It was a mystery to Jack how she had ended-up chaperoning this damn excursion. She thought security meant making sure that the grounds of the school were secure, that the students were safe on-campus. Yet, here she was on a small school-bus full of mutant kids, awkwardly wedged sideways in the front seat. Apparently the school was big on community service, for the usual reasons that schools were big on that kind of thing. Even the little ones could participate in "Creek Week" events where they helped pick-up trash along rivers and creeks, or in the park.

Today, Jack was accompanying the junior high or high school students, en route to a church. The church, St. John's, was situated amid the hustle and bustle of downtown. A stone monolith, untouched by time, that used it's sway and large congregation to fund numerous outreach programs. This included providing meals to some of the local homeless population on certain days of the week. Saint John's had extended an invitation to some of the students of Xavier's, seeking help with preparing and serving the meal.

Jack had been volunteered to help accompany the students on the bus ride there. Of course, she wasn't alone. With this many kids there was at least one more chaperone. But heavens knew why the administration sat down and said to themselves, "You know what's better than sending teachers with our kids? A glorified hall monitor. That makes sense!"

The bus came to a halt, and Jack rose quickly, wriggling her way out of the seat.

"Chief, aren't you excited?" a girl with eyes like galaxies exclaimed, "You get to spend so much time with us!"

"It'll 'e cool," Jack agreed, smiling.

"Alright, everyone!" the other chaperone announced, "Best behavior! The pastor was nice enough to welcome us into his church and let us help out today. So let's show him how great Xavier's can be, okay? And no cell phones!"

There was only a tiny groan. "Gather outside and await further directions."

Jack was the first off of the bus. Wow. The church really was big. The prawn tilted her head back, eyes peering toward the spire above. As the other chaperone approached, Jack asked, "Do dey eat in duh church?"

"Naw, there's a whole other wing of rooms... some classrooms, offices, a fellowship hall, and a gymnasium. They serve lunch in the gym. We just gotta go 'round thee back."

"Alright, follow me, students," the other chaperone instructed, "Ms. Dyer, bring-up the rear, make sure there are no stragglers."

The gaggle of students, trailing behind the chaperone up, were full of bubbly conversation and laughter. Assisting at the church was routine, for them, thus wasn't so daunting. Jack, however, was glad to be at the rear. She hadn't set foot near a church since... well, pre-mutation days. It twisted her stomach in knots, and they weren't even going into the proper church.

Jack ducked in through a low doorway, surveying the enormous room that lay before them. It was practically a gymnasium, perhaps bigger, filled with foldable plastic tables and chairs. If you followed your ears towards the clamor on the opposite side of the room, you found the kitchen. There were some people present, but the meal hadn't yet started. The volunteers still needed to finish preparing the meal before it began.

Joseph sighed as he put the last of the chairs in place next to one of the tables. The shadows round his eyes betrayed his slowness. It had been an early morning, the alarm blaring in his head at around 7am. Everything had to be ready, and he'd signed up to do so. All hands were on deck, several students from the local university were already clamoring in the Kitchen. The student worker, Ruth, was already passive aggressively giving everyone their roles, and running about the place. Some of the "diners" had already arrived, looking glad to be close to having their first hot meal in a while. This only seemed to rush her more. Help was on its way at least.

Trinity-Calvin Church had moved up in the world, moving into St John's Church (an underused Anglican building) after much deliberating. Presbyteries could take ages to do the simplest of things, goodness they needed to move out of the School eventually! This meant "good works", as Pastor Richardson put it, were far easier to do though.

Pastor Richardson was currently telling his younger son not to climb on to the tables while Phoebe was busy comforting their daughter who had just bumped into a table edge. Linely went up to the minister, carefully avoiding bumping in to the red-haired child that had run towards the air behind him at a break-neck pace. At least he was learning not to go too fast whilst in doors.

"The students are coming soon I take it? Ruth looks like she needs as much help as she can get." said Joseph, wondering what to expect. Mark had always been really mutant friendly (he always seemed to understand the shame that came with it sometimes...regardless of the situation) even before it was fashionable, and true to form had sent his older son to Xavier's. "Will we be seeing Benjamin today do you think?" Linely was tentative after seeing the Pastor's face at the mention of this name.

