Baked Goods Baked Goods Whatcha Gonna Do? (Andrew)

Stimulating hot beverage drink gone…Sugar rush inducing fried pastries gone…Jorge felt the dread that every man felt when he realized his usually dependable legal stimulants were nowhere to be found. Sure he could go and MAKE another cup of coffee, but he would need the rush now just to make the coffee to begin with. And if he had that much energy, why would he make more anyway? These thoughts swirled through his head as he stared at the measly drops of brown liquid at the bottom of the pot and sighed a bit in disbelief before he replaced it into the machine.

He was about to turn and snap at the officer who had given him the sharp comment, but as he turned and had his mouth half open, another voice cut through his already squishy, tired brain matter.

>> "Um, hello Detective Cervantes. You may not remember me but you saved my life the other day with that Mittens character and I just wanted to say thanks."

The voice was meek at best. For a second, Jorge considered looking at the floor to see if a mouse suddenly gained the ability of speech and was trying to taken him for something, but as he turned, he noted the kid there. It took a moment for him to recognize the kid. He did look familiar but unfortunately he tended to be bad with faces, unless they were part of a case and he scrutinized their image for hours upon hours. But this was different, he had saved this kid’s life. Then, like a flash it struck him.

Mittens! The kid he had dangling out the window by the head!

As the cloud lifted, something like a smile appeared briefly on his lips as he tried to ignore the stimulant starved brain that screamed inside of his skull. He had gotten these types of visits before and while he did not always care for the attention, mainly because he was just doing his job, he had to admit that they felt good. Not because they boosted his ego or anything, but because he was glad these people got out of these situations okay and not completely mentally scarred.

He sighed and nodded again with a smile towards the kid. “No problem kid, I was doing my job.. I’m just glad that you’re doing good.”

He noted the coffee and the paper bag and wondered if the kid had some friend on the force he was delivering stuff too or he was on his way somewhere and simply decided to drop by. Either way, as he watched the kid, he noted that he did not leave, which only prevented him from making the coffee he desperately needed right now.

“Um, you okay?” He asked patiently as he tried to gauge the nervous kid. What could he be nervous about? “Is there something else you need?”

>> "Well I kinda figured I ought to do something in return. It's not much but coffee and snacks is the best I can manage."

Alleluia! Alleluia!! Alleluiaaaaaa!!!

The sight of the coffee and the bag of snacks, which smelled suspiciously like baked goods, immediately pulled Jorge through the haze that encompassed his mind. It seemed almost as if the kid, who looked a little out of place with his dyed hair and gloves (let’s face it, most of those types were in cells), were simply a gift from Heaven. It was as if God had realized what Jorge’s predicament was going to be like and sent him this college kid laden with gifts of a sweet and stimulating nature.

Then from out of the corner of his eye, in the direction of the other officers who were staring in surprise and amusement, they began to whisper and comment among each other, but knew to be loud enough for Jorge and the kid to hear.

“Looks like Cervantes got himself a groupie,” Clemen’s mumbled with snarky voice.

Evans, another of the cops, chuckled and tried to hide his whisper but immediately failed. “Did Jorge save some Alternative Bakery or something?”

“Nah, it seems more like-“ another started but Jorge was quick to interrupt them.

Jorge and turned hard and glared at each of the cops who were snickering or trying to make fun. One look from his eyes though immediately silenced them. The detective, though easy going at times, did have a reputation when he was irritated to be rolling boulder. You don’t want to make him angry and get in his way because he will mow you down without even a glance back over his shoulder or a peek to see if any bit of the person were left under his dark colored shoes. The cops knew this and immediately turned away and began to whistle amongst themselves and turn away from his glare.

Once the detective had finally turned his gaze away, he returned his attention to the college kid and gave him a friendly smile in return. “It really was no trouble, kid. And I thank you for taking the time to…you know…say thank you,” he said with all seriousness. He noted then that with the cops around he must be nervous so he suddenly clapped him hard on the shoulder and steered him towards the exit. “Come on, we can take this outside,” he stated as he shot another glance over to the snickering cops.

