"Now, let's see," she murmurs to herself, "we'll need some decent boy clothes, some decent girl clothes, and a church outfit for each... How does your feminine self feel about floral print?"

"I don't really mind very much, I'm actually not very good at picking nice clothes for myself, so I'm sure you'll be able to pick something prettier than I could. Floral print sounds lovely."

"Oh, good," she says happily. "I've got some fabric with red roses I was thinking of making some curtains out of, but it'd make a lovely church dress for a girl your age with a halfway respectable hat. Come on back inside, are you hungry? Xan's always hungry."

"I could eat," he agrees easily. "Does he have to eat a lot more than a regular boy his age, for the superpowers? He said not, but..."

"He eats exactly as much as a regular boy his age, which is to say anything and everything. But I think he gets something out of all that sunbathing he does, that's why I haven't put a stop to it," she whispers.

She opens the door, and Xan's floating upside-down by the ceiling. "You also know if you tried I'd burn the house down," he says, as if there wasn't a door between them while she whispered.

"No you wouldn't," she says confidently. "You always say nasty things, but you've never once meant them."

He grunts noncommittally, flips right-side up, and floats back to the floor as Mrs. Kent enters the kitchen. "Welcome to Hell," he says grandly to Sadde.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, grinning at Xan. "Let's eat, eating sounds good."

Xan rolls his eyes, but walks with Sadde into the kitchen.

"There's cornbread and jam and honey, and cold chicken in the fridge, or if you want me to cook you up something I'd be happy to," Mrs. Kent says.

"What do you wanna eat?" he asks Xan.

Xan has already gotten himself some chicken and is gnawing on it contently.

Sadde can go for the chicken, too, then. And maybe some cornbread.

They're both pretty good.

Xan finishes his chicken, puts his plate in the sink, and ascends to his room. Mrs. Kent tuts, but doesn't comment.

"Scourgify!"

"Oh, thank you!"

"Anytime. Literally, I don't even get any more tired than flicking a stick and saying words, I don't have some magical energy I'm depleting or anything."

"Well, that's very handy. Do you want to go up to Xan's room? I know it might seem like he doesn't want company, but I think he's awfully lonely, really."

"Oh, yeah, I'm certain he is. I'll follow him up, if you don't have anything else you want me to point my wand at."

"No, you go right on ahead."

"Thank you for the food!"

Up he goes.

Xan, being in his room, has tossed his overalls into the corner and is currently tossing a baseball up and down meditatively.

"Awfully lonely, she says. She thinks if I had friends I'd stop beating off."

"Maybe you'd start beating off with them instead," he suggests. "But you're so obviously lonely it might as well be written on your forehead."

"...People mostly suck. Don't see how not being friends with any of them is worse than having to deal with them."

"Well, humans usually need companionship. Of, like, any kind, not just with people you super hit it off with." He hops onto Xan's bed and starts rocking his legs back and forth. "But also I don't think people mostly suck. ...maybe teenagers. And kids. Teens and kids suck a lot. I can tell, I am one," he says, nodding sagely.

Xan snorts. "I always wanted to move to Metropolis when I was old enough to get away, see if having enough people around meant there were any tolerable ones."

"There's lots. But the thing about the ones that suck is that most of them have reasons to suck and they can be made to not suck. I've spent the past two years making people not suck, I'd know."

"...I never really got there. I can't stand them, and they can't stand me."