Today was such an exciting day! Kealey was free of classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays this semester and an interesting opportunity had arisen as a result. A call had made its way to her cell phone from a local reporter. Kealey had to assume the woman, Maxine, was from the fashion section of one of the newspapers or news stations. The message had been very specific, the reporter wanted to speak to the creator of the fabulous costumes that the X’s wore that made such a statement. Kealey bristled with pride again…even though that was a bit egotistical. Someone was noticing her work…and she was only in her third year of design school.

The apartment was as tidy as it was going to get, and the samples and sketches that Maxine had requested over the phone were carefully laid out to display them to their best advantage. There were only two costumes in the apartment, but Kealey had set them up as well, ready to use them as examples of exactly how things worked. This interview was going to be great publicity for her, and hopefully for the X-Men too. Sam had to have been the one to give Maxine her number…the blond filed that away so she could remember to ask the reporter. That was important information. Kealey needed to know who to thank.

Checking the clock, Kealey made her way to the kitchen to check on the sweet tea she had brewed that morning and put into the fridge to cool, then the lemonade she’d made as a backup. Impressions were important here, and she didn’t want to give the wrong one. This was, after all, her first shot at making a name for herself and the woman would be arriving soon.

This was her first shot at making it. Not just making a name for herself: been there, done that. But she’d been an intern: she’d spent more time in the field buying Astro Moose coffee for the lead reporters than doing actual reporting. Even after she’d gotten her segment, she’d still been on copy-machine and memo-writing duty. Unskilled labor.

Her internship was up.

Maxine Ralls was all grown up, and getting a salary now. This was her re-launch, as a bona fide reporter. The Summer Series was going to shoot her ratings through the roof. She knew it. She could touch it, taste it.

The red head ran her hands over her skirt, brushed a paperclip tentacle back to the mesh on her purse, and rang the doorbell. First the bone bikini segment. Then this: X-Fashion designs. Then...

This was going to be perfect.

No—this first, then the bikini. Then...

It had to be.

The doorbell rang, and Kealey couldn’t help it. She let out a little squeak of excitement and made her way out the intercom, ”Be right there!” she announced, then headed for the door without waiting for an answer.

Down the stairs she went, smoothing out the simple skirt she’d worn and making sure her tank top was blousing over the hemline like it was supposed to. It simply wouldn’t do to have a mussed fashion designer getting interviewed by a fashion reporter.

Kealey reached the door and pulled it open. A rather young, striking, redhead stood there waiting, and the blond smiled, holding out a hand as she casually examined the woman's emotions. The reporter was excited, nervous, and a jumble of other little things that weren't unusual for a situation like this. Man, reporting had to be a tough job.

”Maxine? I’m Keaely. Come on in out of the heat and we’ll get something to drink.”

“Thank you,” the red head said, watching her step on the stairs. New heels—a pre-emptive gift to herself, for the paycheck she’d be getting next Friday. Now if she could just avoid spraining an ankle, she wouldn’t have to take her new health benefits for a spin.

The apartment was on the second floor. Maxine wasn’t unfamiliar with the Iris apartments—she’d actually visited the place awhile back, after the city-wide neural bomb. The senior reporters had sent the interns scurrying to investigate all mutant-owned business at the epicenter. This place had come up clean, of course. It was just apartments, over a local clinic. Owned by a unicorn.

Seriously, what did the world do for entertainment before mutants came along?

The red head stepped inside the apartment, absentmindedly wrapping Rex’s tentacles back where they belonged: her purse, not her thigh.

“What a nice apartment,” she said, by way of breaking the ice. “Have you lived here long?”

Up they went into the apartment, and Kealey couldn’t help but notice Maxine’s shoes as they walked. It seemed odd to comment on someone’s shoes right off the bat, so she filed the information away for later. The girl obviously had taste.

They entered the apartment and Maxine complimented the place, then asked how long Kealey had lived there.

”Oh, a while.” Kealey said, shrugging her shoulders at the red-head’s casual question.

”I moved here…then ended up staying at the Mansion for quite some time.”

Kealey stopped, and grinned. ”Now Shin and I live here.”

The blond had forgotten someone, and with his usual perfect timing, a young husky made his way into the living room to greet the newcomer.

”With Thor, of course.”

”Do you live in Manhatten?” she asked in polite small talk return, then gestured to the kitchen.

”Like I said, I’ve got lemonade and sweet tea. Would you like either?”

