"<Mr. Jaager is nice, I did not have a home so he let me stay at his house. It is a very big house. I am very small and quiet so probably he does not even notice me. It is a good house.>"

It aligned with his secondary thoughts on what could be happening. But his gut feeling still applied. He wasn't going to be sure until he confronted Ambrose about it. He didn't know how much the boy was covering for the man. There was an odd pause so there was still a chance that the whole thing could be a lie.

"<I see, and Mr. Jaager takes good care of you? I've seen him get angry before, but I doubt he'd be mean to you.>" He had to be carefuller now. He had seen the man gouge the wall in anger, scare off his employees in a fit of rage. But Panu didn't look like he'd been harmed, didn't look like he had met the pointed ends of those claws. Looks could be deceiving though. The man could have threatened Panu, come near to harming him and restrained himself. Which meant it was only a matter of time before restraint wasn't enough.

Something told him Panu was no stranger to abuse. There were so many things wrong with that very idea that it made him sick to his stomach. He felt the very distinct need to set something on fire.

The next question was easier. He did not have to think much before answering, though he did frown a little. His wasn't quite sure he grasped the question.

"<I think I do not understand your words? Mean and angry are different in my language. If you have seen Mr. Jaager angry, then you know he is angry for reasons. I do not give reasons. So he is not angry with me. And never mean, mean is when people hurt for fun. It is not mean or angry if I give reason first, then it is just... correcting behavior?>"

His words were a little self-contradicting, but he hoped they reassured Victor. Jaager hadn't really been angry with Panu. The death threat and the claws were only because he had taken over the man's computer systems. Panu had given him a very good reason to be angry, but the man had seemed to find it funny, mostly. It barely counted as being angry at all. Besides, that had been a business meeting. Negotiating terms. Now that he belonged to Jaager, the man was very good to him.

The blonde boy rubbed at his forehead unconsciously. They had been very large claws, but they had not actually hurt him. So it was okay.

"<I think I do not understand your words? Mean and angry are different in my language. If you have seen Mr. Jaager angry, then you know he is angry for reasons. I do not give reasons. So he is not angry with me. And never mean, mean is when people hurt for fun. It is not mean or angry if I give reason first, then it is just... correcting behavior?>"

He could give several reasons why mean and angry have interconnecting history. That anger could lead someone to be mean or cruel. That being mean isn't just hurting for fun. Though he had to question where Panu came to that conclusion. But all that internal reasoning fell away when the boy mentioned correcting behavior.

Punishment was not uncommon and not neglect all on it's own. He knew time outs and bedroom confinement and taking away cellphones and game consoles. The occasional light tap or restraining hug wasn't bad either. But the way Panu said it felt like there was more going on. The ache in his gut burned into a low fire and he knew Panu could probably see it on his face now.

"<How does Mr.Jaager correct your behavior Panu?>" He was thankfully able to keep the growl out of his voice, keep it friendly and his hand relaxed. But it didn't stop the warmth from growing, nor his teeth from barring more than they should.

Victor felt very warm. Very very warm. Before he had been just a little warm, and nice to lean against. Now he was like summer concrete. Panu could not see his face well, he had no eyes pointed the right way. Terrier was seeing mostly arms and blankets, and the building cameras only saw the man at the very edge of their frame. This had been okay when Victor's arms were like a cave and everything bad and loud was outside. Now the other mutant's arms were like an oven, confining and hot, and he did not know if it was okay to move out of them or if that would make the man angry.

Victor seemed angry. Panu did not know why, he did not think he had given the man a reason, he was usually better then this at not saying bad things.

The Finnish boy pulled his focus away from the cameras inside the building. It was very important to see outside. To see the street and everyone on it and where he stood next to them. Victor was not someone he had to stay with, not like Jaager was and Tuonela had been, so it would be okay if he ran away. If he had to.

He did not know what he had done that was wrong.

Maybe nothing? Maybe the man was still recovering, and this was normal temperature for him, and he was not upset at all?

"<You are getting warm,>" the boy said softly. "<Is it okay if I come out from under your arm?>"

Asking was good and bad. If it was not on purpose, then asking did not hurt anything, and he could step out and everything would be okay still. This was the same reason he did not try pushing his way out. Pushing almost always made things worse. But if Victor was angry with him, asking might make it harder to run because now the man knew he wanted to.

Panu had seen both Jaager and Victor angry. Jaager still talked and was pleasant, he just smiled more (and a little scarier). Victor burned everything down.

He did not answer the man's question. He did not want Victor to burn things again.

