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Ashby Rivers reached for her blue crayon. When it wasn't where she thought she left it, she looked up from the paper at the array of colors spread around her. She lifted up the paper and all the crayons telekinetically in search of the missing color. Suddenly, she spied it near her bed and snatched it up, dropping the paper and crayons. She went back to work on the drawing in front of her.
Betsy Braddock, the X-Men known as Psylocke, peeked into the five-year-old's room. She didn't see Ashby but noticed the rainbow of crayons and paper floating in the air and took a step inside. "Ashby love?" She called. "Are you here?"
Ashby heard Betsy call her and quickly shoved the paper under the bed. Betsy came around her bed just as Ashby pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. "Hi, Lock."
She knelt down by the little girl. "What're you doing?"
Ashby picked up a crayon. "Drawin'." She really wanted Betsy to go away.
The telepath caught the stray thought from the child and smiled. Sitting down, she picked up the lavender crayon. "What're you drawing?"
She shrugged. "Nothin'."
"Ashby love, why do you want me t' go away?" When Ashby looked up in surprise, Betsy almost laughed. "Darling, I'm telepath remember?"
Nodding, Ashby pulled the drawing out from under her bed. Shyly, she showed it to Betsy.
"Is that," She leaned closer to the picture, before she caught another stray thought, "Cyclops?"
Ashby nodded and set the picture down. She picked the blue crayon back up and started to finish coloring in the figure's uniform. "I made it for him."
"It's lovely. Any special reason?" Betsy took the clean paper and started drawing butterflies in all different colors.
"I want him to like me." She said simply.
Betsy was taken aback by the statement. She thought about it, about the way Scott acted around Ashby. He was often short with her but Betsy suspected it was because he was unsure how to act around her not because he didn't like the child. "Why do you think he doesn't like you?"
She shrugged again, putting down the blue and picking up the yellow. "He doesn't talk to me or play with me. He just yells and tells me to do things."
"Well, I think that Scott will love this picture. It's wonderful." Betsy held up her own picture.
Ashby smiled. "Butterflies!"
"It's for you. T' hang on your wall." She found a roll of tape and taped to the wall near her bed.
"Thank you, Be'sy." Ashby stood up and hugged the telepath.
"You are welcome. Now finish your drawing and I'll help you find Scott."
Ashby held tightly to Betsy's hand as they went in search of Scott. They found him in the hangar, working on the Blackbird. He looked up as they approached. "Hi Betsy, Ashby."
"Hullo, Scott. Are you busy?" Betsy led Ashby over to the plane.
"Not really." He picked up a wrench and adjusted something. He watched Betsy nudge Ashby forward, giving her silent encouragement.
"Scott," Ashby began quietly. After a moment she thrust the paper at him. "I made this for you."
He took it surprise and looked at it. "Thank you." He took a closer look at the picture and realized it was of him. "You drew me?"
She nodded, half hiding behind Betsy.
//She thinks you don't like her.// Betsy told him quietly, not wanting Ashby's little telepathic ears to hear.
"It looks just like me. Thank you so much sweetheart." He knelt down and held out his arms. Ashby slowly moved over to him. He hugged her tightly. "I'm gonna put this right on my wall so I can see it everyday."
"You're welcome." She said quietly before going back to Betsy. They started to leave but Scott's voice stopped them.
"Ashby, would you like to go to the park with me later? After I finish in here?"
She nodded happily. "Okay."
"Great." He went back to his work and Ashby led Betsy out of the hangar, pulling her along.
"Do you feel better now, love?" Betsy asked. Ashby nodded, skipping joyfully down the hall. Laughing, Betsy raced along behind her.
Scott watched Ashby at the top of the slide. He waited for her at the bottom, smiling at her gleeful screams as she slid down the slippery surface. He caught her in his arms when she reached the bottom.
"Push me on the swings." She pulled him over to the swing set. He helped her up and gave her a gentle push. "Higher, Scott." She pouted.
Shaking his head, he pushed her harder, sending her faster and higher into the air. "How's this Ash?"
"Good. Thanks." She called down to him. He sat on the swing next to hers and gave himself a push to get going. Ashby giggled at the sight of the X-Men leader on a swing.
He took a deep breath. "Ashby, sweetheart, I know sometimes, I sound angry or mean. But, that doesn't mean I don't like you." He looked over at her. She had stopped pumping her legs, just letting the swing carry her and was watching him. "I do like you. You're the nicest little girl I've ever met. Sometimes I just forget and treat you like the others. If I do it again, you just remind me you're just a little girl. Ok?"
Ashby nodded. "OK." After a moment, she looked back at Scott. "Can we get ice cream on the way home?"
He laughed and helped her off the swing. "Sure we can. I think that sounds like a good idea."
Scott carried Ashby home, the child asleep on his shoulder. The door swung open as they came up the stairs. Betsy stood on the other side.
"How did your afternoon go?" She asked quietly.
He smiled. "Good. Hopefully, I proved to her I don't hate her."
"I think she knew that. You're just a little harsh with her. Sometimes you forget she's only five years old." She followed him up the stairs to Ashby's room.
"That's what I told her." Scott shook his head. "But it's not that I forget. Not really. It's that I remember and I'm afraid for her. We live in dangerous times and have so many enemies, I'm just scared something might happen to her." He laid her on her bed gently and took off her shoes. "Sometimes I think keeping her at a distance will keep her safe."
Betsy laid a hand on his shoulder. "I understand. I'll put her in her pajamas, if you want."
"Thanks, Bets." He leaned over and kissed Ashby's forehead. "Night, angel."
As he was leaving, Betsy's voice stopped him. "Just remember, she's not the only one who looses out if you keep her at arms length."
He sighed and kept going, pondering Betsy's words.
Make New Friends
Make new friends, but keep the old
One is silver and the other gold.
A circle's round, it has no ends
That's how long I want to be your friend.