>>“Gemma! Down!”

He didn't really need to tell her. When a crazed criminal is trying to run you over out of sheer anger and confusion, your main thought usually is to get the hell out of the way. Gemma stumbled back just as Mittens hit the ground, and the chair brushed past her as it collided with the gunmen. They were already confused to begin with.

She turned around and looked to make sure she was still close enough to Mittens; judging by the size of his hands, she was. Too close for comfort; but close enough to make things easier for Jorge.
She glanced at the gunmen; one got the chair right in his face, and was sprawled out on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling from shock; the other was groaning and trying to get up, reaching for the pistol he'd dropped.

"Damn."

Taking anouther step backwards, Gemma grabbed the gun before he could. Thank God I know how to handle this.

"Stay down."

That was one threat less now; she just hoped the other guy wouldn't be aiming anything at anyone soon. Turning back to look at Jorge and Mittens, she really hoped they were still within range. She certainly couldn't shoot; they were kinda close together. She didn't want to hit the detective by accident...

“Say Cervantes, whatcha got planned for your date tonight?”

“Oh not much. Dinner, maybe a little dancing, then I think maybe putting her life into mortal danger against an obviously insane mutant with extremely large hands who has a vendetta against me.”

“Sweet!”

Time had slowed as Jorge barreled straight at the momentarily confused Mittens. As the inner monologue played out, continued to wind back his fist. There were no words for how angry he was. Mitten’s timing, his not being informed of his escape, and the fact that Gemma was here in danger, was enough to push him over the edge. And it seemed as if every single ounce of that anger and hatred balled into his fist…

…then released the second it struck Mitten’s surprised jaw.

Though Mittens was taller than Jorge, he was the experienced fighter and knew how to deliver a strong punch, and that was exactly what he did to Mittens. As he threw his fist forward, catching the surprised Mitten’s off guard, Jorge threw his full weight behind the punch and aimed dead center in the man’s jaw. For a split second it seemed as if the mutant’s face would indeed swallow Jorge’s fist as but within a moment, the officers punch continued to drive into the mutant’s face before his off-balanced body could not take it anymore. Mittens gasped in pain and utter shock as he suddenly spun backward, across the room before he fell momentarily stunned against the wall. Into a heap he collapsed to the ground.

Jorge breathed heavily as he turned back to Gemma and saw that she had a gun trained on one of the still conscious gunmen. The man had his hands up, glaring at the woman as she kept the gun on him. The detective nodded to her to make sure she was okay before knelt down next to the remaining unconscious man, grabbed his cell phone the gunman had taken away when he first gave up, and relieved him of another hand pistol, a taser, and a knife.

Wow, these guys really wanted me dead, he thought to himself as he removed the man’s belt and turned their hostage over onto his stomach, effectively tying his wrists to his ankles with a the belt. It was not a comfortable position, but the detective little cared about that.

Jorge sighed heavily as he turned back to Gemma and slowly walked up to her, tucking the extra gun he just took into the back of his pants. He then snapped open his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.

“Gemma, are you okay?” he asked as he waited for the line to pick up. He walked up close and gently put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

But before he could get an answer from here, he heard shouting down in the hallway, down the stairs. More of Mitten’s goons were coming. They must have heard some type of commotion. Jorge grit his teeth as he quickly slammed the door shut to the control room and locked it. He slowly backed up and pushed Gemma behind him as he pulled his own gun free from his belt. That was when he glanced towards the window that overlooked the deck outside. From in this room though, he could hear groaning from Mittens. The mutant would wake up soon.

He shot another glance to Gemma and then nodded to the window.

“I think that’s going to be our only exit.”

Mittens went down. That was one hell of a punch right there. Gemma remembered to breathe again. It felt good, breathing.

>>“Gemma, are you okay?”

"Yeah, I'm fine." she sighed, putting her free hand on his. The other one was still holding the gun. Dinner dresses were not designed for carrying weapons. Not usually, anyway.

