Alistaire beamed in pride. "Thank you very much." He told the man behind the counter as he took the envelopes. "I'm sure they'll all enjoy getting these."

"Everybody does." The man behind the counter smiled. "Tell me something… You met 'em all, right?"

Alistaire nodded. "Sure have."

"Why does the Braddock girl look Asian when her brother looks Irish?" The man asked. "Me mum and her friends have been debatin' that one at the beauty shop."

Alistaire chuckled. "I thought it was different parents myself but I never thought to ask. Will you be in next Friday when I come back?"

"Sure. Sure." The man nodded.

"I'll find out for you by then." Alistaire smiled.

"Thanks!" The man smiled. "My mum's birthday's next week. What a treat. She loves to gossip."

"No problem." Alistaire smiled. "And be sure and tell your mum I said hello."

"I will." The man replied. What nice folks! The man thought. Who would have guessed it?

Alistaire stuffed the paychecks in to his satchel and fastened it's buckles before slipping outside. He bypassed three government limousines with their drivers waiting. Many smiled and waved.

"What's the good word?" Alistaire asked them cheerfully.

"Hey, Mr. Stuart, you remember me?" One asked. "I took you and Kurt Wagner from the airport to the reception that night."

"Oh, yes. You were an excellent driver." Alistaire shook his hand.

"Hey, listen, if any of your people need a driver, I want them to ask for me. Okay? Monroe. Michael Monroe." He gave Alistaire a business card. "I felt real bad leaving you there that night when they called me away and made you take that smaller car. I'd love to drive for you now that you're on top again, you know?"

Alistaire took the card. "I'll pass the message along. You never know." He smiled and took three steps towards his mini-cooper.

"Is this your ride?" Monroe asked.

"Oh, yes." Alistaire keyed the alarm button on his key chain and the car's lights flashed with a beep as it deactivated.

Monroe circled the car. "Damn! That is sweet. Tinted glass, sweet rims, and that sparkly paint…"

Alistaire laughed. "Take a look inside." He opened the door and several of the drivers circled around to look. "Have a seat."

Monroe slipped in to the car, afraid to touch anything. It was obviously a well cared for car that had been recently detailed.

"The red button is Nitrous Oxide for bursts of speed." Alistaire began, pointing over Micheal's shoulder. "The blue button releases two stop-sticks from the back bumper."

"What's a stop stick?" One of the drivers asked.

"It's a foam stick with nasty metal razors inside. I press that button and I drop two sticks. They jump to either side of the car and pop the tires of anyone behind me."

"Wow." Monroe said. "Now that's what I'm talking about."

"See the little handle next to the shifter on the floor?" Alistaire asked.

"Sure." Michael looked longingly at the lever.

"I pull that and these little devices under the car create a cushion of positively charged ions that the car will float on top of."

"It flies?" One of the other drivers said in shock.

"It floats." Alistaire corrected. "About eight feet above pavement and three or four above water."

"But how's it go forward if the wheels aren't touching?" Monroe asked.

"Flip that toggle switch near the ignition."

Monroe flipped it and a panel fell away to reveal four more toggles, each covered with a protective flip cover to protect from accidental use.

Just then a panel hydraulically lowered itself on the back of the car and some of the drivers pointed in awe.

"I've got five jets across the back. Four for bursts of speed and cornering and one for standard momentum." Alistaire smiled again.

Michael Monroe jumped out of the car and looked at the exposed jets across the back panel. "That's amazing." He said softly.

And the other drivers murmured their agreement.

Alistaire checked his watch.

"Yeah, we'll let you get going." Michael said, taking the hint. "Thanks for showing us the car though. It's incredible."

"You're more than welcome." Alistaire told him. "And I'll be sure and pass your message along to Kurt and the others."

Michael beamed. "Thanks a lot. I mean it."

Alistaire smiled and settled back in to his car, closing the door and fastening is seatbelt when he realized that one of the drivers was still standing there looking attentive.

Alistaire rolled down his window but before he could speak the man handed him a piece of paper. "If you could sir… My sister's boy… He needs… help."

Alistaire took the note. "Help?" He asked.

The man nodded. "With his… gifts."

"Ahhh!" Alistaire nodded. "He's a mutant."

The driver nodded, his eyes downcast.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Alistaire asked.

The man pursed his lips. "Nothing that wont become clear at first sight." He shrugged. "Thank you."

Alistaire nodded. "I'll pass this along to Kitty right away. She's looking for recruits for a mutant education program that helps people use their gifts."

The man's eye held only sadness. "Well, I hope that Excalibur is up for a challenge. Because some times… There's just no talking to the boy."

Alistaire smiled. "We've got some of the best looking women in the empire assigned to Excalibur. I'm sure he'll find someone there he wants to talk to."

The man managed a weak smile. "He will at that." But the smile seemed to be saying "You've been warned."

At just that moment, a young boy, barely sixteen was slowly walking along the road to the lighthouse.

Six more miles. He told himself as he eyed the roadside distance sign. Six more miles…

He reached behind him and fished a water bottle out of his backpack. He unscrewed the cap and took several long swallows before replacing it and zipping the pack by reaching over his head.

I hope… But that was as far as he got. He hoped too much in his own opinion and he didn't want to admit to wanting and desiring things that might not actually be coming.

Well… They can't just turn me away… I mean... Of course they can… But … He sighed. How am I supposed to offer my 'services' if I don't have a clue about my mutation?

He tried to shake the idea off with thoughts like: But they understand these things, it's their job. And They can help you.

Above all, that last one was what he was hoping for most viemently. If someone could help him understand his power then he could begin using it.

He looked up at the overcast sky above. That's not too much to ask, is it God? I just want a purpose. I want to be useful. He shivered. I'm tired of living outside and on the streets… Pointlessly…

Slowly he circled the curve and there, in the distance, the lighthouse appeared.

"Wow." He stared at it for a long moment. Suddenly his hair felt long and unkempt. He felt dirty from the morning dew and the long walk.

If I cut across the field instead of following the road I'll be there much quicker.

He debated. One step closer to knowing… He grimaced. Knowing if I'm useless or not…

He shivered a bit. That is… If I can get them to talk to me…

Slowly he realized that he was indeed cutting across the field toward the lighthouse. Everything inside him screamed to turn around and walk away. He wanted to go back to huddling under bridges and sitting on park benches to pass the time.

And if I were there… I'd be thinking of doing nothing but coming here. He admitted, still amazed at the courage of his feet to just keep plugging away while his mind screamed in fear.

I'll knock, and ask if they have a minute… If someone will just let me explain…

And up on top of the lighthouse, someone spied him crossing the field.