“By the way, Clemens. The chief came by earlier and said he needed volunteers for the next two weekends to work the Grade School Career conventions. Unfortunately I can’t so I volunteered your name to him,” Jorge smirked as he turned away from them. “Just letting you know in case he comes by.”

Jorge knew the color drained from Clemens face, but instead of reveling in that thought, Jorge continued to lead the kid out of the station. I was not that he were trying to get rid of him, simply that he wanted him to not be in the firing range anymore of a bunch of over confident cops who are always looking for something to gossip or have fun about. With this in mind, he carefully escorted the kid outside, back into the bright morning light of the sunbathed, New York City, and grinned at him as he pointed out a couple of benches in front of the building for them to sit on.

Once the kid sat, Jorge took the much needed restful seat next to him and took one of the cups of the coffee he had brought. He was very thankful for the roasted smell and when he opened it, he noted that the bitter, almost black liquid that swished inside of his mug and immediately began to feel himself wake up. After a nice inhale of the coffee, he replaced the mug and took a sip of the black coffee.

Ahhh, hot and bitter…just how I like it… he thought as he turned his attention back the boy.

He did not know anything about the kid, but he knew that those cops back there were being jerks. They immediately “attacked” someone they felt was different or weak. He would take care of them later but for now, Jorge could only happily drink his coffee under the morning sun as he kept his eyes on this bringer of sustenance. Though he did not mean to unnerve the boy by staring, unfortunately it was a habit of Jorge’s. He noted what he could about his face, his nervous face twitches and the shift in his eyes. He obviously had a problem with being stared at. It was then that Jorge smirked as clapped him again on the shoulder.

“Thank you for the coffee. You saved my life this time,” he said half jokingly, but still meant every word.

He then eyed the bag of ‘snacks’ the college kid handed out to him. After he took it in hand, Jorge opened it and was immediately assaulted by the wondrous smell of fresh baked goods. Cookies, Brownies, even Cinnamon Rolls! Who doesn’t love these things? He slowly and respectfully pulled a cinnamon roll from the bag and inhaled its sweet aroma. And then, very carefully he took a bite and the taste was even better. His whole body felt awake again as h e sipped his coffee and took another full bite of the roll. The pastry would not last long.

He raised a brow to the kid and smiled after he swallowed his last bite. “You really have a talent for this. I can’t thank you enough,” he said as he finished off the roll. Afterward he relaxed back on the bench and regarded the kid closely. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to stare, especially after you’ve done such a nice thing for me. How are you doing? You don’t have to worry about Mittens. He is still safely behind bars. He won’t be going anywhere,” he said sincerely as he offered the open bag back the kid so he could help himself. After all, he did bake all of these.

>> "You look like you could use the sugar worse than I do.”

“You’ve no idea,” he said with a smirk as he finished the first cinnamon roll with a big bite.

He did not waste time in waiting and immediately reached in and pulled out a chocolate chip cookie, which he immediately took a big bite out of. A satisfied sigh of contentment fluttered out from between the bites and he had to admit that he probably looked quite the sight. Here was this college kid, whose life he saved, who had brought him a plethora of baked goods and Jorge had immediately dug in without even considering that maybe they could be poisoned or laced with a powerful sedative or something.

…

Naaah, Jorge dismissed his thought inwardly and could only chuckle. The kid was nervous, not diabolical.

>> I'm Andrew by the way."

The detective nodded as he brushed the few crumbs that were on his hand onto the side of his slacks and reached over to take Andrew’s hand firmly for a shake.

“Jorge Cervantes, as obviously, you already know,” he laughed. Obviously the kid did know his name because he was able to find him. “It’s good to meet you.”

He sighed as he finished his cookie and relaxed back against the bench and simply people watched. He was happy to have the time to gather his wits for the coming day. It started off so bad, but Andrew had managed to bring him the one thing that could calm him down and bring everything in perspective…coffee. The detective sighed briefly as he took another sip of the hot beverage and glanced once more to the kid. He was surprised. He had never met a young adult like Andrew before. Most he ran into were smart mouthed, uncaring, or broke into his house to stuff his face (Carry). But this kid was different, just maybe a little too tightly wound.

