DISCLAIMER: Siku and Cierra are the property and creation of Darqstar. The rest of the X-folk belong to Marvel.

"That was SO boring," sighed ten year-old Sikudhani McCoy as she and Cierra Miles walked across the wide, leaf-strewn lawn of the Xavier estate. "How can anyone, even a substitute teacher, make math dull?"

"Oh, the horror!" Cierra cried, clapping a hand to her chest as if someone had just shot her through the heart. "Mr. Crawford should be arrested for crimes against humanity." Siku snorted, and Cierra gave her a keen look. "Still made about the book report?"

"A little," Siku admitted. "I don't think he was fair."

"It was just a book report, Siku. Besides, you got a seventy-five on it. That's not a bad mark."

"It is for me," Siku pointed out, and Cierra made a face at her. "Look," she continued, a little impatiently. "It's what he said, not just the mark. I liked 'The Hobbit'. My dad says it's one of the great classics of English literature. Mr. Crawford shouldn't have called it juvenile."

"Maybe not," Cierra said, grinning. "But was it smart to ARGUE with him about it? In front of the class?"

"No," Siku said, blushing at the memory. No, not very smart at all, she thought ruefully. "Promise me you'll kick me if I ever try to do something like that again? But I couldn't just sit there and let him say things like that--not when half the other kids did Goosebumps books!"

They reached the front door, and Siku held it open for Cierra. "You know, Siku," Cierra said whimsically as they hung up their coats in the front hall closet, "I think God must hate us." Siku couldn't help but laugh, and Cierra grinned. "No, really! I mean, why else would we get stuck with Mr. Crawford? Either that or we did something really, really bad, and now we're being punished."

"I know," Siku groaned, taking off her shoes. "I miss Mrs. Conover already. Why'd she have to go on maternity leave in the first place?"

"Probably because she had a baby, Siku," Cierra said with an absolutely straight face. Before Siku could make the reply the comment deserved, a deafening shriek came from upstairs.

"DON'T WANT A BATH!" came three year-old Rachel Summers' distinctive voice.

"Lucky Mrs. Conover," Siku said with a mock shudder of horror. Cierra's eyes widened as another bloodcurdling scream echoed through the mansion. She started to giggle, and after a moment, Siku felt a grin starting on her own face.

"C'mon," Cierra said amiably. "Let's go stuff our faces with junk food and watch Star Wars. We can turn it up real loud and drown out Rachel."

"HATE BATHS!" There was a brief pause. "DON'T WANT DUCKIE!"

Siku sighed. "Maybe I should get Aunt Jean earplugs for Christmas."

*

Siku yawned as the Emperor tried to tempt Luke to turn to the Dark Side of the Force. Cierra's eyes were riveted to the screen, and she was practically inhaling popcorn. After watching her for a while, Siku decided to say something.

"Cierra, could you--ah, maybe chew that a bit? I know the Heimleich manuever, but I'd be scared to death if I ever had to use it on you."

"Shh!"

Siku sighed. "Sorry." To her, Star Wars was kind of predictable, but Cierra never seemed to lose her fascination with it.

"I love Han Solo," Cierra sighed as the scene switched to the battle on Endor. "He reminds me of your uncle Remy."

"Harrison Ford doesn't look anything like Uncle Remy!" Siku protested. She got up and went over to the window, staring out through the half-closed blinds. Why did she have to mention Uncle Remy? Siku thought sadly. I almost managed to forget for the whole day.

She hated the end of fall. The trees looked like sad, barren skeletons. Even the leaves on the ground had faded, from bright red, orange and gold to dull brown and yellow. It had been grey and dreary for so long that Siku felt like she hadn't seen the sun in months. All the color was gone from the world--kind of like what was happening in the mansion with Uncle Remy away.

Something shimmered under the trees, catching her eye. Siku frowned, puzzled, as the faint white light grew stronger, flickering like firelight before it expanded into a sphere as bright as the sun.

Someone was teleporting in, she realized, fascinated, just as two people stepped out of the light.

"Nathan?" Siku whispered, astonished. It WAS her cousin, all right, though she didn't know the woman with him.

"Who?" Cierra asked curiously. Siku gave a surprised squeak, and outside, the globe of light vanished.

"Ah, it's my cousin Nathan," she said a little awkwardly as Cierra paused the movie and joined her at the window. "I don't know who she is." The strange woman was tall, like Aunt Ororo, but more muscular, with short black hair, beautiful violet eyes, and skin that was very pale except for a black patch around one eye. "Wait a minute--" Siku muttered thoughtfully. "I think I remember her from one of Uncle Sam's photo albums. She had a strange name--"

"How can he be your cousin?" Cierra exclaimed. "He's so old!" She glanced sideways at Siku, blushing. "He's kind of cute, though."

"O-kay," Siku said slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. Cousin Nathan? Cute? That's a new one.

"So," Cierra finally sighed when Siku fell silent. "Are you going to tell me about him? How come I've never met him before?"

"He's away most of the time," Siku said cautiously. Uncle Logan always said you had to be drunk to even think of trying to explain Nathan to someone outside the family.