With all his angry thoughts he hadn't realized Panu's discomfort until the soft voice spoke up.

"<You are getting warm, is it okay if I come out from under your arm?>"

He lifted his arm quickly, letting steam out of his mouth at the same time to release some of the heat. "<Sorry, I didn't realize.>" He needed to watch his temper before he accidentally hurt someone. All this talking with Panu was having his brain run around in circles. Unproductive, biased circles. Panu was smart but maybe he wasn't speaking as clearly as he seemed.

He needed to wait till he talked to Ambrose before he jumped to conclusions. Maybe talk to his aunt, see what she had to say. As a nurse, the older woman had worked with her fair share of kids and probably could tell him if he was jumping to conclusions.

Or maybe he could talk to the secretary, see what she knew. Though some how, he was getting the feeling that Panu was supposed to be a secret. And therefore not something to share with secretary. Or at least not share with a secretary that would share that information with him.

Speaking of which, "<Did the secretary say when someone with clothes would arrive?>"

Panu was glad that he had asked. The big mutant had not meant to trap him in a slowly heating oven of arms, and he was sorry for it (or he was pretending he was, sometimes adults did that) (or he was losing control and about to light all the things on fire again, sometimes Victor did that.) But in any case the Finnish boy stood a few feet away, now. Far enough that Terrier's eye could watch the bigger mutant's body language. Also his face, but bodies were easier to read than faces.

"<She did not say.>" This was a very good question. "<I will call her back.>"

Again, his phone was already ringing before he took it out of his hoodie pocket.

This time, the secretary recognized him. Her voice was pleasant in a way where all her syllables were escaping past many teeth. "Panu. What can I do for you this time?"

"<When will clothes be here?>" He did not realize his translator was still set to Spanish output until the secretary's long pause. He switched modes, and tried again. "When will clothes be here?"

"Do you know how long it takes to tailor a custom shirt for a four-armed man?"

This was probably rhetorical, but it was also an easy search (he left off 'four-armed man' from the criteria, that was definitely rhetorical). "Most by mail orders are three weeks, in person is two days--" Panu stopped talking now because it was not rhetorical, it was impossible.

"The car should be pulling up now." The self-satisfaction in the secretary's voice transcended language.

Panu searched with his eyes, and found a sleek black car nosing its way through the milling employees, towards the curb. Probably towards Victor. The bigger mutant made for a good sign post.

"You are a very good secretary," the Fin said.

Her reply was still with many teeth, but there was a purr behind it all. "I have my uses."

Again, she hung up on him. Panu did not mind. He raised an arm, pointing to a car that would have been very hard for a boy his height to actually see in this crowd. "<Our clothes are there.>"

The ease with which the boy called the secretary made him wonder again. It seemed like the moment the phone was against his ear, he was already talking. And now that he was thinking about it, the little helicopter had been flying around with no visible controller. Maybe the boy was some sort of tech mutant. Wouldn't be that far off, given the mutant was probably one of the easiest to profit from.

Again he worried Ambrose wasn't being a good influence on the boy or there was some form of abuse going on. But for now all he could do was push the thought back and wait for when he could talk to the man in person. He didn't need another flare up to scare Panu.

He listened curiously and wondered if he should step in, tell the secretary not to worry about the top half of him. Honestly it was still warm enough that he could get by shirtless. It wasn't like he was going to go anywhere after this. He's just go home and hope that his little closet of clothing would last him till he could get replacements.

But before he could suggest it Panu was already hanging up after giving the secretary a complement. "<Our clothes are there.>" He looked up and saw the car slowly coming there way, herding the employees out of the way.

"<Oh, so it is. That was fast. Here, take my hand.>" He offered his hand to Panu so they could meet the black car together. Plus he didn't want to loose sight of the kid just yet.

The blonde boy hesitated a moment before slipping his own small hand into Victor's. It was still very warm to the touch, but less so than before. Like holding a pizza box that had just be delivered. A little too warm but mostly okay. The big mutant seemed back in control of himself. He was not scary when he was in control.

The car waited at the curb. When they got closer, the passenger's side window rolled down, and the person inside leaned out to speak with them. Panu did not have any good camera angles without making it obvious that he was looking through Terrier, so he could not tell what the man looked like, but he sounded young and cheerful.

