The incredibly thin man in the impeccable tailored suit, matching fedora and face covering white scarf slid smoothly into a window seat of the small cafe. He placed a large black suitcase on the table in front of him and proceed to drum long slender fingers across the top. The case didn't sound in the least bit hollow, stuffed as it was with unmarked bricks of hundred dollar bills. The man sighed settling down to wait for the phone in his pocket to ring.

A waitress asked him for his order and returned a few minutes later with a cup of tea. In a mug. The man sighed and managed to make the sound convey the bitter disappointment he felt at being served tea in a coffee mug. The waitress wandered off oblivious to her social faux pas and the man decided it was going to be one of those days. Which didn't bode well for the clients daughter.

He lifted the mug and looked at the tea, smelling it, trying to remember the taste, what the hot liquid felt like on his tongue, trying to remember what swallowing was like. He was just trying to remember the fine subtleties of having a burnt tongue when the phone finally rang.

"Hello... Yes this is Clayton Stark... yes, i have the payment in full right here... Yes of course I'm alone... No, that isn't how this is going to work. Your going to walking in here with the girl and pick up the money yourself... Because neither I nor my client are willing to take your word on anything... No it isn't because your a mutant... Oh I'm sorry I just cant bring myself to trust a man willing to kidnap a ten year old in order to fund his political agenda. Shockingly some people care about human lives than politics.... Oh that parts easy. I'm rather hard to miss, I'll be the only skeleton in the place. Just make sure the girls unharmed."

Clay closed his phone with a frustrated snap and placed it on top of the case. Political extremists were so hard to talk to, they were so touchy. It was like asking a Nazi why they had skulls on their uniforms if they were the good guys. The mutant had wanted a mutant to hand over the ransom. So Clay pulled off the scarf wrapped around his lower face and removed the fedora that shaded his eyes.

The skeleton detectives gleaming white skull caused the cafe to go quiet as people stared. Looks ranging from wonder to open hostility were directed at Clay as he calmly leaned back on his chair and inspected his cuffs for loose threads, oblivious and uncaring as he waited to pay a kidnapper.

Out on the street, Sara sat in her large white cargo van. Her long warn trench coat pulled loosely over her form fitting vest. Unlike the rest of New York, who still needed to bundle up against the cold, she didn’t require that many extra layers. Mother nature had added fur to her mutation. Fur everywhere… So Sara was just lucky that way.

For a brief time, Sara had found herself in the middle of a human trafficking mystery. It was a mystery that she had, regretfully, never fully gotten to the bottom of. But she had stopped the traffickers from using her properties. So when the WereCat had heard of the 10 year old being kidnapped, forgive her for taking things a little personally. Even those who opporated in the darker corners of New York City looked down on kidnapping children, and that’s where Sara had exploited and gotten her information.

Now armed with a car description, a name, a meeting place, and her own growing anger, Sara waited. Two cars parked across the street from her van and Sara felt her heart beat harder. They were black. One was a SUV of some type. A newer model from the looks of it, and thanks to luck, Sara would have a decent vew of the inside of the SUV when they opened the door. The other car was a Camaro. That was the one that Sara had gotten the description of. Owned by a Mr. Montero. Down the road, at the front of the café, a second camaro pulled up in front of the café. This one was red, but there was something about it that still made the hair on Sara’s arm, under the sleeve of her coat, stand on end.

Carefully, She leaned back in her seat so that she could peer out of her window, without being fully in view in the window. Her mirror readjusted and she did her best to peer around the solid side of her van as best she could but lets face it. If anyone actually looked her way, and looked past her tinted windows, she’d be seen. She was a cat. She kind of stuck out.

The SUV’s door finally swung open, and Sara got a brief look inside. A large man with thick muscles stepped out and Sara saw two girls inside. One was her 10 year old. Hold on girl. You’re almost home. She looked scared and when the other girl reached out to touch her she flinched, sinking deeper into her seat. From the moment the 10 year old was touched on the arm, the other girl became an exact copy.

Then the thick muscled man, and the fake little girl headed down the side walk to the café. His thick meaty hand heavy on her shoulder. The real 10 year old was left behind with the driver of the SUV and whom ever else was left in the Camaros.

The tea had gotten cold while he waited and Clay was feeling to jumpy to remember how cold tea tasted. So he sent it away undrunk earning him a weird look from the waitress, but what did she expect, he was dead. The skeleton tried to calm himself down but anger and frustration swirled around inside him, cutting trough his usually cool demeanor. He hated it when it was kids. It didn't matter what it was, robbery, murder or kidnap, the second a child was involved it made the whole thing a thousand times worse.

"Umm Mr.Clay? Call says to tell you that their here." Clay looked up, a little girl floated a few meters above the seat opposite him. She looked around six or seven wearing a simple cotton dress and bright red shoes. She clutched a ghostly grey teddy bear to her chest as she looked up at the skeleton with wide eyes. He glanced out of the window and cursed. While he'd been trying to sort out his feelings they had arrived and he hadn't even noticed. An SUV and some sort of ugly American muscle car, not that any car made in this century looked good. Concentrate old man! He looked away from the window and back to the ghost. "Thank you Bell. Where is she now?"

"She said she was gonna look around. I don't think she trusts them at all!"

