(Continued from Jogging in the Park )

After leaving the kid in park, Jorge had climbed back into his car and driven back to his apartment building. He had a successful jog and hopefully was able to talk at least a little bit of sense into the pickpocket he had met in the park. Then again, what really were the odds of that? He had just met the kid and when someone is as stubborn as he appeared to be, it would be difficult to get through to him. Still, as the detective pulled his car into the parking lot, he had to hoped that at least something good would come out of it.

Ignition off, Jorge climbed out of the car in his sweaty workout clothes and entered his apartment building. The whole way up, he mentally ran over the things he had to do today. As he entered his apartment, the whole room echoed with the sound of a buzzsaw-like snoring that could wake the dead. He could only shake his head as he wandered into the room, following the sound until he found the source in the hallway between his bedroom and the living room. Lizzie, his Old English Bulldog lay flat across her dog blanket, sleeping soundly and snoring with a sound that few men have survived to hear.

He had to smirk as he knelt down and gently patted his dog between her ears and walked back into the living room. He held up the kid’s skull cap and sighed a bit thoughtfully. It was something that he should not have done, but then again, he was sure the kid had taken whatever money was in that wallet before he handed it over.

“Fair is fair,” he muttered to himself as he tossed the cap on the window sill of headed off towards his kitchen. He pulled open the fridge and took a cool bottle of water from the door.

As he greedily drank from the bottle, Jorge sighed as he headed over to his bathroom, along the way he pulled off his tank top. It was then that his very flesh showed the dangerous history of his work. He had various types of small scratches and scars but there were more prominent ones on his body. On his right shoulder there was what looked like an old gunshot wound. The scar was clear as it revealed that bullet that entered clean through his flesh and exited. The doctor had told him he was lucky that it had not severed any arteries. Lastly there were two knife wounds that looked as if the blade which had cut him was sizeable. One lay across his stomach while the other looked more like a stab wound not far under his armpit. Again, those were other wounds he was lucky to have survived from.

After he finished the water, Jorge sighed as he continued to the bathroom in order to shower and continue his day, putting the thoughts of the winged boy he met in the park in the back of his mind.

Revenge, it was something best served cold, what ever that meant but when he eyed the large officer walking through his apartment to the fridge and removing a cold drink of water he couldn’t help but lick his lips. He was for the most part parched as well, and while he might have not done as much work as the sweat-covered cop had done he had done quite a bit of flying added to his previous escapades of the day.

Shifting his attention and flapping his wings he rose himself from the window he was looking through and waited for a moment before he pocked his head back to the window where his hat was now visible. He frowned at the hat that was his and then back to Jorge, the one who hat nabbed it. ‘Must be showering’ thought Carrick as he watched the man remove his shirt; revealing scars and imperfections of the flesh that he was sure had several stories for each.

Not knowing how long it took to trail the cop, nor how he got so lucky to just fly upwards when the officer entered the building and find him enter his room. It must have been destiny for Carrick to teach this officer a lesson. Once Jorge vanished from view Carrick placed his hands on the outside of the windowsill, if he was lucky and if the officer was stupid enough to leave his window open. Landing on the third floor fire escape Carrick touched down quietly and approached the window.

Lifting with his legs and digging his fingers into the side of the window he attempted to shake it up in hopes the widow would just open. A large grin touched Carrick’s lips as the window slid open for the most part quietly there was a short bang at the end when it was lifted all the way but he didn’t think anyone could hear it. Wings folded behind him Carrick poked his head in and looked around with a sigh, most of the good stuff was dated and old and… was that a VCR?

Trying to refrain from laughing Carrick spotted his hat and reached for it with a satisfied look on his face. Bending over and picking it up from the sill Carrick placed it on his head and then looked to the fridge there was water in there and the more he looked at the fridge he became hungry. His stomach growled and then he touched down in the officer’s apartment.

Tiptoeing to the fridge he heard a loud rumble of a snore and he found the culprit it was a dog, a rather large bulldog one he didn’t pay much mind to. Not only did he get along and even like dogs but they usually liked him as well, despite him being part cat. The sound of running water could be heard as he continued to tiptoe across the floor to the fridge.

