It was sweltering.

Ashley felt as if she were in an oven, baking in a desert. She wanted to badly to get out of the car she was in but knew that doing so would be a mistake. After all, it wasn't everyday that someone broke in to a police car, right? Not that anyone could tell; it looked fairly normal but Puck had seen her target get into the car several times in the time she spent stalking him. And not, she'd finally gotten in, and she was going to deliver him a huge surprise.

Not like she had a choice.

Then again, her morality was pushing her to return the stolen good she possessed. Plus, she was holding what was possibly one of the most expensive pieces of loot in the history of the world; The Golden Jubilee, on loan to the American Museum of Natural History from the King of Thailand himself. Or, so Ashley had found out later, as she really didn't care at the time she had taken the diamond, thinking only 'oooh, shiny' as she took it. But from what she heard on the news, it was worth up to twelve million to the right person, possibly more.

Now, that was tempting. Ashley had never seen what twelve million dollars looked like, nor had she ever dared imagine what it would be like to have that kind of money. But in the end, the one thing that prevented her from selling it...was Agnes. She didn't think her Ladybug would appreciate it if Ashley were to be caught with such a valuable object and would probably object to being lavished with as many gifts as Ashley would bring to her. Agnes, at the very core of her being, was a nice, pure girl. Ashley would do anything to protect that.

So, she forwent the money. She didn't want to get scolded, after all. And most of all she didn't want Agnes to be disappointed in her. The thought alone sent rocks to the pit of the redhead's stomach and it made her feel sick. With that train of thought settled, Ashley tracked down and stalked the only person on the police force that (it seemed) hadn't shot her yet; Santa Cop.

She knew his name. Somewhere in her mind she did, but right now, overheating as she was...he was Santa Cop.

And so Ashley laid back into the car of one Jorge Cervantes, holding a backpack of loot that was probably worth several million more then she'd ever know, and waited for him to finally get into his freakin' car.

Damn it.

Jorge groaned as he rubbed the back of his neck and made his way back to his parked vehicle. The day was long and it was only going to get longer. It was his lunch break, the sun was sweltering and as much as he wanted to relax in the office, he knew that it was not going to happen. There was too much crazy in there from the string of calls they were getting that the detective could barely concentrate on the cases he was already working on. Apparently a pair of nuts had raided and both killed and beat to a bloody pulp one of the other precincts. And not just a couple guys, nearly the whole damn precinct!

Of course to blame was one female that had been on the MRC’s most wanted list for awhile now. A young mutant by the name of Isabel who could manipulate bones. She was deadly and seemed to be damn near bulletproof. No wonder they could not take her down. But that was only the beginning of the mayhem! Riots, thefts, deaths, it was as if all hell broke loose the other night. Now it was time for the clean up.

“Must have been a full moon,” Jorge grumbled to himself as he stalked back to his car, a stack of folders underneath his arm. All he wanted was just a few moments of peace so he could either clear some of these cases or mark them as dead ends.

Not really looking into the back seat of his car, Jorge unlocked the door and slipped into the driver’s seat as he tossed his folders onto the passenger seat. It was even hotter inside of his car. He knew this was only a hint of what summer was going to bring when it came but still…DAMN! Shaking his head as sweat began to dot his gruff, stubbly face, the grizzly detective put his keys in the ignition and immediately revved up the vehicle. It was only when that was done that he flicked on the air conditioner.

Sitting back in his seat, the detective rested his eyes for a moment and attempted to find a moment to relax. It was when he opened them though that he saw something flash by his rearview mirror. Instantly he knew that it was the shape of something very much alive and very much human and his cop instincts took over.

A quick spin…he lashed out with his elbow…broke the cartilage of what appeared to be a nose and went for his gun.

“You gotta have BRASS ones to try and carjack a police officer you piece of sh–“ but he paused.

A closer look at the fiery red hair, the tall frame and immediately his mind was jogged. Christmas…the coffee shop incident…

“Rhythm?” he asked incredulously. “Are you kidding me? What’re you doing in here?” his hand moved away from his holstered gun and turned in his seat to check on her. That was a lot of blood, he definitely broke her nose.

By the time she heard the door open, Ashley was asleep. She really couldn't help it. She was weak from slight dehydration and the heat was murdering her on the spot. In times like this, when she couldn't control the environment, she did the only thing she could; she slept. Back when she was homeless, Ashley would find the nearest dry sport during rainstorms and just sit there, hoping to pass out to wait out the storm. It worked, most of the time (except during winter), ad this time was no exception.

When the door clicked, so did her memory. Jorge!! That was his name!!

