A couple of warnings: one, this is one of my rougher pieces. It has been beta read by Wendy and Kyrie in various drafts, but it seems to be an evolving work that's stuck right here. :) Also, you might want to have read at least "Mistakes", and "Part of Growing Up" couldn't hurt. This story takes place the evening after the events of "Part of Growing Up".

*2042*

Elizabeth Skye lay in bed, thouroughly awake despite her best efforts. Although she was a light sleeper by anyone's standards, she still shouldn't have been awake at three in the morning. Must have been all the excitement.

Beside her, her husband slept, dead to the world. It had been a continual joke in college that Michael could sleep through the end of the world. She glared at his form and got up. She wasn't going to get back to sleep by lying there.

She fumbled with the candlestick on the nightstand, and located the matches. Ever since she'd bought candles and candlestick for halloween, she'd kept them on the bedside table for emergencies. Not that this was really an emergency, but the rest of the household needed its sleep. She lit the candle and headed out towards the back porch.

With the rest of the household in bed, she could pretend that everything was normal. Her husband and two kids slept peacefully. If she listened, she could hear Marm Damon, her eldest daughter's best friend, snore as he slept on the couch.

But, of course, her household was not normal. Not by her standards, anyway. She wondered, for the first time in many years, if she should have married someone a little more normal. Of course, she was the one who fell for Michael Skye while the rest of the girls she knew were trying to attract the attention of Professor Park. Or maybe that was Professor Cranston that she was thinking of.

She'd been attracted to Michael the first time they'd met. Oh, he wasn't what she would call movie star handsome, but his looks weren't bad. And he had this wonderfully wicked sense of humor. In some ways, he reminded her of her aunt Kate. It wasn't until later that she discovered how like her aunt Kate he was.

Of course, he had a lot more ethics than aunt Kate ever had. In fact, Michael was one of the most ethical people she had ever met. He had to be, with an ability to read minds. He didn't want to make those who knew uncomfortable. For that matter, he didn't want to make people who didn't know suspicious. So, he didn't read unless he was asked to. Which wasn't very often.

Elizabeth rarely had cause to regret her marriage. It didn't really matter to her that he could teleport. Sometimes she wished she were telepathic after he was engaged in a long conversation with some person or another. But most of the time, it didn't really come up, nor did it matter.

Tonight was one of those rare times.

She remembered back to when Melinda had just been born, when she and Michael had talked about it in earnest. Elizabeth grinned, remembering the load of textbooks in her husband's arms...

* * *

*2029*

Elizabeth held her newborn daughter in her arms. The little girl had been sleeping, but was now somewhat awake. She rocked Melinda gently, cooing to the precious bundle.

She looked up as Michael came in, the books threatening to spill from his arms. He put the textbooks down on the table. "How is she?" he asked.

"Awake," Elizabeth answered. "But not much different from the last time you saw her."

"She's not going to change right this instant," Michael said. "If that's what you're worried about."

"No," she sighed. "I know. Adolescence, right? If it happens?"

"We have a pretty good chance," Michael replied, sweeping his hands over the pile on the table. "At least from what I'm reading. Genetics is not one of my strong points."

"Neither of us went to college to study biology," Elizabeth replied. She looked at the pair of framed diplomas from the University of Angel Grove. "And history doesn't do much good."

"No. But sometimes you can find good books," Michael said, picking up a couple of the books. "I brought some home. I think you'll like 'The Cartoon Guide to Genetics'. It's pretty funny."

Elizabeth shrugged, and put Melinda back in her crib. "Right now, I'm not worried about funny. I'm worried about the chances of our daughter picking up your powers."

"Since we don't have any idea how they're passed on, most of this isn't a whole lot of help," Michael said. "But I can guess that since you have at least one relative that has the abilites, and I have them, then there's a chance that any kids we have will have them."

Elizabeth sighed. "I know. I remember *that* much of biology class."

"Elizabeth, if she picks up my powers, then we'll just have to do the best we can with the situation," Michael said gently.

"I know, Michael, I know."

* * *

*2042*

Boy, did she ever know. Oh, they'd discussed it, but since they'd decided that it would happen or it wouldn't, with nothing they could do, they'd pretty much not worried about it.

Until that afternoon, when Melinda's heritage had finally manifested and she had broken out. Elizabeth had watched as her husband and Marm had materialized, a wet, dripping Melinda between them. It was then that she'd realized that something had changed in her household.

If this kept up, she'd be the only non-telepath in the house. Vanessa, thank goodness, was too young. Only seven. But if she was like all the other second and third generation children, she would break out like her sister and father.

Elizabeth should have seen it coming. She'd just refused to. And that frightened her. She'd always been able to handle all that happened with her family, but had just freaked when her eldest changed.

Maybe that was what scared her. Not her daughter, not her husband, but herself. Her fear of change. Maybe even her fear of difference, but that one was weird considering Michael.

The porch door creaked, and a fleeting mental note went through Elizabeth's head that she'd forgotten to oil it in the excitement.

"Momma?" Melinda said softly, peeking around the door. Elizabeth stared at her daughter for a moment.

"You should be in bed, honey," she said. "You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

The teenager shrugged. She looked so young in the dark, much younger than thirteen. "Something woke me up. A feeling, I think. I couldn't get back to sleep."

Elizabeth offered her daughter a hug, and Melinda accepted it, holding onto her mother tightly. She didn't have to be an empath to tell that her daughter felt a little uncomfortable. Everyone was a little afraid of change. "It's okay, honey."

"It's strange," her daughter observed, probably a little more calmly than she felt.

"You'll get used to it," Elizabeth said awkwardly. "I'm told everyone does."

Melinda nodded.

They sat for a few minutes, Elizabeth in one of the chairs and Melinda on the porch. Finally, Melinda spoke up. "Momma, are you scared of me and Dad? You felt like you were frightened this afternoon."

Elizabeth looked at her daughter, silently debating whether or not to tell her the truth. She didn't want to hurt her daughter, to scare her. Her feelings shouldn't get in the way of her family's happiness. On the other hand, Melinda would probably be able to tell she was lying. That would also hurt the girl, even if she was tactful and didn't mention it.

"Sometimes, honey, I am scared," Elizabeth began slowly. "Even grownups get scared. And sometimes they get scared for no reason."

Melinda nodded. "Just like kids do."

"Exactly," Elizabeth said, pleased. "Today, I don't know why, but I was scared when you came back. It's a fear of change, and a fear of the strange or unknown. Even I get scared sometimes, even though I know your Dad will never do anything to hurt me."

"And me?"

Elizabeth hugged her daughter tighter. This was the tough part. "Maybe once in a while, you might scare me too. But I know you wouldn't do anything to scare me either."

"Thanks, Mom," Melinda said, quietly. She didn't sound upset over the news. In fact, she sounded reassured. "Dad told me something of the sort, but he didn't say anything about you being afraid."

"I'm like most people," Elizabeth replied. "I think your father was talking about people who aren't as open minded and used to it as I am. They're the ones that would be really afraid of you. That's why you need to be careful about your abilities. Especially the mind-reading. That scares people a lot."

"I'll be careful," Melinda promised.

"I know you will, honey," Elizabeth said, running her fingers through her daughter's hair. "I trust you, and your father, and the others."

"Thank you, Momma."

"Now, go back to bed, and let your mother have time to think."

Melinda nodded. She looked ready to ask another question, but Elizabeth made shooing motions. She walked through the doorway and let the door close behind her.

Leaving her mother alone to think, face her fears, and finally accept them.

-End