Rogue walked into the kitchen late for breakfast. Why had she let Remy talk her into staying out till 4 a.m. again?

She smiled ruefully as she pulled the fridge door open. Damned swamp rat was too charming for his own good. "Remy," she said quietly.

"Remy!" Her own voice answered her. She frowned. "Who's there?"

"Remy!" The same voice, the same irritated cry as before. She peered around the door. Beau was still on the counter next to the window in his cage, cocking a beady brown eye at her, his yellow head gleaming in the sun.

The flock was here and was talking to him. Beau liked this flock, though it also made him nervous, especially when he was Out with it.

"Oh. It's you." She pulled out one of Remy's strawberry Gatorades and swigged it down without a pause. If he caused the hangover, he could spare the cure.

The flock seemed to be in a good mood. He decided to give the main flock call.

Beau poked his head toward her and wolf-whistled. She laughed. "I bet you'd break hearts if you had anyone around of your kind. If I was a cockatiel, I'd probably think you were the best ever."

The flock made noises at him. He watched flock as he moved down to eat. He picked through his seeds and pellets for his favorites, watching the flock as he did so.

Food didn't sound good this morning, despite the 24 ounces of Gatorade. She sat on a chair near Beau instead and looked through the bars as the gray bird ate. "I wish I could touch you like the others do, Beau. You look so soft."

The bird kept eating, raising his head to look around after every bite. "You can."

She turned to see Bobby in the doorway, watching her. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "You can't pick him up, but you can touch him. He's mostly covered with feathers." He walked over and opened the cage door.

Ooo. One of his favorite flock was here! Beau wiggled with excitement as the favorite came over and opened his door. He ran out and onto the favorite's stick-thing.

Bobby easily scooped Beau onto his hand. The bird tried to climb up his green shirt to his shoulder, but Bobby took him on his other hand and held him up to Rogue's face. "Kiss his breast."

Rogue looked up at him warily. "Really?"

He sighed. "Kitty does it all the time. He sometimes refuses to get on my hand if I don't do it."

Beau was getting impatient, wiggling and squirming to get away from Rogue and back to Bobby. Rogue hesitantly pressed her lips to a point covered with gray feathers about an inch or two below the bird's head.

He was touched. It happened. He still wanted his favorite human.

Beau permitted the touch, then eagerly flew to Bobby and landed on his shoulder. Bobby smiled.

Rogue touched her lips. Beau was soft. He was wonderful. She turned away from Bobby and began walking out of the room.

She finally managed to touch another living thing. It was overwhelming. She rubbed her lips together, trying to recapture the sensation, as she walked back to her room.