"I don't think so Joseph, but I hope one day-"

In came a rush of students, Secondary aged as specified, accompanied by two Chaperones...wait was that who he thought it was coming through the door? Joseph would have recognised the anthropomorphic mantis shrimp anywhere. It was Chief! How on earth had Xavier's persuaded her to do this job? Pastor Richardson quickly walked up to the Chaperones to shake hands and give his thanks, tailed by Joseph and Ruth, the former of which couldn't help but smile at seeing his old friend.

"You must be Jack." The pastor said, putting out his hand to the shrimp lady "  Pastor Dr. Mark Richardson. A pleasure to meet you." He appeared completely unphased by Chief's mutation, which even surprised the detective. Even some of the MRC mutants normally had trouble with such an intimidating mutation.

The pastor was quick to close-in on the Xavier's cohort. He shook the first chaperone's hand, greeted the kids, then made his way to Jack, not skipping a beat. The pastor proffered a hand, smiling warmly at her.

Jack returned the smile, though noticeably taken aback by his forwardness. She gingerly took his hand in hers, shaking it gently. Given the immensity of her hands, handshakes were no very common.

>> "You must be Jack. Pastor Dr. Mark Richardson. A pleasure to meet you."

"Jacquelyn Dyer," she confirmed, "Nice to neet you."

The pastor segued into a brief exchange of small-talk, which Jack answered with polite, brief responses. Chruches set her on-edge, given the frequent association of radical anti-mutant individuals with religious zealotry. But Pastor Richardson seemed like a nice enough man.

"Is dere any-sing I can hel' 'iss?" Jack asked him, looking for an out, "I an good sore hea'y listing and such..."

"Nothing comes to mind, immediately, but I'll be certain to let the other volunteers know!" the pastor said smilingly. The kids were split into groups, some sent towards the kitchen while others remained in the dining room. Jack stepped towards the periphery and leaned against the wall, keeping a steady eye on the kids in front of her.

As her eyes scanned the room, she spotted a familiar face. Officer Linley. What was he doing here? She supposed that cops, too, could go to church.

Jack raised a hand hesitantly in a half-hearted wave, acknowledging that she saw him. The tables were clumped together rather closely, and he was on the other side of the room, so closing the distance wouldn't be so simple for the prawn.

Upon seeing Chief wave to him, he waved back, and closed the distance between the two. The students at Xavier's had already been put to work in the Kitchen or on the serving tables. More of the customers had arrived, but he was able to slip past the closely-packed tables to greet Chief.

"Hello Chief, how did Xavier's manage to talk you into this one then?" Linely greeted her, smiling. "Ruth certainly appreciates the help the school is giving us." He nodded at the lady rushing from side to side of the Church, trying to micromanage everything in a passive aggressive sort of way.

Some of the students were giggling and chatting amongst themselves in between tasks, and Joseph happily noticed that the Xavier's kids were interacting with the University students, some of whom had rather obvious mutations. It would certainly help the students to be used to seeing others outside of the school who were able to accept themselves.

A quick hush came upon the scene as Pastor Richardson started talking. "Thank you all for coming, I will now thank God for his provision to us, and then we can get to the service."

Linely and the Church goers bowed their heads in prayer, more than a few of the Xavier's students did the same. Others did not. All were politely silent, perhaps with the odd snigger from a student. "Father God, Thank you for this food and for the fellowship of people gathered here today, we would ask that you bless our humble meal and service to you and bless our conversations today. In Jesus' name, Amen."

"Amen" Joseph echoed the pastor. "Time to get serving." He said to Chief. "Feel free to walk around and have a talk to people. Or follow me and help with the service, there'll be something you can do I'm sure."

>> "Hello Chief, how did Xavier's manage to talk you into this one then?"

"Linley," Jack returned the greeting politely. The prawn pressed her back to the wall, "All duh sta-ss has to do ser'ive hours... cha'erone or 'orking dances or e'ents... just lucky I guess..."

