The occupants of the small cottage looked perfectly normal.  Okay, so maybe he was a bit taller than normal, like seven feet or so, and she was stunningly beautiful but they didn't look any different then anyone else her age.  From a compact stereo something she didn't recognize blasted and the pair danced.  She graceful and elegant, he, graceful as well but tentative, tried to follow her.  A giggle threatened as she saw him fumble and look sheepish.  The girl though, merely said "Again".

            "Miss Ange," said the man in the front seat of the SUV.  "Shall we go?"

            It took a moment to reorient her mind to her body but she blinked mismatched eyes and regarded the agent.  She had already 'read' him, self-important, bigoted against her kind but dedicated to his mission.  A total asshole.  It hadn't really been necessary to 'read' him but she just liked to confirm initial impressions.

            The SUV's driver opened her door and she stepped out into a blazing Southern California noon.  A mild breeze pushed in from the beach bring a variety of odors both natural and man-made.  Before her was what had once been a two-car garage that someone had decided would make a nice little cottage.  White, blinding in the sunlight, with blue shutters and door, it was fronted by a small yard of scrubby Bermuda grass and sand. 

            The door opened before the agent had even stepped onto the short concrete path.  A tall shadow, the boy from inside, loomed in the doorway.

            "Miller," the boy said, the tone laced with distain.

            "Lovely, another Saturday ruined," the girl said.  She was just visible behind the boy.

            "Who is this?"  The whole aura of the boy changed, not to out-right friendliness but to guarded interest.

            Miller stepped back to allow her to pass.

            "This is Debra Ange," the agent replied.  "Your new classmate ... and teammate."

            The girl stepped around her tall companion and pushed open the screen door.

            "As long as you leave the garbage on the street, you are welcome," she said her eyes fixed on Debra.

            Miller audibly gritted his teeth.  "I'll leave you to get her set up at school."  He turned on his heel and he climbed back into the SUV, slamming the door.

            "Well, now that we've taken care of the trash ... I am Wren Collins," she held out a hand.  "Please come in out of the heat."

            "Wren, it is not hot," the boy said playfully.

            He had vanished into the darkened interior of the house.

            "By the way, I'm Nat Ryan," he said as she stepped into the cool of the room.

            He was hunched over, peering into the refrigerator.

            "What can I get you?"

            The kitchen was to the left of the door and the living room to the right with a hallway up the center.  All the furniture, save one maple rocking chair, was of heavy oak and well padded.  It made the rocker look even more delicate.

            "Please, make yourself comfortable," Wren said, gesturing to the couch.  "Why don't we have some lemonade, Nathaniel?"

            "You got it."

            As she sat, a clink of metal came from the kitchen and moments later Nathaniel appeared with a tray loaded with what looked like a rainbow-hued 'hey Kool-Aid' pitcher and three matching glasses.  He set it on the coffee table before Wren who took a seat at her side.  Nathaniel dropped into a huge chair.

            It was always hard to sort through the cacophony of a new mind during that first 'read' but she picked up a lot of information from Nat right away.  Some of it was externally obvious such as his curiosity about her, some of it was insignificant, like his concern about the sweetness of the lemonade.  Deeper down there were a couple things she probably could have discerned without 'reading' him, like that he was madly in love with Wren and dreamed about sex with her, a lot, but she also saw a bit that scared her a little.  Nat really wanted to rip some guy apart, literally, for his attempt to rape Wren.  The visions in his mind were even more graphic then the sexy things with Wren.  Her mind slipped free of the chaos that was Nat's mind and ... nothing ... at all ... Wren was a blank.

            Something huge and very heavy landed on her.  The couch groaned but did not buckle and she forgot how to breathe.

            "Wren?"  Nat didn't sound alarmed but rather more concerned.

            "She was trying to get into my mind," Wren said through clinched teeth.

            The weight on Deb's chest seemed to double then Nat was at Wren's side, his hand on her arm.  The weight disappeared and when her vision cleared she saw the two of them eyeing her.

            "You have five second to explain," Wren said, "before I make floor paint out of you."

            "Not again, Wren," Nat said, trying to repress a smile.  "You weren't the one that had to mop it all up the last time."

            For an instant she thought to read Nat again but the look in Wren's eyes scare the shit out of her.

            "I'm sorry!"  She grabbed her head, fingers gripping her hair.  "I just do it automatically."

            Wren's tone was brittle, "Obviously not."

            "It's like a defense thing, I want to know what people think about me, are they a threat?  Do they have ulterior motives?  Are they telling the truth?  That kinda thing."

