June 7, 1956
"One month until the fourth of July," Rahne said proudly, "Are you gonna take me to the fireworks again mama?"
"Of course honey, of course," Moira assured her, "At least I get that day off."
"Like today?" asked Rahne.
"Like today," Moira smiled.
She ruffled her hair before putting on an oven mitt.
"Stand back Rahne."
Rahne took two steps back obediently. Moira pulled out the sugar cookie sheet and put it onto the stovetop. She could hear Rahne's nostrils flaring behind her. Her daughter had a keen sense of smell. She was always the first child in the neighborhood to know when the ice cream truck came or what Moira was cooking for dinner.
"Can I have one?" Rahne begged, "Or three. Three would be good."
"You can have one," Moira said, "After they've cooled."
"You can't be planning to eat all of them yourself," Rahne whined.
"Most of them are for our new neighbor," said Moira, "She moved in a little earlier today. Do you remember the noise next door?"
Rahne sniffed.
"Her?" asked Rahne, "She smelled…different."
"Different?" asked Moira.
"Different," Rahne said firmly, "Not good, not bad. Just different."
Moira frowned, picking out a plate. It was a nice one, but not one she would mind parting with if her new neighbor turned out to be horrid. Her mother had always taught her that you greeted new neighbors with treats; a hangover from when her grandparents had participated in cabin raising parties.
"Well, I'm sure it's nothing important," Moira said, "Hopefully she'll be nice."
Her daughter still looked unsure.
"Do I hafta come with you?" asked Rahne, "When you give her the cookies I mean."
She shook her head.
"Thanks mama," said Rahne, "Can we have spaghetti for dinner tonight?"
Moira laughed and shook her head.
"You change tracks pretty fast there," she said, "Focus on one subject, okay? Now, go back to your coloring book. I'll be back in just a minute, and I'd better not find any of the cookies missing. Got it?"
Grinning Rahne nodded. She skipped off to the living room where her coloring book lay where she had dropped it. A package of crayons lay scattered around it. Moira smiled and turned back to the stovetop, putting cookies on the plate. She counted three on the stove before she left, memorizing the number. Rahne wasn't about to get away with sweet theft.
Moving briskly she went up to the porch. The neighborhood still wasn't the best, the housing was still cheap. Still, it didn't mean that everyone who lived there was dangerous. More likely it meant that they were in a strained financial situation like Moira. She put on her best smile and knocked on the door.
There was a slight pause. Footsteps came up to the door and opened it. A woman with dark features opened the door, brown hair curling around her face. She stared flatly at Moira.
"Hi," said Moira, "I live next door and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood."
The woman's eyes stayed coolly on her. Moira began to feel a little uncomfortable, shifting the cookies slightly so she'd at least make a move towards them.
"Thank you. It was a nice thought," she said, "But I'm not into this whole neighbor-neighbor community thing."
Moira swallowed and gave a weak smile.
"Alright," she said, "Sorry for intruding then."
The woman nodded and shut the door. Moira sighed and began walking down the stairs. She paused halfway down and looked at the plate. She really didn't mind losing it. Slowly she put the plate down on the porch, reaching into her pocket for the spare pen and a scrap of paper. She wrote 'Just in case you change your mind' before putting it on the plate and leaving.
True to her word she didn't see much of the woman in the weeks ahead. Work was getting complicated anyway. Information was trickling in about Genosha and she and Levine had been officially assigned the case. All it meant to her was one headache after another. There was very little information for her to work with.
It also frustrated her the way the administration was dragging its feet. They were only tentatively intervening in a conflict which they should have supported. Moira had never known America to make a fuss when a country tried to overthrow its despotic masters to install a democratic society. Genosha still had a King who seemed to be in control of the parliament.
She slogged through her work though alongside Levine. Between Rahne's summer break and her own workload she was more stressed than she'd ever been. Sometimes it was an uphill battle not to snap at her daughter or to yell at Levine. Still, she kept her temper quietly within her. She couldn't lose herself to this.
Moira was in the middle of reviewing a report at her house when she saw Rahne walk up, her hands clasped behind her back. It was nearly ten at night, the sky finally turning dark. Moira frowned at the fact that her daughter hadn't gotten ready for bed yet. She was independent and liked doing it herself so Moira rarely assisted.
"Something wrong Rahne?" asked Moira.
Rahne shook her head.
"I just wanted to know, it's dark out, can I change and go outside?"
Moira hesitated. They had done this sometimes at night, generally in the winter. Rahne was allowed to change in the house any time she wanted, but she preferred to do it outside. Tapping her pencil on the table Moira looked outside. It did seem dark enough for her daughter to have a quick excursion.
"Okay," Moira said, putting her pencil down on the table, "But just for a few minutes."
"I know," said Rahne happily.
Moving forward Moira opened the door. Rahne bounded out, changing in mid-leap. Moira admired Rahne's control, the seamless way she moved from one form to another. She was definitely an unusual child. Moira had known that from the minute she'd adopted her. She was also an extremely precious child.
Stepping out Moira smiled. Rahne bounded up to her, halfway between a human and a wolf. Moira held out her hand. It was one of the games that they played. Rahne's furry hand took hers and pulled on it. She grabbed her daughter's other hand and they began spinning around. Rahne laughed loudly.
