Sam had spent a good amount of the day exploring, eating, getting an idea of direction, it was always important to know the landscape. Maps were a waste of money in her case, it was good to know where cheap resources could be found. She took in the people, how they dressed, how they carried themselves about, how they reflected what they thought of her. It was always a mix of reactions, more so depending at what stage of hair growth she was at. The less hair, the more sympathy. While she wasn't exactly proud of using this to her advantage, it never actually stopped her from doing just that.

Sam had found a park bench and began reading Alice in Wonderland, even though she had just bought the book, she immediately skipped quite a few pages. In her backpack that had seen better days was three water bottles and various food. Sam was enjoying several granola bars, some chocolate, a peanutbutter and jelly sandwich, and a banana… At least that's how much some little kid saw Sam just chow down like there was no tomorrow.

"Why are you bald?"

Sam lowered her book, looking away from the pages to see a young boy staring at her, he just genuinely wanted to know why she was bald. She looked around him for a moment, seeing what she assumed was the boy's mother talking with another woman a few feet away. He kept standing there, staring at her.

"I'm growing it out." Sam said, closing her book and giving him her full attention. The longer he stared at her, the more he tried to connect whatever dots that was happening in his head. Kids came up with some weird stuff.

"What's that on your leg?" He pointed to the hole of her ripped jeans, showing part of a tattoo underneath.

"It's The Brave Little Toaster." Sam would move the hole of the jeans a bit, showing off the cartoon character. This didn't seem to make any bell ring in his head, he had no clue who that character was. She sighed heavily, giving him a sympathetic look, and feeling a little old.

"Don't you have a job? Mom doesn't have a job and that's why we're here today." Ah, the honesty of kids.

"Nope." Sam replied, picking up her book again, trying to read, but the boy continued on talking to her.

"What are you reading?" he came a little closer trying to look at it and the pages she had. "You're an adult, why does your book have pictures in it?"

"It's Alice in Wonderland," she closed the book with a snap which had the boy take a step back. "Do you know how to read? No? Well take it." She held it out to him.

"Mom says I'm not suppose to take things from strangers." He stepped back a little bit more, though slowly as he did kind of want the book.

"Well, I'm Sam. You can take this to your Mom and give it to her and tell her the weird cancer girl wanted you to have it and you'll pretty much like break my heart if you don't learn to read it, ya know?" She smiled at him, holding out the book still. He took it carefully from her and muttered a thanks while going to his Mom.

Sam sat back and watched, opening a water bottle and taking a gulp. She laughed to herself as she watched his mother's reaction. The surprised, confused, a dash of anger, then looking around and spotting Sam. Sam would wave to the mother, as she could hear the boy repeating her words of a cancer victim and the woman's face changing from kind of angry and annoyed to sadness and regret on her previous feelings. The woman gave Sam this pitiful thankful smile, the kind that says 'Yes I'm smiling, but it's a sympathy smile because I feel bad for you.' and gave a little wave back.

"I'm gonna have to buy that book… again." She sighed as she dug in her backpack for her last sandwich.

Norah’s little hands were wrapped around Natalie’s left hand as she stepped along the pavement. They had just come from the shoe store, where they’d picked up a pair of light-up high tops, complete with glitter, lace, and flowers. The six-year-old was more than mesmerized as she watched her shoes light up with each step.

They were taking a walk through Central Park in the middle of a warm summer day. After working weekends for a few weeks and Norah spending more time with a nanny or with her dad than Natalie would have liked, she felt like it was in both of their best interests for her to take a ‘sick’ day. They had taken the opportunity to shop around a bit and take some mother daughter time. The day had been a good one so far.

Natalie felt strange being out in the middle of the day. She worked insane hours, and when she wasn’t working, she had Haven commitments or social commitments. There was hardly a moment of her life that wasn’t claimed by something else, so to be there, obligation free, felt strange. Too free, almost. She felt very mom-like, too. She had ditched her usual formal attire for a casual pair of (tight) jeans and her most casual blouse.

The girl had been preoccupied for most of their walk, giving Natalie some time to think and get lost in the fresh air. It wasn’t until she saw a little boy run off with a new book that Norah eventually looked up and turned her focus from her new shoes.

”Mommy, she doesn’t have any hair,” Norah stage whispered to her mom, tugging at her arm as she pointed obnoxiously toward the woman sitting on the bench. Leave it to a child to say something completely inappropriate.

