When Moira knocked, Fern had taken refuge on the ceiling. She had been there little over an hour, flipped upside-down in the corner. At first, the Ailey girl ignored her. She felt no need to answer to Moira, or anyone else really. Especially girl blinked, a bit disturbed that the woman even knew what room was hers. Fern was still rather upset with how things had ended between her and Erik and had been patiently waiting for Charles to come in and scold her for her lack of trying.

"Fern? Are you awake?" Moira asked through the door.

The girl rolled her eyes, but when the woman kept knocking, she fell to the floor. Landing with soundless grace on her tiptoes, Fern crossed to the door and pulled the wooden chair from under the knob. Spinning it away with sticky fingers, she opened the door to face the human.

Moira was a pretty, petite woman somewhere in her mid-thirties if Fern had to guess. She was sensibly dressed in a dark mauve sweater and a finely pressed skirt and looking at the mutant in a way that immediately put her on edge. It was hopeful.

When people looked hopeful they usually wanted something and with a hint of irritation, Fern cocked her hip against the doorframe and crossed her arms. With a glower, she snapped, "What?"

"How did things go with Erik?"

Fern just stared at her.

Moira winced and clutched the notebook in her hand a bit tighter. "That bad, huh?"

"Don't act like you don't already know exactly how things went with Erik." Fern had the distinct feeling everyone in the mansion probably already knew, because Charles seemed to be a bit of a gossip. Licking her teeth, she sighed at the woman, and really at the entire situation said woman represented by being there. "What'd you want?"

The shorter woman cleared her throat delicately. "Charles is having Hank design us combat suits. I thought you might prefer it if I was the one to take your measurements over Hank."

Pursing her lips, Fern inclined her head in a derisive nod. "You would be right." Jerking away from the doorframe, she asked, "Why can't Raven do it?"

Moira took that as an invitation to enter. Slowly, she closed the door behind her. Her gaze flickered around the room with interest, but it was the same as all the others. The only difference was that of the wooden chair at the end of her bed. Arching a brow at it, the woman told her, "I thought it might be nice for us to get to know one another."

Fern said nothing, just moved to sit on the edge of her bed. For a moment, she watched the short brunette. Moira seemed a bit uncomfortable, but not on edge. After pursing her lips a moment, Fern licked her teeth. "What're you doin' here?"

Brown eyes blinked as Moira faltered. "I told you-"

"No, I mean, in the mansion." Fern dismissively waved her hand, the scales of it glittering in the bright light of the room. "What're you doin' in the mansion? With us?"

The petite brunette arched a delicate, slightly defensive brow. Tone terse, but not hostile, she replied with a simple, "My job."

"So you're spying on us?"

Moira's jaw clenched slightly. "I'm trying to keep America safe."

"From us."

"From Shaw," Moira corrected. Voice just short of aloof, the brunette reminded her, "If he gets what he wants, half the planet will be wiped out. Including me."

Fern hummed and nodded. "Works for me." Rolling her shoulders with a hint of discomfort, she asked, "So. What now?"

"Well, it would be easiest if you stripped down to your underwear."

The girl's large blue eyes narrowed with amusement. Standing, she smirked at the agent. "If you wanted to see me naked, you could've just asked, MacTaggert."

Moira immediately began to blush and stammer as Fern stripped out of her sweatshirt.

"I didn't- I mean, it's best to get as close to the scales-" The woman paused and corrected, "I mean skin as possible."

"I bet." Fern tossed her sweater over her shoulders and ignored how her skin swirled with anxiety. In truth, the idea of being half-naked around someone she had only just met made her stomach tight. Still, she supposed it was better than having Hank do it, so she kept her mouth shut and put on a brave front. Shimming out of her sweatpants, she asked how things went with Raven.

A smirk pulled at the corner of Moira's mouth. "Fine. She was a bit upset about what happened at dinner, but…"

Fern blinked and glanced up from folding her t-shirt. Standing there in a matching set of white undergarments, the taller brunette tilted her head. "Why? What happened at dinner?"

"She tried talking to you a few times, but you ignored her." Moira fiddled with the tape measure absently, but her eyes stayed sharp and focused on the mutant. Casually dropping her notebook on the bed, she admitted, "I think her feelings were hurt."

"Oh," the girl blinked again, scale shifting with embarrassment. "I didn't even notice."

The woman approached her, gaze raking over her skin with ill-concealed interest. When Fern turned her back on her, Moira gently slipped the tape measure under her bust. The girl stiffened, but stayed still. The woman's touch was gentle and unobtrusive, as was her voice. "Did the two of you have a fight?"

"I don't think so."

Moira frowned behind her back. "Really?"

"Am I allowed to shrug?"

"No."

"Hm." Fern's jaw twitched. She genuinely couldn't think of what Raven might have been mad about. As Moira measured her back and waist, she thought aloud, "Maybe because I thought about lying to my mom? Or because I said Angel could fuck off, but I don't see how…"

Fern's voice trailed off as she remembered what she had said about Raven before Shaw attacked. How she had said Raven was hiding and a hypocrite and felt her skin swirl with shame.