We're already used to weirdness, darlin', he'd said. Anyone else tries to understand Nate and where he comes from, their brain's liable to explode. "C'mon," Siku said quickly, before Cierra could grill her. "I'll introduce you to him."

*

Sam whistled cheerfully to himself as he made an open-faced peanut butter sandwich for Rachel. Hit by sudden inspiration, he used the squeeze-bottle of grape jelly to draw a smiling face in the peanut butter.

"All right, Ray, if this doesn't distract you, ah don't know what will," he said, grinning. Jean would probably bless him if it did. Siku was NEVER this loud, he reflected. He wasn't looking forward to the day that Rachel's telepathy kicked in.

He heard the kitchen door open. "Logan, that you?" he asked absently.

"Good God, no!" teased a familiar voice. "I know I'm a little worn around the edges, Guthrie, but please tell me I don't look THAT bad."

Sam dropped the jam bottle. "Domino?" he gasped, turning around slowly. "Is it really you?"

"No, actually, it's the Tooth Fairy, Sam," his old teacher said with a brilliant smile, stepping forward and giving him a hug. Her grip was just as strong as he remembered. "You look great, kid. What happened to that skinny teenager I used to know?"

"You look good too, ma'am," he replied, grinning. Other than a few silver streaks in her ebony hair, it was like the years had left no mark on her. "It's so great to see you!" He looked past her hopefully. "Is he with you?"

Cable stepped through the open door. "I see you found him," he said to Domino. He noted the sandwich and frowned. "Aren't you a little old to be playing with your food, Sam?"

Sam flushed. "It's for Rachel, sir." He knelt to pick up the jam bottle, to hide his concern. Domino looked a little tired, but Cable looked like hell.

*I'm fine, Sam,* Cable said telepathically. *It's just been a rough couple of months, that's all.*

Sam raised an eyebrow. 'Rough' for Cable meant 'unbelievably hellish' for anyone else. "Jean and Scott are gonna be so relieved to see you," he said carefully. "You've been out o'touch for so long, we were startin' to really worry--" Siku and Cierra chose that moment to make an abrupt entry into the kitchen.

*

"Hi, Nathan," Siku said, trying to sound casual although her heart was racing. She could hardly believe that he was actually here, after being away for so long. He looked down at her, then blinked, a startled smile breaking across his face.

"Siku! You've gotten so big I hardly recognized you."

Siku sighed, suddenly exasperated. Why was that the first thing adults said when they hadn't seen you in a while? It wasn't like there were any other girls with blue fur around that he could confuse her with. "I guess," she said. "I'm glad you're home, Nathan. Are you going to stay for a while?"

Nathan's smile remained, but she saw walls go up behind his eyes, and he didn't answer her question. Standing beside her, Cierra gave a little cough and elbowed Siku in the ribs. Nathan gave an odd twitch, the look in his eyes going distant.

"Cierra Miles," he said absently. "Siku's friend. It's nice to meet you." Cierra gaped up at him, and he frowned, still looking faraway. "What was that about Dolph Lundgren?"

Cierra made an odd noise, and Siku saw Uncle Sam's expression go very strange.

"Ah--Nate," the strange woman said hesitantly. "Usually I wouldn't think of lecturing you about etiquette, but it would've been polite to let Siku introduce her friend."

Nathan's face went red. "Probably, yes," he said, looking ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry, Cierra, Siku. I don't know what I was--I'm sorry." The silence dragged on for a long moment.

Then Aunt Jean walked into the kitchen, carrying Rachel, who gave a shriek of delight as she saw her brother. "Nate, Nate!" Siku's little cousin said, reaching out towards Nathan, whose embarassed look faded as he went over and took his sister from Aunt Jean.

"Siku's not the only one getting big," he said, as Rachel squealed and grabbed at his nose. Nathan winced. "Strong, too."

"Ah'm surprised she remembers you, sir," Uncle Sam said. "A year's a long time at her age."

"You wouldn't forget your big brother, would you, Rachel?" Nathan asked, staring intently into Rachel's eyes. She giggled and shook her head emphatically.

Aunt Jean had a strange expression on her face, as if she had so much to say that she didn't know where to start. But she didn't say anything. Not looking away from Rachel, Nathan nodded, and Aunt Jean suddenly looked relieved. Siku realized they had to be talking telepathically. Aunt Jean frowned, then, and Nathan winced, shaking his head.

"Can we please talk about this later, Jean?" he said out loud. Siku frowned as she realized how tired and depressed he looked. Aunt Jean seemed very worried, too.

"All right," Aunt Jean finally sighed. "Later." She seemed to notice Nathan's companion for the first time, and a warm smile crossed her face. "It's good to see you, Domino. It's been too long."

"Hey, Jean. Try not to worry too much. I've been doing my best to keep him out of trouble."

"A full-time job, if I remember correctly," Aunt Jean said dryly.

Nathan gave an amused snort that sounded forced to Siku. "Why is it that all the women in my life still treat me like I'm twelve years old?" Rachel giggled and punched him in the nose. "Ouch. You're going to be ready for the Danger Room anytime now, kid."