And then, there was shouting. Jorge locked the door. Mittens was starting to wake up. Gemma cursed under her breath as they backed away from the door.

>>“I think that’s going to be our only exit.”

She glanced at the window and the deck. "You gotta be kidding me." she muttered with a frown, then turned back to Jorge. "And let them take control of the ship? You sure that's a good idea?" she took a few steps closer to Mittens; his hands that started growing shrunk once again. He groaned, half awake.
Gemma held out her free hand.

"Give me that cellphone, I'll call it in. You go, work your magic."

>> "Give me that cellphone, I'll call it in. You go, work your magic."

Though this was hardly the time for it, Jorge had to smirk, with accompanying pain in his cheek, at her decisiveness. Though it was true that it was not a good idea to let Mittens, and his group, still have control of the boat, Jorge was still more concerned with getting Gemma out of harm’s way. Then again, it was obvious that the woman could handle herself. So with a nod of acceptance he knelt down next to Mittens, undid the man’s leather belt, and tied his now normal sized hands behind his back. That would at least take care of him in case he managed to regain consciousness.

THUD! THUD!

Jorge snapped back towards the door when he heard the commotion. The rest of Mitten’s crew were trying to break down the door. He cast another glance at Gemma as she was one the phone. He would have to hold them off, which would mean using his abilities. Then, he felt it, that connection with the mass of water that swirled through the pipes in the boat and churned underneath. Gemma must have stepped back enough so he was now out of her field.

He just hoped that he would not be forced too close to her prematurely. He had to focus.

“Gemma, stay in the corner, out of the line of sight of doorway,” he said as he clenched his fists. “I don’t want you in danger of a stray bullet.

Jorge breathed hard as he tightened his fists. The water immediately sprang to his command. He could feel it like a fisherman who got his first bite of the day. He felt that he had his hooks in the liquid mass around him and summoned as much as he could to help him out of this situation. Soon water started to seep in through the vents and cracks in the windows, then through whatever opening could be found on the floor. It was not long before a mass of water swirled around Jorge’s feet, reflective and deadly as it spun fast, making him look as if he were in the middle of a whirlpool. As the water noiselessly swirled, Jorge nodded to Gemma that he was going to open the door. It may have seemed reckless, but it was better than letting them shoot their way in.

Then, in the blink of an eye, after one more THUD! against the door, Jorge unbolted and swung the door wide open. There were three of the gunmen there, one of which was being untied by another, while the fourth one still lay knocked on the floor. Jorge did not give them enough time to raise their guns to attack before he suddenly shot out his hand and threw out as much of the water as he could control.

The deafening roar of the water as it surged past him and into the hall was distracting and enough to keep them from raising their guns to him. The force of the water jet Jorge pushed out struck them hard and fast, and sent a pair of them tumbling backwards. As he tried to keep them occupied in the hall, Jorge strained his ears to listen inside the room, to make sure that Gemma was okay and that Mittens, who was out of his line of sight was not stirring.

“You okay in there?” Jorge asked, little noticing that Mittens, indeed was beginning to fully awaken.

>>“Gemma, stay in the corner, out of the line of sight of doorway. I don’t want you in danger of a stray bullet.

She nodded and snapped the cellphone shut. Well, at least help was on the way, somewhere out there, and hopefully they'd be able to contain the situation until they got there. Gemma bit her lips as she kept the gun pointed at Mittens; he was lying on his stomach, hands tied behind his back.

Jorge did a good job keeping the fight out of the control room; that didn't mean she was not worried. It would have been better if she could see what was going on out there. But leaving Mittens alone would have been a very, very bad idea.

The man on the floor grunted, and twisted his head to look up at her with a nasty expression on his face. Gemma glared back.

"I suggest you stay down." she said, raising the gun so he could see it clearly "Don't think I wouldn't shoot you."

>>“You okay in there?”

"I'm fine!" she called back, then glanced down at the man again "I might have to shoot Mittens, though."

She could see hatred in his eyes. She'd made her point.