"Call is a smart woman." Clay nodded as he pulled the suitcase off the table and down on the floor next to the chair. "Bell I want you to go now. Thank you for your help but thing are about to get... interesting."

The little ghost pouted and looked like she was about to argue. "Please Bell!" Clay spoke softly his eye sockets fixed on the door. It opened and all his attention became fixed on thickly muscled man and the girl who's arm he held in one meaty fist. The ghost relented and skipped off through the back wall, off to go haunt and watch over her ninety year old sister. Clay leaned back in his chair pushing down his frustration and anger and taking of an relaxed air.

The man didn't sit down, he simply stood on the opposite side of Clay's table still holding the girl in place. "Good morning. You must be..." Clay paused analyzing and taking in the mans appearance. Thick muscles, bald, extremely dark sunglasses, scarred knuckles, a cheap but tailored suit. An obvious hired gun but with no sign of a gun, so a martial artist or more likely a mutant. "...an associate of Mr. Montero. How hurtful. I thought I would get to meet the man himself. Hello Katie, its nice to meet you, your father has told me so much about you."

The young girl stood next to the thug her shoulder length red hair was tangled and dust covered her expensive t-shirt and jeans. Her bright green eyes were wide in her young face. Whether from fear of the man holding her or of the talking skeleton didn't matter right now. All that mattered now was that she was alive and seemingly unharmed, if a little disheveled. She matched the photo in Clay's pocket and the description from her father. Katie opened her mouth to speak but the thugs hand tightened warningly around her upper arm. "Where's the money skeleton." His voice as a low rumble.

"What? Don't you want to exchange threats first? I thought that was how this worked." Clay asked mildly.

"The money. Now or I'll blast you." Clay shrugged and reached down. The grip on the girl tightened even more and Katie gasped with pain. "Slowly skeleton. I don't want any problems. Problem's get kid's as dead as you."

With that gasp of pain the anger inside Clay went very cold and hard. He lifted the case onto the table and started to open the clasps...

"Stark? Does Katie have a twin?" Call's face popped through the glass of the window sounding worried. Call was around thirty with shoulder length dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. She wore jeans and dark top under a dark red jacket. Hanging from a chain around her neck hung the shield marking her as a detective for the NYPD. But by far her most memorable characteristic was bloody gunshot wound bang in the center of her chest, a sign she was trying to annoy her friend or that she was upset. "Because if she doesn't you have a big problem."

As luck had it, Sara hadn’t been noticed in the van. In fact the men in the cars across from her seemed to be looking in every direction but hers. What was wrong with them? Didn’t they know that in the movies a none discrete white cargo van always meant trouble? Mostly she’d used the van for hauling building supplies, but at the moment it was the only cover that she had to hide it and come on. A white scraped up cargo van does not make the best cover to hide in.

Sara’s breathing evened and she became focused as she leaned back in her seat. Still trying to hide a great deal of her fur covered face behind the door frame, but still be able to peer out the window with one eye. The man with the thick muscles and meaty hands had escorted the shape shifter into the café, and Sara allowed herself to glare at the back of his coat till he disappeared into the building. This would be a lot easier if he didn’t have reinforcements sitting in three different cars. Why did bad guys always seem to run in packs? It was annoying.

Sara waited in her seat another moment. She could feel herself getting antsy and the hunter side of her mind knew that wasn’t going to do her, or the kidnapped girl any good. Just like the use of a gun was just going to complicate things. Sara could feel the weight of a gun against her hip, under her jacket, but she wasn’t going to use it, yet. The last thing that she wanted to do was miss or give the men in the SUV a reason to shoot the girl. Sara healed, but she bet that the kidnapped girl didn’t. With any luck, the girl’s kidnappers didn’t either.

Finally after what felt like an eternity, but was really only a minute, the driver of the SUV got out. He walked to the side walk, looking up and down the side walk, and lit a cigarette. Sara’s tail flicked back and forth next to the drivers seat of the van. Now was probably the best chance that she would going to get.

Sara pushed open the heavy door of the van, and the kidnapped girl made eye contact with her. There was some obvious surprise in her face but when Sara held a finger to her mouth in a ‘Shhhh’ gesture, she settled back into her seat, nodding. Sara eased out the door, then stalked across the street to the SUV. “Hey.” Sara called out. There was someone in the passenger seat on the other side of the SUV and it was stupid for her to take her eyes off of them but for now, her focus was on the driver who’d gotten out to take a smoke. “Can you tell me how to get to the express way?” Sara stopped at the drivers side of the SUV. Her hands leaning on the roof of the car.

Clay's fingers didn't pause as he worked at the clasps but his mind started to race as he digested Call's information. He needed more information, he needed to talk to Call but he couldn't just drum up a conversation with a ghost in front of the man glaring at him from the other side of the table. Clay opened up the left clasp as he tried to remember everything he'd read in the file he'd been given on Katie. She wasn't a mutant, her father wouldn't pay for her return if she was. And she didn't have a twin, in fact she didn't have any family aside from her father. The skeleton glanced over at the girl in front of him. She matched the description exactly, a little scared, dirty and she needed a good meal but it was definitely Katie.

"Hurry it up."

"Sorry this clasp is a little." He rattled it theatrically. "Stuck." He jimmied the clasp a little more. "You have no idea how much you use your fingertips until you loose them. I mean the gloves help but..."

"Hurry. It. Up." Thug growled.