So when Jorge finally got into his car, the redhead woke up all the way, her sleep somewhat light, light enough that she was aware of her surroundings. When he turned on the air conditioning she was prepared to set up an altar to Jorge, worship Jorge and convert to Jorgeology. But she didn't have time for all that. She needed to unload all this crap onto him, and she needed to do it fast. Without thinking (a common ailment in Ashley's life) she grabbed the sides of the front seats and pulled herself up, ready and willing to give up millions upon countless millions of dollars so she could have just one more chance with that one girl.

Only to have an elbow meet her face.

Her nose, actually, was the first thing that met said elbow, and she felt it crunch under the powerful blow of Jorge Cervantes's might. She fell back on the seat, clutching the broken cartilage and groaned. Well, there was probably some god out there that was laughing at all of this and, personally, Ashley couldn't blame them. It was probably the least she deserved after her actions, so a little broken nose wasn't anything to worry about.

>>“Rhythm? Are you kidding me? What’re you doing in here?”

The guitarist gave a little hand wave, just to let Jorge know she was all right...despite not asking if she was. Ashley attempted to talk, but the overflow of blood was just to great. One of the bad thing about broken noses; their bled like crazy. She lifted up her shirt and plugged her nose, hoping that would stem the bleeding for a little while while she spoke.

“Santa. Ummm...” she started out, sounding alien and deadpan with her nose plugged. “Explanation? For...my actions? Listen, please?”

She sounded like a idiot with a mouthful of duck. She hoped Jorge understood.

God he had clocked her good. Unfortunately the man was trained for an attack from behind, but apparently he was not expecting there to be the familiar teenager known as Rhythm. Without realizing it, he had struck out, hard and fast into a sensitive spot that would allow him to draw a weapon and subdue his would-be opponent. But, as he sat there, staring at the blood nosed teenager, a immediate pang of guilt struck his heart. He had really hurt her. But at the same time…what the hell was she doing in his car? He had locked it, he always locked it. So…she broke in, but why?

As he watched her stuff part of her shirt in her nose to stop the bleeding, Jorge immediately reached over to his glove compartment, popped it open and pulled out a large wad of fresh Kleenex he had within. Leaning over he handed them over to Rhythm as she began to explain…something…

>> “Santa. Ummm...Explanation? For...my actions? Listen, please?”

Santa? he thought to himself.

Jorge shook his head for a second. So she still remembered him from being dressed up in the Santa costume. Cute, but she figured she would have been able to learn his name. After all, he couldn’t be dressed as Santa all the time. With a sigh he shook his head as he opened his car door. He needed to get her in to see the MRC doctor before her nose remained broken the rest of her life.

“Come on,” he said as he began to climb out. Once he was out, he pulled forward the car seat so she could exit. “You can explain anything you want after I take you to see the Doc. We can’t have you wandering around, bleeding all over my car…even…you know…if it is my fault.”

Jorge sighed as he shook his head. What a way to start a conversation. He had just broken the girl’s nose and now he was making bad comments that she would be bleeding all over his car. That certainly wasn’t fair of him. With a shake of his head knocked those thoughts aside. Whatever her problem was, for whatever reason she felt that she needed to break into his car, they could hold off until the doctor saw her and set her nose right. He would have to treat the situation the same as he treated Carrick. Carrick loved to break into his house just to sneak a sandwich and one of his beers (which he didn’t appreciate at all). Maybe Rhythm just needed attention.

“Come Rhythm,” he said as he tried to gently wave her out. “We’ll get you fixed up.” He said with a sympathetic smile on his face. This city always seemed to need kids who needed help. It’s just a good thing he was happy to do it.

Ashley happily climbed form the car, grabbing the backpack that was probably worth more then her life twice over and slinging it over her shoulder. The pack wasn't heavy, and she knew she should be more careful as The Golden Jubilee was inside, along with several other diamonds and some stature of Ra, or whatever the people on the television called it. Before she closed the door she took two pieces of kleenex and shoved them into her nose. She effectively looked stupid now, but at least it stopped the bleeding.

The redhead felt small and vulnerable in the station. With the effects of whatever was hindering her, as well as the booze now gone and the fierce backup of Isabel herself, Ashley honestly didn't know what to do with herself. She simply kept her head down and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible but knew she failed, mostly because of the amount of blood around her face and shirt. Or maybe they were looking at Jorge, who sure looked apologetic and somewhat embarrassed by this whole ordeal.

“Well now...” Ashley blinked as she looked up to see a tall black man with a bushy beard sitting at a desk. Apparently, while lost in thought, Jorge had lead her to the doctor he was talking about. Her eyes widened a bit and she blinked, looking around the room before her eyes settled back on the doctor. “Looks like we got us a broken nose. Several gunshot wounds that have been stapled shut...a whole hell of a lot of bruises...microfractures in the knees, elbows, fists...Jorge, what the hell have you done to this girl? Aren't you suppose to protect and serve? What's your excuse now?!”