>> "I'm fine! I might have to shoot Mittens, though."

“Trust me, I have no problem with that,” Jorge muttered to himself as he turned his attention back to the hallway.

So far he kept the gunmen subdued with another volley of water whenever he saw them so much as peek out their heads from around a corner. A couple he had gotten with a few solid hits, but he knew he needed more than this. Most of all he needed back up, an extra person or two to handle the situation. He did not want to deputized Gemma because, despite the fact that he did not want to put her into more danger, her null field at least kept Mitten’s pacified.

Jorge slowly crept down the steps, kicking aside whatever dropped weapons he came across. The gunmen had clearly not anticipated his abilities otherwise they would not have been caught off guard the way they did. But as Jorge reached the bottom of the water soaked steps, he stopped at the corner and slowly watched as the barrel of a gun began to poke out. His body instantly reacting to the sight, Jorge grabbed the gun and pulled the assailant out from around the corner. The two struggled with the man’s gun before the detective finally managed to disarm the man and deliver a strong elbow to the man’s face and then punched as hard as he could into the man’s gut.

All the air out of him, the man collapsed in a coughing, spurting heap. Jorge kicked the man’s gun away and pulled out the pistol he had already confiscated from a gunman earlier. He slowly crept out and glanced into the hallway, but reflexes immediately pulled him back. Before the sound had fully registered in his ears, Jorge heard the beginning sounds of a the click of a gun. A bullet whizzed past there his head had once been and he pressed himself back against the wall.

“Nope, still pissed,” he whispered, as he as he made sure the safety was off on his gun. Once the gunfire stopped, Jorge held his breath before he quickly leaned out, pulled up the gun, aimed to where he saw them reloaded, and opened a few shots.

BLAM!!

BLAM!!


BLAM!!

After which he leaned back into the hall. His first two shots seemed to have struck nothing important, but it was the third shot that brought some good news. Immediately he heard one of the gunmen yell in pain and collapse to the ground. Jorge didn’t know how serious the shot was, but he hoped that man would at least be counted out of the fray. Then, he heard the words he really was none too happy to hear.

“Break out the Uzis!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he groaned as he held tight to his pistol. But before he could try to squeeze off another shot, he heard the quick, sudden spurt of several bullets being fired from a small, rapid gun.

BLLLLLLLLLLLLLAM!! BLLAMM!

Jorge had to leap back as the edge of the wall he had leaned against was eaten away by several rounds of bullets thanks to the mini submachine gun. Jorge ground his teeth as he beat a quick retreat, gun held tightly in his own hand. He did not like the way things had been going and the second he thinks he might get the upper hand, they break out the machine guns?! The detective knew a losing scenario. Even his tidal shield would not be able to divert that many bullets.

We need to get out of here, Jorge thought as he quickly ran back up the stairs and towards the control room.

***

Indeed Mitten’s had heard exactly what the woman had said, and especially the part about shooting him. He did not know what had happened but he knew that whatever it was, his hands were still small. This was not a comfortable feeling, especially in this situation where he was supposed to be the one in control, not some cheap date for a detective he wanted to kill himself! He continued to glare at the woman as he continued to subtly tried and wiggle his hands free. The one good thing, that whatever had happened to his hands, the skin with still loose and quite hard to restrain.

“You know, Sweetcheeks, the second I get out of this, I’m snapping Cervantes’ neck,” Mittens muttered in just a low enough voice for her to hear. “In front of you. Then…”

Wiggle, wiggle. He was slowly able to pull one of his over wrinkly hands from the restraint behind his back.

“You got friends? Family? Cause I’m hunting them all down, and with each person I’m ripping off a limb,” he snarled with contempt as he glared up at her. “Especially if you have any kids! No matter where they are, I will find them, and I will rip them in half!!”

But just as he said these last, venomous words, the sound of gunshots echoed up from the hallway. Neither could see what was happening, so Mittens continued to play on the woman. He chuckled a little as he pretended to still be tightly restrained. Instead though, both his now free, though hidden, hands clenched tight as he slowly turned his gaze from her.

