A/N: Wrote this when I was feeling nostalgic for my very first fandom. It meanders a lot. The story, that is, although my attention span often goes with it.
David Xanatos leaned on the nursery door frame and watched the slim figure move through the shadows cast by the high windows, the brilliant white moon seeping in even through the heavy curtains. The light made a halo around the slender one, although he had seen other times - and on cloudy nights - where the aura was present and nothing short of an alien beauty could account for it.
"I take it the lesson went well," he said, stepping into the room and noting that Puck didn't seem startled; he never did, and Xanatos had long given up trying to sneak up on the fey.
"Of course," Puck answered, though his voice was quiet, and he picked up a stuffed animal to put it back on bookcase shelf (Xanatos noted with some amusement that he had to stand on tiptoe to do so). This wasn't the first time the billionaire had caught the fey cleaning up without using magic after a lesson. He had no explanation other than, with Alex asleep, Puck was just trying to find time to be himself - literally.
"Of course," Xanatos echoed with a smile. "Who better to teach my son magic, after all?"
"Magic is like..." Puck frowned, toying with a comparison.
"Science?" Xanatos offered helpfully.
The finality in the word made Xanatos shiver, and he sought to shake off the chill with a bit of banter that had always worked before; he ignored the grip of cold in the pit of his stomach that said that it would not work tonight. "You can predict explosions, though."
"In theory," Puck countered, leaning over the edge of the crib and looking down at the sleeping form of his charge, his voice low. "But there are always variables. Random factors that don't follow a set path. Deviations."
The fierce satisfaction in his tone made Xanatos nervous. Puck turned blue eyes on him, and the billionaire wished for a moment it was Owen he was speaking with, and not Puck. He had never found an adjective that properly described the fey's eyes; they were just... blue.
"Don't you agree?" Puck coaxed.
"Deviations," Xanatos agreed, and his mouth seemed dry. The unfinished sentence hung in the air, and he added weakly, "We should let him sleep."
A glow too bright to have been moonlight, and Puck was gone, leaving Owen in his place. The spell was broken, and Xanatos gave his aide a shaky smile. "I'll be in my office."
"Yes, Mr. Xanatos," Owen replied with a respectful tilt of his head.
Once the billionaire left the room, Owen leaned down and straightened Alex's covers precisely. "You will be my random variable," he murmured fondly, and left the room with a smile.