            "And you already probed around in Nat's head, didn't you?"

            Nat raise an eyebrow.  Deb nodded, looking down at her hands.

            "I may have to make you into floor paint just for that," Wren said coldly.

            Deb felt the blood drain from her face and then blackness.  Vaguely, through a blanket of fog she heard voices.

            "Crap, Wren, you scared her to death," Nat said calmly.

            "Once more Miller becomes useful, he can dispose of the body."

            Fingers touched her throat.

            "She's alive," she heard Nat say.

            "Not for long, I suspect, if she insists on using her power on anyone else in the team."

            She heard water running.

            "Here," Wren said.

            A cool cloth was laid across her forehead and things began to clear.

            "I'm sorry," she murmured.  "Won't do it again."

            She moved out of her body and took a look around the room.  Nat was sitting on his heels beside the couch with the cloth draped over her head.  Wren was standing back, arms crossed looking scary pissed.

            "You're a telepath," Nat said.  "I understand why Miller put you with us then."

            "To spy on us?" Wren sneered.

            Nat shook his head.  "I don't think so.  If she's a telepath, she's already read Reggie and knows he's a dick.  I think a telepath is something the team needs."

            "You know if she tried something like that on Chris, she might be dead before she hits the floor."

            Who was Chris?  Damn, she should have read something about the team from Miller!

            "Kena wouldn't think twice about burning her, even if it was just for the scar effect."

            Deb snapped back into her body.

            "I said I won't do it again!" She snatched the cloth from Nat and threw it at him.  He caught it.  "I have never been around other Metas and I didn't know I wasn't supposed to read you people!"

            "You people?" Wren said sarcastically. "You are one of 'you people', remember that."

            "Easy, Wren," Nat said soothingly.  "Let's talk it out."

            "You were the one that said having your mind read was like rape when Raven did it to you."

            "Who is Raven?" Deb asked.

            "No one of consequence," Wren replied.

            "I know," Nat admitted.  "And if I had noticed it, I might have reacted ... even worse than you."  He was looking up at Wren.  "Maybe it is because I didn't notice, I don't know."

            "So rape you don't notice is okay?"  Wren was getting hot.

            "I'M SORRY!"

            Both of them looked at her.

            "Look, I have been taking care of myself since my powers manifested and one of the ways that I learned to survive is to read everyone that I come into contact with.  I don't know you and I was told that you were both metas, so what was I supposed to do, go in blind?"  She stood.  "I'll just go back to Miller and tell him it isn't going to work."

            "Yes, you go in blind," Nat said.

            Wren offered Deb a phone.  "Miller is one on speed dial."

            "I don't think we need that, Wren," Nat said, taking the phone.  The plastic casing crumpled in his hand.  "Crap."

            Wren closed her eyes and her face relaxed.  She smiled slightly.

            "We have more," she said, taking the scraps from Nat.  "Why don't you pour the lemonade?  I am sure it is sweet enough."

            How did she know he was worried about that?

            "Sit, please," Nat said.  "Let's try this again without the mind reading."

            Slowly she sat back down and watched Nat pour the lemonade.  Wren opened a cabinet and took out a new phone box.

            "Does that happen often?" Deb said, pointing at the box Wren was opening.

            "Yeah, couple times a month," Nat replied.

            "And that's why I answer the phone," Wren said, still engrossed in the unwrapping.

            "I don't always control my strength," Nat explained.  "I tend to crush things ... like glasses."  He gestured at the metal pitcher and glasses.  "Titanium."

            "So are you going to claim your telepathy is like Nathaniel's strength and you can't control it?" Wren asked as she set the new phone into the base.

            "No, I control it," Deb admitted.  "It's just like I said, I do it by reflex when I meet new people."

            "I suggest you learn quickly to curb that reflex," Wren said, lifting a glass to her lips.  "Perfect," she said after a sip.

            "I'll try," she said softly.

            "There is no try, only do, or do not," Nat said in a bad Yoda, then continued in his normal voice.  "We are metas, Debbie, and you never know what abilities we might have that will surprise you."

            "I prefer Deb," she said.  "Please."

            "Okay, fair enough, so how did you end up in Miller's clutches?"

            Wren held up a finger, “Hold that thought.”  She pulled open the front door of the little cottage to find a good half dozen or so kids of about their age.

            “How do you DO that?” one girl asked.  She pulled open the screen door and the entire group piled in … far more gracefully then dwarves entering a hobbit’s hole.

            “Whoa, who’s the babe?” a guy with black hair streaked with red asked.

