Dallas was done for the day, off to another tutee at an earlier time than usual. That left Jude waiting at the Full Circle. He wasn't allowed to walk home alone despite the fact that it wasn't more than a few blocks. That irked him, but he wasn't ready to push his new parent's buttons just yet. He would try to save that for his teens when it was a little more expected.

Waiting sucked. He was waiting to be picked up, waiting to grow up and now waiting in line at his own Ghost's bookstore's coffee line? No. He drew the line there.

Jude ducked under the barrister's bar and shuffled around for a mug. He flopped things up on top of the bar so that he could see behind them. The cups Ghost always used were in there somewhere.

Sugar shaker? No. Napkin holder? Why was that back here? Hand towel? No. That got tossed up onto the top of the bar which he could not see next to all the other items. On the coffee pot hot plate.

Sneaky. The kid was sneaky. As he saw to another customer's order, Aurum didn't even have to look to know what the kid was up to. Sneaking and trouble. Trouble... and making a mess. Aurum wrapped up the order, and turned to stare at Jude.

"Hey, Jude...." He chided softly. "Don't make things bad..."

He turned back to another customer, and finished their order quickly. One cup of black coffee, no sugar, cream, or any of that good stuff... that was easy.

He turned back to Jude again, and saw yet more mess piling up.

"What are you even looking for?" The lawyer asked. He arched an eyebrow. This kid was breaking all sorts of rules. And... wait. What smelled smoky? "You smell that...?" He sniffed around.

Aurum was one of Jude's number one competitors. He was really good looking and at an age when it was acceptable for people to think that. Jude envied him that and despite his charm, tried not to succumb to it.

>"Hey, Jude.... Don't make things bad..."

"Like I haven't heard that one before."

He fished around until he had put most everything from the lower shelf on top of the counter. Of course waaaay way in the back were the wedding mugs Ghost always used. She hadn't been by for tea in a while apparently.

The barrister asked what Jude was looking for and after wiping a stray spider from he cup he answered. "Coffee. Black. Like my soul." He set the mug next to Aurum's elbow. Jude would likely put sugar in it when Aurum wasn't looking, but he wanted to sound as grown up and mysterious as possible for now.

>"You smell that...?"

"No." Was the short answer. He went to work packing all the things back under the bar like a good little boy. Woo! That napkin holder was hot! He must have left it too close to the coffee. Jude's fingers closed on a cloth and he brought it down... and it was on fire. So he did what was instinctual to him. He threw it away from himself. And at Aurum. It suck to his back like Cailey stuck to the couch.

"Uhhh."

>>"Coffee. Black. Like my soul."

"Darker, and more bitter than Hell itself, hm?" Aurum teased, arching that eyebrow as his focus shifted to the customer in front of him. He helped them, and then, the inevitable came. His comment... and the smoky smell. What in the world was that? As the customer left, Aurum glanced around. Jude was packing things. Nothing suspicious about that (other than a potential mess, should Jude fail to put it all back right). Aurum turned away to smile at the next customer.

That's when it hit him (the flaming object).

"What can I get--"

"You're on fire!"

"Uh..."

Well, dang. He supposed he was. How did one react to being on fire? Aurum stopped. He didn't drop. His hands went to the nearest fire extinguisher, got it free, and turned it on himself.

He'd need new pants. He'd need a new shirt. There was now a severe mess here for Jude to help clean up. Jude was in trouble.

The fire was out, though. No severe burns. OW, though.

Aurum spun to glare at the boy. "You set me on fire!" He hissed quickly, under his breath. "Just wait until I tell Ghost."

Because it all had to be Jude's fault, right? He wasn't so hot he burst into flames?

Behind him, customers murmured. Was that man going to scream at the kid?

Maybe.

What part of "You're on fire!" made Aurum stop and say uhm, Jude wondered. Because he was already in action saving the day. He turned to the little sink, raised up onto his tippy toes and filled one of the old coffee pots with water. The liquid turned yellowish from the left over coffee, but Aurum wouldn't complain once Jude saved his life.

He turned around when he heard the extinguisher, but it was too late. His hand was already in motion.

>"You set me on fire! Just wait until I tell Gho—" There had been a moment when Jude could have stopped. Could have pulled back or away, but he didn't. He just finished out his motion and now the deed was already done. Jude's coffee pot full of water slapped Aurum in the face mid-word.

His little eyes got round as the realization of what he'd done hit him. He lit Aurum on fire and then he doused him in dirty water when he apparently no longer needed it. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!" The pot clattered back to the sink and a towel appeared in Jude's hands. He dabbed at Aurum's face as if he were fragile and about to snap. Well, at least he wasn't wholly covered in the powder from the extinguisher now.

Ghost was going to kill him if Aurum didn't first.

"..."

Three little dots conveyed a whole lot. Just to reiterate what had just happened (for the audience back home), Jude had just lit Aurum up like a candle, and doused his flames with murky yellow-brown java juice. He'd set him on fire, then covered him in a mix of fire extinguisher and coffee-water. Suffice it to say, Aurum was not pleased... he was not a monster, though, despite what Lonnie was trying to train him to be.

Aurum was silent... for a moment, glowering behind the dabbing like the girl from The Grudge. Then, he brought a hand up, to lower Jude's towelling. He spoke softly.

"Hey, Jude... what part of 'Don't make things bad' didn't you get?" Though he spoke the line softly, there was a hint of a growl.

He hated when grown ups talked softly. It was so much more ominous than when they yelled. Why didn't Aurum just yell at him? It would have been so much easier.