Once there he opened the door and spotted a loaf of bread some lunchmeat and a few bottles of water. Grinning Carrick already managed to hatch his idea of revenge. Removing the food and water Carrick hopped up onto the counter and started eating a few pieces of lunch meat and a slice of bread still going through a few details in his over all revenge plot.

Detective Cervantes gave off a satisfied sigh as he stood under the running shower that pelted him with an endless barrage of water. With the ability to manipulate and find water anywhere close by, it was of no surprise that this man felt something close to euphoria whenever he was actually submerged with it. It was almost as if the water rejuvenated his spirits and just all around made him feel better. He was not sure if that was part of his mutation or if he merely over exaggerated how much he loved the water but it was nevertheless, Jorge was definitely feeling better after his long workout this morning.

Still his thoughts drifted back to his time in the park and the curious, winged boy that he had just met. Part of him still felt bad, especially since the boy reminded him of his old informant in Miami named Cobb, but at the same time, in their brief meeting, he knew the kid was tough. He did not need the new detective from Florida harassing him. It was then that he resolved that he would return the kid’s hat. Things were tough enough as it was, and at least he let him go with a warning.

It was then when he heard an enthusiastic bark from Lizzie.

---

Smell man….Man smells dirty…

Man likes me! Man pets me! Man loves me and gives me food!

Me love man…

…Smell pigeon!!

A sudden rouse and Lizzie, the old English bulldog, snapped her eyes open and waved her limbs feebly in the air as she woke up. With a good twist she rolled onto her belly and stood up, her nose sniffed the air inquisitively. There was a new scent in the air. The scent of something new was in the house and of course that meant that she would have to investigate. With a wide yawn, the squat dog shook her fur all over and trotted off towards the living room.

She continued to sniff until she spotted what was new. The sight of feathers and the shape of a new person in the kitchen immediately drew her attention. She dashed over but stayed a careful distance away. She watched the newcomer curiously, her head tilted from side to side as she tried to make sense of what was in the kitchen.

It was then that she started to bark with curiosity, almost as if she were demanding the pigeon-man tell her what he was.

---

Jorge had heard the barks clearly. Usually when Lizzie is dreaming she manages to bark up a storm, but these sounded much different. As he slipped out of the shower, Jorge quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants and started to creep out from the bathroom. At first he could hear nothing, but then he heard the sound that told him something was off. It was the whirl of his refrigerator’s motor. That could only mean that the door was open, which he knew he never did.

Hair still soaked from the shower, his body glistened with the leftover droplets as he crept out and stepped very quietly down his hallway. He reached out with his hand to the still running shower and formed two globes of water that had swirled and floated gently over to him. They circled nearby as Jorge got closer to the entrance to his living room and listened carefully. He could hear the scamper of Lizzie’s paws on the floor. She was somewhere near the kitchen…therefore, so must be whoever was in his house.

After a steady breath, Jorge then leapt out and brought forth both swirling globes of water and they circled dangerously around his shoulders.

“Freeze! NYPD!” he yelled as he looked towards his kitchen.

Sandwich in hand and a large portion of it in his mouth Carrick couldn’t silence the now barking dog that was sleeping so peacefully before. In fact when he first walked in there he figured the larger squat dog was on its last leg, it was after all the fattest bulldog he had ever seen. He had been around dogs a bit of his life having being raised with one when he was little he was familiar with the ways of distraction.

Swallowing his food and setting the sandwich down he picked up a bit of the ham that was left over in the fridge. Shaking off the excess amount of ham and getting a nice large slice Carrick waved it around a bit trying to distract the pooch, ”Shhhh… quite down ya big beast, have a piece of ham!” but before he could launch the food towards the dog someone else entered the room the one he was after.

His hat now on his head he smirked to the man only to realize that he had two globes behind his head… they looked like water but when he commanded that he freeze he tossed the lunch meat towards Jorge attempting to pelt him in the face with it. ”You’ll never take me alive copper see!” Carrick said in a mock Al Capone voice as he inched back on the counter and then turned over with sandwich in hand.

