Beau sat quietly on the blue human. It held him on its shoulder in the den, playing with something in its lap. The blue human wouldn't let him play with it. The blue human was selfish. He tried to climb down and play with it again.

Kurt muttered under his breath, the golden words of the King James Version he had been given by Charles last year for Christmas singing through his head. He liked having Beau with him as he read in the evenings before he had to put the bird to bed.

The stuff was shiny on the edges. Oh my! He loved playing with shinies. He decided to taste the shiny.

Kurt felt a presence near his right hand. "Beau!" The cockatiel had squirmed down the towel Kurt wore over his shoulder, to keep the bird's leavings off his clothing, and took a small bite out of the page he was reading.

Uh-oh. The human had noticed. He put a foot on the toy. He had claimed it! The human should not challenge his claim to the neat toy!

Beau kept chewing on the paper he had bitten, put a foot on the Bible, and hissed at Kurt when he tried to pick the bird up. "Nein, Beau. Up. Now."

He did what he always did when he heard the noise the humans made and stood on the stick-thing, though he opened his mouth to hiss in protest.

The bird dropped the paper he had been chewing and hissed at him. "Ja. I know. I am an evil human, stealing away your things." He put the bird back up on his shoulder. What was it that Kitty had explained to them?

Ah, yes. When Beau needed things to chew on, give him things that were good to chew. He bent down to the Beau basket, full of extra food, toys, water, and chewables that all X-men who cared for him carried with them as they saw to the bird's needs. He took out a subscription card to Field and Stream and held it up to Beau's face.

A toy! He would take this toy from the evil stick-things. Oh, it felt good in his beak. He wanted to take more of it. He happily began shredding the card, chewing on bits and then dropping them everywhere.

Kurt sighed. The bird had taken a piece of his favorite Bible. It was only a small piece, but he fussed over the book to make sure it was all right otherwise.

The stick-things gave up? The card was his! He snatched it and bit it savagely, then it disappeared. He stared at where it had been, questioning. What had happened to the neat toy?

Kurt looked up at Beau as the animal dropped the card he had left on his shoulder for him to peck at. The bird looked confused, darting his beak down and attacking the small white pellets he had made of the pieces he had ripped from the card. He sighed and held the card up to Beau again. "Here. Happy?"

The card was back! Oh, it was a neat toy! But the stick-things were back too. He nibbled at them. Get away from Beau's toy. My toy. Mine.

The bird pretended to attack his thick fingers, hissing and hitting them with his beak. "But if I let go, you will not have a toy any more, silly thing." He pulled his fingers back to the edge of the card, then looked at the clock. 8:45. "Time for you to go to sleep, mein freund vogel."

The card went away. The human started packing up its things. Oh! It was about time for…time for sleep? No! Not yet!

The bird began singing and whistling, mixing the human sounds he had learned, like wolf-whistles and the squeak of the dining room door, with the loudest bird sounds he knew. "Ja, ja. Time to go to bed."

Kitty poked her head in. "I thought I heard him. Bed time already?" She looked disappointed.

"It is."

Maybe the small human would save him from the go to bed human. He started directing his song to her, whistling and bobbing and showing her what a good, handsome bird he was.

Beau extended his neck and started showing the white patches on his wings, singing and flirting with Kitty. Kurt laughed. "What a silly creature you are, Beau."

He put the bird into his cage, then closed the door and took him into the small alcove off the kitchen where the bird slept. He covered the animal, which was still squeaking and singing loudly. "Guten nacht, Herr Beau. Now, quiet."

He would not sleep. He was not tired. There was so much more singing and playing and eating and singing to do! He was not tired. He was just quiet in the dark because flock was quiet. He was not tired. He just wanted to rest his head in the feathers of his back for a little because it was comfortable. He closed his eyes. Soon, Beau was asleep, and what dreams he had were his alone, but probably included kindly white, blue, and brown faces giving him what he wanted all along. A family. A flock. Somewhere to call home.