"Fine, fine. Remember patience is a virtue. You young people are always in such a rush these days." Clay rattled the supposedly broken clasp again. "So Katie are you excited about seeing your Mum and brother again?"

She opened her mouth to speak. "Shut up!" The bald man snapped and squeezed the young girls arm so hard she started to cry.

Clay stood quickly, hands on top of the case. The skeleton lent forward, his voice usually warm and jovial, had gone very soft and very cold. "I am paying for her alive and unhurt. Loosen the grip and let her talk, now. Or I will rip your soul out of your body and throw it to the wind. Or do you really think all I am is a bloody walking skeleton!"

He sneered at the skeleton and reached up to take off his sunglasses. The thug glanced down at the girl and loosened the grip a little. "Go on then Katie, give him what he wants." He only just kept the sarcasm and contempt out of his voice.

The girl swallowed nervously and nodded. "Yer, I really wanna see Mommy again."

Clays head tilted looking at her. "That's interesting..." He mused wrapping a hand around the cases handle and snapping the open clasp back into place. "And unusual considering your mother died in childbirth."

Thug cursed and thrust the girl away from him. His eyes flickered the pupils dispersing, his whole eyes glowing white and then a beam of white energy flashed from his eyes. Everything the beam touched blasted apart burning in a flash of white flame. At the same time as his chair and half of the table were destroyed Clay was diving into the aisle.

The skeleton rolled, stood and pulled the fake girl behind him as the beam of destruction swept around following him. Other patrons of the cafe screamed over the sound of energy crackling and furniture exploding. Clay dashed forward keeping low and pulling his weapon out of a specially tailored inside pocket. It was a long wooden truncheon, not the most modern weapon perhaps but it was familiar, he'd used one for years as a constable on London's streets.

"Well!" The Thug yelled, high on his own power as he raked his deadly gaze around the cafe. "You gonna rip out my soul now? You undead bas-GACK" Clay cut him off when his truncheon cracked into the side of the mans knee, and the sound was not the wood cracking. He howled in pain and the energy flickered off. For some reason he was paying more attention to the pain in his broken knee than keeping his mutation on. How unfortunate for him. Clay's helpful kick to the mans stomach got him to fall backward, crashing through the window and out onto the street. Thug then proceeded to moan feebly clutching his shattered knee, the shards of glass embedded into his back probably not helping him concentrate on reigniting his eyes.

Clay looked around the cafe, taking in the destruction from just a few short seconds of Thug's beam being active. The skeleton looked down at the girl sprawled at his feet, eyes wide and shivering. Her body shook harder and dust started falling from her. When the last of the dust fell from her body she had changed into a completely different person. She was still around the same age, but with black hair, blue eyes wearing clothes a lot more ragged and a lot less expensive than Katie's. Clay paused a few seconds trying to decide if she was working with the kidnappers or as much of a victim as Katie. "Oh bloody hell! I don't have time for this too. Girl, stay here! Its not going to be safe outside." The girl hesitated and then nodded and Clay turned, following Thug out of the window.

Clay landed lightly in the broken glass next to Thug. The bald man's eyes were starting to bleed back into white as he snarled. "I'll kill you for this you little shi..." Clay's shoe struck the mans temple at speed, cutting off what he was about to say for an hour or two.

The skeleton looked around quickly, fist clenched tightly around the truncheon in one hand the other still holding the case. "Call! Where is she?"

It was obvious by the expressions that the two henchman had when Sara approached their vehicle, that they were surprised by her. It wasn’t just her approach but probably the fact that she was a mutant who happened to look like a walking talking cat. Nonetheless, the thug who’d been driving the SUV and now stood on the other side of the car with a lit cigarette still responded to her. He didn’t seem to shy away from her, nor did he ignore her. So to her, that meant that they were either used to being around mutants, or they were mutants themselves. Inside, that thought put Sara a little more on edge because meeting other mutants was like a box of chocolates. You never knew what you were going to get.

Sara’s ears twitched when she heard the hushed voice of the passenger, on the other side of the car. “Get rid of her fast.” The cigarette shifted between the driver’s teeth as he spoke. “Just take a right and keep driving till you—TheHell!” The four of them turned with a jump to the café. Something apparently had gone wrong and the civilians were running for their lives and despite the panic, Sara couldn’t help but pick out a few individuals with their smart phones out recording the whole situation. No doubt this little scene would be uploaded to youtube where norms around the world could watch it over and over again in T minus 10… 9… 8…

The driver rushed around the front of the van. He moved to shove Sara out of his way, because if she blocked his path to the door but there was no way that she was going to simply let anyone else in that van. He reached for a gun, and Sara’s fist connected with his face. Her arm moving faster than a blink of an eye however instead of being a good little kidnapper and being knocked out with one punch, he swayed, but he was still on his feet. The gun swung out to level it with Sara’s face, only to be blocked as Sara’s forearm crossed with his. Making an audible smack as the gun was moved aside in the nick of time and a bullet sounded inches away from Sara’s pinned, sensitive, ears. Her hands locked with his gun, but he’d caught a hold of a fist full of her hair. Backing her into the side of the van. OK. So the driver was a mutant with extra strength and speed of his own… Great.