”Hmm?” Natalie made a noise of confusion at first, distracted by her own thoughts. She hadn’t caught the comment at all.

”Her hair, mommy. It’s gone.”

”Norah,” Natalie hissed, having finally registered what she was saying. The girl was pointing to a woman sitting alone on a bench. She was completely hairless, probably by choice or medical complications. Either way, it was none of their business. ”I’m sorry. She doesn’t mean anything by it,” she explained, addressing the woman.

If I had a dollar for each time… Her thought trailed as she chewed the bite of her sandwich, looking over slowly to the little girl who was pointing at her. Kids were great that way. What most people construe as mean, or simply not suitable, kids were just saying what they saw. Sam was out of the ordinary, she felt this was mainly the lack of eyebrows. They really made a face come together, without them, nearly anyone would look weird. She swallowed her bite, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth while the girl's mom apologized.

"It's nothing to worry about." Sam replied to the mother before turning her attention to the little girl who's named had been hissed. She gave her a smile, then moved the area where her eyebrows would have been up and down a few times, seeing what kind of reaction Sam might get back out of it.

"I use to have hair, lots of it actually." She told Norah, leaning back a bit on the bench, looking off to the side as if thinking of a fond memory. "I was probably about your age I think… Had hair all the way down to my butt." Her eyes glanced over to the girl gauging the response, Sam could barely remember when she even had hair that went past her ears. She turned back to face the girl directly. "But then I never showered or washed my hair and then fwoomp!" Sam's arms and hands mimicked the motion of what would had been her hair falling down "It all fell off! And that's why hygiene is important." Sam finished with a serious look to her face, nodding a little as if it might increase the credibility of her story. But then she started to laugh.

"I'm kidding, your hair won't fall off from not showering… Probably. " She shrugged a little, easing back into her seat. Oh right, the mom was still there… Awkward. Sam gave her a sheepish smile and a raise of her shoulders. An international symbol of 'My bad, what can you do though?'. It was harmless enough, unless the kid would now be obsessed with showering…. Well, there's worse things to be obsessed about.

Natalie’s hand had wrapped protectively around Norah’s as they stopped in front of the woman. The rule of not talking to strangers had been thrown out the window as Natalie attempted to apologize for Norah’s rash comment. She hadn’t meant anything mean by it, but it had come out nonetheless, and actions had to be accounted for that. Norah needed to learn that, even if it wasn’t the best situation for a teachable moment.

The woman (Natalie wasn’t quite set on that assignment of gender, but she stuck with it), didn’t actually seem to be that offended by the comment. She (the voice gave it away) brushed it off and even made a little show of the fact that she didn’t have eyebrows.

Natalie gave her a small, half smile, and started to make a move to usher Norah along. They have more shopping and walking to do, and a lot less talking to strangers. However, before she could, the woman kept on talking to Norah. She had begun to explain, or rather spin a tale, about how her hair had all fallen out because she refused to shower at a young age.

The brunette narrowed her eyes at the woman on the bench and put her free hand on her hip, moving several bags in order to do so. She didn’t care for the things she was saying, even if she’d just had to apologize to her.

Norah, on the other hand, looked a little terrified and a little grossed out. ”Eeeww,” she wrinkled her face at the idea. It was honesty at its finest. The young girl hadn’t yet learned the ability to lie from either of her parents. Or whisper, for that matter. ”Did you smell really bad?”

”She’s telling a joke, Norah. Haha, funny. Your hair won’t really fall out, and that’s a fact,” Natalie explained as politely as she could manage, her eyes moving slowly away from the woman who was now shrugging. Now she was going to have to deal with the fallout from Norah being afraid to smell or showering constantly for the next few days until something else distracted her. ”Isn’t that right, miss…?” she paused in order to let the woman fill in her name. 

Norah was too distracted to listen to reason. Despite her initial apprehension, she took on the new situation like she had taken on Nate’s giant spider, Parker: with blind acceptance. ”Can I touch your head?” she asked innocently, her eyes wide as she looked at the woman’s scalp.

”Norah! No!” Natalie hissed a second time. They were really going to have to go over a few things when they got home.