Lucky as a self-proclaimed atheist to have to suffer through a church outreach event. The prawn breathed a sigh.

>> "Ruth certainly appreciates the help the school is giving us."

Jack's gaze followed the officer's nod. The "Ruth" in question was a rather rotund lady with short, grey curls crowning her head. Despite her apparent agedness, she moved quickly about the dining room, redirecting students and shepherding people who were filtering in with uncharacteristic energy.

"I'll stay outta her 'ay," the prawn murmured. Ruth seemed like a lady on a mission. Jack was certain that if they crossed paths, she'd certainly be volunteered for something... the pastor drew everyone's attention, calling the churchgoers to prayer. Jack awkwardly clasped one hand over the other, but her eyes remained open during the prayer, skirting the room and roving over the students. She mentally ran a headcount, since everyone was in the same place.

Jack endured the prayer and, since it was over, Linley turned ot her, inviting Jack to either trail him or talk to attendees. Maxillae curled at the idea of small-talk with strangers. Not that Linley was much better, but at least he was somewhat familiar.

"Su'ose I could nake ny-sels use-sul," Jack admonished. There had to be something for a prawn to do that didn't entail weaving through tables or making chitchat with people. She trailed behind Linley, hunching to a unobtrusive six-ish feet tall.

"Do you go here?" Jack asked the officer.

Chief didn't really want to be there. That was very clear, poor lady. Some people just didn't like Church, and particularly in the mutant community, there were those that had done wrong. The Church of Humanity had done untold damage with their nonsense about nephalim and the corrupt spirits in Genesis having a resurgence. It took a few brave mutant theologians to properly refute their (poorly argued) theology. Though there was always the possibility that it was a different, deeper reason for anyone.

Linely watched as Ruth practically bounced around the hall,after the prayer, ushering the students inside the kitchen and various representatives of the Church onto various tables. She did a good job, which wasn't particularly easy either, Linely thought it wouldn't be hard to say thank you once in a while.

Linely smiled at Chief's willingness to help, even though she was clearly a shrimp out of water so to speak. "Well, I'm on ladle duty, and the flasks" he pointed to the very large cylindrical objects that were currently being filled with hot soup "are pretty heavy, so having someone go back and forth when the students need help will be useful."

He couldn't help being slightly amused at Chief's next question, "I've gone here for pretty much my entire time in NYC, even before I was a cop. But we haven't always been in this building. They've helped me through some tough times, particularly Mark." He paused slightly. It brought back bad memories to think of those times, even in more distracting situations. He came back to the moment as quickly as it came "We're a Bible Believing, Christ Centered, Church Family. That's the motto."

They had reached the table, one of the large flasks had been successfully moved to the serving table, if haphazardly done. There were still two more to lift and bring to the place, and the group of young men that Ruth had put to the task were looking tired. "Think it's your time to shine Chief...." Linely said, encouragingly. She was going to get to do some heavy lifting after all.

>> "Well, I'm on ladle duty, and the flasks are pretty heavy, so having someone go back and forth when the students need help will be useful."

Jack followed Linley's gesture towards the flasks in-question. She could probably manage those with a couple of decent pot-holders, lest her massive hands didn't fit in the handles.

"Sink I could handle dat," Jack remarked simply. She worked construction in her younger years, so she was accustomed to having to do some heavy-lifting.

>> "I've gone here for pretty much my entire time in NYC, even before I was a cop. But we haven't always been in this building. They've helped me through some tough times, particularly Mark. We're a Bible Believing, Christ Centered, Church Family. That's the motto."

The prawn nodded politely, giving a mild "hm" or "mhmm" at the approrpiate times. She mostly loomed behind Linley as they crossed towards the flasks.

>> "Think it's your time to shine Chief...."

"Okay," Jack acknowledged. She tread towards the table, clearing her throat as she approached. Ruth had put two burly looking fellows on the flasks, one of whom was an Xavier's kid. They looked up when Jack cleared her throat.

"Ah, hey Jack!" the Xavier's kid greeted, "Did you get recruited, too?"

