Author's note: Thank you to Sam0728, NotMarge, NicoleR85, partygirl98, KEZZ 1, and Jinx of the 2nd Law for your reviews! Jinx, James and the Giant Peach was published in 1961. I had no idea either until I looked it up! I wanted to use Matilda but then I realized that wasn't published until 1988. I try to get historical facts right. The 101st (the division Zoey's dad and Billy were in) really was a critical part of the D-Day invasion in WWII, and the nickname "Screaming Eagles" is also correct. And all of the Aston Martin facts that Zoey rattled off to Alex were true. In this chapter, all the stuff Hank says is scientifically accurate. Because apparently, I have too much time on my hands.

Fireworks and Fireflies

The school emptied out onto the grounds once darkness began to fall. Younger mutants congregated in groups led by a responsible (or semi-responsible, in the case of Alex's group) adult to ensure no one was injured when the fireworks started to go off.

As the school doctor, I always got stuck running the first aid center just in case someone got hurt. I use the term "first aid center" loosely, because it was really just a blanket on the ground where I sat and waited with a bunch of bandages and burn cream for someone to need my help.

Having a bunch of children- especially mutant children- living together at this school meant there was always one injury or another to treat, but thankfully that wasn't too time-consuming. I still had plenty of time for my research and experiments, the work I truly enjoyed. Charles gave me free reign in the laboratory, allowing my mind to roam freely from genetics to biophysics to organic chemistry and back again. I was lucky to have such a generous mentor.

"Hey, you."

Zoey plopped down next to me on the blanket, interrupting my train of thought. She snuggled against my arm and gave me a heart-stopping smile.

"H-hi," I replied.

We'd been dating for a month and it still felt like a surprise sometimes when Zoey sat next to me or gave me a casual gesture of affection. It was as if for a moment I would forget my good fortune and wonder why on earth this angel paying me any attention at all. And then I would remember, and thank my lucky stars that she was mine.

"Where's Livie?" I asked curiously.

Zoey sighed and cast down her eyes. Her smile became a little forced and brittle.

"She said she wanted to go play with her friends now," she replied glumly.

Ouch. That's harsh.

I put my arm around Zoey's shoulders, trying to offer quiet support.

I couldn't think of anything to say in tenuous situations like this, when my first instinct was to approach the problem logically instead of with emotion. Pointing out that Zoey wanted Olivia to make friends, that her niece was growing up, didn't seem like a good idea when Zoey was feeling rejected.

People skills are still not my strong suit.

"I'm sorry," I offered.

"It's ok," she assured me, leaning up to kiss my jaw. "It's what I wanted for her, to have friends and be a normal seven-year-old little girl. And besides, now I can spend time with my boyfriend."

She smiled prettily, a hint of a blush on her cheeks, and I couldn't help grinning back. I leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss.

For a few minutes neither of us said anything as we watched the adults hand out morning glories to overly-excited children. Arguments over who got what color broke out here and there, but they were quickly put to rest.

Soon enough the terrace and basketball court were illuminated by swirling sparks of pink, teal, and yellow. In the distance I could hear soft explosions, and even see the occasional burst of color from neighboring areas convening their own Independence Day celebrations.

A warm, balmy dusk had settled heavily on Westchester County and was now rapidly slipping into full darkness. The humidity brought out fireflies. The way the little gleams of light floated in the air reminded me of the tiny fireball Zoey threw at Alex earlier in the Danger Room.

I chuckled aloud at the memory.

"What's so funny?" Zoey asked curiously.

"The fireflies," I replied, gesturing to a nearby luminescent insect. "They reminded me of that little fireball you threw at Alex earlier for calling you 'Sparky.'"

She snorted derisively. "He deserved that."

Her unapologetic reply made me laugh outright. Zoey had no sympathy whatsoever as far as Alex was concerned. I had a feeling it was because he teased me so much, and she wanted to pay him a little retribution for all those years of calling me "Bozo."