Rolling off the counter he hopped up onto a table and then he squatted down slightly taking another bite of his sandwich, ”Can you really arrest me with nothing but sweat pants on? Might look bad for you, you walk in half naked to the police department with a poor defenseless little ol’ me…” he smirked again now talking a bit with his full, ”Be an interesting story to say the least.”

“Carry?” Jorge asked in surprise as he watched the boy he had met in the park previously, now in his kitchen with a large smirk on his face.

Part of the detective knew that he should not have been surprised by this turn out because it was obvious why the boy was here. He wanted his hat back, the one that he had taken from him in the park less than an hour ago. Jorge could not blame him for the display. After all, he took something that was his and no one really had the right to do that to a pickpocket. No thief likes to think that he has been bested, especially by a police officer. Still, Jorge kept the sharp, almost angered expression on his face as he looked down at the slime-like feeling he felt on his chest. Slowly a wad of sandwich ham started to peel and roll down his chest, leaving a fine trail of preservatives and general meat goo on his skin.

And down past his chest stood Lizzie with what looked like a smile on her face and her tongue half out of her mouth. With a sigh, Jorge reached over, peeled the meat the rest of the way off and let it fall to his feet. Immediately Lizzie was on the slices of ham that she licked and chomped on happily.

“Listen kid, you had no right to break into my house like that,” he said sharply as he turned back into the hallway and grabbed a towel. The globes of water still circled around behind him as he started to dry off his hair. “And yes, I can arrest you, even if I have just sweats on. It’s called ‘Breaking and Entering’. And besides, I wouldn’t have to take you down there myself. All it takes is a call to the station.”

He sighed as he waved his hand and the water globes immediately responded and hovered over to the sink where they dissipated into a shower and splash and swirled down the drain. Next Jorge just stood there and watched the kid as he happily ate a sandwich from his own fridge, as well as Lizzie at his feet who seemed to enjoy her own meal.

The detective quickly shook his head. “Listen, just get outta here, okay? Before you really do make me haul your butt in. You have your hat, you have your sandwich,” he waved his hand dismissively, “via con dios.” With an irritated sigh, Jorge headed into the kitchen to started to put stuff back, as well as make a cheese sandwich for himself.

Taking a bite of a the sandwich Carrick shook his head, ”On the contrary,” Carrick said as he fell to his but on the table chewing the sandwich and then crossing his legs, ”You took my hat, I only came to take it back.” Carrick said with a bit of a sneer on his face when Jorge told him what it was called, ”It’s called ‘Theft’” Carrick said as his smirk widened another bite of the sandwich slipping into his mouth as he chewed it while his tail swayed behind him the way a cat’s tail swayed when he was playing with a mouse.

Eyes fixed on the larger man before him he shrugged his shoulders, ”And tell them what? You stole a homeless kid’s hat and then threatened to arrest him when he came to get it back, not sure that would make you look so great.” when he was dismissed he remained where he was and looked at the sandwich that was no longer enough to fill his hunger.

It had been the first thing he had to ate in a while and the fact that he was ‘working’ and the fact that he had to fly all the way back to the cops… ”So you’re a mutant?” Carrick asked as he hopped off the table and onto the floor when the Jorge walked into the kitchen to clean up the mess he made and make a sandwich for himself. Walking over to the sink he looked into to it to make sure the water was really gone, ”So can you control water?” Carrick asked taking another bite he looked back to Jorge and waved his hand, ”Can I have another sandwich?”

>>“Can I have another sandwich?”

Jorge turned and looked at the boy with an incredulous look. His brow raised he looked like he was about to say now. He had already built his own sandwich, two pieces of wheat bread, a thin layer of mustard, and two slices of cheese and lettuce. After he added the top layer of bread, Jorge placed his palm over it and squished it down so that the sandwich was compressed pretty flat. Having done so, Jorge shot another look at Carry before he tossed his the pack of bread.

“You know where all the stuff is,” he said as he walked out of his kitchen and headed back into the living room. “Put it back when you’re done.”

He knew that the boy was trying to rile him up. He was trying to make him feel bad for stealing his hat, but unfortunately Jorge knew the system too well. Yeah, the kid could have told the police about what had happened, but sadly they were more than likely to believe an experienced police officer had the right to do what he did and ignore the boy’s story. With a sigh, Jorge merely shook his head before he plopped himself down on his sofa.

