"To be fair, I'm not an X. But it doesn't seem like you guys are exactly card carrying members so that's convenient." Just so long as she never directly answered the question anyway. She tried to answer all the questions posed to her without unnecessarily incriminating herself, but that was a bit excessive. "Besides, are we really ever completely disarmed?"

The blood on her hands from applying pressure to one of the gunman's wounds had long since flaked off. Her boots and jeans were stiff with dried blood, but dark. They didn't show anything. Her only issue was the hair.

She accepted the weapons, checked them, and re-sheathed them. They needed a good cleaning. Was that blood under her nails?

> "One sec."

Noel stopped and watched as Cafas ducked into cafe a restroom.

Oh. Good idea.

The mirror above the sink showed Noel just how frazzled she was. That was a lot of adrenaline after a pretty decent workout. She washed her face and plucked at the dried bits in her hair. Really, there was not helping it and she would rather not have Cafas wait on her.

She was out before him. Perfect.

"Catch." As soon as he was close, she tossed him a bottle of water that cost about half an hour's wages. "So what now, boss?" She cracked open her own water. Ah. Cold. Worth every penny then. She was oddly keyed up even if she was exhausted from the day's events. Did she have work? Noel checked her phone.

Water. Hydration. Good idea. Accepted gratefully. He gave himself a mouthful to think. He really didn't have much of a plan for the rest of the day. He'd have a lot of paperwork to do after that fiasco. Yet another downside of working with the cops. "Might be an idea to get out of the public eye for a little while, at least until we can wash the rest of the blood off. We can go back to my place for now, maybe pick you up some new clothes on the way... Calley might have something to fit, he's a bit taller than you though."

Another mouthful to collect his thoughts. Cafas had some plans to put into action. He wondered if Noel would be up for it? Hard to tell, something to talk about later, not a conversation for public. The sort of thing he was thinking... He figured Saph would be in, if he could catch him. he made a note to try.

Calley most certainly wont. Not with this cop work.

He'd figure out others later. Might be time to start watching the news again.

The third mouthful finished the bottle. People really needed to sell water in more useful quantities. "Pick up some food on the way maybe. Pizza or something. Preferences?" Yeah it was about time to start with this. He knew the X-men weren't going to change any time soon and the anti-mutant prejudice was starting to become increasingly open once more.

"I'd rather not wear your honeybun's clothes." Besides the fact that Noel did not know Calley from Adam, there was a HUGE ick factor in that the clothes came from a guy that liked guys. And they could have possibly... rubbed beards... or something. And Cafas liked that guy. Wearing someone else's lover's clothes in FRONT of that person was just... not okay. "New clothes aren't magically gonna make me clean. I can deal."

Her apartment wasn't exactly on the way either. She flipped through her phone for the day's reminders and work schedule. Nothing lined up for tonight. That was probably why she'd agreed to spar today during the day. That didn't mean she wouldn't get a call, though.

Once glance at Cafas showed that he was equally, if not more, introspective. "I don't much care what we eat so long as it comes with Diet Coke." Her palms itched just thinking about it. Actually eating didn't sound amazing right now, but Noel was sure once she smelled food that she would want to eat it.

"Carnitas maybe? There's a truck on the north side of 96th by the metro stop." She had an app for locating food trucks. Super handy. They'd have to hit a corner store for soda. That part was non-negotiable.

"I'd rather not wear your honeybun's clothes."

Ew... Honeybun. Cafas had a couple of issues with that one. Mostly though it was its stomach aching and tooth rotting sweetness.

Sweetness, there's another bad one.

"New clothes aren't magically gonna make me clean. I can deal."

"No but it does save you from redressing in blood and sweat soaked clothes." It took Cafas a moment to realise he had at no stage directly mentioned a shower at his place, as he had intended to. Another to realise how that sentence therefore sounded. "After a shower that is..." Yeah, saved.

"I don't much care what we eat so long as it comes with Diet Coke. Carnitas maybe? There's a truck on the north side of 96th by the metro stop."

"Sounds good to me. I suspect we'll be walking though, no cab will take us like this. Not that it's overly far anyway." The adrenal come-down was hitting him full force by that point. He was suddenly starving and vaguely weak kneed. It was a sensation he was used to. The X-men were at least good for the regular adrenal surges.

"So you ever catch up with that friend of yours? Stephen was it?" He felt slightly responsible for the last time. Who the hell smiles and waves in New York? People with publicists telling them to. Maybe he should simply bite the bullet and move to L.A.. Somehow Cafas doubted that would do the whole crime fighting thing any good.

Re-dressing? Noel raised an eyebrow.

> "After a shower that is..."

Ah yeah. Fat chance on that one too. Her throbbing headache wasn't going to get better when weighed down by 30 some-odd pounds of wet hair. But pinky wouldn't know that and there was no point in debating it until the time came.