*

Siku and Cierra sat on the stairs, playing with the strange toy Forge had built for Rachel as a birthday gift. It looked like a spider made out of Slinkies, but it was made out of some strange plastic, and its 'body' had a whole series of glowing lights.

"This thing's really supposed to fly?" Cierra asked doubtfully after it bounced up and down the stairs several times.

"Yeah. Forge said it had a trick to it--Rachel doesn't have the patience to sit down and figure it out," Siku said wryly. She noticed the preoccupied look on Cierra's face. "What is it?" she sighed, knowing full well it would be another question about Nathan.

"How can Rachel be his sister?" Cierra asked bluntly, and grinned at Siku's weary look. "I know, I have a one-track mind. You're really not going to tell me about him?"

"Why bother?" Siku grumbled. "He'll be gone again in a couple of days, and no one'll see him for another year." She'd been happy to see him today, but he'd acted like he was walking around in some kind of dreamworld. Like his mind was somewhere very far away--like the rest of her family these days. She scowled and prodded the spider-Slinky down the stairs with a little more force than she'd intended.

She heard voices approaching in the hall below. Cierra started to get up, but Siku reached out and pulled her back down, gesturing at her to be quiet. She grabbed the toy, switching it off.

"--give him the benefit of the doubt?" she heard Uncle Logan say. "You don't know it was him."

"Oh, really?" Uncle Scott snapped. The two of them stopped, not far from where Siku and Cierra sat at the banister. "Do you know of anyone else who could have gotten in past a full SHIELD security detail?"

"Cyke, that factory made Sentinels! All things considered, I'd be inclined to give him a pat on the back rather than a lecture."

"That's not an option!" Scott raved. "Damn it, Logan, when is he going to grow up? He's as headstrong as he was when he was twelve years old!"

Siku's eyes widened as her mind made the connection and she realized Uncle Scott was talking about Nathan. Distracted, she didn't notice that everything was very quiet all of a sudden. Then, she saw her uncles staring up at her and Cierra, looking less than impressed. Siku blushed hotly, ashamed of herself. But part of her was getting angry, too. Bad enough that no one would tell her where Uncle Remy had gone or what he was doing, but now it looked like she'd committed a crime just because she'd overheard something interesting. Uncle Scott's expression softened, growing puzzled as he looked up at her.

"I'm sorry," she finally muttered. She really shouldn't have been eavesdropping, after all.

"No real harm done," Uncle Logan said easily, with a quick look at Uncle Scott. "Just keep what you heard to yourself, all right?" Cierra nodded quickly. Uncle Scott still looked angry, but Siku realized it wasn't directed at her or Cierra. "Dinner's getting cold," Uncle Logan continued. "You two coming?"

*

Siku wished she knew what Uncle Sam put in lasagna to make it taste so--odd. Usually she loved his cooking, but for some reason, he and lasagna didn't seem to go together very well. She picked at her plate, wishing she were somewhere else. Everyone was so tense, she was getting a headache. No one was talking, no one but Uncle Logan was eating--

"Siku, sweetheart," her dad said suddenly, with a bright smile that seemed forced. "Why don't you tell us how your book report went today?"

She stiffened in her chair. "I got a seventy-five," she said through gritted teeth, embarassed as she felt her eyes sting with tears. Her dad set his glass down, looking concerned. "Mr Crawford said 'The Hobbit' was too juvenile for someone of my advanced reading level."

"This the substitute, darlin'?" Uncle Logan asked, chewing loudly. "Hmmph. Sounds like a jerk, Siku. No one with any taste calls Tolkien juvenile."

"Logan, please," her dad said, and then turned back to Siku. "Do you want me to call Mr. Crawford tomorrow?" he asked gently. "You shouldn't be ashamed of a seventy-five, sunshine, but if it really bothers you--"

"It's okay," Siku said hurriedly, wiping her eyes and managing a wan smile. She didn't want to worry her dad--he had enough on his mind these days. "I'll just check and make sure the next book is okay with him."

Her dad looked about ready to say more, but was interrupted as Rachel brought her fist down smack on top of the piece of lasagna sitting on her brother's plate, splattering herself and Nathan quite thoroughly. "BOOM!" she exclaimed.

Uncle Logan guffawed, nearly choking on a mouthful of food, and Cierra gave a nervous laugh. Everyone else watched in absolute silence, waiting a little apprehensively to see Nathan's reaction.

Except Domino. "Nice shot, kiddo," she complimented Rachel, who squealed gleefully.

"BOOM!"

"Boom," Nathan agreed wryly, using his napkin to get the worst of the mess off Rachel's face. "You've definitely got a talent for blowing things up, Ray."

"Too bad it runs in the family," Uncle Scott muttered. Aunt Jean's head whipped around and she glared at him, looking absolutely furious. Uncle Logan cursed under his breath, while Uncle Sam sank his face into his hands with a wince. Siku's dad just sighed and shook his head.

"Well," Nathan murmured, not looking away from Rachel. "I guess I walked right into that one." He carefully finished cleaning his sister's face and then set the napkin aside, not looking at his father. Siku suddenly felt so sorry for him, and only her good manners kept her from turning around and scowling at Uncle Scott.