Sara could hear a scuffle behind her. The passenger, a blond woman with a tight bun in her hair and grey running jacket cursed loudly. It seemed that she struggled to make poor Katie leave the SUV, but until Sara floored her current opponent, there wasn’t much that she could do. “Lilly, Stay!” The creep that Sara was fighting screamed, and Lilly, it seemed was her name, cussed at him.

Sara pushed back against the gun. He was closing the short distance between them and Sara surprised him with another strike to his face. Catching him square in the nose. Then in the hollow part of his arm. This time using her claws, that pulled back bloody. Her opponent screamed. That arm was no longer much good to him till he had the tendons healed. The gun dropped and clattered somewhere to Sara’s right. To her left the thick muscled goon had fallen out of the window of the café.

Lilly cursed again, and Sara felt her hands on her back, through the open window. Two spots of red hot on her back that burned through her jacket till sparks flew out on either side of Sara, from Lilly’s hands. Sara's lips pulled back and she screamed. There was an explosive sound coming from where Lilly’s hands pressed against Sara’s back and it was like Lilly had hit Sara with the force of a cannon.

The force of Lilly’s explosive mutation sent Sara and the driver flying across the street, then skittering along the pavement till the two of them came to an abrupt halt after slamming into a building. Fireworks from the explosion that Lilly had created lit up the street. The driver was knocked out and Sara was left fighting her pain to her feet. The jacket was ruined with two hand sized holes burned into it’s back, and Sara’s mutation kicked in knitting burned and scraped skin back together.

Lilly scrambled to put herself in the driver’s seat. The key in the ignition turned the engine over, and she spun the wheel to try get the SUV on the move quickly.

"She's in the SUV."

"The what!?"

"Christ Clay!" She pointed at the SUV. "The big black one!"

"Its not my fault you people have so many types of car these days!" Clay groused as he ran towards it in a sprint, his light skeletal body giving him extra speed. But his way was obstructed by the people either gawking at the destruction of the cafe or the moaning Thug. Others were screaming and running away. And all of them were in between Clay and the SUV. Couldn't they see the skeleton trying to make his way through them! "Excuse me! Pardon me! Oh for the love of Pete, MOVE!!" Clay roared pushed his way through the bustling crowd. It thinned slightly and he was able to squeeze his thin body between the last few panicking humans.

He was going to be too late, he could feel it even as he started to sprint two cars away. Seconds, it would only take seconds for him to reach the car, smash the window and pull Katie out. Faster! he dropped the heavy case letting it tumble under a nearby Camaro, out of the way and hopeful safe. He could see the little girl inside the SUV along with a woman. Faster! A man and another woman with an obvious feral mutation were moving around the other side. To stop him? Probably, it wouldn't matter. The skeleton jumped planting one foot on the bonnet of the SUV and leaping toward the cat woman. He would take out the feral first then he could...

There was a scream of pain, an explosion and Clay found himself spinning through the air above the car and slamming into one of those weird blue American postboxes, the truncheon in his hand spinning out of his grip. His head reeled, vision swimming momentarily as he tried to figure out what had happened. The very edge of some kind of blast had caught him midair, throwing him away from the SUV before he could register what was going on. He was beyond lucky he hadn't broken anything when he landed. The sound of the SUV starting up caught the skeletons attention. He pulled himself to his feet, teeth gritted in anger and frustration.

Clay sprinted forward, picking up speed but couldn't keep up with the SUV as it sped away. The skeleton stopped reached into his shirt and between his ribs. He pulled out a revolver and leveled it at the SUV. His finger twitched on the trigger but he hesitated. What if he hit Katie? Clay roared heartfelt curse as the vehicle disappeared around a corner and was lost from sight. "Call! Can you follow them?"

The ghost glanced from Clay to the corner that Katie and her kidnappers had disappeared. "Its too fast, I'm sorry Clay."

Clay just stood there totally still for a few moments. How had it gone so wrong so fast! He turned, gun still clenched in one hand. They had left people behind. One of them would know where they were taking the girl. They would talk. They had too.

"Ahh, damn! The case!" Clay suddenly remembered the ransom money, he would need to pick that up at some point...

There was a moment before the blast came that Sara found herself looking up at a skeleton. Under any other circumstances she might have tilted her head, or maybe even asked a question, but in the current situation that she found herself in there was no time for any of that. Not even a simple head tilt.

The pain from the blast that Sara had taken the blunt of a moment ago, laced through her back and made her limbs shake when she tried to put weight on them. Enough that until her healing abilities could catch up with burn on her back, she was left taking raged breaths on her knees and watching as the SUV with Katie and Lilly spun it’s wheals and veered into traffic.

Somewhere, to Sara’s left, the skeleton, in the exquisite suit, had landed on a mail box. The SUV was disappearing down the street and the men in the black Camaro seemed to have noticed that something had been stashed under their car. The spun the tires, jerking the car to a stop somewhere between Sara and the case full of cash. One scrambled out of the driver’s seat to haul the mutant that had been wrestling with Sara over the driver’s seat and into the back of the car. The passenger through the suit case into the back next to him, and simultaneously they shut their doors. Tires squealing a warning at Sara before the car was in full motion and she scooted and rolled her tail side out of the Camaro’s way, coughing as she did. No she did not wish to resemble road kill today, thank you very much.

To her right the thick muscled thug’s body was being wrestled into the passenger seat of a red Camaro. The little girl who was the shape shifter was forgotten in the chaos of the café. Leaving Sara and the Skeleton man on the street. Damn that was organized. Sara thought sarcastically to herself.