The man's tone was playful and light, and it made Ashley smile a bit as the man got up and walked over to Ashley, lifting her chin and looking into her eye and ears. He nodded as if he approved of something or other before he patted Ashley on the shouolder lightly.

“Go on and sit down on the table, little girl.” he smiled brightly. “I'll be right with ya.”

Ashley nodded, agreeing but took the backpack off of her shoulder and handed it to Jorge. “Here, Santa.” she said softly. “Look, please? I can explain. Just...listen?”

Jorge arched a brow as the young woman climbed out of the back of his car with her backpack in tow. She really did look like hell. Even from his position he could see that she was scarred up, more than likely a bullet wound or two, gashes, and who knows how many other scrapes and marks. What the hell had she just gone through? Jorge was truly at a loss for what to think next. It really looked as if Rhythm had just fought for her life but what could she have been doing to warrant this much harm? Immediately his parental instincts took over as he gently placed a hand on Rhythm’s back and led her into the precinct.

“Oh, my god.” he muttered. “What were you up to?”

Into the precinct they went and Rhythm immediately seemed to get shy and close down. They got looks but to everyone she looked like little more than another victim in need of help. Jorge gave them all a calming look that he was taking her to their staff doctor. That was the closest medical professional. So long as the girl was up and talking, everyone knew she would be fine.

It was once they were inside with Dr. Amos, the MRC resident staff doctor that the news became extremely interesting. With but a touch, the kindly, dark skinned professional saw and related every problem that the young girl currently had. The news…well…it simply astounded Jorge…

>> “Well now...Looks like we got us a broken nose. Several gunshot wounds that have been stapled shut...a whole hell of a lot of bruises...microfractures in the knees, elbows, fists...Jorge, what the hell have you done to this girl? Aren't you suppose to protect and serve? What's your excuse now?!”

“Me? I-I didn’t do any of it, well…you know…except the nose. But…I apologized…” he said in shock. A glance to Rhythm and he shook his head. “Rhythm, what the hell happened?”

>> “Go on and sit down on the table, little girl…I'll be right with ya.”

Jorge watched as Dr. Amos wandered off to grab some much needed medical items in the other room. Once the man was gone, Jorge turned back to Rhythm. He wanted to know who did this to her so he could haul their butts into jail, maybe rough them up first. He did not appreciate anyone picking on a teenage girl like this. What sort of mess did she get into?

Then…just as he was about to open his mouth and ask, the backpack was thrust out to him…

>> “Here, Santa…Look, please? I can explain. Just...listen?”

Curiously, Jorge shook his head as he opened the bag. Maybe there was an answer inside. But the second the bag opened he was immediately hit with the sparkle of many of the gems inside. At first he did not get it. What was in there but as he peered closer inside, his eyes focusing on the sparkling, he immediately recognizes all the diamonds, the expensive artifacts, even…

“The Golden Jubilee?” he whispered as he stared at it in the bag. In shock he looked up to Rhythm, then back down to the bag. “Is…Is this a joke? Rhythm…are you (explicative deleted!)-ing kidding me?”

Immediately the detective closed the bag as he held his hand to his forehead. In shock and awe he began to pace, left and right, trying to stop his mind from racing. Rhythm, the teen that he had just clocked with his elbow was sitting in the precinct with a priceless fortune in her bloody BACKPACK!! His heart racing, Jorge groaned as he leaned back against the wall, eyes tightly closed as he tried to get himself under control. Maybe he should throttle her. He could make it look like an accident! He was a cop, he knew how!

His deep brown eyes turned up towards Rhythm and all there was on his face was a confusing mixture of shock, angry, sadness, and the utter feeling of being lost. It took a second, and several deep breaths, for him to calm down enough in order to speak in a quiet tone and address the girl.

“A-Alright…you said you’d explain. So…explain,” he said a little growly. “Cause I far as I know, these were ALL stolen during the riots and if you had something to do with that…I…” he was at a loss as to how to continue that. Instead, he looked at her expectingly before he finally just spoke in a harsher whisper that was barely contained. “Well?!” Another shuddering breath and Jorge calmed down enough to speak slightly more soothingly. "Sorry. So...y-you said you could explain. Well? It better be damn good."

The redhead really didn't know what to do. Or say. Or anything.

Because at the moment she felt small. Really small. Like she was a tiny little child being scolded by her favorite parent. She backed up until she hit the table she was suppose to be sitting at and leaned back against it, resisting the urge to slip and fall to the floor. Instead she put her arms back and gripped the table tight, hoping to keep her balance as Jorge asked her, quite forcefully, to explain herself.

And so she did. Everything.