"Nate?" Domino asked softly.

"I'll get Rachel cleaned up, Jean," he said, getting up and lifting Rachel out of her chair. "Go ahead and finish your dinner." Aunt Jean watched him go, looking angry and worried at the same time. Then she turned around and glared at Uncle Scott, her green eyes smouldering.

Cierra leaned towards Siku. "I think we should have slept over at my house tonight," she whispered ruefully.

Uncle Logan heard, and gave a growl that made the two girls look at him nervously. "Smartest thing anyone's said all night, darlin'," he said disgustedly.

*

"We could sleep on the bed, you know," Siku said, but Cierra shook her head as she crawled into her sleeping bag.

"No, this is cool," her friend said cheerfully. "Kind of like camping." Siku got into her own sleeping bag. They'd stolen most of the cushions off the furniture in the den to put under them. "Too bad it's so cold, or I could have brought that little dome tent Mom boguht me last Christmas and we could've camped for real. Built a fire, made s'mores--"

Siku sighed, leaning back against the piles of cushions. "Yeah. That would've been fun," she said wistfully. Fun wasn't a big thing with her family lately.

Cierra was quiet for a minute. "It's not just the book report, is it?" When Siku didn't answer, Cierra sighed. "C'mon, Siku, if you can't tell me who can you tell?"

Siku grimaced. "I guess it's kind of silly," she said finally. Cierra shook her head, and Siku shrugged. "Yeah, I know what Aunt Jean would say. 'Feelings are never silly'." She took a deep breath and went on. "You know how Uncle Remy's away, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, no one'll tell me where he is. They just say not to worry." A chill went through her, and Siku shivered. "How am I supposed to do that when I can see how worried they are?" she asked planitively. Cierra just listened, an encouraging look on her face. Siku couldn't help it, it all came spilling out, and it felt so good to tell someone--"Everyone else is gone half the time, too. Uncle Scott and Aunt Jean are busy trying to keep Rachel from tearing the house apart, and Dad's spending every night in his lab. I don't want to bother him, not when he's working so hard on the Legacy virus--"

"You should, you know," Cierra said with certainty. "He'd want you to."

"Maybe, but what he's doing is so important--"

"More important to him than you?" Cierra asked shrewdly. Before Siku could answer, a knock came at the door. It opened, and her dad stuck his head in. Cierra looked at her expectantly, and seemed disappointed when Siku shook her head.

"Time to turn the lights out, ladies," he said brightly.

"Can't we stay up a little longer?" Cierra implored. "We don't have anything we have to do in the morning." He came in, smiling at the sight of the little nest they'd constructed.

"Well, maybe we should think of something," he said, kissing Siku good night. "Perhaps you two would like to go into town and do some Christmas shopping. I think Jean was planning a day trip."

"I guess," Siku said with a forced smile. Shopping with Rachel. What fun.

"Good night, you two. Don't stay up talking all night." The door closed behind him, and Siku frowned. He was probably going right back down to his lab, to work all night. She worried when he did that--it wasn't good for him. Her dad never used to drink coffee, but now it seemed like he drank a whole pot by himself at the breakfast table.

She and Cierra did talk for a while, but eventually Cierra got tired of trying to cheer her up and drifted off to sleep. Siku didn't feel tired, though; she'd been having trouble getting to sleep a lot lately. When everything was quiet, she couldn't help but think about Uncle Remy. She knew it was better if she didn't know some of the things her aunts and uncles did--that was just the way things were. And really, if she only knew that Uncle Remy was okay, she wouldn't CARE where he was or what he was doing.

After a while, she heard the murmur of voices from outside. Guiltily, knowing that eavesdropping one in a day should be more than enough for her, she slid carefully out of her sleeping bag and went over to open the window. She listened carefully. The voices were coming from the porch, around the other side of the house where she couldn't see who was out there.

"--beginning to regret suggesting this visit." That was Domino, Siku realized. Nathan's friend sounded testy, but not as angry as her words might suggest.

"It was your idea, Dom?" Uncle Sam sounded a little hurt.

"Don't take it that way, Sam," Domino answered. "It's not that he doesn't want to see you all. He just--hasn't been himself, lately."

"And that means?" Uncle Scott snapped. Siku winced. He still sounded angry. She was so glad she and her dad didn't fight like Uncle Scott and Nathan did.

"Scott, honey," Aunt Jean warned, "either you start thinking before you open your mouth, or I'm going to telepathically shut down your speech center."

Siku blinked, shocked. Aunt Jean never said anything like that unless she meant it.

"Ouch," Siku heard Uncle Logan chuckle. "Keep talking, Cyke. I'd like to see that."

"Me too," Domino growled. "What is your problem, Scott? After all these years, I'd have thought you'd learned better. Nate goes his own way. He always has." She chuckled. "Part of his charm, if you ask me."

"I'm sorry, Domino, but I don't find anything particularly 'charming' about my son running around blowing up government property. Regardless of what it was producing."

