(Pulling Martin Stein from Every Day Keeps Killing Me.)

Quiet was not the word of the day. Sara knew quiet and in New York city the definition was impossible to find. The problem with finding a quiet place became even more apparent about a week in a half ago, when Sara had lost her eye sight to a gun happy x-cop with a vindictive side. Without her sense of sight as a distraction, Sara noticed all of the other noises even more.

There wasn’t a street that Sara didn’t hear the sound of cars honking. Even though she had become adapted to holding her head so that she didn’t look up into people’s faces or let her tail get stepped on in crowds, people were still every where. Literally tail gating Sara as she just tried to stretch her legs. But people not seeing what she was, and accidentally bumping into her, was better than the alternative, Sara thought as she wound her way down a familiar street. Based off of the smells from the sewer, the amount of car exhaust, and the businesses set up to sell phone, she guessed she was getting close to the monorail stand. More noise.

Sara sighed. At least her getting closer to the monorail, meant she was also getting closer to a place that she could sit down and eat. Dragon Inn was a place where she’d normally eaten every day. For the first time in a long time, it had been a week since she had been there. She only called Johnny, a week ago, to let him know she was alright, and that she had lost her sight.

Johnny was the youngest son, of the family that owned Dragon Inn. He was 16, now, and worked in his family’s restaurant as what ever they needed at the moment. Dish washer, delivery boy, cashier, and waiter. On the week days, between school and dinner hours, the boy could be seen in the back with one of his text books stretched out on the counter, next to the sink where he washed dishes.

Sara had her own table in the back, where most of the patrons didn’t visit, with the exception of Slate, but today she was blind, and she was growing not to care anymore about the way people looked at her. If Johnny’s family would let her, she would sit at the back of the main room, with her long white cane.

It was the last twenty feet that became the hardest for Sara. The smell of a hot dog stand mingled with the fine Chinese restaurant, and there was a lunch crowd gathered around the take out window. Several times, the long white cane Luke had given Sara tapped into people’s feet, and she redirected where she was walking until she made it to the window, and Johnny came out to take Sara by the elbow, and guide her through the front door, then he started guiding her to her usual table in the back room.

“Johny, if it’s alright I’d like to eat in hear.” Sara said as she stopped and the skinny olive skinned boy was pulled to a halt that made his hole frame jerk, but looked like he hardly touched Sara, as she stood still.

“But the other custoers…”Johnny started before Sara cut him off.

“You’re mother doesn’t officially open the dining room for another two hours, and now is just the lunch crowd from the surrounding businesses and schools. Almost no one is going to be in here, and if they are, they can just deal with it.” Sara told Johnny who nodded, while forgetting that Sara couldn’t see him. Then lead her to a normal booth, at the back of the dining room and helped her find a place where no one would trip on the long while cane. “Thank you, Johnny. I’ll start with some hot tea.”

The lights of the City were now all around him, and he wondered, if they would be turned off ever, seeing that the once dark sky was illuminated by the millions of bulbs and tubes, through glass and plastic, making the supposedly black sky under rolling clouds become something of an illuminated display of mankinds greatest skills.

Nothing like beautiful and gentle lights, but here only harsh and mostly blinking color seemed to be fashionable right now. His teeth were clenching more and more, as the driver went on. Especially since the headache had not yet gone and the throbbing in his temples joined with the growling in his stomach to form a symphony that may very well have been written by Bach and directed by a competent conductor for all its precise tunes. And as if that was not enough the streets outside seemed not to change at all. For all he could tell, the Cab had not driven anywhere, yet the meter in the front already showed a greater sum. He told the driver to stop at the next corner and paid him grudgingly, flinching at some other sign, that was shining right before his eyes. It took a while for him to process the words he saw:

Dragon Inn

Those words meant food if he was not mistaken. And in those things he now could not be mistaken, as the smell that entered his nose already made his mouth water, a smile appearing on his face. The headache was forgotten. There was a restaurant here and he would hopefully get a meal there.

Within a second he was standing inside the Inn, finding himself greeted by a young teenager, who seemingly was responsible for the service here. As he was informed, that the rooms were not opened until an hour or so, he saw a cat lady sitting in the back of the room.

In a as seconds turned into an awkward silence, he forced out his powers yet another time for the day, as his world slowly stopped spinning in circles. He needed more time. So he got himself some, time was not a problem. He picked up the details slowly, as a sudden wave of tiredness washed over him. The white cane, the slightly tilted head. She was a blind Cat-Woman sitting at the table of a Chinese restaurant, which was still closed. An oddity? Possibly. At home it would have been. His thoughts were racing in all directions, but seemed to be running in circle at the same time. He had to find out more about her. About his kind here. A searing pain in his temples was the price he had to pay right now for pushing himself yet another time of the day.
Heavily resting himself on one table he finally took a hissing breath, rubbing his temples.

