looked away quickly, before I got caught.

"You tell him that, Livie," Zoey finally composed herself enough to say.

Chloe Grey walked in at that point- Olivia's mother.

"Livie, darling, time to go," she said, walking over to their table. "How was she, Zoey?"

"An angel, like always," the proud aunt replied.

"I don't understand why she behaves so well for you," Chloe grumbled, watching Olivia put away her crayons.

Zoey shrugged. "We're kindred spirits, I suppose."

I caught their goodbyes out of the corner of my eye again. Zoey took Olivia's tiny hand in hers and looked into her eyes seriously. After several seconds the child nodded.

They're communicating telepathically.

It clicked for me then- Olivia was a mutant as well. From what I could see, she was a telepath that required tactile contact to read a person's thoughts. That's why she tried to touch Marceline to discover my identity. But while Zoey obviously knew, I wondered if her parents did?

"Good. Now give me a hug," Zoey told the little girl, smiling again. It was gladly given.

As soon as mother and daughter were gone though, the smile melted away. She put her elbows on the table and propped her head up with her fists, staring morosely at the formica surface of the tabletop.

Marceline moved in swiftly, holding two small cups on saucers, to sit in the now-vacant seat across from the young lady.

"Some cafe au lait for ma petit?" the older woman quietly offered, in French. I understood her perfectly, because I'd learned French on a lark a few years ago.

Thank goodness for too much time on my hands.

"Is this from you or from my secret admirer again?" Zoey replied, with a humorless laugh. She stared out the window, looking disconsolate.

"From me. Now talk to me, Zoey."

Zoey was quiet for a long moment. It was tempting to look at her full in the face again, but I resisted. It was difficult not to lean towards her, just so I could hear her clearer and soak up every word she uttered.

"I worry for Olivia," she said softly- so quiet that the other patrons couldn't hear, even if they understood French. "Her mutation... Chloe and Nick don't understand. They pretend it's not happening, that she overhears them speaking somehow and she's just very observant."

"Shouldn't Chloe know better, after what happened with you?"

"No. She only saw the parlor tricks, so it was easy to write off," Zoey replied.

A verbal confirmation of what my sense of smell had already told me weeks ago. Zoey really was a mutant.

I strained to hear more, ashamed of my eavesdropping but unable to stop myself. My ears automatically picked up the sound of her treasured voice.

"How can I tell a child to be proud of who she is when she has to hide such a big part of herself? When I do the same? I feel like a filthy hypocrite. And what's more, how can I protect Livie from her own powers? I can't imagine what it's like, to be able to hear people's thoughts with a touch. Finding love one day... what will she do?"

What, indeed? I empathized with Zoey for her obvious worry for Olivia. It was much the same as I saw dealt with at Xavier's every day-

Was there a way I could help her? I resolved to speak to Charles about the child, as soon as I could. Perhaps she could learn to control her tactile telepathy, with help.

The two women by the window might've spoken more, but I stood and left.

My mission was clear. I needed to speak to Charles.