Jack shrugged, "'ere deez t'ings at? I can hel' you carry den out."

"Back in the kitchen," the kid said, cheerfully. Probably relieved that they had another helping hand. Jack expertly made her way past clumps of attendees, ducking into kitchen. The kitchen staff glanced towards her inquiringly.

"Here to hel'," Jack greeted, "Carry duh..." the prawn pointed at the large flasks of soup.

"There are potholders on the counter if you need them!"

They were all too cheerful. The prawn carefully sauntered towards one of the flasks, testing the heat of it by patting her hands against the sides. It would be doable, to carry it without potholders, Jack tucked her thumbs through the handles and curled her hands around the edges. With unexpected ease, the prawn lifted the flask and lumbered back out through the door, making her way back towards the serving table.

Chief seemed thoroughly uninterested in his spiel about the Church, but at least she was trying to be polite. She was probably an atheist by Joseph's reckoning, but it wasn't for him to try and make windows into a shrimp's soul. At least she was willing to help out with serving the soup, particularly as the kids seemed to be struggling a little with the weight.

Linely watched as she near expertly picked up one of the flasks from the Kitchen as the first flask was brought by the two older teenagers. At least the kids seemed to be enjoying themselves, the Church did try to be as welcoming as possible, even though they weren't that much in the way of a happy-clappy Church.

The first of the homeless customers began to line up at the table. A few were your obvious visible homeless, poorly cared for clothing, though it would be just about thick enough in the winter, with bodies too match. You could tell they weren't used to having a decent meal unless it came from places like the Church.

Most of the others were different to that , though. You wouldn't know that they were in need of help from a soup kitchen unless they were here. One young lady, about 17 years old, tentatively approached the table. As she walked closer, Joseph could sense the pain on her body, even as she hid the bruise on her arm hurriedly, as her somewhat ill-fitting sweater required adjusting. A look to Naomi, the resident counsellor of the Church, let her know that she was probably needed. These cases were the worst, and often needed both the law and the council to get involved.

"Would you like meat or vegatarian?" He asked the young lady, who nearly flinched at the idea of being asked even the simplest of questions.
"Meat. Please." She half mumbled. Joseph could only hope that Naomi, a slightly-younger-than-middle aged woman, with a generally pleasant demeanor could help her open up. The counselor promptly introduced herself and led her to the table. Joseph could sense that whoever gave her that bruise was likely not far behind. He'd seen enough cases of that in the police to KNOW that they were never that far behind.

As the young lady was led away, Chief was just coming back with the next giant flask of soup. "Just place it next to the first one." He chirpily said to the shrimp-lady, as the doors swung open with a large crash, making everyone look up.

The prawn watched the slowly-gathering crowd, a quiet chirr roiling in her throat. She saw herself in the unkempt faces and ragged clothes. She’d lived on the streets for a few years of her youth, and only got off of the streets by virtue of the fact that a San Francisco-based mutant school had taken her in and rehabilitated her. She didn’t feel the same sort of kinship with the older folks as she did with the young ones. Jack made her way back towards the kitchen, retrieved the next flask, and sauntered back out. The prawn cut through the gathering crowd, many of the patrons giving her wide berth. It came with the stature. She was at the table in no time.

>> "Just place it next to the first one."

Jack chirped affirmatively, carefully setting the pot onto the table. The slamming of the doors drew the prawn’s attention, and the prawn gave an alarmed whistle. She assumed it was the wind, until a churlish and grizzled-looking man stormed in through the door. The prawn’s shoulders stiffened, and her mandibles tightened. Though outside of bouncing she tried to avoid conflict, this situation was unique. She was responsible for a number of the volunteers here—her students. Her kids. And her intuition was throwing some pretty strong signals. In her line of business, those signals weren’t

A low growl rumbled in the prawn’s throat, and her eyes cut towards Linley. Could you get in trouble with the law when a cop wasn’t on-duty?

“Getting horri’le seelings a’out dat guy,” the prawn murmured, “’at’chu sink his ‘ro’lem is?”