“Would you be so kind to get me a glass of water please? I am feeling unwell.”

He then asked, not even speculating on the fact, that it might make him leave the room, but only on the fact, that his head was feeling, as it was going to go critical soon enough.

Sara sat in the back booth patiently waiting for her tea, when someone else entered the restaurant. Sara had chosen to sit in the mane eating area, because the insulation was better against the street, inside, away from the door, and away from the back where Sara normally sat.

Sara leaned back, continuing to listen to the man’s short exchange with Johnny. The moment he asked for a glass of water, Johnny nodded being the good well trained waiter, headed straight for the back to fetch the man some water.

Sara listened to the man breath and her brow furrowed. He definitely did need something to drink but there was something else on her mind. The man either hadn’t seen her, and felt too ill to look around the restaurant properly, or he had seen her and he didn’t care. Her head tilted on that thought. So she chose to draw attention to herself and see what the man did.

“Why don’t you take a seat.” Sara instructed him. Her voice rang out through the room with the concern for his safety and the curiosity. “you sound like you’re ready to collapse, a seat would at least put you closer to the ground.”

The Woman actually spoke to him. He was not aware of the fact that cat-people could speak, but that would make things much easier. It it were not for his head, which still aimed at making things much more complicated. Right now the head seemed to be on the winning side of the little battle. So he more or less stumbled towards her and fell in a seat, letting out a sigh, which sounded a little like letting air out a balloon. A blink later (for him anyways) the waiter presented him with a water and a cautious look.
After taking a few sips what had been a sickly color of his skin started to turn more and more normal. Still unhealthy,but at least there were no more red spots on his cheeks. Red spots were not good as they indicated overexertion. Not that the person on his side would notice. But surely she would hear the ease in his breathing and the less anxious sound of his voice. So as he straightened he stared thinking about what to say.

“Good evening Madam. Thank you for your offer.”

Somehow the boy had withdrawn himself from his sight, but that did not mean, that he was not around any more. He had to be careful then with what to say and what not.

“I see you are belonging to a special society...:”

He started and then broke off. He did not know how to phrase this.

“Good evening Madam. Thank you for your offer.”

It was amazing just how much Sara’s other senses were taking over for her, after the loss of her sight. Especially the ones that were hooked into her predatory instincts. The ones that told her when someone was having a real health problem. Sara wasn’t a hunter if she didn’t have to be, but that didn’t mean these things went un noticed. The way the man made his way over to her booth, because his feet didn’t walk the way a healthy person’s feet walked. The sound of his respiratory system, and the sound of his heart when he got close enough to her to make out the muffled thump. “It’s not a problem.”

Johnny returned with the glass of water, and Sara tilted her head so that she was addressing but boy’s general direction while talking to this new comer. “You can stay till you’ve recovered enough to go back out. Or until I finish my meal.” Johnny nodded even though Sara couldn’t see it before putting her tea pot down and the cup. Each with it’s own clink against the table so Sara could hear it, before Johnny disappeared into the kitchen possibly to listen to their conversation on the other side of the wall. Johnny had developed a bad habit of eaves dropping.

“I see you are belonging to a special society...:”

Sara shrugged. There wasn’t much she had hidden from Johnny anyways. “You mean the mutant society?” Sara’s head tilted with the question.

His false smile did not cover his surprise at her openness and complete lack of discretion in that matter. Until he remembered that she could not see and dropped it into a plain expression. Mimics were out. He made a mumbling sound. Stupid him. He needed to concentrate more. So what did those sentences tell him? She was either stupid or knew the place well enough as to feel secure. But on the other hand with her looks things were obvious to say the least. She could not hide who she was. Nor did she seem to want to. He was not really able to think straight right now.

“Thank you. I am grateful for your patience.”

He said. Just to make the silence that had been developing easier on his ears.

“And yes I mean that... difference. As you can probably tell from my accent I am not native and I was wondering how people like... you were treated here.”

The little pauses were all the hints he gave her. They lasted a little too long, were a little too silent to be unintentional. His heartbeat quickened too. People like him he wanted to say and if she had the ears for it, she would pick it up. They were always feared, but how were people like him treated on this side of the ocean for that reason? Why did he stumble across a mutant on the very first occasion anyways? He wanted to laugh and cry. So much for hiding who and what he was.

Sara really had nothing to hide here. Even if she did, Sara had nothing that she could easily hide. So she just sat there waiting as her new companion caught his breath and heart beat.

“Thank you. I am grateful for your patience.”