“Don’t worry, my men have orders not to kill him on sight. Of course, having your knee caps shot out won’t be too much fun either,” he grinned as he gave her a side glance. “And then –“

But his phrase never finished.

BLLLLLLLLLLLLLAM!! BLLAMM!

The sound of the semi-automatic fire echoed loud in the control room and very suddenly. It was enough so that the monotone of his voice in a steady, almost quiet area, until suddenly more gun fire invaded it. Mittens took the opportunity that was presented to him. Hoping that she was surprised by the noise, he suddenly turned, grabbed some fallen debris from his earlier exploits and hurled it as fast as he could at the woman. Just as he did, he bolted to his feet and ran directly for her, to tackle her hard to the ground!!

“I’ll make you suffer!!”

>>“You know, Sweetcheeks, the second I get out of this, I’m snapping Cervantes’ neck. In front of you. Then…”

"No you're not." Gemma muttered, not really paying attention to what Mittens was saying. She was sure he could say horrible things, and that he would be capable of actually doing most of them, if he got the chance. Showing fear would have been a mistake; so she tried not to react at all. She could see commotion from the hallways, and gunshots; she was worried. Very, very worried.

>>“You got friends? Family? Cause I’m hunting them all down, and with each person I’m ripping off a limb. Especially if you have any kids! No matter where they are, I will find them, and I will rip them in half!!”

"That. Would be. A mistake." Gemma growled. Gunshots echoed once again; she winced, and glanced towards the door, then out the window. What the heck was keeping the police so long? They should be here any minute...

>>“Don’t worry, my men have orders not to kill him on sight. Of course, having your knee caps shot out won’t be too much fun either. And then –“

That was the first bit of good news all night. They wouldn't shoot Jorge on sight. Well, at least that's what Mittens said. People don't trust criminals for a reason.

BLLLLLLLLLLLLLAM!! BLLAMM!

Gemma winced as het attention snapped back towards the door. What the hell?! They had freakin' machine guns?! She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. Things had just gone from very bad to complete sh*t.

And then they got worse.

>>“I’ll make you suffer!!”

The debris hit her face first, and caught her off guard; the next moment Mittens hit her with a force that knocked the air out of her lungs. They both landed on the floor; Gemma saw black and red as her head hit the floor. Somewhere during the fall and the brawl, she pulled the trigger.

BLAM.

Mittens only saw red and rage as he threw himself at the woman. As soon as the debris hit her and she was distracted, he took the opportunity to throw his full weight towards her. Though he did not have his large hands, he was still an imposing figure, and yes she may have been a tall one, he was sure he had enough weight behind him to knock her off balance. It was then that he felt his body connect with hers, low and hard into her stomach. He could almost hear all the breath escape in a puff out from between her lips as he tackled and took her down the floor. The thud that resounded from their fallen bodies was loud and painful sounding.

The exhausted, but rage fueled Mittens, simply snarled as he struggled with the woman. He needed to wrestle that gun away with from. One of his melted hands held tight to her gun hand and with other tried to keep her free hand from scratching his eyes out. Spittle ran down from between his arch lips, making him look more like a mad dog than a man, and in essence that is what he had become. He wanted blood and he was going to get it.

But as the struggling commenced, Mittens felt a suddenly switch in power when it came to this woman. He had no idea who she was, but she was strong and something was compelling her to keep fighting. He would have to choke the life out of her if he could just get one hand around her slender neck and then –

>> BLAM!

It was loud, deafening, and when Mittens looked down, he could only see blood…

***

Though the sound of the submachine gun fire had still erupted behind him in the hallway, there was one single sound that demanded his full attention. He glanced up the second he heard a single gunshot. It was not one to be confused with the multitude that happened behind him. No, this one was isolated and came from somewhere up ahead. The control room. Panic immediately beset Jorge as he dashed off, gun still in hand as he tore up the staircase, taking two stairs at a time until he ran back into the room where he had left Mittens with Gemma.