“I’m only a few blocks away, actually. Small city,” she answered, holding out her hand for the pooch to sniff. Dogs: she actually had a slight phobia, there, now that you mention it. There was just something about the way they stood around, all fur and muscles, their teeth on display for everyone to see. Their big, white, predatory teeth. Just... Thor here. Maxine drew back her hand as soon as it was polite, after a too-hearty scratch to the huskie’s ears, more to make friends with his owner than with him.

“Oh, sweet tea, please.” Maxine followed Kealey into the kitchen. Thor followed Maxine, bumping into her side as he trotted past. She brushed his hair off of her skirt.

“What first got you involved with the Mansion and the X-Men?” She asked, offhandedly accepting the white pad that a paperclip tentacle had dug out of her purse. A black pen flew up of its own volition, perching between her fingers. If Kealey noticed, Maxine would just give a shameless little smile. She hadn’t been able to learn the woman’s powers... but given the company Ms. Quinn kept, the x-gene should be nothing new, to her.

”Coming right up.” Kealey said, heading for the kitchen. She was very fond of sweet tea herself, and retrieved two glasses. Maxine had followed and asked another question, so Kealey answered while she poured.

”Well, I was studying at the Full Circle Bookstore and I ran into Sam. He saw my sketches and offered me an interview at the Mansion. I took him up on it, and he asked me to come up with some designs for uniforms.”

Kealey turned with a glass and offered it to the redhead…who was already holding a pen and notebook. ”Oh! We’re starting?” she exclaimed. ”I’ll carry these back to the livingroom.”

And she did. The room they’d previously left was sparsely, but nicely furnished in pieces that Kealey had collected from secondhand stores and re-covered herself.

Reaching one of the end tables, Kealey sat down the tea, gesturing to Maxine that she should sit, then retreating to the opposite end of the couch. ”What else?” the blond asked. Thor, deciding the new company wasn’t likely to shower him with any more attention, moved to his appointed doggy pillow in the corner, turned until he was satisfied, then lay down. Humans were boring.

“Sam, Sam…” The black pen knew that tone: it tapped itself against her pad twice in an I’m thinking manner, before she could do it herself. She gave it a little scritch behind the cap for being cute. “Code name Cold Steel, right? Just making sure I’ve got everyone straight. It’s so confusing, all this ‘code name, real name’ stuff… Do you have a code name?”

That would be adorable. Maybe Maxine should come up with one for herself. Better yet: maybe she should run a blog contest to name her. A blog contest for charity, even. She’d been trying to bank brownie points with the city, with all her ‘ten percent of the sales go to this, that, and the NYPD.’

>> ”Oh! We’re starting?”

Maxine jumped a little at the exclamation, startling out of her thoughts to smile sheepishly over her notepad. “Sorry. I just want to make sure I get everything down right. I haven’t done too many face-to-face interviews.”

She followed the woman back to the living room area, and took both the offered seat and her cup of sweet tea. Mmm. “Did you make this yourself? It’s good.”

>> “What else?”

“Let’s see… Some background questions first, I think; give our viewers a chance to know you. It’s the personal angle that really sticks with people.” She flipped a few pages, and found what she was looking for. “You’re from Ireland originally, right? What brought you to the States?”

Kealey nodded in confirmation when the red-head asked for confirmation on Sam’s alter ego name. As to whether or not she had one, Kealey laughed. “Oh heaven’s no. For one, my talents don’t lend themselves well to one. Secondly, I’d feel so silly.”

Code names were good for some people, but for Keaely, nah. Her own name was good enough.

Maxine had the good grace to look sheepish when Kealey was surprised that the interview had already started, and the blond dismissively waved a hand. ”Oh, it’s not a problem.” she said, ”I understand completely.”

Maxine complimented the tea, and Kealey beamed. She was getting good at this whole ‘keeping a house’ thing and she nodded at the compliment. Then the questions started in earnest.

”From Ireland, yes.” she started, then considered her answer to the rest of the question. There was a delicate balance here between sounding evasive and not giving away more than she was comfortable with about her reasons for leaving Ireland.

” Basically I wanted to help. The organization I worked with at home had seen what was happening here with the registration. They thought maybe I could help people. Everything had ended by the time I got here, God be praised, but I wanted to stay. Call it intuition, but everything worked out beautifully.”

Kealey knew this was supposed to be an interview, but she couldn’t help but be curious about the woman sitting across the couch from her, so she asked a question back, ”What about you? How did you end up here?”

Oh heaven’s no, Maxine scribbled in her notepad. That was so adorable. She really needed a reason to drop that on the air, sometime.