"Cool your jets, Cyclops," Domino snapped. "It wasn't our idea." She went on, talking about getting a message from 'Bridge', whoever that was, and something about 'Nimrod'. Siku started to draw back from the window, knowing that this, at least, was a discussion she should NOT be listening to. But then the topic of conversation turned, and she lingered, her curiosity overcoming her guilty conscience.

"This is all a little less than to the point," Domino said tiredly. "Look, I'm worried about him. We've been running all over the world for the last six months--"

"We?" Uncle Sam asked, sounding almost delighted. Siku frowned, puzzled.

"Yes, 'we', Guthrie, so you can wipe that silly smirk off your face."

"I'm glad to hear that!" Aunt Jean said warmly. "It's about time!"

"Well, Nate's not the only one too stubborn to see what's in front of his face sometimes. I'm just sorry we've wasted the last ten years." Siku heard Domino sigh, and when she spoke again, all the sarcasm was gone from her voice. "I wish there were a way to get them back, I really do."

"What is it, Domino?" Aunt Jean asked softly. "What's wrong?"

"I told you we've been globe-hopping. To me, it seems like he's working to some timetable he won't share. There's this sense of urgency about everything he does, as if he knows his time's running out. And he's not handling it well. His nerves are absolutely shot." She laughed, but it didn't sound like she found anything funny. "I'm surprised he didn't take your head off for that crack at dinner, Scott. But the nightmares are the worst."

"He's having nightmares?" Uncle Scott asked, all the anger gone from his voice.

"It seems like such a mild word. They're so bad that he won't let me sleep in the same room with him unless I wear a gun to bed. In case he gets violent, he says."

"That doesn't sound too good, Dom," Uncle Logan growled. "The two of you are still psi-linked, right? So what's he dreamin' about?"

"Being chased. Clocks, all ringing midnight. Finding himself in Stryfe's armor. And the moon. The full moon. He's been shielding himself, so I only catch scattered images." There was a long silence. "I'm no dream interpreter, but taken with everything else, it scares me. I--I don't want to lose him, not so soon--"

No one else said anything for a long time. Siku knelt at the window, afraid and confused. "It's getting chilly out here," she heard her dad say at last. His voice sounded strained. "Let's go inside." Siku heard the porch doors open and close. Only then did she shut the window and crawl back into her sleeping bag. Her heart was pounding.

Not Nathan, too. She pulled the sleeping bag up to her chin, shivering. Was her family cursed or something? Nathan might be gone most of the time, and act like he wasn't really there even when he was home, but that didn't matter. Not really. Her eyes stung as she remembered how kind he'd been to her when she'd gotten so upset the day Rachel was born.

She sat up abruptly and stared at the window, wishing it weren't so cloudy out tonight. Her dad always said that you could talk to God anywhere and anytime, but Siku had always felt closer to God when she was looking out at the stars.

"God, it's Siku," she whispered. "I know I've already asked you to look out for my Uncle Remy, but now my cousin Nathan's in some kind of trouble, too. I'm not sure, but it sounds like he has to do something--something that really scares him." There was a funny lump in her throat, and she swallowed. "Please, just take care of them both."

*

Nathan woke up in a cold sweat, trembling. For a moment, he couldn't figure out where he was. The mansion, he finally remembered. Safe. Domino slept peacefully beside him. His heart started to return to its normal pace, but the fear of the dream refused to entirely leave him. Something had been chasing him, something so huge that its footsteps shook the ground and its laughter echoed like thunder--

He sighed. Not something--someone. And he knew damned well who it was. He glanced at the clock, which read three in the morning. He'd gotten more sleep than usual. He supposed he should be satisfied.

Moving slowly, so he wouldn't wake up Dom, he slid out of bed and threw on a robe. Coffee would be good. Enough coffee, and he could keep himself awake for the rest of the night. Unless Hank had gone on one of his health kicks again and replaced all the good stuff with decaf--

He frowned at the faint light coming from behind the blinds. Moonlight, probably. Repelled and fascinated at the same time, he walked towards the window. Sometimes he thought that it he stared up at the moon for long enough, he wouldn't be afraid anymore. That he'd forget he'd almost died there twice already.

"Third time's the charm," he whispered. Strange, though. It was an odd color for moonlight. He opened the blind, and looked out onto a silver world.

"Snow," he breathed after a long moment. He felt a little light-headed. That was an awful lot of snow for only a few hours. The ground was white for as far as he could see. It was still falling, too. He laid a shaking hand flat against the window, feeling the cold seep in from outside. His body started to relax, muscle by muscle, as he watched the silver snowflakes drift down softly past the window. Deep inside his soul, something hurt and tense and afraid started to relax as well, for the first time in months.

A hesitant smile replaced his usual scowl. Quickly, quietly, he got dressed.

*

*Siku,* came a soft voice in Siku's mind. *Siku, wake up.* She blinked, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom. Cierra snored softly beside her. *You certainly are a sound sleeper, aren't you?* Nathan continued. *I've been calling you for five minutes.*

What's wrong? she asked silently, still not entirely convinced this wasn't a dream.