Not like was gonna force her into the shower, right?

The memorymancer shoved her phone into her pocket and rubbed at her forehead as they walked.

> "So you ever catch up with that friend of yours?"

"I don't think so, but he's an easy one to pick up with when the time comes. I've got a lot of his past." She only had spotty memories, but a lot of them belonged to two different men: Stephen and some Irish dude. Al- Ad- uhh something that started with an A. She'd think of it when they stopped moving probably.

"He's one of the first people I picked up swordplay from." Though she'd never tried out any of the other tricks he knew. Stealing really wasn't her thing. But it did make her better at spotting thieves which was a legitimate help as a security guard.

She rubbed at her eyes. "Ugh. I'll meet you at the truck. I'm gonna pick up some medicine at the corner store." And Diet Coke. Always Diet Coke. "You want something to drink?" The line at a food truck could go around the block. Or nobody could be there. "If you have to order before I get there just grab me the same as you."

Migraine gel caps were calling her name.

"I don't think so, but he's an easy one to pick up with when the time comes. I've got a lot of his past. He's one of the first people I picked up swordplay from."

"Well I suppose that'd make it a lot easier to catch up, yeah. How does that work anyway? Picking up people's pasts?" He hadn't quite considered the implications of that until just then. He may need to be more careful, his past wasn't likely to make him many friends.

"Ugh. I'll meet you at the truck. I'm gonna pick up some medicine at the corner store. You want something to drink?"

"Gatorade, the blue one please. The good blue one I mean." Ice or something? Who knew anyway, people only ever use the colours. All he knew is there were two blues, one light blue and good, one dark blue and sucky.

Why does it even exist?

"If you have to order before I get there just grab me the same as you."

"Will do." He suspected she wouldn't be able to eat as much as he could. It would be downright impressive if she could. They parted ways for the time. Cafas kept on toward the cart, hungrier by the minute as his body caught up with how much energy it had just expended.

The line, when he reached it, was mercifully short. Relatively speaking. It didn't extend more than a quarter mile like he knew some places could. He joined it, fighting off a wave of fatigue he could feel hiding behind the fading endorphins. He knew better than to allow that through before he got home.

No-one bothered him in the line. Maybe it was the sword at his hip, his sheer mass, or the clear signs of a recent fight...

Or the pink hair making you look nuts...

...Whatever it was, Cafas was grateful for it. He moved up the line, his stomach letting him know he was about to spend more than necessary, his brain too distracted to realise. He hit the top of the line. "Eight with everything." The guy gave him an odd look, but Cafas already had his wallet out.

The man made the order quickly, put them in a styrofoam carry box and held his hand out for payment. Cafas dropped two notes in the guy's hand. They were either fifties or hundreds, he couldn't tell easily enough to care with US money, all he knew was that it covered it. He stepped away a few paces and scanned for Noel.

Noel counted out change from the depths of her wallet and ended up taking a few from the take-a-penny cup in order to make perfect change. "What? That's what it's there for."

She exited the corner store with two gatorades, one of each blue, and a two liter for herself. Yes. It was that kind of day. She worked open the two liter and took a swig out from the top to wash down the gel caps she'd gotten. It was probably placebo or caffeine addiction or something because that was a near instant release of tension from between her eyes.

The headache wasn't gone, but it was a start.

Cafas was just leaving the truck with box in hand when Noel got there, two liter under one arm and bag of gatorades. Her mouth did an admirable impression of a river. "Please tell me your place isn't far. That smells divine."

"Couple blocks, down by central park." Cafas set off walking. Gatorade was passed into his possession, thankfully accepted. He couldnt find a spare arm to open one with so he settled for a faster pace. His stomach seemed under the impression that he was genuinely starving, he blamed the proximity of food. Distraction tactics would need to be employed. As they weaved through other, less stomachly frustrated people (read: slower) he, for a moment, forgot that open and public discussion of mutations was still dangerous. "You never did tell me how you aquire people's memories." Had she licked that guy's rifle earlier? Was that it?

Heads were turned, a wider berth given, several angry mutters were heard. He didn't really notice the specifics, he did sense the rise in tension around them though. Still, as long as everyone just kept going about their business and didn't try anything he wasn't overly worried. Cafas didn't want to have his day marred by any more violence. The amount of blood in his clothing was bad enough already. Somewhere nearby he could hear a camera taking rapid photos. He wasn't really in the mood for reporters but they did work as a crime deterrent. Sometimes.

"Not much further." They'd just hit Central Park.

> "You never did tell me how you acquire people's memories."

"You noticed that, did you?" Noel wrinkled her nose in response to a once-over she got from another woman. She could tell the other lady had made up her mind based on what she heard before she ever even looked at Noel.

But the extra walking room was a unique luxury on a New York street. Noel figured she'd never see any of these strangers again anyway.