Moira smirked, enjoying the recognition on Fern's face as the girl's skin changed in the bright light. As it caught and reflected the colors around it, she bit her lip. "Something wrong?"

"No," Fern snapped over her shoulder at her. "Are you done yet?"

"We've barely started." The woman moved over to the bed and jotted down Fern's waist, shoulder and bust sizes. With a pensive frown, she handed the notebook to the grey skinned girl. "Here, Hank said he wanted an outline of where your glands are."

Disgruntled, Fern all but snatched the book from her. It wasn't that she was mad at Moira, she wasn't, but she didn't like to be reminded of her failures…and her relationship with Raven was most certainly a failure. She had been so excited to meet someone like herself and all Fern had done since meeting her, was judge her and piss the blonde (redhead, whatever Raven decided to be) off. As she sketched a crude outline of her figure, Fern asked, "Was she mad?"

"More hurt."

"Hm." Fern licked her lips and outlined the parts of her arms where she had her glands as Moira wrapped the tape measure around the widest part of her hips. "I'll talk to her. Are we done yet?"

"No, I still have to do your arms and inseam."

The girl groaned, but stayed still. For about five seconds before she restlessly rolled her hips.

The woman gave her thigh a light smack as she pulled the tape away. "Stop that."

"This is taking forever."

Moira rolled her eyes. "Spread your legs. I'll get your inseam and we can be done."

Biting back a dirty comment, Fern did as she was told. Moira eyed her legs with interest, letting her fingers skim over the glands on the outside of her thigh tentatively before moving to take her inseam. The girl started at how close the woman's hand got to her crotch, but said nothing. Just glared at the tiny brunette between her legs.

"There." Moira stood and took the notebook from the young woman. "All done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Did you just feel me up?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I was-"

"Whatever. You can go now." Fern waved a dismissive hand at her and moved to pull her pants back on.

With her back turned, she didn't notice the smirk on Moira's lips as she slipped out the door. As it closed behind her, Moira's dark hair lengthened and lightened, transforming back into the blonde mane that Raven so preferred.

After twenty minutes of pouting, Fern eventually decided it was time to pay her mother her promised phone call. When she got there, she was met with the sight of Alex picking through the fridge with a scowl.

"Hey," the girl greeted absently as she went around him to where the phone was nailed to the wall.

Alex glanced up at her. "Hey." Pulling his head from the fridge, he asked, "How'd things go with Erik?"

"Oh, they were just fuckin' peachy." She hopped onto the ledge of the bay window and hung on with her toes. Knees bent and hands clasped together, Fern crouched with her elbows tucked in at her sides. "How'd things go with Hank?"

The boy eyed her strange posture and weird feet with a hint of wariness, but pushed aside his rude comment. "Not great."

Sympathetic, but unsurprised, she nodded. "Hm." Jerking her head in the vague direction of one of the drawers, she asked him to throw her a knife.

With an arched eyebrow, Alex did. He watched her catch the blade of it with a mere touch of her sticky fingers and watched with a hint of curiosity as she stood. With the tips of her toes clinging to the sill and the balls of her feet bearing her weight with ease, she leaned over to stick the knife in the finger hole of the rotatory phone.

"Calling your mom?" He asked.

"Yep."

Alex nodded, neither approving nor disapproving and stuck his head back in the fridge. He didn't think of his parents, who he hadn't seen in over a year or his younger brother who thought he was away at college. He just grabbed a carton of milk and pretended it didn't bother him that the freak had a family and he didn't. Blinking, he recalled what Darwin had said about her, about her getting harassed and felt a hint of shame. It colored his pale cheeks as he pulled his head out of the fridge.

Fern barely noticed. With the phone tucked against her shoulder, she dragged the tip of the knife over her palm. Each movement electing a very quiet 'tink' sound as it skipped over her scales. Rolling her eyes, the young woman sighed. Her mother clearly wasn't home. With her sharp teeth ground together, she hung up the receiver and hopped off the window sill.

"No answer?"

Biting back the rude reply that welled in her throat, Fern merely nodded. If Alex could be civil, so could she. Sliding into the seat across from him, she rested her chin on her hand and stared at him. Objectively, she supposed him attractive. She didn't know much about society's standards of beauty beyond that she didn't fit them, but she had seen a few magazines. A few issues of Rampant and Teen and she was fairly certain Alex was good looking; with his blond hair and strong features and affinity for leather jackets. Fern wondered why Raven wasn't with him instead of Hank- and then remembered how much Alex disliked physical mutations. With pursed lips, she tilted her head and watched him eat his cereal.

The blond bristled slightly under her gaze. Or at least, he was fairly sure was her gaze. It was kind of hard to tell what exactly she was looking at (no pupils). "What?"

"Nothing."

"Than why are you staring at me?" He snapped, a faintly embarrassed blush rising on his tan cheeks.

"We've never been this close before." Fern shrugged. She rested her scaled cheeks on the heels of her bare hands and squirmed in her seat. Tilting her head, she slipped her toes on the brace of her chair and explained, "I'm curious."

"About what?"

"Lots of stuff."