*Nothing's wrong, Siku. Why don't you get dressed and come outside? I'm in the backyard.* She thought of protesting, and heard him chuckle. *Trust me, Siku.*

Grumbling, she got dressed and crept downstairs, wincing at every creak of the floor. With her luck, Uncle Logan would come running out to see who was sneaking around and end up waking up the whole house. But she got all the way to the ground floor without attracting attention, which surprised her.

*It's because I'm shielding you, Siku,* Nathan said. She frowned, beginning to get a little concerned, but she heard him laugh. *You're too young to worry so much, kid. I just wanted this to be private--between the three of us.*

Three of us? Siku wondered.

*Dress warmly,* Nathan said as she approached the closet in the front hall. *I'd reccomend a winter coat and boots. It's a little cold out here.*

She obeyed, philosophically, and left by the kitchen door. Every trace of sleepiness vanished as soon as she saw the change in the world outside.

"Wow," she said as she walked out into the snow. "This is amazing." The snow was almost a foot deep. She reached down and picked up a handful. Perfect packing snow. Cameron'll be thrilled.

The snow was still falling, but the flakes were tiny, like flecks of silver. She felt like she was in a snow-globe. Above, the sky was an incredible color, somewhere between violet and midnight blue, almost too beautiful to be real. And it was so quiet, like the world was holding its breath.

"Over here, Siku!" Nathan called. She looked to her left, and saw him standing beneath the tree where he'd appeared that afternoon. At his feet was a tiny figure in a purple snowsuit, happily making a snow angel.

"You brought Rachel!" she exclaimed. "Won't Aunt Jean and Uncle Scott be mad?"

Nathan shrugged, smiling faintly. "Maybe, but if she sleeps through the night after this, I think they'll forgive me." He seemed different than he had at dinner, Siku thought. He still looked tired, and she could almost see the sadness lurking in his eyes, but there was a kind of contentment there, too. She felt glad to see it.

She glanced down at her little cousin. Rachel was grinning from ear to ear, her cheeks red and her eyes sparkling. Siku couldn't help but shake her head. Was this the same Rachel who screamed herself hoarse and broke everything she got her hands on?

Nathan reached down and lifted Rachel up off the ground, setting her back on her feet. His left eye flashed, and the snow around Rachel suddenly flew up into the air, stirred by his telekinesis into a gentle cyclone. Rachel squealed with glee and turned in circles until she fell over. Siku was shocked when she gave a shriek of delight, rather than bursting into tears.

"More!" Rachel demanded. "Make the snow fly, Nate!"

Smiling, he obeyed. Siku was amazed to see Rachel wasn't losing interest in the game. Usually, she had the attention span of a gnat.

Nathan was keeping the miniature snowstorm going without any visible effort. *It's not particularly kind to compare your cousin to a gnat, Siku,* his voice said in her head, sounding amused.

"But she's such a pest most of the time," Siku said, then blushed as she realized she'd just unintentionally made a joke. Nathan chuckled, shaking his head. "Why is she so quiet?" Siku asked curiously. "What did you do to her?"

"Not a thing," Nathan protested, and calmed the snowstorm. "Tell Siku why you're so quiet, Rachel," he said to the little girl. She peered up at Siku, smiling.

*Happy,* she said in Siku's mind, very clearly. *Don't need to yell.*

Siku nearly fell over. "She can talk telepathically?" Siku gasped. "But--I mean--I know Aunt Jean said she would one day, but she's only three! I thought--"

"Rachel's a special case," Nathan said, lifting Rachel to her feet and brushing snow off her. He smiled down at his sister as he tightened the drawstring on her hood. "We knew Rachel would be a very strong psi, and strong psionic abilities often emerge before puberty. Mine did." He laughed at Siku's expression. "She's telekinetic, too. Haven't you ever wondered why she breaks things so often?"

Siku blinked. "How could you know she was going to be strong? No--wait, let me guess. More time travel." She shook her head. "It's all so confusing," she said planitively.

"True, but you're right," Nathan chuckled. "For this story, though, you get to ask Kitty the next time she and Pete visit. I should warn you, Siku, it's just about as crazy as mine."

Rachel started to push snow together into a mound. "Snowman," she insisted. Nathan knelt to help, and after a moment, Siku joined them.

"It's nice out here," she said softly. "Really pretty. Thanks for waking me up."

Nathan studied her for a moment. "You sound sad, Siku," he observed. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not really," she said quickly. He'd be able to understand how she felt--after all, he WAS a telepath. But he and Uncle Remy had never really been friendly, and she'd feel uncomfortable talking about one of them with the other. "So why are we out here?" she asked, and knew from the look in his eyes that she hadn't fooled him by changing the subject.

He sighed. "It's hard to explain," he said. "Maybe I should just show you." He offered his hand, and Siku took it. She closed her eyes, suddenly dizzy as she felt his presence in her mind, as gentle as Aunt Jean but somehow stronger. Like golden fire where Aunt Jean was a rosy glow.

*Just relax, Siku.* She opened her eyes and saw him smiling at her. *That's it. Now, turn your head and look over there.* He gestured to their left.