"TLDR; I taste them." A matter of fact answer. She could have teased him, but in all honesty she was embarrassed about it all. The memorymancer kept her eyes on the path in front of them so that she wouldn't feel the need to gauge Cafas' reaction.

> "Not much further."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that this is a really expensive part of town."

>>"Uhhg what is that smell!?"

Noel lengthened her stride yet again. This was the power walk of ages.

"You noticed that, did you?"

Cafas was, after time spent with Calley, quite used to rhetorical questions dodging points. He gave it a typical Calley learned response. A single arched eyebrow and a sidewards glance. Unmistakably the look of one who feels the point is being dodged. Appropriately.

"TLDR; I taste them."

Interesting. "You didn't lick that guy earlier, seemed to know everything though. Was it the rifle?" Cafas was too fascinated by his bodyguard come friend's mutation to really notice she was uncomfortable. He knew mutations could do some crazy stuff, heck Kealey could control emotions, which he figured was a hormonal thing on the receiver end. He hadn't really considered the possibility of that level of effect on the brain.

Mirror might have been a give away... Never thought about the brain part of it.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that this is a really expensive part of town."

"Looking at me now, where I live, how I live, you'd never know I lived on the street between seventeen and nineteen, or believe what I've done to eat or have a warm place to sleep..." More of the broad, all encompassing you than specifically Noel. Heck, she'd be able to tell if he were lying.

The doorman greeted him as usual, Cafas returned the greeting, passed a moment of small talk, "How's the family?" "Son doing well at school?" that sort of thing. Through the Foyer, check the mail. Bill Bill Script Handwritten letter.

Wait, what was the last one?

Hand written letter. He opened it.

Sword order? Sweet.

Elevator up. Pass a look to see if there would be a comment about his lack of elevator man. Top floor. Key, lock, twist. Home.

through the entry way into the dining room. "Excuse the mess." On the antique dining table, either side of a matching chair, two boxes, one half filled with unopened letters, the other much the same, just all big enough to post an a4 page unbent. in the middle a silver marker, a felt tip pen, a stack of headshots and a stack of empty envelopes. As for mess, the rest of the table was nearly covered in letters, fan art, assorted other things. One box marked "destroy" was on the floor beside the chair. Let's just not go there.

Cafas ducked into the kitchen and grabbed a pair of plates, as well as utensils, just in case those tortillas didn't hold. He cleared 2 spots at the table. "Want anything harder than the Cola?"

Calley wasn't home, Cafas found that very disappointing, but it was hardly unexpected.

"Yeah, the rifle." Noel confirmed Cafas' assumption about where she got her memories. "You leave a little bit of yourself behind wherever you go and things are a little less awkward to taste." Make that much less awkward, but a tad more risky. Who else could have held that rifle? She might have gotten lost falling down the wrong rabbit hole. But she didn't. Not this time.

> "Looking at me now, where I live, how I live, you'd never know I lived on the street..."

That did earn Cafas a cut of her eyes. "No wonder your head's not up your butt." Ah. That came out wrong. "I mean, you're incredibly down to earth for a rich guy. Yeah. I'll stop talking now."

One doorman, mail cubes, elevators without attendants. It wasn't screaming lavish extravagance like she had come to expect.

> "Excuse the mess."

"Excuse the intrusion." Who knew the ticket to Cafas' apartment was a little gore?

And a mess meant no maid. Noel was practically burning with curiosity now. She tried to take in every detail. The wall colors were neutral. Possibly left over from the last tenants. She set her soda down on the table, noting the filigree and feet. She didn't have to ask if it was antique. Somehow, she couldn't help but approve of the mess.

> "Want anything harder than the Cola?"

"No. Thank you." Noel didn't drink alcohol, as a rule, but she didn't want to make him feel bad for offering. She was on her best behavior. "Uh. Is it alright to sit?" Her pants were the worst offenders as far as blood soaking went. Most of it had dried, but she was betting her knees may still be tacky.

Noel hovered near the headshots. "If you ever need to find one of those fans... or to know their intent..." The memorymancer shrugged. She figured that she would offer.

"Yeah, the rifle.You leave a little bit of yourself behind wherever you go and things are a little less awkward to taste."

"Yeah most people don't want strangers licking them." He knew from experience he preferred when people did not suddenly lick him. At least Noel would have some excuse. Well, maybe. Hopefully. Maybe she simply liked to lick people for memories sometimes.

Cafas chose to simply drop the topic rather than discuss the relative position of his head from the reference point of his butt. He knew what she'd meant, but he felt even after clarification it was likely the sort of thing it was polite to pretend never happened. At least until they were a bit closer. Like falling down the stairs. Usually best to leave it, but if you're close enough, you never let them live it down.

---

"Excuse the intrusion."