“It is not a problem.” Sara said simply as she took a sip of her tea.

“And yes I mean that... difference. As you can probably tell from my accent I am not native and I was wondering how people like... you were treated here.”

Sara’s lips pressed together at the long pause. Yeah. Her. He either had someone he wanted to know this information for, or, more likely, he wanted to know this information for himself. “It depends on where you go.” Sara said simply. She tried to measure his reaction based on the nearly silent sounds, but that was nearly impossible now that her sight was gone. So she just continued on. “There are some people who are just fine with mutants. This restaurant is one of them. There are some that are just afraid, and there are some people who will hunt mutants down till either the mutant has killed them, or they killed the mutant.” She sipped at her tea again, then set the empty cup down, only to fumble for the pot, to refill it. “Does that answer your question?”

His ambivalent mood continued on like a pendulum. His fingers were turning the glass of waters in circles and it made scraping noises on the wooden table. He was going nowhere with this.
Going for the teapot of Chinese porcelain -it carried a number of dragons on it for decoration- with his hand and refilling the Cats cup with one hand, the fingers on the other were making tapping noises on the table.

As the steaming liquid was flowing he just listened for a while. Tap. There were cars driving by on the outside, as they apparently always did here. Tap. Somewhere in the kitchen pots were clanging. Tap. From the lights came a low buzzing. Tap.

“It is the same as everywhere then.”

His level tone was giving away his underlying disappointment. He land of the free. Home of the brave. And it was the same here. This was just another everywhere it seemed.

“My name is Martin.”

He sat the pot down on the table and it made a sound that almost sounded like a tuning fork. The cries of a dragon?

Sara nodded quietly, though her brow furrowed as he poured her tea for her. She could have done that.. .. .. Well it could have been worst.

“It is the same as everywhere then.”

“Thank you.” Sara said to him. She was trying not to find dry but she wasn’t used to having things done for her yet. “Maybe not everywhere but yeah. Everywhere people with modern appliances live. I’ve had the opportunity to travel to Canada and experience the Inuit’s beliefs. They believe mutants are something like gods, however they still wont let known mutants live with them.”

Sara pulled her tea closer to her, on the table and sat with the cup steaming just below her nose. She had also experienced the beliefs around Mutant in Egypt. Ancient Egypt. But that was another story. “More primitive cultures around this world may see us as gods as well, however that could be a dangerous experiment to undertake, depending on their cultural practices.”

“At least here, in the city, there are places for you to go.”

He was amazed. She had seen other countries, which from what he had heard prior to coming here was a thing not many Americans did in their lives. And she had picked out some enchanting ones to go to too. But at the same time he was saddened by the fact, that he had not been on a boat for far too long.

“I do think you are wrong there. The beliefs you describe are ubiquitous in my experience.”

The thought of modern appliances being connected to the view on mutants was making up for his sadness though. Appliances spread desease. He could already imagine the Bild article about it. At the same time he was giving away something unintentionally. The ring of his voice. Its sounded like he meant every word. A twenty year old normally did not support this tone.

“ Even in our rationalized times there are those who view themselves as gods. We seem to be prone to such thoughts as we are so far removed from the rest. Solitude kills them.”

Not that he had had them. His power was far too wild to be considered godly. He was much more worried about those who gave in to those notions as they were apparently facing a society that did not accept such beliefs. They were alone and could not bear it. Some considered that a weakness. Others a natural result of discrimination. At least they should if this country was really like the one he came from. He could feel that this was a topic that was stained crimson for the fights that had been made over it.

“You have made me curious though. What are those safe places?”

Sara leaned back in her seat a she pulled her legs up so she could sit Indian style with her tail pulled around her feet. “The safe houses all depend on where you stand.” Sara said testily. She took a sip of tea as her unseeing eyes flicked in her companion’s direction, before she continued.

“If you believe in mutant supremely and don’t mind spilling a bit of blood, there is a place called the Sanctuary.” As Sara started she was completely indifferent in her voice. She once thought of joining the Order, who resided in the Sanctuary and despite many of her close friends being in the x-men and living at the mansion, she still didn’t understand where she wanted to stand.

“Then there is Xavier’s sister school for the gifted.” Sara continued. “There, they hope for peace but also work to teach mutants. There are also more private individuals and companies who would probably offer assistance.”

He noted her shift to a more comfortable position. Was she really that relaxed? That confident in her own abilities? What if he were one of the people she had just described. The bloodthirsty ones, the haters, the screamers. He had seen them and they had his pity as a whole. Not being able to see beyond their own petty troubles, their own small pestilence free backyards. They were all gifted in their own ways some said, others said they were all useless because they fumbled with clumsy fingers at what others could do in a heartbeat. That little blink that changed everything, made plants grow or earth shatter. And again some hated with all their heart what they could not fathom, nor ever partake in.