And that was when he saw it.

Mittens sat up on his knees, over Gemma, with his free hands up. It was obvious that the man had gotten free, but as Jorge took a brief second to survey the scene, he immediately noticed the crimson pool that formed on the floor. His eyes wide, he looked with fear at Gemma, but it did not take him long to discern that the blood did not come from her. Instead, it was coming from Mittens. The mutant was sitting on his knees, and held up one of his hands. It was this hand, this normally huge and bulletproof hand that was now shriveled up with sagging skin. But there was something new about it as well. Dead center, as he held it up, Jorge spied a gapping hole. It was from here that blood seeped and dripped onto the floor.

The criminal shook as he suddenly screamed out loud as pain resonated throughout his entire hand, up his arm and attacked the base of his skull like a rabid dog. He roared and dropped his now useless hand and after a moment of shock his eyes caught Gemma once more. Jorge watched as the man rose his remaining good hand, ready to strike her down out of rage.

Jorge did not even call out for him to freeze.

Instead he raised his gun…

Took aim…

And fired…

BLAM!! BLAM!!

Normally, when a man sees someone they know injured or threatened and they fire a gun, the shots are random. Sometimes they’re lucky if they even hit the perp. Jorge had seen this plenty of times before. The passion filled gunshots would be scattered in random spots, a trigger pulled by an angry hand. But Jorge knew better, he was trained better. That was why, when he fired, he meant to hit what he hit.

Mittens recoiled as two shots tore through the shoulder with his bad hand. The pain intensified ten-fold as mixed pain signals nearly overloaded his brain. There was only heat and red before his eyes as he felt himself staggering off to the side, his free hand dropping down harmlessly.

Jorge immediately came in, gun raised and put himself between Gemma and Mittens. He pushed the pain riddled Mittens backwards with his foot and spoke to Gemma.

“Are you okay? he asked.

His voice was stern and professional. His cop instincts had taken over, which he needed to do otherwise his emotions would be running wild right now. If he let that happen, he would have shot Mittens dead. But he was a cop, a good cop. And cops don’t do that. Still over Mittens with his pistol aimed directly between the criminal’s eyes, Jorge never took his eyes away, even as the red and blue flashes outside the window appeared, followed by the long whine of a siren. Gemma’s 9-1-1 proved to be helpful. They responded fast and already the other members of Mitten’s crew were beginning to scatter.

She shot him, and she was glad she did. She could see the look in his eyes up close while they were down, and she was trying, and failing, too kep him away from herself; she didn't have the strength, or the training. She was running on pure survival instinct.
And survival instinct said if you have a gun in your hand and a madman attacking you - pull the trigger.

There was yelling, and blood, lots of it. Mittens got off her, and she scampered backwards away from him until her back hit the wall; she was gasping for breath. She'd never actually shot someone before. It was not a surprise that she was able to do it; she was not shocked by the sight of blood either. She was just scared he wouldn't stop.
And he didn't.

BLAM. BLAM.

Her ears rang and she covered her face with her arms by instinct. By th time she looked up, Mittens was down, and Jorge was standing between them.

>>“Are you okay?"

"I... yeah." she nodded automatically, and stood up. Her legs were shaking, and somewhere along the way she'd lost her shoes. But she could stand. Good sign. "I'm fine."

Sirens outside. It was almost over. She looked up at Jorge. He seemed fine too; or, at least, not worse than he was before he ran after the gunmen.

"So... what now?"

>> "So... what now?"

One second. That was all he needed to collect himself and regain his composure. At the moment he said nothing because he feared what would happen if he did not keep in control of himself. He wanted so badly to simply unload a clip into the withering Mittens’ (or should I say Mitten) forehead, but he knew that was not him. At least that is what he had to keep reminding himself. He gulped down as he slowly swallowed his anger and very gently lowered his gun. Mitten was not going anywhere. The man had lost a lot of blood and already he had passed out from it.