Her daughter enjoyed playing the simplified version of ring-around-the-rosy. The only thing that made Moira sad was she was the only one Rahne played it with. Her little girl had been in school a year but didn't appear to have any friends. Rahne had a fierce distrust of children her age. The only thing that she seemed to distrust more was adults.
It made Moira wonder what kind of mistreatment she'd suffered before she'd ended up on the streets. Granted, the streets in and of themselves had probably hurt her ability to trust. However, if her daughter could stay this innocent while holding herself apart Moira knew she was strong. Strong adn clever.
In that strength there was also a vulnerability. Rahne was lonely whenever Moira left. She didn't trust anyone except her but didn't like being alone. She wasn't making things easy for herself and she seemed to know it.
The knowledge only made Moira want to protect her more. She didn't appear fragile, but Moira knew she was. Rahne was a beautiful child with a unique gift. Moira knew that others might view what she had differently and that her daughter knew that too. Life had been difficult for her in the past, but Moira wanted to make it good for her in the future.
Finally dizzy Rahne let go of her hands. They both flopped backwards, the sky spinning above them. Rahne laughed, sitting up first. She changed back into her normal appearance, still laughing. Pushing herself up Moira smiled at her. Then, out of nowhere, Rahne's laughter stopped. Her lower lip began to quiver and Moira frowned. She turned, following Rahne's line of sight.
Her neighbor stood at the fence, her mouth open slightly. Panic flared in Moira's mind. How could she have been so careless? It was quickly replaced with a sense of action. She reached forward and gathered Rahne into her arms. Her daughter was scared and she needed to calm her down. Moira gripped her tightly as she got up.
Tossing her head back she glared at the woman.
"You have something to say?" she asked, her voice dark.
The woman continued to stare. Moira thought she saw tears in her eyes.
"Do you?" demanded Moira.
The woman shook her head, as if breaking from a daze.
"I'd never tell," she whispered, "I swear I'd never tell I…it's just been so long since I've seen another."
Rahne wrapped her arms around Moira's neck. Moira frowned. The panic was gone, replaced by a strange curiosity and confusion.
"What are you talking about?" Moira said.
The woman gave a sad smile.
"It's…I think we're called mutants," she said, "We can all do different things, some extra ability…I didn't know if I'd ever see another…"
Moira glanced down at Rahne. Rahne looked back up at her, her eyes wide and wondering.
"Mama," she whispered, "She smells different."
It was good enough for her.
"I think you'd better come in," Moira said.
She walked over, shifting Rahne's weight. She unlocked the door and let the woman in. It made Moira nervous to do this, to talk about Rahne's gift. Still, she needed more information. Perhaps this woman could help Rahne, or warn her. She seemed so sad. So Moira briefly swallowed her fear and moved on.
Moira set Rahne on the couch. She couldn't bring the woman to the table. She had classified documents there. The woman sat down opposite them, obviously as uncomfortable as being in Moira's house as Moira was in having her there. Next to her Rahne cuddled closely to her, taking her hand.
"What did you mean, mutants?" asked Moira.
The woman cocked her head, obviously searching for words.
"Is she your biological daughter?" she asked.
Moira blinked and Rahne tightened her grip.
"She might as well be," Moira said.
"Is she though?" asked the woman, "It's important."
Sighing deeply Moira stroked Rahne's hair.
"No, no she isn't," answered Moira.
The woman nodded.
"I thought you looked a little young," she said, "But, this thing that we have, it's passed through the families. My people called it magic."
Moira frowned.
"Your people?" she asked.
"I'm Blackfoot," the woman said proudly, "Well, half Blackfoot. But the point is that generally families are affected by it. My brother had this idea that it might be genetic. It explained why my sister and I both had it."
"Your sister?"
The woman's eyes filled with tears but she didn't cry.
"Yes," she said, "My little sister. She's gone now…my brother too…but, well."
She swallowed and continued on.
"I know that it's hard, that you have to hide," she said, "I'm sorry about what I did earlier, but I lost my family because people came after me. I've needed to keep myself separate. For the past few years I...I got rid of the people who came after us. The specific ones anyway."
The edge in her voice left no doubt in Moira's mind about how she'd gotten rid of them. The woman leaned back and gestured out the window to her house.
"This is only temporary," she said, "I wondered if maybe there were others out there, besides me and my siblings. I don't think those people will find me again, but they'll know by now not to come after me. I don't have a mutation that allows me to fight, but I didn't survive this long because I'm pretty."
She looked down at Rahne.
"You've got a unique gift there little girl," she said, smiling.
Rahne gave a tentative smile, nodding. Moira smiled and ruffled her hair.
"I'm glad I found you," the woman said, "I haven't talked to anyone…not really, not in…three years?"
Moira took a deep breath. She couldn't imagine what that must have been like. She held out her hand.
"My name's Moira MacTaggert," she said, "This is my daughter, Rahne."
"Pleased to meet you," Rahne said shyly.
The woman's face softened. Still, she hesitated for a moment, staring at Moira's proffered hand. Then she leaned forward and grasped Moira's hand firmly. Moira felt like she had made a friend that night, or at least an ally against anyone who might hurt Rahne. Either would be good for the coming years.
"Kayla," the woman said, "The mailbox says Collins, but it's really Silverfox. Kayla Silverfox."