Lizzie looked up from her spot and licked her chops for any leftover ham. Quickly, upon noticing that her master was seated, she jumped onto the couch and laid her head down on his lap.

Jorge smirked to himself as he reached down and gently rubbed the dog between her ears. His fingers scratched that tender spot that almost made the dog drool immediately. It was a few seconds of this before he finally shot Carry another glance and nodded his head.

“Yeah kid, I’m a mutant,” he said as he watched the boy, “and I take it that since you were able to get here so quickly that those wings of yours are definitely real.”

His surprise and anger quelled, Jorge waited for the boy to talk as he patted his now snoring bulldog and ate his sandwich. Obviously the kid wanted something more than just his cap back so he would let the kid talk.

Permission it was given but it wasn’t needed even though it was Jorge’s house and his kitchen and his food Carrick didn’t feel that he need to ask for it, he was going to take it regardless but it made it easier when the man agreed to it, he wouldn’t have to fight for the food. It was only right Jorge apologize for stealing his hat this happened to be better than any apology so happily Carrick walked over to counter and started making his next sandwich while the remaining half of one was still in his hand occasionally becoming smaller as he continued to nibble on it as he made more food.

A bit upset that his attempt to upset the officer didn’t work Carrick took another bite of his sandwich as the now newly completed one looked at him from the counter. Another bite of his previous sandwich and Carrick finished it as he picked up the mustard and other sandwich ingredients and walked them over to the fridge where he opened the door and did his best to place them where he found them.

Upon placing the meat back in it’s rightful place the young wing mutant noticed something he didn’t before. Instantly a grin peeked up on his face as the golden liquid looked back at him through a slightly browned bottle. With a small clink of the glass bottle Carrick removed the alcoholic beverage and grinned, ‘This will get him ticked off’. Carrick said fully intending to get a reaction out of the cop who was now on the couch with his dog who was ready to drool all over him.

Ducking down lower into the fridge Carrick opened the bottle as quietly as he could before he placed the bottle cap in his back pocket (the way he had seen his father do it) and then turned to the new sandwich and grabbed it, ”No, I wear the wings as a fashion statement,” Carrick said as he walked into the living room where Jorge and his big bull dog was. Passing the couch where they were swinging Carrick started to swing the beer making it obvious he had it his hand but played it off that he was doing nothing wrong.

Walking to a nearby chair he sat in it and took a bite of his new sandwich, ”The tail howeber is eal” said the winged teen with a mouth still full of food. With a loud gulp he swallowed his food and looked to Jorge, ”It makes for good stories and introductions.” he said playing off his tail was the only mutation he really had.

It was needless to say that the kid was beginning to rub Jorge the wrong way, but the more than he just let him talk, the more he wanted to believe that maybe there was something deeper to the smart-mouthed Irish kid. So as he sat and petted Lizzie who laid sprawled on the couch and happily drooled, Jorge decided to try and give Carry the benefit of the doubt. After all, maybe he really was trying to reach out to someone. But as Jorge entertained this possibilities, he suddenly looked up as he walked back into the living room and sat across from him…holding a bottle of beer.

The recognition was immediate as Jorge watched the kid take another sip from the bottle. Obviously as he had been raiding his fridge, he plucked one of his beers from inside as well. Jorge was fast as he moved to his feet, reached over and plucked the bottle from Carry’s hands and sat back down.

“DEFINITELY not in my house,” he said matter-of-factly and set the beer bottle down on a nearby night stand and shook his head. “So what, you’re sticking around to eat my food and drink alcohol? That your great plan for revenge, to irritate me?”

He shook his head slightly as he kept the bottle as far away from the kid as he could and continued to pet and scratch Lizzie behind her ears. It was not long before she started to snore again and lay unmoving. For a long time Jorge regarded the kid and in the end, came up with no idea what to do with him. It was like having a dog follow you home after a long day. You do not want to turn him away, but you do not really know what to do about it once they return to your house. Again, he did not want to kick the kid out, even though his nerves had started to fray. He was lucky that he had the day off.