It was like she didn't know how to censor herself...which made sense, really. The truth was Ashley didn’t have much need for a censor a she pretty much said what needed to be said. And if there was something that she wanted to say but figured it inappropriate, she hid behind her apparent disability to speak well. She didn't convey complicated things very well, after all, but now, under the scrutinizing and intense gaze of one Jorge Cervantes, Ashley spilled her guts...whatever that meant.

She told him about Agnes, how she met her and how she had fallen for the mutant so quickly she didn't even know what to do as the girl had ran away. She explained he feelings of helplessness at the situation, how her body and soul seemed to burn for the girl but there was nothing she could do. Agnes had left, ran even...and had even taken her motorcycle helmet so Ashley couldn't put it on to smell her scent, as creepy as that sounded.

She explained her depression after, how she felt guilty about Bentley, how she just sat on the sidewalk and wallowed in her own self pity the entire night. How the next morning she had gotten ice cream and ran into Isabel. She explained that they had a past and how Isabel was reluctant but Ashley, so desperate for company and acceptance in something, she basically begged for Isabel to have some ice cream with her.

She went on to the cops that had shot and tazed her, how she had taken the hit for Isabel who was busy poo-poohing the people behind the register to pay attention. So told Jorge, with uncanny certainty, that there was no warning, no preamble, no nothing, just shots fired and that was that. She told him those were the first scars she got that evening, and how Isabel had beaten and killed the cops back and saved her. How she had continued to aid her as the squad cars piled up outside the parlor and shot, with no regard to the fact that Ashley was with Isabel, or injured.

The redhead babbled on about how Isabel had patched her up and fixed her, how gentle she actually was when it came to something like pulling a bullet out of her and stapling it shut. She told Jorge about the bar, Genetically Superior, and how the two just sat there and drank, not really talking but just drinking large glasses of something or other. Ashley explained how she felt better then, with the alcohol numbing her body and Isabel's sarcastic remarks.

And then she explained the veil that seemed to have slipped from her mind.

She told Jorge that it was like something in her mind shut off. At that point in time she couldn't explain it very well. She tried to come up with an example, and told Jorge it was like she knew, KNEW that something she was suppose to be doing was wrong but did it anyways. That there was something in the back of her mind that was screaming and beating on a wall that was telling her to stop but her mind and body decided that it was going to be doing it's own thing and screw everyone else.

Ashley teared up, putting her hands to her head. There wasn't anything she could do.

It was like watching a movie, she said, and she was watching someone else do all those horrible things. All the cops she had broken, blowing up the evidence locker at one of the precincts. Everything she did with Isabel, all the squad cars blown up, all the injured people. And the diamonds. The diamonds and the wake up call the next morning were all so blurry. But when she woke up she knew it all, and felt like such a failure. She ran, then, to the only person who she felt like an anchor but was also someone she barley knew; Agnes.

She even failed to find her.

Coming to the final leg of her journey, Ashley explained that the only person she knew that would most likely have a shred of mercy against her was him, Jorge Cervantes. They'd met previously on numerous occasions, and she thought, with maybe a bit of selfishness in there, that she had once saved many people by taking on the spiky metal guy and had gotten shot by his own police force in the process. She mumbled a bit at that point, but then pointed to the bag.

“I returned.” she said, her voice hoarse and scratchy. “Because...right thing. To do, I mean...” Her tear streaked face finally found Jorge, her eyes wide as a lip jutted out, unintentionally pouting as she gazed at the detective. “Forgive me? Please?”

Jorge had demanded that she explain herself. It was the least she could do after revealing to him that she had a priceless fortune in her backpack, stolen from the city’s history museum, as well as looked like a complete and utter hell. What type of story was he expecting? Not really a good one. The detective had seen a lot of things in his time but he doubted there was any good reasoning for all this. Short of having her brain hijacked by an alien or there being an evil twin that she could prove existed, he really did not know what to do.

The handcuffs felt heavy in his pocket. The cop side of his brain screamed for him to bring her in, to put an end to this madness, but the rational side of him, his gut, told him that he needed to listen. There had to be something in her story. Maybe he didn’t have to give up on her…

It was a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare.

Love. Betrayal. Obsession. The need for interaction. Even the induced debauchery of a single night and the cry for forgiveness in the morning. Her story had all of it. Jorge listened intently, no expression on his face as he took a seat across from her. The man was rigid as he sat there. He eyed Rhythm closely, looking for cracks, flinches, anything that could tell him that she was fabricating her story. She was in enough trouble, she didn’t need to be now lying to the police officers by trying to weasel out of what she had done.

But…she told him everything. And by that he meant…EVERYTHING. She started from a few nights ago when she met a young girl she had supposedly fallen in love with and ended with her waking up after a night full of nothing but crime sprees that would make the most hardened criminal shake his head in surprise. She left nothing out, absolutely everything was spilled…

…and it gave Jorge a lot to process.

