AN: SORRY! I didn't mean to get behind again! I've been trying to update but the site was acting strange for me (probably my computer again) but now everything seems to be working fine for me. It's either that or I need to start picking a better day to update because, between school, dance classes, and a bunch lf lazy fellow Girl Scout leaders who like to lump their work on me, I'm running on very little free time. I'm going to try and free up some more time by giving all my fellow Girl Scout leaders back their work. They should really be doing it instead of me because I'm just the Daisy leader. As always, thanks for the reviews! They rock like a box of socks and keep them coming. I don't care if they're good, bad, or indifferent. I'm always open to everyone's opinions and I like to hear what people are thinking! I'm going to finish this little misadventure so feel free to comment at anytime.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except a handful or two of made up characters. All of this wonderful stuff belongs to the geniuses at Marvel Comics. I'm just playing in their world. I'm broke and in graduate's school. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

The good thing about having a gifted two year old, in Angelina's mind, was that she already knew where babies came from. One of the students assigned to watch Hope some idle day in the school had left the little girl alone with her science textbook. The student didn't know any better so Angelina didn't blame her when the two of them found Hope thoroughly absorbed in the anatomy sections of her textbook.

The bad thing about having a gifted two year old was that she knew where babies came from, really. Sometimes Hope knew far too much about things and that scared her parents. After all, no one knew what sort of damage such advanced knowledge would have on a little girl who didn't know any better about things.

Thankfully, Angelina had mandated that all textbooks be kept out of Hope's reach and had sat down with the little girl and tried to get her to understand that she couldn't see certain things because she was still little. When she was older, she would be better prepared to understand. That, of course, lead to some pouting but Hope quickly forgot about it when her father came home with a new coloring book and a box of markers.

All and all, Hope could still be very much a little girl.

At the moment, Hope was sitting at the coffee table in her family's quarters, coloring. She seemed to be oblivious to anything else except the picture in front of her- something involving a dog and a field of large flowers- and the box of markers at her elbow. They were the fat sort of markers and it was an almost comical sight to see the little girl try and wrap her tiny hand around it.

The only time the marker left her hand was when she had to cough or sneeze. Even with her genetic disorder dictating certain things about her, Hope was still prone to respiratory infections.

It was in the moment, a moment of silent agreement that Angelina and Matthew decided to spring the news on their daughter. They were hoping one of her favorite pastimes, coloring though one could argue she liked her music and language lessons just as much if not more, would be distraction enough from the news they had for her.

"Hope, munchkin, can we talk for a bit?" Angie asked, mentally berating herself for calling her daughter by such horrible pet name.

It just seemed very wrong to call her daughter a "munchkin" because they were the little people in the Wizard of Oz. Hope was undersized but it seemed insulting to call her that, though Angelina wasn't quite sure why.

Hope looked up at her mother with red, runny eyes and gave a rough sounding cough. Her mommy and daddy looked very, very serious and that couldn't be good. Still, in her head, she knew there was something else, something that wasn't so serious. Hope was very sensitive that way, especially with minds she knew. She could pick up on things from most minds but the minds she was closest too were the easiest to read and to understand.

"What's wrong mommy?" she asked, watching as her parents sat down on the floor with her.

That set off a warning bell on Hope's small head. Her parents didn't sit on the floor like she did. They were big people and they sat on the couch or in chairs. Only little people like her sat on the floor or so she figured. Sometimes the big people- the people that went to the school and were not quite as grown up as her mommy, daddy, and their friends- sat on the floor but they did that to be silly.

At least that's how Hope understood things. Advanced intelligence or not, she was still two years old and still had the ability to understand things on such a level.

"Nothing's wrong, bella," Matthew said, nudging his daughter's small arm and pulling her into his lap, "We just want to talk to you."

Angelina smiled; finding the fact her husband was such a good father funny. He was a young father, true, but he still doted on his daughter. That and she much preferred his nickname for her to her own. "Bella," Italian for "beautiful," was what he decided to call his daughter and that was ten times better than "munchkin."

Still, with his absolute care for his daughter, Angelina had to wonder how he was going to treat their new child. She figured it would be with the same absolute devotion and care. If not, well, then there were going to be problems.

The little mutant coughed, again. The cough was the result of a cold she just couldn't seem to shake no matter how hard she tried. At least the medicine her mommy and daddy were giving her was making her feel a little better. It didn't hurt so much to cough anymore.

"I'm all ears," Hope giggled, as she snuggled against her father.

"Do you remember how Lisa said she had a little sister back home?" Angie asked, trying to start a story and hoping that her daughter went along the path she wanted her to.

It was difficult, at best, to bait Hope because she could guess motives in stories. Her psychic powers seemed to come into play somehow but no one was really quite sure exactly how.

Hope nodded, remembering hearing the girl talking on the grounds. She seemed very sad because she missed her friends and her family and her old home. She didn't like being different because people didn't like the fact she was what she was. That, of course, didn't make sense to Hope because Hope couldn't see how being a mutant was bad. Everyone she knew was a mutant and they didn't make it seem like it was all that bad a thing.

For whatever powers she had, Hope still had her innocence in tact. That was because she was being subtly protected from the truth by those around her.

"Would you like a little brother or sister, like Lisa has?" Matt, gently, asked the little girl sitting on his lap.

Hope thought for a minute, trying to guess the flow of the conversation. Something was most definitely going on and she had a vague idea of what that something was. She guessed she should just test that theory.

"Mommy's having a baby?" she, boldly, guessed.

Amazed but unfazed because she knew Hope might respond in such a way, Angie replied, "I am….you get to be a big sister."

The couple waited for Hope's reaction with baited breath. She had been the center of their universe for so long that they weren't sure what she was going to do. Hope was going to have to share everything with a little person she wasn't going to be able to touch or see for several months and, once said little person came, things were only going to get more interesting.

"I like that idea but I'm not going to be a very big sister," Hope giggled, referring to her tiny stature.

She understood that she was short but wasn't really sure why sometimes. Still, she was alright with her slight height and often joked about it because other people did.

With a curious expression, she asked, "In June?"

"Yes, in June," Angie confirmed, not all that sure how Hope guessed that fact.

"Hope," Matt added, turning his daughter so she faced him, "there's something else."