She had to do something because… well.. Why she had to do something, Sara couldn’t put to words other than, it felt right. She was no hero by any stretch of the imagination, but she had the ability to do something and letting those cars drive away felt awful. Worse than the burns that had started to smooth out on her back.

Sara pushed off of the ground. First back onto her knees, then to her feet and fell into an outright sprint that carried her past the running norms. Shoving them to the ground if she had to in order to keep the Camaro and the SUV in her line of sight. Witch at the moment she could hear it, but it had beaten her around the corner. “Outa my way!” Sara hollered. The skeleton stood in her way, and she went to shove him too if he was going to stay there. Just a few more strides and she’d be twisting into the turn to follow the SUV. The poor girl.

“Outa my way!”

Clay pulled himself out of a cloud of frustration in time to see the cat feral charging toward him. His gun came back up in a flash aiming for a killshot like he had been trained all those years ago. Acceptable during war but not now. And he needed information. The Enfield No.2 revolver barked once. The bullet hitting the running mutant in the right leg. The skeleton calmly waited until she went down keeping the gun leveled. "Stay down Missy, or the next one goes between those pretty amber eyes."

With the immediate problem momentarily contained Clay turned to the others. There had been more than one car. He had been an idiot not to realize there would be more than one car. He had been so focused on Katie he hadn't stopped to check his surroundings before charging forward. Stupid, you getting stupid Old Man. He looked at the spot where he'd left the case full of money. It was missing of course, the bloody Camaro. God, I really hate modern cars. This whole case had gone pear shaped from the second he'd settled the meet.

His grip on the gun tightened as his teeth ground together, head tilted in anger. How was he going to track them down. Call was still at his side her gun pointed at the injured mutant out of memory and habit. She couldn't effect the world anymore but the cop like reaction of covering a suspect was an memory ingrained deeply into her ectoplasm. Or something, ghost psychology wasn't Clays strong point. Either way she couldn't help him or Katie much now aside from watching his back. "Keep an eye on her." The skeleton murmured, still thinking.

The girl... The young shape-shifter he needed to do something about her first. As much as he hated it he couldn't do anything for Katie until he found out where she was. The woman he'd shot would know but he didn't have the time or the stomach to do what would probably be necessary to get that information from her. The little he'd been able to find out about this Mr. Montero character had not been at all pleasant. What he'd done to the last member of his organization who'd talked had been... graphic.

No she probably wouldn't talk but that would stop the skeleton from at least trying before getting the little shape-shifter involved. But first. "Hey you!" The Skeleton called over to one of the few people left on the street. The others haveing run off after the violence or scared off by the gunshot. A man pointed to himself, looking around. "Yes you. Do me a favor and throw that over here will you?" Clay asked indicating the truncheon at the mans feet. The guy picked it up nervously and tossed it to Clay who caught it left handed without moving his gun away from the downed mutant. "Thank you, most helpful." The man sprinted away, unnerved for some reason.

Clay, both weapons in hand and feeling a lot more comfortable turned back to the kidnapper bleeding all over the pavement. He took a few moments. The others he'd seen had been wearing business suits, she was not. Lots of fur and claws that he was being careful to stay away from. He glanced at the bullet wound and was faintly surprised to see it had stopped bleeding. "Hmm you heal fast. So lets get this over quickly, I don't wish to waste another bullet on you but please stay down because I will if i have too." Clay crouched, his long thin body folding as he moved to her eye level. "My names is Clayton Stark." The Skeleton spoke in a light pleasant tone. "I'm a private investigator working for Mr. Greystone to recover his daughter. Now, normally I'm quite a nice guy and I don't really like killing. There's nothing like dieing to give you an appreciation for life." His head shifted, the new angle making his hat shadow his skull and his tone of voice went cold as death. "But when its a sodding ten year old girl being used as a pawn for political gain my rulebook goes out of the window." He stood back up and leveled the gun. The skeleton sighed, heavy with regret. He really didn't want to do this but he needed to find the girl, fast. Now that they had both her and the money Katie might not last the night, if she wasn't already dead. Clay couldn't repress a shiver imagining seeing her ghost wandering around the city and knowing it was his fault. "So unfortunately unless you tell me where your boss is taking her we're going to test the limits of your ability to heal."

He cocked back the guns hammer and aimed it at her knee. "Starting in three, two..."

Sara wasn’t in so much of a rush that she missed where that gun was first aimed. Her glaring eyes widened. She’d been shot in the head in the past, but it wasn’t pleasant and even though she’d lived through it, the event had brought out a mutation growth after it had nearly killed her. She was a healer and while that fact allowed her to be reckless, New York and its inhabitants seemed to enjoy reminding her that she wasn’t invincible.

The gun sounded making Sara flinch. Her ears pinned against the back of her head, and her right leg fell out from under her. Sending her tumbling to a stop. Damn. She could still hear the cars disappearing farther around the corner and she wanted to keep chasing them. It wasn’t till she tried to push up, off of that leg that the pain hit her. Even with her adrenalin high, the pain made her stop.

"Stay down Missy, or the next one goes between those pretty amber eyes."