Jorge remembered to breathe again. It was only then that he turned back around to find that Gemma now stood.

“The cavalry will wrangle everyone up,” he replied.

He walked over to the window and glanced out over the next. A police boat had rolled up next to theirs and there was a helicopter already hovering over their position. He could already here voices on a loud speaker shouting orders down to the boat. Men were trying to escape but a few of the cops had managed to get on board and secured hostages. From Jorge’s count earlier there were only about six or so gunmen, they should be easy to pack up.

Jorge cautioned another look to Gemma before he finally turned to face her completely. He had no idea what had happened in here with Mittens while he was gone, but the guilt was already creeping up on him. She shot someone. Though he was sure it was in self-defense, he did not wish that upon anyone. Especially if it was something they had never done before. It could be a bad wake up call.

As he walked up to her, he wanted to say something, anything to make her feel better. But all he could come up with was nothing. This was just supposed to be a normal night. A second date with a beautiful woman who he actually showed interest in and who actually liked him back. And then all this happened. His real life, his job seeped into his personal world. So what if he had not been informed of Mittens’ escape? It was still his life and career that pulled her into it. That was always one of his deep set fears. And tonight it came true.

Gently Jorge squeezed her shoulder as he reached down. Very gently he placed his hands on the gun she held and took it from her, slipping it into his belt along with the other he still held. He tried to say something again but only managed to sigh and very softly rub her arm.

“FREEZE POLICE!” someone shouted down below.

“I didn’t do anything! The boss made us!!”

He could hear the commotion as officers were raiding the boat, taking any of the gunmen down and arresting them. After their arrival they did not seem to put up much of a fight. Jorge was glad for that. He did not want to go through, shooting down person after person who got in his way. He just wanted home. Just then, a pair of officers in gear came up, guns drawn and pointed directly at Jorge and Gemma.

“FREEZE! HANDS UP!”

“Calm down,” he told them as he carefully removed is wallet that still had his badge inside. “Detective Cervantes, MRC division, this woman here was a hostage.” This immediately seemed to pacify them. He sighed as he nodded over to the still unconscious Mittens. “There’s the mutant you’re looking for. He lost a lot of blood.”

Jorge was cold as he said that last part of his statement. He really did not care of Mittens lived or died now. It would not be by his hand, it was up to fate now. Carefully he placed a hand on the small of Gemma’s back and gently urged her to leave with him. The last thing he wanted was to see this boat anymore.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could mutter to her as he led here away from the man who had threatened her and her entire family.

Jorge pried the gun from her hands, and she folded her arms to keep them from shaking. The worst part was over; the cavalry was here. The front of her dress was soaked in blood; it made her sick, the blood, Mittend on the floor, the blow to her head that still hurt, the ship, the police, all of it.

"Can we go home?..."

>>“FREEZE POLICE!”

She winced as they yelled, but fortunately Jorge was still in control of the situation. He walked her our of the room, and she was glad he did. She could see guilt and worry in his eyes. Of course, he was thinking it was all his fault. He was worried about her, just as she had been scared for him.

>>“I’m sorry.”

She nodded, and stayed close to him; it felt safer that way. They walked back down to the deck, but there was really nowhere to go; it would be some time before the police finished rounding everyone up, and the ship could go back to shore. Hopefully, not much time.
Gemma needed to distract herself.

"Let me see." she sighed, pushing Jorge down to sit on a chair; she tilted his chin gently to look at the bruises "You look like hell." she muttered, and tried for a small smile. Looking around, she walked over to a nearby table; there was a bottle of champagne on it in a bucket of ice, everyone on the ship had long forgotten about eating or drinking. Walking back to him she pulled up a chair. "I thought we could use some champagne." she smirked, holding the cold bottle against his cheek carefully. It was cold now on the deck too, or at least she felt cold; she wondered where she'd left her coat. "You'll need to get this healed."

>> You look like hell."