There was so much he really didn’t even know where to begin. The fact that was most troubling was that she knew Isabel, a woman who could not be captured by the police even though her file for crimes committed were taller than his whole body. And she was there was the woman killed police officers left and right! Their families, they would be without a parent, or a sibling, or a brother or sister now! All because of some self-righteous belief that mutants were better than them. He could practically hear the tears being spilled. It would be enough to flood the city. And yet this young girl did nothing, she just stood next to her and beat people along with her! Admittedly she didn’t kill anyone…but still…

>> “I returned…Because...right thing. To do, I mean...Forgive me? Please?”

Jorge could only shake his head as he sat there, attempting to absorb everything that Rhythm had told him. What could he do? Haul her in? For admitting everything that she had done at most she could be lucky if she got out of prison before the sun collapsed in on itself! It would be a fitting end to her story and one that Jorge should do. He was a cop after all.

But there was something there. Something that told him of her true and utter remorse, of a girl who just had life kicking her in the teeth. What it was, he didn’t know. How he was so sure she was remorseful was a mystery. But listening to the tone of her voice, the look in her face, the fact that she was doing all for some mutant teenager that she said she fell in love with…all it rang with a sort of truth. At least he prayed it was the truth. Right now was so not the time to play him.

But considering the fact that she was drunk, in Genetically Superior where criminal mutants with an abundance of abilities ran amok, was attacked by his own police officers (AGAIN) and now she was still returning the stuff…it spoke volumes about her. At least…he hoped it did.

A glance over and he saw that Dr. Amos still had not returned. A feeling the cuffs attached his belt, Jorge touched the casing lightly before he looked up once more at Rhythm. As the door opened and the smiling face of Dr. Amos returned, Jorge gave Rhythm one last glance before he closed up the backpack and stuck it under the chair, effectively hiding it from view.

It was stupid…he knew it was. It was evidence, the girl should be under arrest…but there were worse crimes than returning priceless jewels and artifacts that had been stolen. He prayed he made the right decision.

“So,” Jorge said a bit hoarsely and nodded to the doctor. “Can you fix our girl up?”

Amos chuckled, winked and nodded. “To the best of my ability, but you really need to take her to a hospital. She’s lucky she’s alive right now.” He turned and pulled to very long instruments that looked as if they could fit up someone’s nose. He smiled gently to Rhythm and spoke soothingly. “Okay sweetheart, this is going to sting, bad, but I need to reset your nose. Just…” he turned back to Jorge. “Detective, if you can hold her hand, please?”

Jorge nodded as he stood, walked over to Rhythm and held out his hand for her to grab. Please, let this be the right decision…

God her nose hurt.

In fact...everything hurt. Again.

The car ride was silent though, and Ashley couldn't help but feel a bit disgruntled. When she thought about it, she really couldn't think of any reason why she attracted so much trouble and bullets, but there she was. She was still wearing her bloody shirt and her arms were crossed, as were her legs, as she sat next to Jorge Cervantes, the man looking sullen and, in Ashley’s mind, rather impressive in his stoic demeanor. She stole sidelong glances at him, trying her best to ignore the brace thingy that was on her nose.

“Sorry.” she muttered, her lip still a bit pouty as she looked out the window to the speeding scenery below. “For...you know.

She didn't want to ask about what Jorge did with the diamonds, even if she was curious. She didn't want to care, and stubbornly decided not to think about it. Instead she focused on the fact that she was now headed back to The Mansion, and the knots in her stomach wouldn’t let her forget that seeing Agnes there was a distinct possibility.

The redhead sighed. She was tired, ever so tired. She knew that when she got back to The Mansion Jorge was going to force her to see The Doc, and in truth she really didn't mine. She liked The Doc. He was gentle and kind and he made all the pain go away. Granted he'd have a lot to heal through this time and she hoped she didn't overwhelm him.

“Also...thanks.” Ashley sighed, head dipping. “For freeing me. I, ummm...” she made a vague gesture and gave the detective a hopeless look. In all reality she didn't know how to thank him. She just couldn’t manage to string the words together.

>> “Sorry…For...you know…Also...thanks…For freeing me. I, ummm...”

Jorge said nothing in reply except give a barely audible grunt. It was still unsure of how the detective felt about all this. All he knew were the facts: Rhythm showed up, she bloodied to hell, and she was carrying a sack full of museum property. The rest of what he did after was purely out of gut instinct. If anyone else, any stranger had shown up to him carrying this type of stuff, he would have slapped them into cuffs and hauled their butts to jail without so much as a second glance. The law is the law. But this time…instinct told him different.

He knew he could get into trouble. The fact that he did not turn Rhythm in was the least of his problems. She committed a crime and, even if there was a chance she did not do it of her own accord, she should have faced the judge. By taking her out, by hiding the fact that she was guilty, Jorge was putting himself at risk. But…his judgment told him this was the right course of action. He had to believe that. He just did.