Parents could be such a drag sometimes, Sam could tell that Mom was not as nearly amused or interested as much as her daughter was. Shopping bags had shifted and the posture was assumed. This Mom was looking done with the entire situation. Sam was guessing she was that type of person who pretended homeless people didn't exist as she walked by them, or if they did make it into her field of vision she kept her nose in the air. She seemed like a person who would make a schedule and keep to it very strictly and an upset in that schedule was not acceptable. Sam was betting she was that upset now. Norah though, she was a delight, she hoped that that wasn't lost to her Mom at home.

"I did smell bad from not showering," Sam answered honestly. "But it took a while, kids don't really smell as bad as adults do when they don't shower." Sam knew this from years of experience, it was like puberty hit and all the smells just intensified. Sam mused to herself regularly that her real power was not puking from really awful stenches. Maybe it was the years of burning nose hairs that steeled it up.

Even though Mom was not happy with Sam, she did at least remain polite, it was a little trying at points, but she kept civil at least what Sam assumed was for her daughter. Sam couldn't really fault the Mom as annoying as it was, they both looked well taken care of. Nice clothes, clean, well fed. While Mom wasn't pleased with how her daughter was reacting to something new, she didn't yell or curse, she didn't just drag her off and she didn't just ignore the situation.

"Sam. Just call me Sam." She replied, 'Miss' was not really a title she ever held and she also didn't let people call her a lady if she could help it, unless it would benefit her. She made no movement from her spot on the bench, no outstretched arm to shake hands, not that she thought the Mom would want to shake her hand anyway.

It took a lot in her to not start laughing at Norah asking to touch her head and her Mom immediately trying to squash that. This apparently was not the behavior Mom wanted for her daughter, it was kind of sad to Sam. She didn't see what was wrong with asking, but polite society didn't run that way Sam guessed.

"Sorry kiddo, I would prefer if you didn't. But thank you for asking first, that was a really good thing to do. It never hurts to ask." Some adults didn't even think about asking first. Sam gave her a small smile though that looked kind of sad about it too. Sam would've totally loved seeing the Mom's face if she said yes, but it wasn't for her that Sam said no. She said no for herself. While Sam looked weird being hairless right now, people could come to conclusions that she was probably sick or just a really odd person. That illusion was always shattered when they felt how hot she was. Sometimes Sam had managed to explain/lie her way out of it, but it was easier just not to dive into that if she didn't have to. Not everyone was cheering for team mutant after all.

Natalie couldn’t believe how badly she’d failed at teaching Norah rules about ‘stranger danger’. Had all that talk of what could happen if she approached someone dangerous gone in one ear and out the other? Natalie shook her head at the little girl. There was clearly something that they had to go over when they got home, and she was going to have a chat about her school system and the obvious lack of education that they were giving in that area.

Worse than that, she wasn’t just talking to the stranger. She was asking to touch her. Natalie wanted to pull out her hair.

Thankfully, ‘Sam’ discouraged her. She either had some sort of reason for not wanting to be touched, or, despite everything, she was trying to give Natalie an olive branch. If Norah touched one stranger and ended up alright, then that would be her baseline for all future interactions. “Weird guy wanting me to get into a car with him? Oh, well I touched Sam’s head and was fine, so that must be fine too!” She was going to lose her mind.

Natalie dipped her head at Sam a little as a thank you before turning back to Norah. ”Norah, say thank you to Sam, alright? That was nice of her to let you ask that.”

”Thank you, Sam,” Norah mumbled, clearly a little disappointed that she didn’t get to feel her head. Luckily, she would survive the experience.

Natalie then pulled her along the pavement with another nod toward Sam, trying to get her daughter to a place that was at least out of earshot. Norah complained as they moved along, wanting to go back and talk to her new friend. Natalie ignored her and kept walking, the girl in tow.

Eventually, they made it to a spot a few feet away from the bench, where Natalie could crouch (as much as her heels would let her) in front of her. ”Norah, do you remember anything I taught you about stranger danger?” she probed quickly, holding her daughter’s hands in her own.

Norah shrugged. ”I guess,” she replied.

”So then you should know that we shouldn’t talk to people on benches that we don’t know, right?”

”But Sam’s not a stranger! She’s my friend!” Norah enthused.

Natalie sighed heavily and put her finger and her thumb on the bridge of her nose, trying to pinch away the frustration. When she opened her eyes, Sam would look very different to the little girl. Instead of the smooth head and regular features, she had long oily hair and frightening, almost comical features. It was nothing too horrifying, but it would be enough to put a six-year-old off the idea. Natalie wasn’t a fan of using her powers on Norah, but she felt like the situation called for something a little out of left field.