Jorge tried to smirk after Gemma pushed him back into a chair on the now deserted dining deck. He agreed with her because he definitely felt like hell. Mittens had hit him, hard. Any harder though that he was sure he would not have a jaw right now. He was almost thankful that the criminal wanted to play first, then kill him later. Still though, he did not stay too happy for long, and immediately his mind delved back into what Gemma had gone through. He noted the blood, the shakiness of her hands, and even the chill in the air. He was sure that it must be cold out here. Then she returned with a champagne bottle.

>> "I thought we could use some champagne. You'll need to get this healed."

“I’ve been hit harder,” he lied and tried to smirk, though the cold bottle was still pressed against his jaw.

He did feel bad about this evening. It was supposed to go so well and then all this madness happened. Mittens took over the ship, crazed gunmen ran about, tossed him and Gemma around and threatened them both. Then, Gemma was forced to shoot someone. Jorge felt worse and worse the more he thought about it, and try as he might to shoo the thoughts away, the prospect scared him. If he continued in this relationship…would he just keep putting her into danger?

Gently he came out of his musings and noted that Gemma still was in front of him, shaky with cold. He looked around for her coat and when he didn’t see it, he pulled off his suit coat and draped it around her shoulders. He sighed a bit as she continued to press the bottle against his jaw and rubbed her arms to shake the cold off. Then he started to button it up to at least cover some of the blood that had ruined her nice dress.

Jorge pulled out a chair with his foot so she could sit down finally. Around them police officers bustled, checking on other customers who had gone through the experience. The night air was cold and biting, which only added to them trying to live down what they had just gone through. Jorge could only watch Gemma, feeling bad for having not said much so far, but really, he did not know what to say. The boat was gently steered back to shore and thankfully they would be off soon.

After he watched Gemma for another second or two, he gently took the bottle and held it himself against his jaw. “Well, so much for a normal second date,” he tried to joke. Finally his face grew serious. “I am sorry about this,” he muttered. “But I’m a cop, unfortunately it follows me home, especially when I don’t want it to. And I definitely did not want to put you through it. I knew the risk, and I still asked you out. Good guy I am, huh?” he smirked a small smirk and shook his head. “I’ll take you home the second we get to shore.”

He wrapped his coat around her. It was a welcome change, warm, and it covered up the bloody dress that got all the strange looks from the policemen and the passengers. Gemma smiled at him. Always the knight in shining armor.

>>“Well, so much for a normal second date. I am sorry about this. But I’m a cop, unfortunately it follows me home, especially when I don’t want it to. And I definitely did not want to put you through it. I knew the risk, and I still asked you out. Good guy I am, huh?"

"Well, my work follows me home all the time" she smiled back, letting him hold the bottle. For a moment, she really felt like opening it. A drink would have been great, after all they'd been trough.
Yeah. Probably not a good idea.

>>"I’ll take you home the second we get to shore.”

Gemma sighed, and looked at him; now she was serious too.

"Jorge. It wasn't your fault." she said softly "It could have been me someone's coming after. Or anyone with powers. And since we're apologizing" she said with another sigh "I'm sorry too. I should have realized my ability is a risk to you."

The ship finally arrived back to port. People were escorted off the deck; the gunmen and Mittens were carried away. Gemma stood, and offered a hand to him.

"Let's go." she said, pulling the coat tighter around herself; it was getting cold "I... probably shouldn't show up at the school drenched in blood." she muttered, glancing down at herself. Also, she really didn't want to be left alone. She didn't need to say that.

>> "Jorge. It wasn't your fault…It could have been me someone's coming after. Or anyone with powers. And since we're apologizing…I'm sorry too. I should have realized my ability is a risk to you."

