noteful | Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

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Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

It's a pretty low-key party, all things considered, and not significantly different than the one Parker or Meg would have thrown in a dorm room for a friend at home, not-exactly-traditional menu not withstanding.

There's music, low enough to talk over (and maybe with a little more folk in the mix than one expects to find a party). Balloons and streamers in purple and blue and red. A place to leave presents. People to meet or catch up with.

And, most importantly, a chance to wish X-23 (or Laura) a very happy birthday.

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X is silent for a couple seconds, thinking about that.

Then she nods. Carefully.

"It is interesting."

Beat.

"And the food is good. I like it."

"Good," Meg says. "I'm very glad.

"And we tried to pick food we knew you liked."

X doesn't smile because her face does not work that way.

But she relaxes, a little.

"I did not know."

Beat.

"That people paid attention."

"That's what friends do."

Along with throw you birthday parties.

And answer questions.

"I am good at remembering things," X offers.

She tries to be a good friend. Sometimes it is confusing.

"Yes, I know.

"You're a very good friend, Laura."

X is silent for a moment or two, eyes slightly wide.

Then--

"You are, too."

Beat.

"Thank you."

If only she were prone to hugs.

Meg would already have hugged anyone else by this point in this conversation.

But . . . she's not sure how Laura feels about that.

So . . .

"Is it okay to hug you?"

X's startled expression is back again.

But--

"I do not mind."

Beat.

"It is okay."

That's the right answer. Right? Duo hugged her before, and that was not bad.

Um.

Then Laura may consider herself hugged, lightly and very briefly.

"Thank you.

"And I hope this the first of many wonderful birthdays."

X's return hug is very belated, and more like a careful pat on the back.

But she doesn't flinch. Or stiffen up. Much.

"I am hard to kill."

Obviously this is what Meg meant.

Obviously.

(Meg is used to this, though.)

"And that's a good thing."

"Yes," X says. Firmly.

"You will have a lot of birthdays, too."

It's halfway between question and not.

"One a year," Meg says, cheerfully.

No way to know how many year, of course.

(Meg is not as hard to kill as Laura is.)

"Yes," X repeats.

"I remember."

Meg just had hers, too.

But X will not remind her of it. Meg did not seem very happy.

Meg just needs to not try to observe birthdays at the end of the universe. They don't go well.

"And Parker's is in May."

"I will not forget," X says.

"You know what she likes?"

X is good at mission objectives.

"I have some ideas," Meg says.

"You and I will have to plan something for her, when the date gets closer . . ."

"Okay," X says.

Then--

"You are good at reconnaissance?"

"Um . . . not especially.

"But, um, I think we can work something out without a whole lot of recon."

X tilts her head a little, studying Meg.

Then--

"Oh."

Beat.

"You have known Parker. For a while. It is useful."

Right?

"Yes.

"And it's very useful for planning birthdays."

X nods a little.

"Yes. And other things?"

Maybe?

"A lot of other things," Meg says.

"It's very, very good to have friends."

"I did not have many. Before."

Beat.

"It is easier. Now."

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