"Clothes are in the back, help yourself. The more you take the better my commission. Ms. Brass just said to put it on Mr. Jaager's tab. Let me know if you need any adjustments, it'll only take me a sec. I just threw together some generic stuff on the way over, but any friend of Mr. Jaager's will want something a little more fitted, right? Sorry my dad couldn't come himself, but this was really short notice, he's with another client, if he knew Mr. Jaager would need him he'd have cleared out his schedule of course--"

Panu's translator was having trouble keeping up, which meant the man was probably babbling. He kept the audio on but stopped trying to translate. Instead he opened up the rear passenger door. The back of the car was full of two things: newly made clothing, most of it far more appropriate for a business setting than what either of them had been wearing, and bolts of spare fabric. Everything had the look of being thrown in the car about a minute after he'd first called Madeline, and it hadn't been put in any order since. Panu set Terrier on his shoulder, and started rooting through the pile for things his size.

With Terrier positioned higher, he could now see the speaker: a well-dressed Italian teen. There seemed to be something wrong with his skin, but it was hard to tell through the camera. It was almost like Panu could not quite tell where the fabric of his green dress shirt ended and his real skin began. The textures blended together, skin and cotton, with no defining edge. Even as he spoke with them his hands were fidgeting with a few scraps of fabric, which were sewing themselves together into the sleeve of another shirt wherever his fingertips passed. The driver, an African man with a Jaager Worldwide employee badge clipped on his black suit, had the grim look of a man who'd been having his ear talked off for the last quarter hour. He faced forward, and tapped his fingers on the wheel.

He chuckled at the young man's rambling, a mutant who looked like someone ran headfirst into a craft fabric shop. Not in a bad sense either, it was rather cool looking to be honest. And looking at the selection of clothing in the back it was clear the young man knew his way around a sewing machine. Or perhaps he was the sewing machine.

"Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. We really appreciate it." He tried to keep his smile toothless. Looking at all the clothes it looked like several of them would fit just fine. So he grabbed a pair of suit pant first and pulled them on under the blanket tied around his waist. It fit fine, if only a little snugly around the tail area.

"Did you make all of these? They're great!" He was tempted to take way more than he actually needed. It wasn't often he'd get clothes that would fit him so well. Especially not tailor made suits. But given that it was all on Ambrose's bill he didn't want to anger the man on accident.

Thankfully the doors of the van's back covered them enough that nobody really saw the quick pull on. He glanced down at Panu. "How would you like to get dressed? You could probably change in the van or we can see if we can use the inside bathroom?" He didn't want to expose a child or anything but changing in tricky situations like this always proved a challenge.

The tailor preened under Victor's compliments. If he was put off by the other mutant's appearance, he didn't show it--in fact, his eyes were flitting over the man's arms and horns like they were taking measurements. The only real reaction the Italian gave was when Victor turned to grab clothes. He startled in his seat.

"You have a tail! No one told me you had a tail, the measurements are going to be all off! You are not walking off without me modifying those, the Sarto family name would never live down the shame of an ill-fit customer." The teen hopped out of the car, and busied himself with fussing over the much larger mutant. "Do you like to tuck it, or flaunt it? We could let out the fabric a bit, or lower the waist line, or--"

Panu wasn't listening to the tailor, but he flipped his translator back on when Victor spoke to him.

"Here is okay," the boy said. His hoodie was so long, it covered him nearly to his knees, anyway. He wiggled out of his soggy jeans, and pulled on a pair of dark gray child-sized slacks. The fabric was soft and loose. After a moment more of digging, he found a blue shirt his size. His hoodie and T-shirt were also shucked, and careful fingers buttoned up the shirt. It fit well, which was the problem.

He felt... very light now. Too light. After a moment of frowning, he put back on his hoodie. It was only a little wet. And besides, his phone and the little helicopter's remote wouldn't fit in the pockets of his new pants.

"You have a tail! No one told me you had a tail, the measurements are going to be all off! You are not walking off without me modifying those, the Sarto family name would never live down the shame of an ill-fit customer."

Victor would have told the younger mutant it was fine but all too soon the tailor was fussing over him. It took him a moment to catch up with his babbling.

 "Do you like to tuck it, or flaunt it? We could let out the fabric a bit, or lower the waist line, or--"

"Tranquilo, easy, no need to rush. Now, I can't tuck it in, it's a rather thick and inflexible tail. I'd prefer to let out the fabric or make a hole for it. I've found that lower waist lines tend to make the front uncomfortable. Do you think you can work with that?" He tried to keep his voice easy going and calm for the talkative teen. Obviously the poor guy was under a lot of pressure to succeed.