Jorge watched her closely as she went and actually apologized to HIM for what they went through. He could not believe that she could do that. Not that he was mad or anything, but she had nothing to blame for this whole incident. It was not her fault, but then again, she did have a point. It didn’t have to be Mittens. It could have been anyone with powers who took over the boat. Sometimes people just end up at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He smirked at her last comment and reached down, to gently take her hand. “I knew the risk when I first found out your abilities and I wanted to see you again. You can’t blame yourself for this. And, I guess you’re right, I shouldn’t be angry with myself either. It’s just…when I saw you there, on the floor, and all that blood…” he paused as his cheeks flushed. Instead he let his comment drop and merely squeezed her hand. “I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

It was then that he noticed that their boat had finally made it back to the pier. Officers and civilians were only too happy to get off the boat, while the criminals, both those wounded and handcuffed were forced back onto dry land. Jorge watched them all with contempt, especially the once again large handed mutant known as Mittens, as he was carried out on a stretcher. The man still had not woken up from his blood loss. Jorge waited and made sure that all the players in this crime were taken away before he finally stood to walk Gemma off the boat.

>> "Let's go…I... probably shouldn't show up at the school drenched in blood."

He nodded as he placed his free hand on the small of her back and led her off the boat. He agreed with her. If there were one that those kids did not need to see was their school counselor covered in blood from her second date out with a police officer.

“We can stop by my place, you can borrow another of my sweaters if you want. I’m sorry you have to bear the dress right now as it is,” he said with a small smile.

As soon as they stepped on dry land, Jorge felt all the better. The boat was a bad experience he wanted to simply wanted to forget, and the further distance he put between it and himself, the better. Jorge continued to steer Gemma towards the parking lot, already he could see his car. As they walked, a couple of officers approached who wanted their statements, but Jorge only flashed his badge and shook his head. He would take care of those things in the morning, he simply did not want to put himself or Gemma through this madness anymore tonight.

Once back at his car, he opened the door for her, retrieved his keys from the valet’s station and climbed into his car. He glanced back to Gemma before he turned the ignition and pulled his car back into the street and headed off for his place.

“You know,” he muttered. “We’ve both been through quite an experience tonight. If you like…we can hang around my place for a bit before I take you home. Just to unwind a little and clean off the night.” He knew she would be okay, but it was for his own peace of mind. He really did not want to let her out of his sight.

>>“I knew the risk when I first found out your abilities and I wanted to see you again. You can’t blame yourself for this. And, I guess you’re right, I shouldn’t be angry with myself either. It’s just…when I saw you there, on the floor, and all that blood… I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

"All right, so we agree not to blame ourselves, and that it's none of our fault" she smiled and held his hand "I am glad you're okay too."

They finally got off the boat. Gemma took a deep breath; the air was not really different here, or anywhere else, but just the thought of being on dry land again, and in safety, off the boat and the bad experiences, made her feel that breathing came easier now. She hooked her arm into his as they walked towards the parking lot.

>>“We can stop by my place, you can borrow another of my sweaters if you want. I’m sorry you have to bear the dress right now as it is,”

"That's a good idea." she nodded. The blood was already drying on her dress, and it was sticky and cold, and it made her skin crawl in disgust. "Bastard ruined my dress. He deserves jail for that alone."

>>“You know. We’ve both been through quite an experience tonight. If you like…we can hang around my place for a bit before I take you home. Just to unwind a little and clean off the night.”

"That also sounds good." she nodded; now that the stress was fading, she could feel her hands and legs shake again. She'd been in dangerous situations before. That didn't mean she was used to them.

***

Back in Jorge's apartment, everything seemed strangely familiar. It felt like going home. Lizzie greeted them in the doorway, and got all freaked out by the smell of blood, as her doggie senses told her something bad happened to the humans.
Gemma peeled the bloody clothes off herself, and threw them out without a further thought; she took a long shower, scrubbing herself off, and soaking the blood out of her hair. The hot water seemed to wash away some of the bad memories just like it washed away the dirt. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing one of Jorge's oversized T-shirts, and a pair of pajama pants.

"Sorry for taking so long" she muttered, folding her arms "So, do I look presentable now for my students?" she asked with a small smile as she walked back to the living room.