He could see the rockets flying, the limbs break apart just to heal again. Who stood on which side. It had nothing to do with being mutant really.

His hand made its way to the emptying glass on the table and he took a calming sip of refreshing coldness to escape his troubled thoughts.

>“The safe houses all depend on where you stand.” <

Yes standing was a difficult matter. It meant standing up as well as standing against. And that was a thing he would not do. He was no one to stand up. Seeing, noting, analyzing, working. His four principles they were. Not standing up or giving fight. Fights were unproductive in his eyes, the results more often being a hassle then what you actually wanted for in the first place. Why fight over something that eventually would resolve itself anyways? Sometimes it seemed to him as if all the people around him had been swept away by teenage hormones.

“All those different factions and still they are all the same. Is there really nothing between black and white here?”

Nothing changed. There would of course be those that rejected black and white, but they rarely organized nor were they powerful enough to play a part in mutant politics. Not that he wanted to play a part in mutant politics. Keeping a low profile was always better. It tended to keep you alive in difficult situations.

Was Sara really all that confident in her own abilities? Yes and no. She was confident in her abilities against this man, if trouble started. The fact was that even though, at the moment, she couldn’t see, she could still hear, smell, taste and feel. All of her other senses were as acute as ever and if the crap did hit the fan, she had her confidence in her own speed and ability to heal, thus survive. Especially against one that seemed to be having breathing trouble.

Sara’s ears flicked lightly as he picked up the glass of water and the ice inside had tinged against the inside. Johnny appeared like magic from the kitchen with a pitcher, apparently he had been paying enough attention to know when the cup needed more liquid in it. He was probably listening to the entire conversation.

“Not necessarily the same.” Sara said lightly. “Some have more welcoming company than others. Then again some of the residents at their own factions, are hypocrites. I don’t believe that there is an absolutely gray place as of yet. I know of individuals who would let someone stay with them, but those are general individuals. Not official groups, if that makes sense.”

It all fell into place. Here and there. He had been right, when he said, that nothing was different, though he was not sure, whether the cat could see that. See, what irony. Comprehend would be the better word, especially for her condition. He folded his hands tightly on the table. Yet he better not underestimate her. It was her turf after all.

And then the waiter came to refill his glass with icy water. Good timing, good service. And proof, that he had been listening to them it was. He made a grimace. This was not good. The pitcher rang as it hit the glass and the water made gurgling noises as it left it. Not good for that meant he had one other person then the cat knowing what he was.

“I just hope you can keep secrets.”

He mumbled to the waiter, surprising himself at speaking out his thoughts loud. He must be tired to have become careless as that, it showed in his voice. The calm delivery of the sentence added an (unintended) underlying threat to it. It seemed as though the words “for yourself” were missing in the sentence. It was not really like him. And it was even more unlikely that he would act on it, but the others did not know. But then there were more important matters to attend to anyways.

“Individuals such as yourself I presume.”

He had to focus on what was important right now, not on the water. He mustn't allow more slips in the delicate dance or he soon would be lying on the floor or sitting on the streets. Oh and he was presuming a lot. Time to get some answers.

“And where do you put yourself in that explanation, if I may ask?”

“I just hope you can keep secrets.”

Sara’s head tilted and if her eyes could have seen, they would have narrowed right on her companion right there. “Friend.” Sara let her own tone slip only slightly because that was all the warning he would get. “I’d think twice and process your information more clearly before you start making hopeful comments like that.”

Johnny who had finished pouring the glass of water hovered over the table for a moment. His young brown eyes looking first to Sara, then her companion, as the feline continued.

All the while Sara’s voice was relaxed. Her head tilt staid with the posture of her elegant shoulders back and body sitting tall. “First, off you are talking to a cat. You approached me with conversation so one only comes to assume that you’re a mutant because even other mutants react negatively to those that have features so different from them selves. Secondly, Johnny is beyond being nice to both of us. No one is supposed to be in here yet, and he has allowed both of us to stay. Third, if you really are so secretive, you shouldn’t worry about other people, so much as how much your own actions give your secrets away.”

“Individuals such as yourself I presume.”

“Yes and no.” Sara said as she let the small smile sneak back across her face. “Technically I don’t own a place yet.”

“And where do you put yourself in that explanation, if I may ask?”

“Half- in and half-out.” Sara said simply. “I’ve done a lot of things, Sir. The bad stuff is to ensure my own survival.” Theft mostly but this man who threatened Johnny didn’t have to know that. “And yet I’ve also run into burning buildings to rescue complete strangers.”