"Honesty is the best policy," Amelia confirmed.

The hand vanished with nary a sound nor flick of the wrist.

So, she was being stoic, then. Under her breath, she commented. "Stoic is better than a weeping mess."

Jameson nodded, wrapping his hands around each other. He was not fidgeting. His parents were not going to go apeshit when they found out what was going on.

Just then, the key turned in the lock.

"And here they are." He said, leaning back in his seat, Jameson waved as the couple made their way around the corner and into the room.

Jameson's mom was tiny. It was probably why he was less than impressive in stature. She had dark hair that curled around her shoulders, and looked like she'd probably be more at home in a boutique than a business office. She stopped short, and broke into a wide grin when she saw that Jameson wasn't alone.

"Ohhhhh. So that is why you didn't answer your phone." She said, crossing her arms and smirking at her son.

"Are you going to introduce us?"

It could have been worse. Jameson told himself...his mom had only been mildly mortifying after all.

"Mom. This is Ami. Ami...my mom."

Amelia set her root beer back down on a coaster. She suddenly realized she'd been really bad about drinking it, and hadn't even had a sip. Where had her appetite been? Ah yeah, drama and dialogue. That's where it was. Jameson's parents appeared, as if on-cue.

His mom entirely missed her son's bruise, fixating on the girl in the room. Typical mother.

"Good evening, Mrs. Harris. Mr. Harris."

Mr. Harris was of medium height, with dark brown hair like his son's, kept short. He had a slight mustache, but it was well-groomed. He looked professional. He eyed his son and gave the both of them a 'professional' nod.

"Evening," he said.

Yup. They were already doing it.

Jameson's mom beamed and introduced herself right back to Ami, and his dad stood there looking between the two of them. He noticed the bruise first, and Jameson knew when he did. It was the slow eyebrow raise, and the surreptitious glance towards Jameson's mother. There was no way she wouldn't notice. Jameson dropped his head in a mildly defeated nod as his mother chattered away at Ami.

"I hope you didn't get that bruise fighting to impress this young lady." He said, and immediately his mother was on him with laser focus, brushing back his hair with fire in her eyes.

Jameson winced, pulling away from her hands.

"I didn't get it from fighting...it's actually a little more complicated than that."

His mother stepped back and crossed her arms, looking between the two of them.

Well. This had escalated quickly.

Amelia decided she should be the one to step forward and clarify... not that any stepping forward was involved. She was still in a seated position. "He fell," she explained. "He was being carried by a kidnapper. I saved him."

Simple as that. She was sure there'd be questions, but with situations like this, it was better to tear the bandaid off than let it stay there and get gross and smelly over a period of weeks.

Ami's frankness earned her a glare from Jameson as the room exploded.

It didn't seem possible that a room could explode with only four people in it, but the two adults did a great job of making it happen. For a moment, there was nothing but voices, and then the diminutive woman in the middle of the room took charge.

Holding up a hand, she spoke loudly. "Stop." She pointed at the chair that Jameson had risen from at some point. "Sit."

There was nothing else for it. Jameson sat.

"Explain."

It had only taken three words, but Jameson cracked like an egg shell.

"It's not what you think...it was just around the corner...and there was this lizard guy...and then I phased...and if Ami hadn't been there the guy would have just dragged me off. I bashed my head when he dropped me."

Yeah. He'd done a terrible job explaining that.

"It's true," she chimed in. "We should probably call the police, and file a report so they know to be on the lookout for the guy. He might try it again. May have, already, if we wound up taking too much time phoning it in..." She trailed, aiming a glance Jameson's way. "Jameson was just walking with me and talking. We weren't doing anything risky to get the guy's attention. Worst we did was take a shortcut down an alley in New York." It was a wonder nobody got shot.

Yeah, yanking that bandaid off had hurt... Jameson, mainly. But she could help with that. "Please don't ground him over it. It wasn't his fault. And if you're worried about his safety, I know a great Aikido instructor who could probably take one more."

And his palm hit his forehead...and it hurt a whole lot because of the lump that was still there.

His mom wasn't impressed by the explanation either. In fact, it looked like her eyes were about to pop out of her head for a moment before she visibly pulled herself together. Sometimes his mother's mastery of calm seemed other-worldly.