            An Asian girl with blue hair punched him in the ribs.

            “Okay, everyone,” Nat said and instantly there was silence.  “Miller has brought us a present.”

            Deb eyed the group trying to decide which to read first but Wren caught her eye and shook her head.

            “Everyone, this is Debra Ange, Deb, our new classmate and teammate,” Nat continued.  “She’s a telepath.”

            And that was exactly what Deb had feared he would do, announce to everyone what her powers were.  One young man with movie star good looks grinned and stepped up to her, offering her a hand.

            “Slated Monroe, VERY pleased to meet you!”

            She struggled to stifle the urge to read him.

            “Go ahead,” he offered.  “Give it a shot, I’ve always wondered how I’d fair against another mentalist type.”

            “You’re a telepath too,” Deb managed.

            “Nope, can’t read a thing but I can sure boil a brain if I have to!”

            A girl dressed as a bag lady slipped up beside Slater and tucked a hand in the crook of his arm.

            “I’m Alicia,” she said very softly.  Slater looked down at her and grinned.

            “I just wanna see what she can do!”

            “We’ll all get into who does what in a minute,” Nat said.  “Let’s just get through the introductions.  Now, Slater and Alicia,” he gestured at the pair.  “And the horn dog over there is Zach Toran.”  He pointed at the boy with the black and red hair.  “Fujiko Yamakaze is the one that punched Zach.  She prefers Fuji.”

            “Me next!” said a brown haired guy dressed in about twenty different colors.  “Hey, I’m Josh, Josh Temple.”

            “Do not eat anything he offers you,” said a tall athletic looking blonde.  “Not that it is poisoned or anything, just strawberries and sardines do NOT go together.”

            “That’s  Christiana Gilchrist,” Nat said.  “Chris.”

            “So, Miller just drop her off and ran?” Zach asked.

            “He understands what is best for his well-being,” Wren commented.

            “As you can see, Deb, we had plans for a day at the beach,” Nat said.

            “We have plans for the beach every day, Nathaniel,” Wren said with a small smile.

            “I hope you like the beach,” Chris said.  “Because if you don’t you’d better learn.”

            “Actually,” Deb replied.  “I love the beach.”

            “I think you just made Nathaniel’s nice list,” Wren said.

            “I don’t have my suit or anything like that,” she said.  “That agent said my luggage would be delivered to the school.”

            “Oh crap, shopping trip,” Josh covered his face dramatically.

            “I don’t have much money …”

            Half the group burst out laughing.  Alicia patted Deb’s hand.

            “Don’t worry, I think we can come up with a bit of spare change between us,” she said.

            “Only Miller would drop an innocent into a group of strangers without more than clothes on her back and broke,” Wren growled.

            “Look, money is not a problem,” Nat said.  “Why don’t you let the girls show you all the places to get beach clothes while I take the guys out to pick up some donations to the party.”

            “Avocado and oranges,” Alicia suggested.

            “Red will be coming in about an hour,” Chris said.  “I hope they remembered to pick something up.”

            “Mal never forgets anything,” Nat said.

            “Red?” Deb asked.

            “The Red Team, we’re the White Team,” Wren told her.

            “Ten more of your teammates,” Nat said.

            “They just learned about the beach,” Zach told her.

            “He means they just learn of the cottage and the beach party,” Fuji explained.

            “We’re gonna head to the store, Wren, catch up with you in a half hour or so,” Nat said, herding the male half of the team out the door.

            “Better make it an hour,” a male voice said from outside.

            “Pig,” said Fuji.

            She found herself surrounded by the female half of the team and could feel them appraising her.

            Wren held up a finger, “At!”

            Deb pulled back her instinct to read all of them.

            “What, Wren?” Alicia frowned at the tall girl.

            “I tend to automatically start reading people,” Deb offered.

            “And I promised bodily harm if she tried it again on me or Nat,” Wren said.

            “Oh, man, she tried to read Nat?” Alicia gasped.

            “She read him …” Wren replied.

            “And he didn’t rip off her head?”  Alicia sounded astonished.

            Deb frowned.  “Rip off my head?”

            “That is what I expected as well,” Wren said.  “It appears he has mellowed on his stand against uninvited telepathy.”

            “Mellowed?  Someone read him before?”

            Wren nodded.  “It is not a happy memory for him or me.”

            “What did they find out?”  Deb had to ask.

            “Nothing that need concern you,” Wren said, steel in her tone.  “I suggest you drop the subject and forget about it entirely.”

            Alicia broke the pall of gloom Wren’s pronouncement had left by holding up a black AMEX card.