Author's Note: Thank you to KEZZ 1, NotMarge, NicoleR85, partygirl98, Guest, and Jinx of the 2nd Law for your reviews! I had a lot of fun writing today's chapter, and I think you'll easily see why. If you don't smile at least once while reading this, I didn't do it right!

Also, I went through and gave names to all of my previous chapters. Usually I'm still half-asleep when I post, so that's why I haven't done it before. I'll try to be better about that. Thank you, everyone!

A Little Girl with a Mission

"Mr. Hank, I need your help," Olivia announced solemnly.

I blinked in surprise.

It was a week later, a Thursday, and I'd arrived in time for dinner at the Institute after spending a few hours with Zoey at the cafe. I was just on my way to my seat when Olivia accosted me at the entrance of the dining room with a very sober expression on her face.

"What's wrong, Livie?" I asked, feeling a tremor of worry as I knelt down to the ground to speak to her. She was such an energetic, happy child, it was unnerving to see her so serious.

What sort of issue would Olivia come to me with, rather than her teacher or Charles?

"Are you ok?"

"Auntie Zoey's birthday is on Saturday," Olivia explained earnestly. "I've been saving my pocket money to buy her a present, but I need a ride to the store. Could you help me?"

My emotions were in direct juxtaposition with each other at that moment. Relief that there was nothing wrong with Olivia. Horror that there was only a day until my girlfriend's birthday and I'd had no idea. Why hadn't she said anything? Why hadn't Billy or Marceline warned me?

I'd had an inkling that her birthday was coming up soon, sometime this month. In one of her letters to me, so long ago, she'd mentioned that her father had passed away last July. And Billy had said that Edward Dubois died a mere week after Zoey's eighteenth birthday.

And now it was here, and I was unprepared. But at least I still had time to do something for her, because of Olivia.

Thank goodness for little girls with big hearts.

"Of course," I agreed, thinking quickly.

Since it was summer, school got let out at noon. We would have plenty of time to go get presents if we went immediately after class.

"We'll go after school tomorrow and get Auntie Zoey a present. How does that sound?"

Olivia nodded eagerly. "Ok. Can we make her a cake, too?"

Great. Baking, such a manly activity.

"Sure, Livie. Whatever you want."

My mind was far away as I made my way to my seat for dinner, poring over possible gift ideas.

We'd been dating for a month and a half now. I needed to get her something that had the proper amount of affection without being too extravagant and over-the-top, or else I'd seem creepy.

Says the ex-borderline stalker. On second thought, maybe I shouldn't be worried?

"Hey, Beast," Sean greeted me as I took my seat. "What's up?"

"I'm just trying to think of a birthday gift for Zoey," I mumbled, still distracted.

"When's her birthday?"

"Saturday."

"Damn. Did you forget or something?" Sean asked.

"No," I replied, frowning. "No one told me."

"That's messed up. Women," Alex interjected, scoffing. "They expect us to be mind-readers."

Moira let out a pointed cough at that moment, letting Alex know she didn't particularly approve of that comment.

"Sorry, Moira. But you're actually married to a mind-reader," Alex pointed out. "So Charles just needs to twiddle his fingers and bam! He knows you want a new Mercedes for Christmas."

Touche, Alex. A valid point.

Moira tried to look annoyed, but couldn't hold the expression. She shared an amused glance with Charles. The kind of look that conveyed volumes, even if the spouses weren't telepaths.

"Just buy her some jewelry, Hank," Charles told me.

"Hey," Moira griped. "What makes you think she'd want jewelry?"

"Because, my dear," he replied, picking up her left hand- the hand where a two carat diamond wedding ring sparkled with conspicuous brightness. Charles brought her hand up to his lips for a kiss. "Women have a weakness for shiny things."

Moira rolled her eyes. "Maybe we can help you out, Hank," she said, changing the subject. "What sort of things does Zoey like doing?"

"Um... Reading, photography, spending time with her niece, beating me in epic Scrabble matches, watching Star Trek, painting her nails-"

Kissing me, cooking terrible-tasting food, drinking a lot of mochas and eating too much candy. She even likes Twinkies. My stars and garters, I love her.

Sean hooted with laughter. "She beats you at Scrabble?"

I nodded, slightly ashamed. "Only because we're not allowed to use scientific names," I added hastily, lest anyone think I was losing my edge. "And I always win at chess."