As if I needed another reason to love her.

"You really don't want me to go back in the Danger Room, do you?" Zoey asked, breaking into my affectionate musings.

Uh oh. I was rather hoping you forgot about that. Why, why did I bring that up?

My ears started to get hot, and my chuckles died away immediately. I had the vague notion that I was in trouble, so I removed my arm from around her shoulders.

"No," I reluctantly admitted. "I don't."

Zoey somehow managed to look offended and amused by my honesty at the same time. Her face was always so expressive- it was one of the reasons I enjoyed watching her at the cafe for so long.

"Try not to sugarcoat it, Dr. McCoy," she muttered disconsolately. "Why not?"

I don't want to go there. You're going to think I'm a sexist pig like your brother-in-law.

"I thought you didn't want to?" I asked, floundering.

"I don't," Zoey agreed. "But I want to know why you seemed so relieved that I don't. You said I did well-"

"You did," I said. "How'd you learn to throw so well, by the way?"

No, I'm not trying to change the subject. Me? Of course not.

"I was named the best left-handed pitcher in the state of New York in Little League for three years straight. And don't change the subject," she scolded. "Is it because I'm a girl?"

I winced.

"Yes," I replied in a small voice.

Her expression immediately became stormy and wounded, all trace of amusement gone.

Talk fast, McCoy.

"It's not because I don't think you're capable, or anything of that sort. I know you are, Zoey," I explained quickly. "I... Remember what I told you about feral mutants? The animal instincts?"

She nodded slightly.

"The stronger ones override my sense of reason. And my strongest instinct is to protect you," I told her. "Letting you put yourself in danger, even in a controlled environment, completely contradicts that. Seeing you get engulfed in flames..."

I trailed off, remembering the sensation of my heart ripping itself from my chest at the very idea that Zoey was hurt.

"Logically, I knew you would be ok, but I nearly had a heart attack anyway. So yes, I'm thankful you don't want to go back into the Danger Room or be an X-Man. That way you'll be safe."

Zoey let out a deep exhale and then bit her lip as she eyed me steadily, appraising my sincerity. I waited, hoping she wouldn't be angry. It's not like this protective streak was something I could help- it was hardwired into my DNA.

"I guess I can't be angry about that, then," she announced finally, to my deep relief. She punctuated her forgiveness with a kiss.

We were quiet for a few minutes, just observing the controlled chaos in front of us. The big fireworks hadn't started yet. Instead everyone was working through the smoke bombs, ground flowers, and snakes that came in the numerous packs of fireworks Sean and Alex had purchased. I spied a few kids throwing bang-snaps at each other and sighed. Just children being children.

Better get the burn cream ready.

"Did you know fireflies are actually beetles?" Zoey asked suddenly.

I glanced down and saw she'd caught a firefly in her hands somehow. I could see the blinking light through the cracks between her fingers as she peered in and looked at it.

"Yes. And their bioluminescence is due to an enzyme called luciferase and it's used for mating. The most common species around here is Photinus pyralis," I replied.

Did I just sound like a condescending know-it-all? I think I did. Damn. She made one comment and I answered with a biology lecture.

Zoey giggled, dispelling my fears. She always seemed to enjoy it when I told her facts that I found interesting, rather than feeling that I was patronizing her. I think it was because she loved learning new things just as much as I did.

"I love it when you talk nerdy to me," Zoey said, releasing the firefly.

My cheeks flamed in response, as always when she paid me a compliment. I couldn't even think of a reply.

"Love." She said "love."

She snuggled up against me and we settled down again, watching the fireworks that started only a few minutes later.

Well, Zoey watched them. I mostly just watched her, sitting with my arm around her again. Her eyes shown brightly with the reflection of the star bursts above us, a huge, joyful smile on her face. She looked absolutely radiant, this beautiful girl that I loved.

"I love you," I murmured quietly.

But she didn't hear me over the fireworks.

And I wasn't brave enough to say it louder.