Still he did not turn to look at Rhythm. His mind still raced. He would quietly return the stolen goods to the museum and prayed that everything was indeed in there. On top of all that, he needed information on Isabel. She was the real criminal in all of this and that was more important than Rhythm’s misguided attempt to soothe her wounded heart. Information for freedom…that was the only way that he was going to let Rhythm off. And, from now on she would be on thin ice. One single step out of the line and he’d haul her butt into jail. There was no more room for mistakes for her.

As much as he liked the teen, as much as he wanted to help her keep from ruining her life, there was only so much he could do. He prayed she knew that.

Silently, though, he continued to drive towards the mansion. DocProf could help her better than the hospital would. According to Dr. Amos there was a multitude of things wrong with her. He’d fix her up and make her good as new. Jorge was surprised though that the teen could take that much punishment. In a way it made him a little impressed by her fortitude. That didn’t mean he would never arrest her though if she pulled these same stunts again.

As they continued on, Jorge finally spied the mansion and sighed a little to himself. He never been so happy to see that place. Once he was done here, the contents of that bag were going to be returned. In what way, though, he’d never tell her. It was best she kept out of that loop.

Waved in by the guard who recognized him, Jorge pulled his vehicle into a parking spot and nodded towards Rhythm.

“Come on, DocProf will take a look at you.” he said as he waited for her to exit his vehicle. He didn’t want to show anger towards her, but she needed to know how disappointed he was and that this situation was never going to happen again. He made it abundantly clear when they first got into the car that she would never put him in this situation again, or the handcuffs would be back.

This particular jaunt to the infirmary was a familiar one for Ashley. The first time she was here was with Andrew and Lydia, after the Cafe incident with Spiky McMetalbutt. The second was with Andrew again after some sudden pains she had gotten shortly after arriving at The Mansion, pains that had sent her into a near comatose state. And now...well. That Amos person had listed all the things wrong with her, inside and out, and Ashley couldn't really remember them all.

She kept stealing those sidelong glances at Jorge, hoping for him to say something to her that would make him seem less...angry. She didn't know what do do though, nor why she sought his approval so much. She felt like, for some reason, she had let him down and he was disappointed in her. But that didn't make much sense. Ashley didn't know Jorge beyond seeing him as Santa last Christmas and then again when he was interrogating the trio of Ashley, Andrew and Lydia.

The feeling remained though, and it felt like their was a rock in Ashley’s stomach as they entered the infirmary. DocProf looked up form his desk, smiling at Jorge and then taking a look to Ashley. He dipped his head somewhat as he looked her over, making a 'tsk, tsk' noise as he stood up and took the few steps towards them that he needed to be standing in front of Ashley.

“Ah yes. Rhythm.” his voice was amused, if slightly terse, as he shook his head. “I'm beginning to see you as much as Andrew. You two attract far too much trouble for your own good. Go on now, lay on the table. I'm sure you know what's coming, yes?”

The redhead gave a slight nod and went to the table to lay down. The Doc gave Jorge a slight nod and began his procedure, healing Ashley's wounds and giving sounds of disapproval at just about every one. Ashley repeated what Amos said about her injuries to the best of her memory, including the ones on her knees, elbows and fists. She was more concerned about those, as she couldn't fight without them. When he finished with her nose he stood back, shaking his head.

“My lord. How does one person manage to do all that in a single night? I would be impressed if I wasn't so shocked.” He still stared at Ashley, who swung her legs over the table and was sitting, balancing her hands to the side of her legs and had the common decency to look cowed. “Shot, tazed, beaten...though I suppose I can't blame you for the nose.” He looked to Jorge with a wry smile before going to a sink to wash his hands.

“Sorry...” Ashley muttered, realizing she was saying that word a lot today and not liking it. “For...me. To keep coming.”

“My m'dear, it's quite all right.” The Doc responded, turning around to face her and clasping his hands behind his back. “Well, not all right, but all the same. I see you and Andrew enough after your sparring sessions as it is. You need to stop beating that boy so hard. Just because you have me does not give you warrant to making him suffer so, okay? Off you go.”

Ashley hopped off the desk and walked up to Jorge, keeping her head dipped and now avoiding his gaze. She was patched up and ready to go, though she still had that caked blood all over her face and shirt...some even on her pants. After a moment she looked up, her gaze questioning.

What now?

The walk was quick and apparently Rhythm had traveled the path many times before. There was no confusion as to which hall to take, when door to knock on. Even DocProf was not in the least surprised that she was there. Instead there was only that kindly smile on his face of a man looking at a misunderstood troublemaker that needed to be patched up again. It didn’t help Rhythm’s case any that she was so familiar with trouble. He hoped that this would be the last of it. At least until he died.