Niceties, they kind of confused Cafas sometimes. Was it an intrusion if he'd invited her in? He didn't think so. If anything he was intruding upon her. It was always an awkward thing, entering someone else's home for the first time. It would certainly be rude to vocalise any of that in way of response though, at least to his mind.

He also refrained from drinking, given Noel wasn't. He might have asked if she minded, but in truth he didn't really mind one way or the other. Still, he grabbed a pair of glasses. Noel's cola bottle was likely not the most comfortable to swig from.

"Uh. Is it alright to sit?" Cafas hadn't considered that. He examined his own pants. Grime, dirt, blood, sweat. He probably didn't want that in his upholstery.

When did I turn into the sort of person to worry about upholstery? Probably when it became my own furniture.

"You're probably right, best not. C'mon we'll eat on the patio." He grabbed food, plates and glasses and headed for the stairs.

"If you ever need to find one of those fans... or to know their intent..."

Cafas paused and looked back, an amused grin on his face, though with a touch of 'the things I've seen'. "Thanks, but most of the make their intentions aaaaaaaall too clear."

A brief flight and a poking of head into bedroom in case of boyfriend later they were outside, on a corner patio, level with the top floor.

Compared to the furnishings inside, the stuff on the patio looked like it had come from just any old place(because it had). A round glass topped table, a pair of aluminium seats, A few potted plants by the railing. The best part, really, was the view over Central Park. He set the patio table and sat down, pouring a tall glass of gatorade. The less pleasant blue first, without so much as a hint as to which was the good one.

"So, how was that as a first taste of the daily duties of X-men?" A rueful smile touched his lips. In truth it had simply involved more guns than the average day for a lot of mutants, no less violence or persecution.

>"Thanks, but most of the make their intentions aaaaaaaall too clear."

"Could be the difference between intention and intent on action. Just let me know if you find one that gives you the willies." She didn't especially want to see into the memories of someone creepy, but if it was to keep Cafas safe, she would.

Ah, the patio. Noel was quite comfortable here. A little breeze, a good view, and they were divvying up the food. About time! Noel plopped into a comfortably cheap feeling chair and poured herself a glass of cola. She chugged that and then poured a second before ever going for a plate.

> "So, how was that as a first taste of the daily duties of X-men?"

"Was that a daily duty?" Noel took her first bite and had to take a moment to appreciate it for all its glory. There was a time when eating out was troublesome. Getting the memories of whats he tasted... well, she'd learned to find the good things and only dwell on those.

Sunshine and mud. The meager spread of vegetables gave off better memories than the pork ever would.

"How do you get anything else done?" She pulled away from the memory to check her phone clock. Not including taco time, that was still a hefty chuck of daylight. "Or do you get an X stipend?" Wouldn't that just be a kick in the teeth? She did good stuff all the time and no one gave her an X-bonus.

When Noel looked down her first taco was gone. She was pretty good at inhaling food. Hmm. She licked her fingers and went for another. The bite from the spices was starting to hit, but it burned so good.

"Could be the difference between intention and intent on action. Just let me know if you find one that gives you the willies."

"I will, thanks."

"Was that a daily duty?... How do you get anything else done?... Or do you get an X stipend?"

Cafas used the question time to start eating. Taco one never stood a chance. Perhaps less gracefully than one would expect from a "rich" person (though probably exactly how old money thought of them). Meat grease ran down his chin. Before he could so much as react it had dripped onto his already ruined pants. With a shrug he finished his taco. No sense worrying over pants he'd probably need to chuck away, and it was hardly likely that this was the worst state Noel would see him in.

"Dailyish. We're on call 24/7, and we're not just focused in NYC. We manage to lead relatively normal lives around that for the most part. Some things don't require all of us either. We do tend to take it upon ourselves to help the the police whenever we can with crimes in progress though.

Taco two, the first bite was taken. Juices this time made it to his hand as well as chin. Seriously how did people eat these without making a mess?

"As for a stipend, room and board at the Mansion if we need it is about the limit of that. Nearly all our funds go to running the school." Also the jet's fuel and the Danger Room's electricity bill. Those things were nearly 10% on their own as far as Cafas could tell.

Maybe more.

Another bite. Chew chew chew. Swallow, wash down with gatorade.

"You guys should set up a rotation. Like nurses. Can't be healthy to be on call 24/7." Seriously. In New York, especially. Geez.

She did slow down halfway into her second taco. Noel wasn't an animal.

And now that higher level thinking was returning, Noel wondered how she ended up here. Besides the blood, they'd wanted to stay out of the public eye. The ol' rescue and disappear act. It was a tried and true hero thing apparently.

"If you want that shower, don't delay on my account." Noel smirked. In other words. "You stank." She, of course, as the guest did not stink in any way that mattered. But once the brunette finished her meal she did wipe her hands and pull her braid around so that she could pick out the dried bits of other people's DNA.