Jorge stared at the kid and simply shrugged as he stood up, left the sleeping Lizzie on her cushion and walked back into his kitchen with the open bottle of beer. He dumped the rest of the contents down the drain tossed the bottle into the garbage with a loud clink of glass. Then he pulled open his fridge and pulled out two different glass bottles of dark brown color. As he headed back into the living room, Jorge tossed Carry the new bottle that had the word BEER clearly printed on it…along with the word ROOT.

The detective grinned as he unscrewed the cap and tossed it onto his coffee table. “That seems more your vintage, kid,” he said with a small grin. “So, long as you’re here, how’d you find your way to New York?”

If someone told him someone that big could move that fast he wouldn’t have believed it unless they were a mutant. Before he could react the beer was removed from his hand and Carrick looked down at his empty hand and frowned slightly. ”But… but I’m Irish! I needs it!” he said as he swallowed the last bit of his food in his mouth, as he looked at the sandwich not ready to take another bite dry. Honestly he had no intention of drinking the beer, he just wanted to see what he could get away with.

Thinking about Jorge’s comment he tilted his head, ”All depends if it is working doesn’t it?” he asked shrugging giving into his hunger and taking another bite of the large sandwich before chewing it and swallowing it.

Making a gasping sound as Jorge got up and deposited the beer in the sink he let out a groan and then heard the glass clink ‘thank you acting’ Carrick thought to himself as he shook his head, ”You know back home if someone saw you do that they would have gotten a angry mob and run you out of town.” he took another bite of the sandwich and smirked to Jorge when he offered him another bottle.

Taking the bottle happily and lifting it to Jorge in thanks he pressed the bottle against his lips and started to drink the soda. Setting down in his lap next to his sandwich he gave Jorge a look not really sure how to respond but then decided it didn’t really matter what he knew about himself. ”Round a year ago I think…” he said as he looked up trying to remember when he did decide to stay in mansion. ”I ended up coming to the city with a traveling circus for mutants and freaks and decided to follow the change in the wind.”

Carrick took another bite of his sandwich and then sipped the drink then shrugged, ”Ma and Da weren’t to happy with the transition from boarding school to circus but now that they know that I’m at the Mansion they aren’t to worried.”

>> “All depends if it is working doesn’t it?”

“Getting pretty damn close to,” Jorge muttered but in a tone where the kid could not tell if it were jokingly or serious.

After Jorge had returned and gave Carry the soda, he sighed as he sat back in his seat and listened to the kid’s story. So he had came in with the circus and broke away from them not long after. No wonder the he had some skills with the art of thieving. The detective had to admit that Carry did have some excellent showmanship, and now upon hearing the rest of his story, he was sure where that talent came from. From the little he had seen of the kid in the park, he was good and getting someone’s attention as well as playing up his mutation for entertainment sake. And all this coupled with the fact that the kid was a good pickpocket, only added to it.

But as he was listening to his story, something the kid had said suddenly grabbed his attention.

>> “but now that they know that I’m at the Mansion they aren’t too worried.”

“Wait,” Jorge said as he sat a little forward from the couch and set down his own bottle of root beer. “Mansion? You mean that Xavier Institute?”

Jorge remembered his first day in New York, when he looked so lost outside of the department. A young girl, another mutant had helped him. She had taken the time the stop, given some advice about the city, as well as just being an all around nice person (the first he had met since he arrived at New York). What was her name? Veronica? Vienna? Verdigris!

As he watched Carry he nodded slowly. “I meet one of those Mansion kids none too long ago,” he said with a short nod. “They let you drink beer there?”

Before Carry could answer his question, the sudden sound of a phone ring cutting through the air pulled both of their attentions to the coffee table. Jorge was quick the snatch it up, flipped it upon and answered. He walked over into his hallway, and paced, his voice hovering out about a sudden case that they need him in for. The detective responded that it would be of no problem and walked back into the living room.

“Ok kid, you need to go. Sorry but duty calls,” was all he said as he walked back into the hallway and disappeared into one of his bedroom where he started to dress in his one of his grey suits. He prayed that the young mutant would take the hint and leave, but something told him that he was not going to be that lucky.