Again, familiar with the motions, Rhythm shared a quick exchange with DocProf as she walked over to the examination table and laid back. The older mutant was quick to work as he listened to everything Rhythm had been told was wrong, as well as responding to her wounds. His hands filled with a warm, golden light worked over the injured girl, healing all her wounds. Though it seemed that DocProf took a moment to “tsk, tsk” over many of the more silly wounds.

The DocProf could see how she received those wounds. That meant he knew many of her actions last night. Still though, he must have been on the same page as Jorge and saw something good in the girl. Something that told them that she simply needed a chance.

>> “Shot, tazed, beaten...though I suppose I can't blame you for the nose.”

Jorge smirked a little and lowered his head a bit in shame. He still could not believe that he had elbowed the teenager that solidly. Then again, with the way things went she was lucky that was all she received from him.

Saying nothing of DocProf’s statement, Jorge stuffed his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall and watched the man work. It was like magic and before long Rhythm was healed from all her wounds. Part of him really hoped that she had learned her lesson from all of this. She needed to otherwise he may not be able to help her again.


>> “Sorry...For...me. To keep coming.”


>> “My m'dear, it's quite all right…Well, not all right, but all the same. I see you and Andrew enough after your sparring sessions as it is. You need to stop beating that boy so hard. Just because you have me does not give you warrant to making him suffer so, okay? Off you go.”

She knows Andrew, Jorge thought to himself. Well that explained why she was always in trouble Andrew had the inexplicable ability to get himself into trouble. So much so that Jorge toyed with the idea that maybe that was actually what the kid’s mutant ability was, to attract trouble.

Once she had walked up to him, she averted her gaze. He did not know why he was so disappointed in her. It was not that he knew her all that well. Maybe it was just one of those parental things he could never really put a stopper in. He had a soft spot for kids, he always wanted to help them to the best of his ability. It could simply be because of a young street rat he knew named Cobb from back in Miami that he had failed. Either way though, because of that, he always wanted to help those who were younger, not yet adults.

But Rhythm should have known better. She should have.

Noticing the dirtied clothes, Jorge watched her as she looked up at him. She seemed lost. He knew that look all too well when he was 15 and stared at himself in the mirror. The corner of his mouth turned up into a small, sympathetic smile. He then turned to DocProf who had just finished washing his hands.

“Doc,” Jorge said as he walked past Rhythm to speak to the man. “Um, do you possibly have replacement clothes for this young woman here. Don’t think it would do her well to wander around bloodied to hell.”

DocProf nodded. The whole while he was already walking towards a cabinet in the back. “I have quite a few school gym clothes. I’m sure she can find something to fit in.” He waved Rhythm over. “Come on, dear. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Jorge glanced to Rhythm and nodded his head that it was okay to go change. “Go on, I won’t leave you just yet.” He then gave her a small wink as he headed over to the waiting area and took a seat. Casually he grabbed a magazine from the table and began to flip through it while he waited for Rhythm to return.

He smiled. And winked!!

Ashley didn't know why she felt so elated but she did. She tried not to show it, because she knew that a smile from her at that moment would look ghastly, what with all the blood that was probably still in her mouth. She took the clothes and went into the bathroom to change. She noticed the shower and decided a quick rinse was well in order. She'd feel a tad dirty putting on the same panties but decided that...well, she really didn't need them. With a resolute nod she was in and out of the shower in minutes, having learned to do that when she was out on the streets and had broken into the schools to use their showers.

The t-shirt was red with white stripes and was a tad too tight. The bottoms were doctor scrubs, and to Ashley they felt heavenly with how light and loose they felt, not to mention how they hung off her hips. While with Bentley she learned that tight clothes felt good, but she missed the bagginess of her old streetrat clothes. She tied up the string on the belt and tied it before picking up her combat boots and going outside. Her hair was still a dark red mess because she didn't comb it, but that wasn't anything new. She could always brush it out later. Instead she lifted it up into a ponytail and eagerly walked up to Jorge, hoping he was still smiling for her.

She blinked a moment before turning to The Doc and nodded. “Thank you, again.” she said, her voice a bit rough but still clear. “Ummm...see you. Next time, I mean. Sparring with big brother.”

“Yes, yes.” DocProf waved a hand, chuckling. “Go easy on the knees. And tell him if he wants to keep training to do it properly. His shins look like he took a hammer to them!! By god, you two will be the death of me...”

He continued to mutter and Ashley gave a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow before turning back to Jorge. “So...ummm...what now?”

Jorge had decided to wait. He knew that he didn’t really need to. Rhythm would be fine but he promised her that he’d stick around until she done cleaning up. He still could not really figure out why he was sticking his neck out for her. He was an officer of the law and from everything she did that night, that she told him, she should rightfully be behind bars. If she was innocent, she could go before a judge and claim her innocence. Though there was really only so much that she could do to protect herself.