"One thing is for sure. We definitely need to call the police." She said, moving over to Jameson to poke and prod at the lump. He jerked his head away as thoroughly as possible, but was thwarted at every turn. There was nothing to do but suffer through her examination. Finally, she released him.

"You went down an alleyway?"

Jameson almost facepalmed again.

"Yes, but it was right down the street mom. I don't know why the guy was after me...Ami told the truth, she kicked his butt when I phased out."

There was that calm again.

"I'm going to call the police. Get your story ready." She said, then left the room.

The look on Amelia's face was a sheepish, helpless 'sorry'. But it had needed doing.

She didn't say anything further as Jameson's mom left, just watched her leave. For a second, silence reigned. Luckily for comedic relief, Jameson's dad was still there. "So," he said. "You two weren't on a date?"

Amelia blinked.

Yup. Face palm number too. And it hurt.

"No Dad. We weren't on a date. I ran into Ami on the bus after I went across town."

Mr. Harris nodded his head. "Right."

Jameson looked at Ami. "This is what I was warning you about." He said.

"I see," Amelia nodded sagely. "I've dealt with worse." And she had.

"My dad listens in on my personal calls some times. Thank goodness for cellphones." She said, in front of the parental unit, hopefully, giving him ideas.

Although now that she wasn't seeing anyone, the density of calls would shift, and it would be mainly her friends. She'd still need a cellphone... and maybe she needed a job. Volunteering for Kealey was great, but it didn't pay.

Ami's parents listened in on her phone calls? Jameson felt one of his eyebrows rising up his forehead in her general direction. He hadn't pegged her for the kind of rebel that inspired parents to spy. Then again, he hadn't really thought she seemed the type to beat up a giant lizard in a back alleyway either.

He really needed to work on his people judging skills.

Still though, maybe he didn't have it so bad. As far as Jameson knew, his parents had never done such a thing...which reminded him.

"Uh Dad..." he said, sheepishly. His dad had taken all the kidnapping business pretty well in stride, but the next part would be more difficult.

"During all the commotion...I sort of lost my cell phone."

Yup. The amusement drained from Mr. Harris' face, and he shook his head. "I'm going to go find your Mother. We'll talk later."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Jameson groaned and slouched back in his seat, eyeing Ami across the coffee table.

"I wish I could blame you for this. It would be easier than feeling useless."

Amelia plopped back down and sipped her root beer.

"Blaming other people is never the answer, though..." She trailed. It wasn't. But it was sure easier. It didn't take a stretch of her thinking units to find a few people she could blame. A small sigh escaped her as she turned her thoughts elsewhere. Drinking that root beer was a good start.

"So, yeah. Guess I can make red stuff with my mind, now. That's cool," she said, in a tone that really wasn't all that excited about it. Colors, mutations. Whoop dee doo. Just meant she could fight lizard dudes better. Didn't really change anything else in her life.

Jameson grabbed on to the power talk like a little life-line. It was way better to talk about things like that than it was to think about the fact that there were going to be police in his apartment very soon. Police who were going to talk to him about the fact that he'd nearly been kidnapped.

Insanity. Yes. Powers were much better.

"How did you learn to be so good?" Jameson found himself asking.

"I mean, I go to lessons and I can still barely get in and out of myself on purpose. I've never seen you at lessons, but you're taking out kidnappers and making red stuff."

"It's cool. Like a real super power."

There were topics she could chat about, things she could say while sighing, and looking out of windows, and complaining about ex-boyfriends and how they preferred to talk about their problems with ugly redheads with catty claws. Those topics would be easy enough to latch on to, like a plank of wood at the crash site of the Titanic. But she figured if she held on to them, the waters surrounding them would make her cold. Those were the traditional types of topics, that let one vent and be bitter. She wasn't a traditional type of girl.

"I could help train you," she suggested offhandedly, followed by a sip of the root beer. Root beer rested on knee. "Or take you to a self-defense class. I know a really cool Aikido instructor. That sort of thing would probably be a lot more useful than learning to toss around fancy powers." Yeah, that topic was a lot better. She found herself with a tiny smile, at the thought of Jameson dealing with Quin. It wouldn't be easy for him. That would be half the fun. That smile? Yeah, might've been a little wry. "That is, if you can handle getting thrown around by a girl."