“Listen kid, I want to let you know I’m sorry you had to go through something like that with Mittens,” Jorge said as he set the bag of treats down between them. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. And my job is to make sure it does not get that far…but it did. I should not have taken that shot, if I hadn’t, he might not have been so desperate to grab you. For that I am sorry. I’m just glad I was able to get to the window in time.” Jorge was sincere as he spoke. He had only hoped the kid would not walk away with any permanent scars from the experience.

>> "You can control water right?"

Indeed Jorge had done that with the water. It really was not that big of a secret for the police department, that was actually why he was hired for the MRC, despite his long standing background as an officer. Sometimes citizens who found out, thought it was a little odd since most of their experience with mutants had been either the villainous or the costume variety, not a badge wearing police officer. But Jorge was honest whenever the question was brought up. Though he did try to keep these types of things on the down low, because of his history, he had begun to learn more and more that it was okay to be a mutant. And sometimes it was just better to admit it.

Jorge sighed as he turned back to the kid and nodded to confirm that he had done that.

“Yeah, I can move water,” Jorge said as he took a careful sip of his coffee. “Truth is I was just using it for a distraction. I needed to get his attention because it looked like he was going to pummel you. I needed him focused on me.”

It was the truth, what he said. He simply was trying to get Mitten’s attention for fear of watching the kid get squished thanks it his massive hands. But things had not gone exactly as he planned. Normally in these situations, Jorge would have created a sphere of water to encase Mitten’s head in, essentially drowning him on his feet to the point of passing out. But that would not have worked in that situation.

“Unfortunately, kid, the thing I normally do in those types of situations wouldn’t have worked. There was not enough water in the vase I found and the it would have taken too long to pull the water from the pipes that were around us,” he explained as he shifted to a more comfortable position in his seat. He noted the odd look on the kid’s face and shrugged. “Because of my mutation, I can feel whenever there is water near me. Like….” he pointed to the grassy area behind their bench. “There’s a water sprinkler there and…in about twenty seconds it’s going to go off. I can already feel the water surging through the pipes under the soil.”

Twenty-two seconds later…the sprinkler sprang to life and started to spurt water across the bed of grass that ran along the edge of the building.

Jorge smirked and shook his head. “Well, give or take a second or two.”

>> "That's pretty cool. Better than my mutation anyway."

Jorge smirked as the kid seemed to suddenly announce his like for his abilities, but then went on to pretty much reveal that he too was a mutant. For a moment Jorge did not say anything, and merely let the air between them catch what they had just finished saying. Jorge had revealed some key aspects about his mutation to a stranger, but he did pride himself in his ability to read people. So far the kid did seem trustworthy, then again he usually felt that way about anyone who brought him baked goods. But in all honesty the kid did not seem some destructive super villain. Maybe he just wanted to talk to someone he could trust too.

>> "I make promises. If I don't keep them I get hurt. There's a bit more to it than that but that's the gist of it. Well that and I get what amounts to a tattoo with each promise."

A Promise-keeper? Jorge thought as he nodded his head and listened intently to everything Andrew had told him.

Jorge was unsure of what to think about that ability. It seemed more like a fairytale curse than a mutant ability. Then again, he knew that when it came to mutants, things were not always fair. Some were gifted with the most amazing abilities that could aid or destroy mankind…while others were cursed with something that was completely beyond their control. He knew that those existed. Many times in Miami, he would answer calls in which a mutant lost control or could never control their abilities. They were pretty sights and they often left the person shattered and depressed.

A small frown appeared on his lips when he glanced down and saw the tattoo on the kid’s wrist. Already he had made a promise to someone so he wondered what it was. Was it something bad? Or did someone just make him promise to take care of himself? He did not know and he was not going to pry.

Jorge nodded as Andrew replaced the glove onto his hand. “I’m sorry Andrew. That seems like an incredible burden to have to live with.” He thought for a moment before he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. To Andrew it must have seemed like the detective was about to give him a hand out, but instead, Jorge pulled out a small business card and handed it over to him. “Here, this has my direct number for here in the precinct. You need help, you can call me any time.”