In the end though, he knew that taking her to jail would result in only one thing…she would be steamrolled. The judges, the jury, they will look at the mutant teen, claim she should have known better and let her rot in jail even though she did bring back what was stolen. She still aided and abided a known criminal. And yet…she was sorry. She wanted to apologize all for the simple fact that she was in love and she did not want to ruin the rest of her life, or her chances with this girl.

The whole thing was so convoluted and confusing that Jorge really did not know which way to go. The only thing he could do now was try; try to trust his instinct that this was indeed the right course of action.

He hoped though that Rhythm would continue to work with him. He still needed to ask her about Isabel.

>> “Thank you, again…Ummm...see you. Next time, I mean. Sparring with big brother.”

Jorge looked up when he saw her appear from one of the doors, dressed in a fresh set of clothes. She definitely looked a lot better than the bloodied mess that he had found in the back of his car. She looked refreshed, more human and definitely not as sickly. He could only shake his head silently to himself as he offered her another warm smile. His gut better not be wrong about her.

>> “Yes, yes…Go easy on the knees. And tell him if he wants to keep training to do it properly. His shins look like he took a hammer to them!! By god, you two will be the death of me...”

“You and me both, Doc,” Jorge said with a smirk as he stood from his seat. He set down his magazine and adjusted his coat, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

>> “So...ummm...what now?”

He watched her staring up at him, like a child that desperately needed some kind of approval. The decision was made, he was going to help her, there was no going back now. He had helped her escape a jail cell, he would be returning evidence, and Rhythm’s involvement would disappear from the record. He was in too deep now. But judging by DocProf’s reactions to healing her, his own instincts, he had to believe it was the right move. After all, she did turn herself in. With the amount of money she had in that bag she could have disappeared and escaped from their sight forever.

But she stayed…all for a girl.

“Let’s go,” he said more gently now as he rubbed his hand over his itchy stubble and nodded to DocProf. “Thanks again, Doc.”

“Of course, take care of her.” DocProf said a little enigmatically before he disappeared back to his desk.

Jorge arched a brow as he stepped outside, holding the door open for Rhythm. Once they were outside and strolling a bit more casually down the hall, Jorge finally gave her a glance, his hands in his pockets as he walked.

“So, what now? Well…that’s simple,” He paused as he stood up straight and looked her square in the face. “You came here looking for a girl, didn’t you? You turned yourself in for a girl, didn’t you? You wanna fix her life for her, don’t you?” he waved around the place before he began to walk again. “Don’t you think it’s time you went looking for her?”

He walked ahead a bit and wanted to see if she would follow. Rhythm went through all this trouble because of one girl, so he hoped she would run off to find her and tell her that. Then again, she could chicken out and just come with him and he could drop her off at home. The decision was up to her but he was not going to make her choose. Instead, he paused and turned back to face her. There was one thing he needed to remind her of.

“Rhythm, just remember, you know the terms of your release,” he said a bit sadly. “You need to tell me about Isabel. Everything you know. She needs to held accountable for what she did. Don’t ruin your life for her. Save it for the other.”

>>“So, what now? Well…that’s simple. You came here looking for a girl, didn’t you? You turned yourself in for a girl, didn’t you? You wanna fix her life for her, don’t you? Don’t you think it’s time you went looking for her?”

Ashley stopped in her tracks and clasped her hands behind her back, pursing her lips and thinking again. Everything Jorge said was true. She did everything she did up till that point to make sure Agnes didn't look at her as disappointed as Jorge did when he was staring at her. The knots in her stomachs tightened at the mere thought of Agnes rejecting her, though, but she gritted her teeth and nodded.

“Yeah.” she said, nodding. “Agnes...I need her.”

She didn't know why or how, but she did. In one short moment that girl had become someone she held close to her heart even though she didn't know why. But in the end there was nothing else she could do or question. The redhead smiled grimly. Eventually, she thought, she'd have to look for Agnes directly and find out why she ran and, more importantly, if she would still have the guitarist.

>>“Rhythm, just remember, you know the terms of your release. You need to tell me about Isabel. Everything you know. She needs to held accountable for what she did. Don’t ruin your life for her. Save it for the other.”

Ashley looked up into Jorge’s weary eyes and thought for a moment. Truthfully she didn't now what to tell Jorge. All she knew was her name, where she lived, what she tasted like, her scent, personality and how she liked to swear and kill cops for some reason. And so she did. She surprised herself with all the information she gave about Isabel but she just couldn't see how any of it would be useful.

“Ummm...that's it, I think.” Ashley thought hard, thumping a pointer finger against her skull in a Winnie the Pooh-ish manner. “I mean...useful? Any of that? Like...don't know much. About her, I mean.”