Sara rocked back onto her tailside. Her left hand held in the air over her shoulder, The right pressed against the place where she’d been shot in her leg. Her jaw held tight and her eyes squeezed shut in frustration. What was that. Two mutants in less than a few moments who had gotten the best of her? She’d been loosing her touch, but she wasn’t dead. Even with all of her pent up frustration, the knowledge that she wasn’t dead kept her cooperative…. For now.

"Keep an eye on her."

A second person was with him? Sara’s eyes opened, He couldn’t have been talking to the person who’d thrown him the second weapon. Her right ear twitched and one eye brow raised as she looked around them, nostrils flaring as she looked for a sent, but there was nothing. Just the skeleton, herself, and the remaining burnt smell from the mutant with the fireworks like ability. Other than that, it was the normal smell of the city. “Great. He shoots me, then talks to air.” Sara mumbled to herself feeling one more jab at her own ego.

In the short time, she’d stopped bleeding, she’d raised her other hand to her shoulder’s level. She knew the drill. Hands where he could see them. The skeleton told her about himself. Told her of his job and what he had been doing, then gave her a time limit before he’d shoot her again. “You #$%^&*! Idiot!” Sara spat the words back at the skeleton. “I was trying to stop the car!”

Ok. Not the smartest thing that Sara had ever don’t. Insulting someone holding a gun to her. If he did shoot her in the knee, he’d likely smash the cap, and that would take much longer for Sara’s body to heal before she could walk properly than the flesh wound she’d first gotten. “Mr. Montero is not my boss. I’m not the most law abiding mutant, but I’m not a kidnapper.” Sara was trying to keep her cool, but she was starting to loose it. There was nothing she wonted more than to take off after those cars and the fact was made more clear as her eyes tore away from the contact they’d held with Clayton’s eye sockets, and started glaring where she’d seen the cars disappear around the corner. Some where in the distance, the cars had changed directions, but it was only a matter of seconds before the sounds of their engines’ blended with the rest of the City’s traffic.

“You #$%^&*! Idiot!” The cat mutant spat the words back at the skeleton. “I was trying to stop the car!”

Clay cocked his head to one side and relaxed his finger on the trigger a hair's breadth. While he didn't appreciate being called an idiot he could tolerate it, he had been called a lot worse in his time. Clay didn't like this form of interrogation. He would much rather have this woman sitting across a table from him in an interrogation room, where he would proceed to pound her into submission with his ego and charming personality. Back in the day a distinctly more flesh covered Clayton would quite often exit a room leaving a mentally exhausted criminal weeping with relief that the talking was finally over. This method was barbaric, guilt inducing and messy. But it was quicker.

What was it that The Bard said? Oh yes. Needs must when the devil drives. Clay thought as he listened to the woman talk while at the same time keeping an eye out for the police. Someone would have called them by now they would be arriving soon and the skeleton had no desire to explain why he was meeting with the man that had destroyed the cafe and why he had shot an unarmed woman. Clay winced internally, even thinking about it felt wrong. Stiffen your resolve Old Man, its for the girl, worry about becoming a monster once she's safe.

"...but I’m not a kidnapper.”

Clay's arm and the hand holding the gun didn't move an inch. He was a skeleton, he had no muscles to get tired, he could literally keep the gun pointing at her for a month and not move a fraction of an inch if he had the time or patience. He thought back to the fraction of a second before the edge of the explosion had thrown him clear of the SUV. The cat mutant, her back to the SUV, the man beside her who's arm was bleeding, a red spark coming from something he hadn't seen and then the explosion. After that he had been focused on the girl in the SUV as it had torn away.

"Stay still. Move, and we will both regret it." Clay edged around the feral until he was behind her. He looked at her back. Their were two hand shaped holes burned into her jacket, the skin and fur underneath looking tender. Freshly healed. The hands were small. More than likely a woman or a teenager had done it. Clay moved back round, completing the circle. The gun didn't waver.

"OK. You aren't working for the group I'm after. But you weren't just walking down the street either. You went straight for the SUV." Clay paused, mind whirling as he processed the information he had and mixed it with supposition. "You knew what was happening. You knew where we were meeting. So you have eyes on my employer or underworld contacts. I'm guessing underworld contacts seeing as how Greystone surrounds himself with mutant hating bigots. No offense, but you do stand out a little. But why were you drawn to this particular kidnapping..." Clay mused talking to himself now more than anything. His cold voice had long since morphed back into his usual light toned jovial one. The skeleton flashed on a memory of a case from a few months ago and then to the little shape-shifter in the cafe. The one in ragged clothes and who seemed so scared.

"Kidnappings... The Scarlet Russian... Bloody human trafficking again." Clay growled angrily. "That's why your here! You were trying to save the girl! This was a side job, a way for Montero to make more money out of Katie. He's a sodding human trafficker. Christ! I thought he was just a mutant extremist! This is why i hate rush jobs. If I'd know he was a bloody trafficker..."

The skeleton lowered the gun and slid it into his shirt, two rips parted for him to slide it into the holster strapped to the inside of his ribcage. His over hand slid the truncheon into its long jacket pocket at the same time. he stepped closer to the woman he had shot. Clay didn't care if she took a swipe at him, he would deserve it if she did. He reached out a gloved hand to the woman to help her up. "I'm so sorry." His voice full of the emotion his skull couldn't express.

Well he didn’t shoot her for calling him an idiot. That was a positive thing, Sara supposed, but at the same time, that gun didn’t lower away from it’s mark. Come on drop the gun.