The smirk Carrick had on in between bites of food remained when Jorge said he was getting close. He had no doubt that Jorge was getting mad but the odds of him acting on that anger, slim to none and in Carrick’s mind Jorge had a lesson to learn, one that involved not stealing from a winged thief with a smug attitude and the ability to climb in through fire escape windows.

Nodding his head Carrick spoke, ”One of the few places I can get free room and board so why not?” he asked like there was no other alternative. ”Oh?” Carrick asked not really sure if Jorge was going somewhere with this story or if he was just stating some sort of fact, ”Mansion is near the city, wouldn’t be to unheard of…” Carrick said continuing with the small talk as he took another bite of his sandwich.

”It’s a school, Eejit you think they would let me drink there?” Carrick asked in a tone where even if Jorge was unfamiliar with the term he knew it was meant as an insult. When he finished his sentence Jorge was already up and moving and Carrick wasn’t exactly sure if he heard him. It didn’t matter though he could finish his meal in peace while the po-po could get ready for whatever he had to do.

Reappearing a few seconds later Carrick stared at the decked out officer and then tried hard not to cough on his food. ”But, but where will I go?” Carrick asked in an innocent tone as he got up and walked over to the window where he came in, ”Alright, alright I can take a hint…” lied Carrick as he figured he could just as easily follow Jorge seeing as he had nothing else better to do toady.

With one more bite of his sandwich and one last gulp of his drink Carrick placed the bottle on the window sill and jumped out, ”Welp you have fun being a cop and all that jazz…” Carrick said as he hopped over the fire escape and jumped off opening his wings. Once he was sure Jorge would have left his apartment Carrick waited to see where Jorge was going.

>> ”Welp you have fun being a cop and all that jazz…”

“And you stop getting into trouble,” Jorge said as he watched the boy leap out his window.

After he made sure that Carry was actually gone, Jorge locked his window as securely as he could and continued to get dress in his cheap gray suit, snatched up his keys and ran out the door. Jorge was quick as he dashed and took several steps down at the same time. It was obvious that he was in a rush and it was simply just better to not get in his way. As he stepped quickly outside the building, he climbed into his car, started his engine and pulled out into the street.

Even though it was his day off, criminals never seemed to remember that fact. They always wanted to be at their worst when he had time away from work, which, in actuality, was probably a good thing because if there were one thing he hated was being home alone. The detective did not have much of a personal life since his work took up much, if not all of his time. He came to New York to put his abilities to use, not to sit at home with Lizzie and watch TV for hours. Not that he was opposed to having a life. If he made a friend or two, that was fine, but there was always the threat of criminals in the back of his mind.

The phone call had been a surprising one. Apparently this mutant was caught trying to commit some petty pickpocket work. Normally this would not have attracted the MRC, but this was a special case…the perp looked like a giant bee. He had to repeat the term to himself because it was hard to believe at first, but then again, he already met a were-scorpion once, so why not a were-bee? Reports stated that the mugger was someone who looked like the cross between a man and a bumblebee, completely with transparent wings and stinger.

Last known whereabouts were the docks, where the latest witness said he saw the mutant flee too after a failed purse snatching. Jorge drove fast, dodging around traffic, but he was careful enough not to draw attention. As he came closer to the docks, the air that whipped by smelled of the ocean and immediately he was reminded of Miami. The water smelled different. He didn’t know how he could tell, but he knew that it smelled different. He followed that scent all the way to docks, where he pulled his car to a stop alongside another squad car that seemed to be there merely to keep an eye out for the mutant.

Jorge sighed as he climbed out of his car, walked up to the officer on guard and flashed him his badge. “ What’s the situation?”

“Big damn bee!” the officer said with a smirk.

Jorge raised a brow. “Officer, stay back and keep an eye out. I will call if I need any help.”

He then pulled his handgun from his holster and started onto the docks. He could already feel the tug of the ocean water off the edge of the docks. There was plenty of water around for back up if he needed it, but until then, he kept his gun drawn and walked towards the abandoned dock buildings, listening intently for any…buzzing.