And that's why she doesn't like playing me at that game. Sore loser.

"Could you get her a new book?" Moira asked, back on point.

I shrugged. "I get her a new book every week."

"New camera?"

"She just bought herself one earlier this year. That's part of the problem- whenever Zoey wants something, she just buys it for herself," I explained, feeling disconsolate.

One of the downsides to having a rich girlfriend.

"Must be nice to be that loaded," Alex muttered.

As one, all of us- Moira included- turned to stare at Charles.

He chuckled and smiled genially, completely unfazed by our pointed looks.

"Just buy her some jewelry," he repeated.

My only reply was to groan and thump my head on the table.

Later I called Zoey to tell her I wouldn't be able to make it to see Star Trek with her the next night. It was a weekly ritual for her to watch the show every Friday- even the summer re-runs, because she adored the program.

I confess to being rather ambivalent about the show, though I was slowly warming to it. The story line was fine, but I found Captain Kirk's antics and speech patterns to be quite exasperating. And while I admired his intellect, every time Mr. Spock was on screen my hand would reflexively go up to rub my own eyebrows.

Do mine look like that? Ugh.

Zoey, of course, found this hilarious and would giggle madly whenever she caught me doing that. But then she would kiss me, and I'd forget all about my uncomfortable resemblance to Mr. Spock.

"I was just calling to say I can't make it tomorrow night," I told her, after exchanging pleasantries.

"Aw. Why not?" she asked. I could hear her pouting over the phone.

"I'm..."

Baking a cake for you with your niece. Pray that I survive, my love.

"I've got some work to finish up," I explained lamely.

"Oh. Ok," Zoey replied.

I knew she could tell I was lying, but she didn't press me further.

Maybe she suspected my absence was related to her birthday. It was tempting to ask her why she hadn't mentioned it, but Olivia had made it clear that all of this was a surprise, and I was a little afraid of attracting her wrath.

So I said nothing.

The next afternoon I found myself following a very determined seven-year-old as she stalked through the mall in Yonkers on a mission. We'd already been there for over an hour and there was no sign of Olivia slowing down.

"Livie, what exactly are we looking for?" I asked tentatively after she walked in and out of yet another store.

"The perfect present for Auntie," she replied, like it was obvious.

"Yes, but what does that look like?"

Olivia stamped her foot in an unexpected flash of petulance. "I don't know, Mr. Hank," she whined. "This is so hard!"

So is following you around aimlessly.

I knelt down in front of her. "Hey, it's ok. We'll figure it out, alright? No matter what, your Auntie is going to love whatever you get her because it's from you."

She nodded disconsolately.

I stood and offered her my hand. As she took it I spied a jewelry store. "Come on, Livie. I've got an idea."

The salesman raised his eyebrows when he saw us come in. Olivia and I must've made quite an odd pair- after all, we clearly weren't related, and I didn't exactly fit the mold for a babysitter.

"Can I help you?" he asked with stiff politeness.

"Yes, hi. We're trying to find a birthday present," I explained.

"For my auntie," Olivia added.

"Ok," the salesman said. He glanced again at me, the question obvious in his expression.

"I'm auntie's boyfriend. But she's the boss," I told him, pointing down at Olivia.

It took a long time- my stars and garters, a long time. Olivia was determined to pick the perfect present, standing on a stool so she could see inside the display cases and make a definitive choice. Eventually she settled on a pretty silver locket after I suggested that we put a picture of herself inside to give to Zoey.

"How much is this, sir?" Olivia asked politely.

The salesman looked amused. "$97."

Her expression immediately soured- she looked heartbroken. "I only have $12."

Twelve dollars meant that Olivia hadn't spent a dime of her pocket money since she started at Xavier's, trying to save up money for Zoey's present. The little kids were given an allowance of $2 a week as a reward for the little chores they did, like keeping their rooms tidy. She'd tried so hard, I had to help her out.

"Don't worry Livie. I'll pay for this," I assured her. "And you can buy a card. Then we can say it's from both of us."

She deliberated for a moment, and then surprised me by throwing her arms around my neck, almost knocking over the stool she'd been standing on.

"Thank you, Mr. Hank!" Olivia squealed. "I hope you become my uncle someday!"

I almost keeled over, right then and there, but I still returned the embrace.

"You're welcome, Livie," I replied.

So do I.