"Stay still. Move, and we will both regret it."

Damn… Sara’s eyes left where they narrowed on the barrel of the gun and glared back up at the skeleton’s empty eye sockets. The tip of her tail twitched in her annoyance. As he walked around her, she cooperated by staying still. Her hands still held in the air where they were easily seen but just because she could hold her arms up that long without feeling fatigued, didn’t mean that she was happy about it by any means. No. If he was really going to shoot her, he’d have to do it while she was looking at him. Turning her head to look over her other shoulder when he’d passed directly behind her. “Satisfied yet?” At least the burn, Sara’s body could deal with on it’s own. Where he’d shot her in the leg, Sara was going to have to deal with later… For the record, Getting shot sucks and Clayton could drop that gun any time now..

However instead, he seemed to feel the need to tell Sara what he thought of everything. A waste of time if you were to ask her and the tip of her tail showed it as it flicked again.

“… No offense, but you do stand out a little.”

“Speak for yourself!” Sara snapped back at him. He could drop the gun any time now.

” But why were you drawn to this particular kidnapping..."

Sara gave a one shoulder shrug. Frankly in her own eyes it could have been any kidnapping. If a kid was involved and she had a way of doing something about it, she would. There shouldn’t have to be any question about it, but he was right about something, even if he talked too much and kept that gun on her too long.

“No one should have to go through being held against their will. Not for that.” Sara mumbled. Finally that gun was lowered at it seemed that both the skeleton’s weapons were put away.

"I'm so sorry."

Sara smacked the skeleton’s offered hand away from her. He shot her, he shouldn’t even begin to think that he could make things all better just like that. He’d cost her the chance to follow the three cars, and an ’I’m so sorry didn’t fix a thing. She wasn’t thinking of how she would have gotten past four healthy mutant’s for hire to get Katie, once she’d been seen following them. Heck, she wasn’t even thinking of how she would have gotten Katie out of the SUV without causing it to crash. She was only thinking of how she would have… figured it out when she’d gotten to that point.

Her hands shoved against the ground, and she found her way to her feet in a heart beat. “A year ago, I was running a storage business. Mr. Montaro was part of a group of mutants who were using my properties to traffic children and woman. When I found out, I tried to put a stop to it.” Sara’s throat tightened in frustration. “I’m still trying to put a stop to it.” Sara started walking back to the café. There had to be something that she could follow left there other than the stench left by the woman’s fireworks mutation.

((Sorry this is so late Were. Works been a nightmare for the past few weeks. I'm back on day shifts now so I should be ok to post whenever you like now))

"...I tried to put a stop to it.” Clay's head regretfully bowed as he heard her frustration. “I’m still trying to put a stop to it.”

Clay sighed and looked around the floor. This job had gone to hell, the skeleton suddenly longed for a nice warm office and a stack of cold case files. To follow cold leads, helped by ghosts, gathering enough evidence to put away murderers who, without his meddling, would never see the inside of a prison. A thin hand tightened into a fist, bones popping, supple leather squeaking softly. Kidnappings had never been his forte even when he was alive. He enjoyed solving clues, not car chases! And I shot that woman! What was I thinking...?

"Katie" The ghost said, not unkindly. Clay looked up.

Call stood in front of him hands in pockets looking at him with a small smile and eyes as hard as granite. "Katie" She repeated, "The longer your standing their moping around and thinking about the good old days the long shes stuck with those sick ****'s will have her!"

The fist tightened a little more and then relaxed. The skeleton sighed without any sign of a breath and then nodded. "Your right of course. Do me a favor, get everyone who you think will help and tell them to look for the girl. Try the warehouses and self storage businesses first. I'll try to see if the shape shifting girl knows anything. But one of the city's undead might find something."

Call nodded. "I'll see what i can do. But don't ask for miracles. Good luck Stark" With that she turned and faded from even Clay's ghostly vision.

The skeleton clapped his hands together making a loud clacking sound and turned on his heel walking after the justifiably angry mutant. "Excellent. Now I'm off to talk to my gunshot victim and hope she doesn't want to either press charges or ask why I'm talking to empty air."

He caught up with long strides and fell into step beside her. "OK it has come to my attention that we both want to accomplish the same thing. The liberation of young Katie Greystone and the incarceration of the men who took her. After we've put the fear of god in them of course. That is if your willing to work with me at all. Oh and by the way I'm sorry i shot you but to be fair I was expecting a group of hostile mutants and you were running straight for me. I realize now you were after the car, but at the time..." The skeleton shrugged expansively. "Your lucky. You have a healing factor. Some of us have to heal naturally, if at all..."

They reached the entrance of the cafe and the detective stuck his head in and looked around. Most of the customer's had run off. Only the frightened waitress remained, huddled behind a table and whimpering when she saw Clay. Clay's shoulders slumped as he looked around. Then he cursed fluidly and imaginatively. "The girls gone! She was the only lead I had left!" He fell into a chair and pulled out a notebook, flipping through the recent pages hoping he'd missed something. "Damn... What have you got?" he asked hopefully, looking up at his partner by necessity.

One of the good things about Sara, was that as quickly as her temper could come out, she could also calm herself down just as quickly. With every step that she took closer to the café where the action had taken place at first, her shoulders became more and more relaxed. It also helped that Clayton had said her eyes pretty and called her a woman. Even if he had been holding a gun to her head, he hadn’t called her a monster.