”Would you still want to talk to her if she looked like this, Norah?” Natalie asked her, trying to remain gentle as she did her best to get her point across. ”Because strangers can come in-”

Natalie stopped her spiel as tears began to pour out of Norah’s eyes. ”Sam doesn’t look like that, mommy! Make her look normal again!”

Natalie sighed and dropped the illusion, watching as Norah ripped away from her and ran back toward the woman on the bench. Norah had grown up knowing about her illusions, so she knew exactly how fake they were. Nothing that she could do would make her scared of the situation; it would only make her sad. 

Another perfect experience for the scrapbook.

As the woman stood up and followed behind the girl, she could hear what she was saying to the woman. ”Mommy made you look funny, but you don’t really look funny, do you?”

Great. Just great.

Mom had eased up a bit, not much, a bit though since Sam declined being touched. Sam still frowned a little seeing the disappointment in Norah. It was what it was and she gave a small wave, interaction done, she could return to her lunch before the next person pointed out her lack of hair currently. She had noticed they didn't get very far, biting into her sandwich and looking out at the rest of the park. Sam couldn't hear what they were talking about, other than a snippet of her name and being friends. Ooooh boy, she started a thing. Crap. Maybe if she ignored them they would carry on, just keep eating and looking everywhere but there.

"I.. Uh..What?" Sam asked Norah who had ran back over to her. She sighed softly, scooting over on the bench and patting it to give the little girl a place to sit by her. Her Mom made her look funny? What did that even mean? Whatever it was, it had upset Norah considerably. "I mean, I always look kinda funny without eyebrows." Sam smiled all the same, wiggling her lack of eyebrows once more. But that didn't seem to be the reason Norah was so upset. She tucked her sandwich away back into her backpack, pushing it off to the side, lunch was going to have to wait.

Sam looked to Norah's Mom who was making her way over, she seemed in a way defeated in whatever she had tried to do. Sam couldn't know what it was like to have a kid and attempt to raise them into decent people. She only knew what she's seen, glimpses into the life of others, to know their daily struggles was a stretch for her. But that didn't mean she was allowed to mess things up because she was but a small moment in their life. Kids crying was like kryptonite too. Damn those crocodile tears.

"I think Mom made a mistake?" Sam offered looking to Norah's mother, her eyes wide, she had no clue what was going on. "So I think we should take a biiiiiiig breath and listen for a second, ok?" She would take a big breath regardless if Norah joined in and let it out slowly. Sam didn't want to cause a problem, but it seemed somehow she had done just that. Kids liked her. She was weird, but nice, and treated them like real people who had their own thoughts and didn't fault them for that. It was easy to forget that sometimes, all the parent wants to do is teach right from wrong, protect their kids from harm, and how to function in society one way or another. But kids, kids didn't care about any of that, not really.

Natalie took in a deep breath as she watched Norah climb onto the bench beside Sam. It was far less than ideal; her plan had backfired far enough to send her reeling in the other direction. She was already talking to strangers, and now she was sitting with them and asking to touch them? At six? Where had she gone so wrong?

In the very least, Sam wasn’t making any moves that she shouldn’t have. In fact, she seemed to be calming Norah down, getting her to take long, deep breaths. The tears had slowed by the time that Natalie was standing in front of the bench with her shoulders slightly slumped. A stance of defeat was not a common one for the woman; she wasn’t used to the experience.

With a sigh, she nodded to Sam as a thank you for not being… well, whatever else she could have been. It felt wrong to sit, so she crouched in front of the two of them. It seemed awkward and strange, but she had no idea how else to interact with the sobbing little girl in that strange situation. It wasn’t as if she was about to join them on the bench, or something.

Quickly, she shot a glance at the bald woman before putting her hands on Norah’s knees. ”Norah, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Let’s go home and we can have some ice cream, alright? Don’t you want to see your shoes light up as we walk home?” 

Norah sniffled and wiped under her eyes. ”I want to stay and talk to Sam,” she announced quietly.

With a sigh, Natalie relented. She was done failing for the day, and Sam didn’t seem to be all that harmful. What was the use pulling her away when it wouldn’t hurt to stay for a few more minutes? ”Alright, we can stay for a little bit. Go ahead. Say what you’d like to say.”