"It wasn't on purpose!" The kid hissed back. Just because things were bad didn't mean he'd done it just to spite Aurum. "You jinxed it, I sink."

He twisted his wrist out of Aurum's grip and tossed the towel at him so that he could dab himself. There was something he could do to help somewhere. Uhm. Run into the back and get Aurum a new shirt? "I'll be back!" He squirted out from behind the counter, apologized to the waiting customers and slipped into the back room.

There were promotional tee shirts in a box. He debated briefly between a large and a medium, but decided on a large. No need for any women to see his muscles and drool... on second thought, he grabbed an XL. Adults were big, right? The 11 year old trotted back with the fresh tee shirt that would keep the women from swooning at his competition.

Kids were so difficult. One reprimand and they ran. They wanted extra responsibilities, but they shirked them. They threw... towels.

He caught his. He watched Jude run off, with a sigh. If this was Jude being helpful, he'd have rathered the boy try less. He overdid things.

Aurum wasn't feeling sensitive or understanding. He was feeling hot. He realized it was his cheeks. It took a lot to make him blush. Cute girls couldn't do it. Embarrassment could not do it. He wasn't sure what did it... but when he did blush, it was a good color on him. Aurum busied himself with handling what Jude had missed, under the pressure of all the customer glares.

Ugh.

Jude returned with a t-shirt while Aurum was handling a customer. He was trying to pretend it hadn't happened. That t-shirt? It wouldn't help there.

"What does that even say...?" He trailed judgmentally, eying the tee.

"It says... ah. Never mind." He stuffed the shirt behind his back. Jude had unfurled it enough to realized that it was a What to Expect When You're Expecting promotional tee shirt. Aurum had no buns in his oven. It didn't really apply to him...

"You can wear your wet clothes all day, right?" Mhmm. Yep. Though... Aurum wasn't the only one blushing. The next girl in line was wholly red all the way up to her hairline when she ordered a mochachino with extra whip.

"No. I mean you can't! You will get sick and zhen your lawyer friends will get me. Non. You must wear it." He handed over the baby blue monstrosity. It was a matter of principle.

Ah, never mind? No, seriously. What Did It Say? Was it that bad?

Apparently, it was. And blue. Very blue. It was so bad and blue, Jude wanted him to stay in the clothes he was wearing, regardless of how unsanitary that was, or how it made him look. Aurum took that as a warning, like one should take bright colors on certain animals, such as frogs, snakes, or people. It was a warning to stay away. Not to touch. Danger!

If it was so dangerous, though, why was Jude suddenly all-too-keen on the idea of Aurum wearing it only seconds later? Aurum glanced down at the shirt he was wearing, and realized something. There was a reason certain people enjoyed wet t-shirts. They left little to the imagination. It was true for girls, and it was true for guys. It was clinging to him just a bit tighter than he wanted... not that there was anything unflattering about tight shirts on attractive men. It was more the opposite, really. Was that woman... drooling?

Was that man...?

Okay. Aurum stepped around the counter and snapped up the shirt from Jude's grip in one fluid motion. Around the shelves, and towards the back, he went.

"Take care of the counter while I'm out," He said. Aurum turned to shoot Jude a glare that meant 'don't test me'. He held up a pointing finger. "And DON'T sell anything. Just watch it to make sure nobody robs us. Ghost would be very upset." And so would he.

Aurum went into the back of the store to change.

So all he had to do was stand there? He could do that. He nodded so vigorously and so convincingly that his hair fell forward into his eyes.

Jude Coilin Csendes stood behind the counter (on his tippy toes). He smiled at the woman who had asked Aurum for some coffee and did not sell her anything. He did chat casually with her, though. About not-Aurum. She seemed to appreciate that. He could tell. Her cheeks calmed to a nice, calm pallor again.

"—have mutant in France too, you know. Ze Louvre has had attempts on some famous art. I hope ze don't get anything good, you know? I also herd zat ze Eiffel Tower was once turned polky-dotted. Can you imagine?"

The woman was nodding much in the same way that Jude had. Very, very convincingly. "I think I saw a photo of that..." She even contributed to the conversation, helpfully. Yes. Jude still had his charm. Even as a non-mutant, non-adult he could entertain the women.

The shirt Jude had given him was a bit embarrassing. As Aurum changed out of the apron and the dirtied white shirt, he took note. Very lame writing, not catchy, bad color. It was a good thing he had an apron to wear over it, covering most of the shame.

It didn't take long to change. A few minutes later, Aurum came back out again.

It looked liked Jude had kept his post safe. There weren't any more fires. The customers were all still there, including the blushing girl. Aurum walked up to stand next to Jude, ruffled his hair, and smiled at the woman. "Thanks for taking point, Jude. I'll handle the rest. Can I ring you up, Miss?"

The woman nodded bashfully.

Aurum slipped back behind the counter and handled things at the register. He rang her up, and gave her the receipt. She flipped it over and scribbled something on the back, pressing it across the counter, back to Aurum.

"Call me," she smiled, heading out the door. She turned to wave casually at the young French boy. "Bye, Jude." The door shut behind her. She was lost in the passing crowd.

He watched the exchange with full knowledge of what was happening. Aurum, wearing hideous blue and whiny and a jerk got the girl. But she knew his name. It was the customer and her smile that saved Aurum's foot from getting stamped on when he ruffled Jude's dark hair.

In the end. He was still 11. Jude grabbed his black coffee, shoulders slumped. "I hate you." And trudged toward a not yet fully explored aisle of books.