There, in the snow, were three people; a man, a woman, and a little boy who looked about five or six years old. Part of Siku knew these were images that Nathan was projecting into her mind, but they were so real. She could almost feel what they felt. They were dressed strangely, their clothing mismatched as if it had been assembled piece by piece over time. The man was tall, with brown eyes and hair and a square jaw, while the woman had long, curly red hair and blue eyes. Siku was sure she'd never seen them before, but somehow, they were still familiar.

When she saw the boy's metal arm, and the way his left eye glowed, she realized who they were. "That's you, isn't it?" she said. "When you were a little boy in the future, and Aunt Jean and Uncle Scott were taking care of you." It had thrown her for a moment, the way the two adults looked, until she'd remembered her dad telling her that Aunt Jean and Uncle Scott hadn't been in their own bodies at the time.

"That's right," Nathan said softly. "Now stop talking for a minute, and just watch."

Siku watched. The boy--Nathan played in the snow, much like Rachel was doing. Nathan's presence in her mind grew stronger, and suddenly she could sense the young Nathan's emotions. Wonder, joy--because of snow?

"This was the first time I'd ever seen snow," Nathan told her as his younger self hurled a snowball at his father, who dodged, laughing. Aunt Jean joined in, telekinetically dropping a whole load of snow on Uncle Scott's head. Although her eyes were blue instead of green, Siku instantly recognized the teasing look she gave Uncle Scott. "In two thousand years," Nathan continued, "the environment was badly damaged. Global warming had changed the climate, and in most places, the rain was so acidic that you had to take cover whenever it came."

She looked up at him, surprised by the wistful smile on his face. "This was different?" she asked hesitantly.

"We were very far north," Nathan continued as the snowball fight went on, his younger self and Uncle Scott ganging up on Aunt Jean. "Out in the middle of nowhere--it probably snowed maybe once in a decade. Slym--Scott was worried that it was toxic. We had nowhere to go, no shelter."

"It must have been scary," Siku ventured. Nathan shrugged.

"I didn't really think about it at the time. We'd been traveling for days, and I was so tired that I felt like I was walking around in a fog. I remember hearing them talk about what to do. Anyways, the three of us huddled together, and Jean shielded us. But then, we found out that the snow was clean." He chuckled, watching the boy he had been sit down in the snow and stare around in amazement, too exhausted to run around anymore but too fascinated by the world around him to give in to fatigue.

Siku watched Aunt Jean kneel down in the snow beside him. her lips moved, but Siku couldn't quite hear what she said. The young Nathan smiled up at her, a mischievious gleam in his eyes, and she laughed, embracing him. Uncle Scott came over and crouched down beside them, exchanging a few words with Aunt Jean. The look on his face as he looked down at his wife and son was contented, even tender--an expression that Siku didn't often see on the Uncle Scott she knew. Maybe it was because this Uncle Scott wasn't the leader of the X-Men, with all the responsibilities and worries the job brought.

"You were really happy, weren't you?" she asked softly. She felt Nathan's presence fade from her mind. The figures vanished at the same moment, but the warmth and love she'd felt from them remained.

"I was," he said simply. Rachel was visibly slowing down as she continued her attempts to make a snowman. She looked up at them and yawned. "I wanted to give the two of you a memory like this," Nathan continued softly, picking Rachel up and rising to his feet. "Tonight made me remember a time when I could look at the world and see only its beauty. I think I needed to revisit that time." He laughed softly, shaking his head. "I get so--obsessed with details that I sometimes forget why I'm here in the first place." He gave her a smile of such warmth that Siku couldn't help but smile back at him. "What I have to do--it may be hard, but it's worth it. I know it, when I look at you and Rachel."

"I heard them talking tonight," Siku admitted, embarassed. "Why is everyone so worried about you? What do you have to do that's so awful it's giving you nightmares?"

"Thank you, Dom," Nathan said dryly, and then looked back at Siku. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you."

Siku scowled, forgetting that she herself had held back from telling him what was bothering her only a few minutes earlier. "I'm not a baby!" she said. "Why does everyone think I'm too young to know anything important?"

"Siku," Nathan said patiently, sitting down beside her in the snow. Rachel, her eyes bright, peered at Siku, but stayed uncannily silent. "Siku, I don't think you're a baby. And I'm not keeping the information from you because of your age." He gave a bleak laugh. "Ask your Uncle Sam sometime about all the things I used to keep from him. He got very angry with me, more than once, about my secrets."

Siku sighed. Why couldn't she stay angry at him? "So you keep things from people. How come?"

"To protect the people I love," Nathan said calmly. "I live a dangerous life, Siku. But it's the life I chose to lead a long time ago, and I don't like involving other people in the sort of risks I take. Too many people that I love have gotten hurt that way. It's safer if I just do things on my own." Despite what he said, he sounded regretful, Siku thought.

"That doesn't make any sense!" she protested. "You should let the people you love help you!" She thought hard. "What about Domino?" she continued. "I heard the way she talked about you, and I can tell she really loves you. Why can't you share these things with her? And Aunt Jean and Uncle Scott are your parents. Do you think it's fair to leave them out of whatever this is?"

Nathan stared at her, a wistful smile on his face. "You know, Siku, you don't sound ten years old. Are you sure you're not a midget?"