The girl brightened a bit and sniffed up the last bit of her tears. ”Okay, um,” she paused. Now that she had the thing that she’d wanted, she didn’t seem to know what to do with it. ”Do you have a family?”

If Sam had cookies, Norah's mom would've deserved them, all she had was chocolate though and Sam wasn't about to go sharing her chocolate. But there was an amount of respect that was earned watching the interaction. Obviously the woman couldn't be all that bad given how she treated her daughter. She might slaughter puppies in her spare time, but Sam could see that she was doing her version of her best for her daughter. And in heels. Sam would be kind of grouchy too if her feet were hurting all the time wearing shoes like that. Everyone would probably be happier if they had cool light up shoes like Norah.

It was kind of comical to Sam now that Norah was given the opportunity she fought for, to have to think about what she wanted to do with it. It was an important lesson, as was what one did after they achieved it. Sam could recognize these little things, knowing they could amount to bigger things in the future and how they could shape a person to come. There were people she met along the way that stuck with her, the lessons she learned through them, they've helped her survive. They never seem important either, or so for Sam it's always worked out that way, until she looked back upon it.

"I did. It was my Dad and I for the most part, but he passed away quite a few years back." Sam said after some thought of her own, the question had taken her aback, but she didn't shy away from it either. Sure Sam had a mother and sisters, but how could she really say they were family at this point? It'd been over twenty years now since she last saw them, she could probably walk by them on the street and they wouldn't register who she was. They moved on and continued to have lives of their own. Her father always told her it was better this way, they couldn't understand her and her mutation could have hurt them. And it wasn't like she could just leave her dad to go somewhere that felt like she'd not be welcome, by the time she was capable of traveling safely on her own he needed her to take care of him. She had resigned to it, it was what it was, and there was no changing the past. To say it hadn't crossed her mind to go home after her dad passed would've been a lie, but what kind of meeting would that have been? It was easier to stay gone.

"So you're passing up ice cream to sit here and talk to me though?" Sam's face would light up with a smile, it was kind of nice to be chosen in a way, but seriously this kid had some dedication. Sam would have voted for ice cream personally. "What's your favorite flavor? Mine is cotton candy or a banana split." She obviously had a very mature palate... of a 10 year old maybe. She made a mental note to scout out the ice creameries in the area and local supermarkets, ice cream did sound really good now that she thought more about it. Were there ice cream trucks here? She hadn't spotted any yet, but maybe they stuck to different areas? Was there an ice cream turf? Did food trucks have turf wars with one another? File that away for now, she'd find out later.

Norah was a girl with eyes bigger than her abilities. If she wanted something, she would fight for it, just like her mother had taught her to, but she didn’t always necessarily know why she wanted it. She had wanted to talk to Sam, but as soon as she got the opportunity to do so, she hadn’t really known what to do with it. She had wanted it, but she was a six year old with an average amount of social awareness, so conversations weren’t always the smoothest things for her. Questions were a good way to start, but once she had asked one, her mind was already wandering a bit.

>>"I did. It was my Dad and I for the most part, but he passed away quite a few years back."

”Sorry,” Norah said quietly. She at least had the social grace to remember to do that. Natalie held back a sigh and gave an apologetic look to the woman on the bench. ”Was your dad nice? My dad is nice.” They were going in circles there and all that Natalie could do was watch.

>>"So you're passing up ice cream to sit here and talk to me though? What's your favorite flavor? Mine is cotton candy or a banana split."

Norah’s eyes lit up. She really did love ice cream, as much as she was suppressing the desire. ”I like cotton candy. It’s all pink and pretty and it tastes really good,” she nodded, as if she was sharing some big, important secret. ”Mommy says it’s not good for me, though, so we only get it on special accusations.”

”Occasions.”

”O-ccasions,” the little girl repeated. That day was a special occasion, and she was passing up her opportunity for her favourite treat. The realization seemed to cross her face, and she frowned. Ice cream was something that she wanted to fight for. ”Can we go get ice cream now, mum?”

Natalie nodded, relieved to be finished with the situation. That was the great thing about six-year-olds; they only had a limited attention span. ”Yes, we’ll go now. Say goodbye to Sam-”

”No! I want Sam to come!” Norah cried.

Natalie sighed deeply and ran a hand through her combed hair. There was no winning there and she did not want to deal with a temper tantrum in the middle of Central Park. ”I guess it’s up to Sam whether she wants to come or not.”