Really, everything about the woman was adorable. The way she beamed over the tea compliment, like a proud homemaker; the perfect arrangement of everything in this room, probably re-done half a dozen times before Maxine rang the bell; and her accent. Oh heavens, her accent.

Maxine was in love. Why hadn’t she brought a video camera?

God be praised, she scribbled, as the woman continued.

The red head looked up, as Kealey asked her own question. She gave an un-self-conscious grin. “I’m a New Yorker, born and breed. My parents were from here, my grandparents were from here, and my great-great grandparents came through Ellis Island and didn’t get far.” They could only trace the x-gene back as far as a great aunt on her mother’s side, though. A very weak embroidery manipulator. No surprise, there: mutants weren’t exactly common back then, and they keep their heads down. Still, she’d always wondered if her various great-great-somethings had found each other for reasons other than romance. There was no denying the absurdly high concentration of genetic deviants at family reunions.

“What sort of organization did you work with? Something religious?” It was a curious question, and a guess. A fairly educated guess: just look at her notes.

“You’re only the second person I’ve met the whole time I’ve lived here who is actually from New York!” Kealey exclaimed with obvious delight. It was true. The only other person Kealey could think of who she knew for a fact had grown up in the city.

”Oh, Ellis Island…all that history.” the blond breathed. Then took a sip her tea and waited for the next question. It came promptly and was difficult to answer.

“It was a church organization. We were very much into philanthropy. When it became obvious what I could do, I was the most likely candidate for movement.” she explained, voice a bit wistful. It seemed like so long ago now. A different life. She really needed to write.

“It just turned out I was a little late. I started working in the Main Branch of the library and the rest is history.”

A pious Irish immigrant turned quiet librarian turned vigilante costume designer. Maxine could work with that. The only thing that would make it better would have been if she’d worked in the dime-novel romance section, or had been a nun.

“So Sam saw your sketches, and that started things off with the X-Men..." The red head continued, recapping her earlier scribbles. "Where you already in fashion school, then? What got you into fashion design in the first place?”

She grinned. "And be honest: did you picture yourself in such a unique role when you set out?"

She wasn't quite sure what adjective to use for Kealey's place in the X-Men's wardrobe. 'Unique' sounded good; she'd go with that.

The questions were flowing easily now, and the answers weren’t too difficult either. Kealey nodded her head to indicate that Maxine’s version of events was correct. “ I was in fashion school already. I thought it would be something nice to add into my portfolio when I graduate. “

As to how she’d gotten into fashion. “I always liked to sketch, and I was always into fashion. I learned the basics of sewing as a method to cope with the development of my powers.” Kealey explained by rote. Nobody had ever asked her that question before, but she couldn’t imagine the question being too much of a probe. “ When there wasn’t anything for me to do philanthropically, I started to make a new life.”

Had she ever pictured herself in such a unique role with the X-men? Kealey shrugged her shoulders, “I get to help the people I care about stay safe while they’re helping others.” she said with a smile. “No matter how unique that is…I can’t think of anything better.”

Something nice to add to her profile. After this aired? Oh yes, Kealey would be quite the stand-out candidate.

It wasn’t a malicious thought. Any press was good press, as they say: there were aspiring fashion design hopefuls who would kill to get national press coverage. The red head was going to jump start Kealey’s career, right along with her own.

>> “I get to help the people I care about stay safe while they’re helping others. No matter how unique that is…I can’t think of anything better.”

“That’s such a sweet philosophy,” Maxine sighed. She couldn’t help but be a little envious: clearly, the designer’s world didn’t revolve around back-stabbing and climbing the corpses to reach the top. The same could not be said of broadcast journalism…

“Would you mind showing me some of your designs, now?” She asked, her eyes straying to the pictures and samples she’d spied set up across the room. These, she couldn’t wait to see.

Ah yes, the showing of designs. Kealey nodded her head vigorously and gestured to the drawings and samples that she’d laid out on the table earlier that day. ”I’m sorry that I only have two of the actual uniforms…but most people don’t want to give them up.”

She gestured to her sketch book, the pages were full of ideas and notes about each X-team member’s powers and how she could make the suits work best for their particular talents.

”The only actual ones I have here are my own and Shin’s, and his is just the jacket I made.” she said, gesturing to the long, white coat that was draped over one of the chairs in her apartment. ”I custom make everything to each person’s specifications and requests, so that there aren’t any problems because of mutations.” Kealey gave Maxine a conspiratorial look, ”Most guys these days aren’t all that interested in a spandex jump suit, so I have to be creative.” she gestured again at the table, and sat back.

”You’re welcome to look at the sketches though, and ask any questions you want.”