Rolling his eyes, Alex let out a long sigh and let his spoon fall with a clatter into his bowl. "Like what?"

"Like why you don't like me and Hank…or yourself all that much, really." Fern ignored his gaping and how he glared at her. "Is it the mutant thing? It seems like a lot of us don't like the mutant thing."

"Maybe I don't like you because you're a pushy bitch."

Fern's curious visage dropped into a hurt frown. The skin of her face swirled black and white as she stumbled over her words, "I wasn't trying to-" Flustered and embarrassed, she snapped, "You asked!"

"Yeah, but you're not supposed to be honest when people ask that kind of stuff." Alex stood briskly from the table. Irritated and a bit uncomfortable with the attention, he rolled his shoulders. "God, didn't your mother teach you anything?"

Baring her teeth at him, the girl glared at him. "Yeah, honesty is the best policy!"

"You're an idiot."

Leaning forward, she spat at him, "At least I don't hate myself."

The boy glared at her a long moment. Fern's shoulders slowly fell under his stare and her skin mellowed. With a sigh, she hugged herself and stubbornly dropped her gaze to the table. He went to pass her, to storm out of the kitchen, but Fern's quiet apology stopped him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to being around people yet. Next time I'll lie."

Rolling his blue eyes, the young man turned back to her. From the back, Fern looked fairly normal. Her black hair hid her neck and the rest of her bizarre skin was covered by her pajamas and Alex grit his teeth as he came back around to the table. Falling into the seat across from her, he ignored her hopeful expression and conceded with a nod. "Me too."

"Truce?" Fern offered her hand to him. When he stared at it with distaste, she wiggled her fingers at him. "Take my hand, Summers. You know you're curious."

Annoyed that he was, Alex wrinkled his nose and took it. The skin felt just as strange as he had thought it would be, but the girl beamed at him. As he eyed her sharp teeth and felt the scrap of her fingertips against his palm, the boy briefly considered having regrets.

Thankfully, Sean came into the kitchen and distracted Alex from having them. "Evening, folks."

The redhead gave Fern's hair a playful tossling as he passed her by, heading straight for the phone and ignoring the withering stare she sent his way. He plucked it from the receiver and stuck it between his shoulder and neck. "How'd things go with Erik and Hank?"

At their answering groans, Sean glanced behind him. Fern had dropped her head to the table and Alex had thrown his head back with the force of his frustration. With a snicker, the redhead dialed a familiar number. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"He's the devil."

"Hank isn't the devil, Alex," Sean teased with an impish grin the blond couldn't see. "Trust me, I'm Catholic."

There was a beat of silence before he greeted whoever was on the other end of the line enthusiastically. Alex and Fern shared a look, but the former decided to turn back to his cereal and the latter decided to eavesdrop. Slipping casually from her seat, the grey girl slipped over to the windowsill and pretended to look out it.

Sean rolled his eyes at her terrible, terrible attempt at snooping. "Hey, Mr. T, is Jonah there?"

When Fern bent a bit closer to hear the response, Sean grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. Her skin rippled and spun with embarrassment. With a hard shove, she bounced away from him. Leaning against the window frame with her arms crossed, Fern glare at him. With her legs parallel to her waist, she listened as Sean addressed whomever was on the line.

"Jonah, man, what's up?"

"Sean?!" A young, male voice cut over the line. It was a bit hysterical and rushed, but Sean seemed completely at ease with the panic in it. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Yeah…" The redhead sighed in a mournful way that was completely and utterly fake. "I'm dropping out."

"What?!"

The redhead gave Fern's ankle a playful squeeze. Winking at her, Sean explained, "I met a girl. We've run off together and are living in sin."

"What?!"

Fern rolled her eyes and jabbed at his side with her toes as Alex snickered behind them.

Batting her foot away, Sean shifted the receiver to his other shoulder. "Can you mail me my stuff?"

"I guess?" His roommate replied, completely bewildered and a bit put out. "I mean, this all seems really sudden, Sean. Have you even told your parents yet?"

The redhead scoffed. "Of course not, what'd you think I am? Stupid?"

Fern jabbed him again, but he merely swatted her toes away.

"Well, what's the address?"

As Sean gave him one that was clearly not in Salem, Alex and Fern shared a curious glance. Picking his bowl up, the blond moved to stand behind the redhead. Sean glared at him, but said nothing as the two of them ganged up on him with their disapproving expressions and hostile cereal eating (at least on Alex's part). Glaring at them, he said a brisk goodbye to his (former) roommate and hung up.

He squinted at them. "What?"

Alex lifted a dubious brow. "You haven't told your parents yet?"

"Are you ashamed of us, Sean?" Fern teased with a wide smile.

"Ugh, you guys are so lame," The redhead declared with a heavy sigh.

With a chuckle, Alex took his bowl of cereal and left the kitchen. Fern, never one to be ignored, hopped up on the counter. Crouching on bended knees, she sang, "I'm not hearing a no there, Cassidy."

Grinning, Sean shook his head as he picked up the phone once more.

A/N: Shout out to my wonderful beta, Linda Ku. She's amazing.