Despite her best effort not to, she giggled. "You know what, Nathan? When I was a little kid, I used to think you didn't have a sense of humor."

"Never lose the ability to laugh at life, Siku. Sometimes that's the only way you can stop crying."

They stared at each other for a minute. "Nathan--I--I don't want anything to happen to you. I'd miss you," Siku said tenatively, feeling a little queasy as she remembered when Uncle Remy had been hurt. "Please be careful."

"I'm always careful," Nathan said gravely. "Don't worry, Siku. I fully intend to be around to see you and Rachel grow up." His voice grew almost teasing. "After all, what would a girl do without her big brother?"

"Yeah, Rachel sure needs--"

"I meant you too, Sikudhani McCoy," Nathan said with mock severity, and Siku started, surprised. He grinned down at her. "Haven't you figured it out yet? If I hadn't gone to the future, I'd have been only a couple of years older than you. We'd have been growing up together."

"Huh," Siku said thoughtfully. "You're right. I never thought of it that way before." She looked up at him almost shyly. "You really think of me like a little sister?"

"Absolutely," Nathan said firmly. "You're very special to me, Siku. Hank's a lucky man, to have a daughter as wonderful as you." His eyes narrowed, his expression suddenly intent. "You should talk to him, you know." Siku started, and he gave her an apologetic smile. "About him being in the lab so much, I mean. I'm afraid I saw a little bit of what you were thinking when we psi-linked back there."

Siku winced. "I was being silly."

"No," he corrected, with a gentleness that reminded her of Aunt Jean. She knew what he was going to say next, before he said it. "Feelings are never silly, Siku."

She started to giggle. She couldn't help it. Nathan kept his face straight, but she could see the merriment in his eyes.

"Okay," she said, when she finally regained her voice. "You're right. I should tell him how I feel--I should have done it before, when all of this started to bother me in the first place. But you should talk to Uncle Scott too, you know." She sighed, not feeling like she wanted to laugh anymore. "Especially if you've got to--go away for a while."

"Here you go again," Nathan grumbled, although she knew he wasn't really angry at her. "Sounding like you're three times your actual age." He sighed, reaching out and ruffling her hair. "But you're right, Siku. You'd think I'd know how important communication is, being a telepath."

"Well, it's probably not all your fault," Siku said helpfully. "Uncle Logan says that both you and Uncle Scott are bull-headed, stiff-necked--"

"I don't really want to hear the rest of this, do I?" Nathan said ironically. Grinning, Siku shook her head.

"Toboggan!" Rachel piped up. Nathan looked at Siku inquisitively.

"Well, there's one in the shed, but it'd be kind of boring," Siku said unenthusiastically. "The hills aren't that big out here."

Nathan's eyes twinkled. "Maybe not, but if I give it a telekinetic boost--"

Five minutes later, Siku and Rachel were sitting on a toboggan that shot over the gently rolling hills as if it had a jet engine attached. Rachel was shrieking at the top of her lungs, and even Siku couldn't stop herself from giving a yell as they actually went airborne for a minute. But she wasn't afraid. Nathan was sitting behind them, holding them securely with the power of his mind. She knew he wouldn't let them fall.

*

"Jean?" Scott asked sleepily as he turned over and saw his wife standing at the window. She glanced over at him, smiling, and he got out of bed, joining her. "Wow," he said softly. "Look at the snow."

*Actually, I think you might like to look over there,* she said in his mind, gently directing him towards one particular hill which three figures on a toboggan were currently hurtling down at a death-defying speed.

"What the HELL?" he gaped. "Why is Nathan--and is that Siku? And RACHEL?"

Jean reached out and shut his mouth, a teasing light in her green eyes. "Look at it this way, Scott. At least Rachel will sleep through the night."

He shook his head, still watching his offspring and his niece. "I'm not even going to ask," he groaned, but couldn't help smiling as Jean drew him into a partial link with the three nighttime adventurers. From Rachel, he felt pure, unadulterated joy, while Siku's mind fairly glowed with happiness. Nathan--Scott got such a sense of freedom from him, a sheer, uncomplicated delight in the world around him and the two girls with him. "They're really having a good time, aren't they?" he said softly.

"Yes, they are," Jean said, an odd note of challenge in her voice. "And I say we go join them."

Scott looked over at her, surprised. His first instinct was to call it a silly idea and go back to bed. But then he thought about what Domino had told them earlier. He might not have much time left to spend with his son. Abruptly, he remembered another snowy night, almost twelve years in the past for him, but still two thousand years in the future. He smiled, despite the pain and worry he couldn't quite manage to put aside.

"You know," he said, speaking past a sudden lump in his throat, "they're going to get tired of that eventually. Then they'll probably want to have a snowball fight."

"Most likely," Jean said with mock solemnity. "That should be interesting. Nate was an awfully good shot when he was five, and I shudder to think of how deadly his aim would be now."

"I think Siku could probably give him a run for his money," Scott said with a chuckle. He looked down at his wife, reflecting on how beautiful she was in the strange, soft light from outside. "How about this? Last one out gets to be 'it'."

Jean smiled wickedly. "Not a good bet to make, hon. I fly, remember?"