Her right ear flicked back in Clayton’s direction and she couldn’t help but notice that he was continuing to talk to himself… Or someone. She paused just outside the café waiting for him. Her head tilted, arms crossed, as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

”… But one of the city's undead might find something."

OK. That explained it. Sara had met others who could talk with the dead, or undead, and she found it easing to know that she wasn’t having to deal with someone who just plain heard voices. Clayton moved to catch up with her. Well the skeleton wasn’t the only one who could tell people about themselves. “You talk to ghosts.” Sara said simply as Clayton caught up and she turned to continue on her way. Their strides adjusting to match each other’s. She shrugged at Clayton’s apology. “It happens. It just happens to happen to me a lot but yeah. Something about having a face like a cat.”

They entered the café and Sara sighed. Her fist tightened at her side. The waitress looked scared still but also at a loss for what to do. Leave the place of business where she had a responsibility. Responsibility that was probably the only thing that kept her from running, or… Run. “You still got some tea? Preferably iced… Or just water would do.” Healing took a lot from Sara’s body, but it wasn’t as costly as bleeding did. Her body healed, but she still needed to stay hydrated. The waitress nodded, numbly. The small task that Sara had given her shook her from her position and she seemed to do better with something easy for her mind to think about.

"Damn... What have you got?

Sara rubbed her face with the padded palm of her hand. “Just give me a moment. There’s something off and I can’t put my finger on it.” Sara replied. Sara’s head was starting to feel numb. And like it would start pounding at the same time. “My name’s Sara by the way.” She said as she sank into a chair across from him. Her legs crossed and she leaned back heavily on the back of the chair.

Her ears twitched and she distinctly heard three heart beats. Witch made sense, there were three of them in the café right then and there… Scratch that… Her amber eyes shifted over to Clayton, then swept the space behind him. “You don’t have a pulse. Do you?” The waitress had brought Sara her ice tea, and Sara murmured a thank you that was more out of the habit of being polite that a fully thought out command. Rising with her tea, she was looking for the third pulse. Trying to pinpoint it with her ears swiveling back and forth and her nostrils flaring. When it came to tracking, Sara was better than a blood hound.

She finally came to rest and relax next to the table that had been directly behind Clayton. The pulse was coming from that table and as Sara slid a hand across it’s wood surface, the edge of it shook ever so slightly. “Come on. No one is going to hurt you.” If Sara was wrong, she would have looked stupid, but she wasn’t and she knew it. A fact made even more present when little droplets of water formed across the table’s surface and smeared at her touch. “Mamm?” Sara addressed the waitress. “Do you have a clean cloth? One of your tables is sweating.”

“You talk to ghosts.”

Clay gracefully missed a step before correcting himself and continuing at her side. He considered breathy to ignore her or perhaps claim to not know what she was talking about. But he was still feeling a little guilt for shooting her and it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she found out. It would certainly be nice to have it out in the open and not have her looking at him like he was crazy if he needed to talk to any other ghosts during their time together. So he shrugged his boney shoulders. “Yes, I can. And sometimes they even talk to me. You have very good senses.”

Clay flicked through his notebook looking for something, anything that he had missed, looking up only to be dismissed for the moment. “Take all the time you need, but the police should be arriving soon and I'd rather not have to explain what I'm doing here.” He would have gone back to his notebook but his companion (Sara his mind filed away) was looking around, ears twitching. She said something was off. But what? Clay wished now that he'd asked Bell to stick around the cafe, but he'd sent her away so...

He casually replaced the notebook in a pocket a hand resting on the truncheon inside his jacket. He began to scan the little cafe. Taking in the ruined walls, overturned tables and shattered crockery. It seemed what The Thugs eye beams hadn’t broken the rest of the customers had in their mad dash for the door. He would send a little anonymous cash to the owner when he had the time. The least he could do. Besides the only thin he needed money for was rent. It wasn’t as if he needed food or heat. It was surprising how much you could save when you didn’t need to pay for the little things.

“You don’t have a pulse. Do you?”

He cocked his head and then looked at her twitching ears. “No. I've been pulse free since fifty-three. I confess to missing the sensation occasionally.” The fleshless head straitened as he figured it out, his grip on the cold wood in his jacket tightening. He went as quiet as possible and resisted the urge to ask what she could hear. She was picking up on something the he could not. Her senses obviously even sharper than he'd guessed. He mentally re-evaluated her, putting her in a more dangerous column. People who could sense others in a room without needing to see them could be dangerous. Especially if they had inbuilt weapons as a part of their mutation.

Clay turned and looked at the table still staying quiet. But then his head cocked to an amused angle and her realised the grip on his weapon. Instead he watched with growing pleasure as Sara tried calm down a table that wasn’t a table. He chuckled softly at her joke as it started to sweat slightly. He wished he still had eyebrows to raise, this would be the perfect time. Instead he turned back, picked up Sara's ice tea and carefully fished out an icecube. He then placed it in the middle of the perspiring table to see what would happen.

Clay shrugged. “What can I say. I'm a horrible human being. And time is still an issue. Young lady we have no intention of harming you, in point of fact keeping you safe is a rather high priority at the moment.” The faint sound of sirens began to fill the air.