Jorge pulled a gun as the ocean smell tickled Carrick’s nose. He was tempted to sneeze but refrained from it as he sat on a nearby building watching everything that was going on. Carrick didn’t know why Jorge pulled the gun… okay he knew he just didn’t know the situation. The way he was driving it wasn’t an emergency but then again he didn’t want to wait in traffic. Carrick shrugged slightly and then closed his eyes for a second and felt the breeze tug on his wings calling him to the sky but he refrained for the time being.

No reason to go anywhere yet, from the looks of things it was about to start to get interesting. The gun was drawn so something was going to happen right? Carrick just hoped that Jorge would be alright, not because Carrick actually liked the guy, just it would be a cat if anything happened to such a nice guy… even if he did take his hat… Carrick eyes narrowed on him slightly as he recalled that fact again and he was tempted to leave but instead inched forward on the roof of the nearest building to Jorge and dangled his feet.

Kicking his feet back and forth he silently wondered what it was like to get shot, the idea son left him as he shook his head, he didn’t bother thinking about the subject anymore after all he had no intention of ever being shot at… well other than the time the bullet grazed a feather on his wing but that was because he had a terrible shot... at least that was what Carrick thought.

(Cat = Bad)

Jorge made no noise, no sudden movements, he barely breathed, but all this was necessary. He was here to chase down a very dangerous perp, but and that meant it was better he got the drop on him, rather than the other way around. Any noise could alter his presence, as the detective has learned over the years, and this time was no different. Stay quiet and keep moving and you’ll eventually find a way out. That is what he had to employ here. The area was big, there were too many nooks and crannies from the buildings, so he needed all his senses working for him.

He sighed as he shook his head. “A giant bee? Really?”

Jorge still could not get over what he found so odd about it. After all, one of his first calls, he greeted a werescorpion at the scene! That experience still worked as his blanket excuse to explain everything he had run across. Yet, the idea of a giant bee was still curious to him. What was he supposed to do? Bring a can of raid and hope for the best?

BBBZzzzzzzzzzz!

He had heard it loud but it slowly tapered, as if someone were trying to hide where they were. Jorge turned to the location where he heard it, and it came from a building just off to the side. It could have been nothing more than a trick of his years, but he was going to have to risk it. He could spend hours checking the docks and every building and he simply did not have that kind of time. The bee could flee whenever she wanted. But judging by some of the description, whoever this person was simply might not have that energy.

Hand on the door handle, Jorge took a stead breath and pulled the door open quickly. He was fast as he jumped into the abandoned building with gun trained high. He checked all of his corners and blind spots before he advanced into the darkness.

Bbbbbbzzzzzzzzz!!!”

Buzzzzz!!

He kept his eyes peeled as he peered around, following the sound but kept his gun trained towards any openings in which an ambush could be set up. Then, as he rounded another corner, he was met with a very strange site. Against one corner of the room, was the biggest honeycomb he could see. It smelled of wax and honey and as he crept closer he could see how solidly it was constructed. It actually reminded him of a piece of art…until he saw the larger than normal larva that wiggled and moved instead each of the combs.

“That is disgusting,” muttered as he started to step closer to the honeycomb. One of their cells could fit a basketball! That alone is a testament to its size. Then, he heard the swift flutter of wings as the sound of something barreling through the air at him.

“Those are my babies!!!”

Jorge leapt out of the way and took cover just in time as a humanoid bee burst into the scene and had tried to stab him with the massively large stinger. The mutant was terrifying to look at. The body of a man, but with short coarse hairs all over in the shades of black and yellow. His eyes had been replaced with large black orbs, obviously which housed his thousands of eyes and from his back erupted fast moving, transparent wings. Gun raised, Jorge stood up straight and kept the gun trained on his assailant.

“MRC! Put your all your legs up and holster that stinger!!” he shouted as he kept his gun trained.

The man-bee hovered threateningly, stinger dripping with poison. The mutant could only smirk, if you can smirk with mandibles, and shook his head. “You are in WAY over your head officer. Don’t you know your insect anatomy? I have an exoskeleton. You cannot shoot to kill.”

“Maybe not,” Jorge said but still did not replace his gun. “But trust me, I have a trick or two up my own sleeve.”