In talking with the teen tailor he kind of forgot about Panu for a moment. So he didn't notice the kid changing. Thankfully the too bigger bodies covered the child just fine and nobody else noticed either. By the time he did notice the boy was pulling on his still wet hoodie. "Panu, isn't that still too wet to wear?"

"Do you like the cut otherwise? Waistline's in the right place?" The tailor continued to fuss, poking and pulling at seams here and there. "We'd need to raise the waistline to put in a hole. Either that or work in a sort of strap over the tail, but it ruins the flow of the fabric, and some customers complain of chaffing. We'll try just letting it out for now. The fit doesn't work, you bring it back in, we'll fix it for you. No charge, all Sarto clothing is guaranteed, of course."

The teen reached into one of his own pockets and fished around, while his other hand plucked at the rear seam on Victor's pants. The one hand came back with a business card.

Sarto & Sarto
Gentlemens' Haberdashery & Ladies' Boutique
By Appointment Only

In no more time than it had taken Sarto Jr to fish out the card, his work in the back was complete. If Victor had turned his neck to watch, he'd have seen the seam re-stitching itself as it passed between the Italian's fingers.

"How does that feel? Too loose, too tight? I let it out a quarter inch, but we could do more or less, no problem."

Panu tucked his shoulders under Victor's scrutiny. Caught by an adult. Fine, then. He wiggled back out of the still (rather soggy) hoodie. For another moment he stood in grey pants and blue shirt, looking very much like the flower boy for someone's wedding. Then he succeeded in digging a suit coat out of the pile of clothing. It was a darker gray than his pants, and clearly made for Victor: when he put it on, it went past his knees, and an extra set of arms flopped at his sides. Sarto Jr made a small noise of strangled horror.

"I like big clothes," the blonde boy said defensively. "They cover more. And they are heavy. It is a good weight."

He took the card and glanced it over. Flipping it to the other side he saw a number and other contact information. Good, he was sure he would contact them in the near future for better fitted clothes. He was sure they could work miracles with what he already had. "Do you guys do just suits or is it possible to get some of my everyday clothes fixed up?" He glanced back and watched the young man work, grinning at the talent.

"How does that feel? Too loose, too tight? I let it out a quarter inch, but we could do more or less, no problem."

"Mmm, a little bit too tight I think." He murmured before looking back at Panu and chuckling at the little one's fix for the situation. Yes that jacket was far too big for him, even more so than the hoodie. The young tailor's gasp of horror made this even funnier.

"I like big clothes. They cover more. And they are heavy. It is a good weight."

Obviously the young man had never worked with picky children. Thankfully he was sure he could think of a solution.

"Here, let me dry off your hoodie and then you can wear it." He took the soggy piece of clothing, removing whatever was in the pockets before wringing out what extra water he could. Then folded it, pressed it against his body, and brought up his temperature. He had done this with blankets before when they didn't dry all the way. It took a few minuets but well worth it to keep the tailor from having a heart attack.

He checked it a few times before handing the hoodie back. "There, how's that? Much better right?"

"We work with clothing at every level of decorum." The teen replied, his fingers restitching the back seam in another pass. "How does that feel? I let out another eighth of an inch."

Panu picked up Terrier again so he could watch very very carefully that Victor did not light his hoodie on fire. It was a Finnish hoodie. It did not have any decorations or symbols or advertising for sports teams, and probably it was the same as any hoodie he could get here, but it was still better because it was Finnish. Everything the other mutant did paused the boy's scrutiny. Victor carefully emptied the pocket (of phone and helicopter remote and three portable battery rechargers and one USB charger with a wall adapter plugged on). Panu fidgeted a bit when those big hands wrung out the cloth, but the man was careful. And then he folded things very carefully, which let the boy relax again.

When his hoodie was returned, the cloth was that hot-warm of laundry fresh from the drier. Panu hugged it to his chest a moment (warm hoodies were good huggers). Then he took off the over-large suit coat, carefully handed it off to the four-armed man it had been made for, and wiggled inside the wonderful folds of his amazing warm dry Finnish hoodie.

(Sarto Jr ran a stressed hand through his hair, but did not say anything about the drowning effect the hoodie had on the boy.)

"This is very very good." The blonde boy let out a happy sigh. He did not even bother putting his arms through the arm holes, he just kept them tucked to his chest, that was how comfortable it was. "When is your next test, Mr. Victor? I like you. I will make sure you are safe next time, too."

He should probably go home soon. Things were not as fun now that the fire police were here, and everyone was around and some of them were watching the little boy and the large mutant. But he would come back. Victor needed someone to watch out for him. (And also his dogs would need walking.)