Prejudice.  Pre-judging.  Judging someone or something before you know them.  Nasty word, really.  Of course, we're all guilty of it.  When we see people, we instantly make assessments of them.  She's kind, he's depressed, etc.  Sometimes, it can even be good.

            Now's one of those times.

            See that girl there?  Blonde, twenty-something (*cough* not!), oh so cute?  That's me, Leslie Corring.  Currently going by Anna Jacobs and living with a hooker.  Long story.  Involves me traveling to an alternate dimension and finding out I'm a mutant empath with a tendency to melt people.  I try not to think about it too much.  It makes me question my sanity.

            See the guys with the guns?  They're the F.O.H.  Friends of Humanity, a group that doesn't like mutants much.  Right now, I'm being prejudiced.  I'm assuming that they don't want to buy me a cup of coffee.  Sam, the blonde Green Acres extra next to me, is a mutant too.  Bet ya five bucks he's thinking the same thing.

            Now that you're up to date, I'm going to do something incredibly stupid.  Here's hoping I don't screw up!

            Leslie bit her lip sharply, bringing tears to her eyes, then let out a stifled sob.  Immediately, one of the gunman was at her side.

            "Don't worry, ma'am.  We're out to protect our race, not harm it.  As long as you cooperate, you don't have anything to fear," he soother.

            She reached up behind her sunglasses, wiping her eyes.  "I-it's not that," she sobbed.  "There's…there's a mutant in here!"

            Sam's eyes widened and his grip on the table tightened at the same time the gunman put a protective arm around Leslie, waving the gun wildly.  "Where?!"

            "Why," she said calmly, voice steady now as her hand moved from behind her glasses and took them off, "right here."  Ignoring his and Sam's surprise, she reached out, taking control of the emotions of the three F.O.H. men.  "You don't really want to do this, do you?" she asked softly.  ~Love…for me, for mine…guilt…yup, lots of guilt…~

            They shook their heads rapidly.  "No, no, no…"

            "Good.  You like me, don't you?"  Nods.  "Then could you do me a favor?  Go call the police and turn yourselves in.  Okay?"  Rapid nods as they hand the guns to the terrified waiter and ask to use the phone.

            Smiling, Leslie winked at the stunned Sam as she replaced her glasses.  "Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Guthrie, but I think this is my cue to leave.  I do hope to see you again.  And the way the world is, I don't doubt I will.  Do give Rogue my regards when you see her next."  Whistling, she walked out with her hands in her pockets, grinning as Sam was stopped from exiting behind her by the police.  The same police who were all positive there was no reason to stop the blonde woman from leaving.  God, I love mutant powers.

            Realizing that they could only stop Sam for so long, she hurried off in the direction Stacy had taken, not noticing the white-haired African-American woman, nor her albino-pale companion any more than they noticed her.

            "Les?" Stacy asked cautiously after being forcibly dragged out of Subway and back towards the bus station.  "Did I miss something?"

            "There are X-Men here.  One, at least.  Cannonball.  We need to leave."

            Stacy immediately became serious.  "The next bus doesn't leave for ten minutes still…we'll get on now, sit low."

            The two women walked briskly, restraining themselves from running.  The tickets were already bought, allowing them to hurry on, shoving the pieces of paper in the driver's face. 

            Leslie sighed, running a hand through her hair as she slumped into her seat.  "THAT was more stress than I needed…"

            Stacy laughed.  "C'mon, what are the odds we'll run into another X-Man?"

            Leslie relaxed, allowing her taught muscles to unwind.  "Yeah, I guess you're right…what are the odds?"