Sat quietly in the dark, Dandelion's legs hung over the end of their bed as they tapped their fingers together, patiently waiting. Julian had given them very clear instructions to sit in their room until the lights came back on, and they did so without objection. At first, Dandelion had not understood why Julian had told them that no one on the team wanted to "bump into" Dandy in the dark, but the longer they sat there alone, the better they understood. This was all beginning to seem familiar to them; they had gone through this ten years ago already. The startling discovery, the apprehension, the wary acceptance... humans were surprisingly predictable animals.

Even this room had a stifling familiarity to it. When Dandelion had first come to the penthouse, it was a spare room, filled with unwanted furniture and other miscellany. They had not been anticipating a sixteenth member joining the team. Now, however, it was Dandy's room, and barren save for the bed that Dandy never slept on, and the chest of drawers that Dandy didn't own enough clothes to keep in. If nothing else, the laboratory cell that they had called home for the last ten years had fixtures that were of considerably more practical use to to Dandelion, like the rope swing that they liked to climb and perch on. That was not all this room lacked: it also had no cameras or one-way mirrors anywhere in it, as Dandy had checked the room themselves, thoroughly, when they "moved in."

Dandelion's newfound privacy was confusing to them, to say the least. Before, in the lab, the scientists that were always watching Dandy praised them whenever they changed their shape, especially if it had been in a way they had not seen before, and generously offered them new samples and forms for them to try. Now, Dandy's teammates typically reacted badly whenever Dandy changed their shape where they could see. Julian had asked them to stay in human form and not change unless they were in their room, or in a bathroom, and Dandy did so without objection. This was fine for the first few days, until someone had come into Dandy's room to fix something and found them clinging to the ceiling in their natural form. Then came the conversation about door locks and privacy, and Dandy had been apologized to, but they still came away feeling ashamed, like they had been the one doing something wrong.

So Dandelion sat in their human form, mismatched eyes blinking at steady intervals, quietly twiddling their fingers in the dark. Then, with a hum of electricity and the sound of appliances sparking to life, the power returned, and the lights flickered back on. Dandy's silent contemplation was over, and a wide smile broke across their face as they emerged from their room, gently shutting the door behind them. Heading up to the kitchen where they heard others talking, Dandy tread carefully up the stairs, each one creaking loudly under their weight. The stairs were a horribly inefficient mode of travel, but the only one that Dandy could use in human form. They swallowed their frustration, compartmentalizing it with their shame, and strode into the kitchen to greet their teammates, smiling brightly.

"The power is back on!" Dandelion remarked. They knew that everyone else in the room also knew this, but a large part of human conversation involved stating the obvious. Seeing that the kettle was on, Dandy looked to Eilidh and asked, "May I also have a cup of tea, please?" Dandelion's voice was human, for sure, but the accent and meter of their speech was strange and disjointed in a way that seemed like they were a child trying to work what they were saying into a song, or some sort of strange poem. They looked to Julian, and asked him, "Julian," they said his name slowly and carefully, the way Julian had done when they had met, "Is there any work on the penthouse that I can help with?"