>>“Me? You know, I’ve never considered being a counselor before. What an interesting question. Does that require any special training, or do you just kind of waltz in and start bossing people around?”

"It does require some training" she admitted "And I was a high school coach before, in Baltimore. But... yes, pretty much you just waltz in, cancel powers, and start bossing kids around. You'd be surprised how rarely they resist." she smirked, and when the waiter appeared she ordered lemonade for herself.

The conversations seemed to be falling into a pattern of one question for me - one question for you. She didn't mind that, as long as he did not ask anything inappropriate. As long as.

"But of course it's not for everyone, no job is" she added as an afterthought "What else did you have in mind?"

“In mind?” Calley said, standing his menu up on its edge. He could still be seen over it: it wasn’t that tall. Unfortunately. “Currently... Star Trek. The Next Generation. You a fan?”

Resistance is futile. That’s what came to mind. But he’d just see about that.

“They had this guy called Q. Mutant ability: ‘do anything.’ It was kind of boring, actually. But I guess you’ve kind of got the opposite going on. So how’s that working out for you?”

His birch beer came. He thanked the waiter, and took a sip. Pretty good stuff. Went way better with Italian food than lemonade.

>>“In mind? Currently... Star Trek. The Next Generation. You a fan?”

"I couldn't say I was" she admitted, thanking the waiter for the lemonade "But my son used to watch it all the time. I think he still does. He's about the same age as you."

>>“They had this guy called Q. Mutant ability: ‘do anything.’ It was kind of boring, actually. But I guess you’ve kind of got the opposite going on. So how’s that working out for you?”

"Never a dull moment" she smiled "Not as diverse as shifting people into animals, but beats office work. Talking about shifting, how is that working out for you?" she smiled "Water tiger, huh. Let me guess. Blobfish?"

“Lobster, actually. Goes well by itself, or in a salad. Not as tasty as crab, though, but I am a lowly tiger shifter.” He gave a humble shoulder shrug, with a modest smile.

“So. A son. That’s great. Got any pets?” Pets, he could work with. Or at least, he’d always wanted to try. Just a quick copy and replace. How much did people really know about their slobbering dog? Would they notice a different drip rate? He kind of doubted it.

Though copying an Adapted’s dog kind of threw a wrench in that plan. What with Fido turning into a naked boy when you tried to pet it.

Scratch that. He’d just have to try with Cold Steel’s mutt, one of these days.

“Is your kid a genetic blooper, too?” Sip.

>>“Lobster, actually. Goes well by itself, or in a salad. Not as tasty as crab, though, but I am a lowly tiger shifter.”

Gemma tried to bite back a laugh, she really did. She even managed to bite back most of the snort. Not all of it though. At least it was without the lemonade.
Seriously? The kid turned a police into a lobster?...
This job really had its moments.

"I hope you turned him back, or I'll need to pay him a visit too."

>>“So. A son. That’s great. Got any pets? Is your kid a genetic blooper, too?”

"No pets, but I've got a daughter too" she smirked "As far as I know, both of them are human, but my powers did not kick in from one day to another, so... who knows. "Talking about family, your twin is a mutant too, right?"

He got a laugh out of her. Which got a smile out of him. Until he remembered he wasn’t trying to be her buddy.

Smile. Wiped.

The waiter was back. “A slice of chicken alfredo pizza. Can I get olives on that, too? Got anything cheese-stuffed? Perfect.” There was no point going to a family-owned Italian joint if you were going to order something you could get at Applebee’s. He handed over his menu.

She kept talking. Trying to steer the conversation. It would have been a cute attempt, if it was any other topic.

“My twin,” Calley said, meeting her eyes, “is none of your business.”

“So. A daughter. Older or younger than her bro?” His habitual smile was back. It had very little to do with amusement.

>>“My twin is none of your business. So. A daughter. Older or younger than her bro?”

"Younger and stronger" she grinned "And technically, the other Mr. Swartz is my business, since his is a mansion student just like you. But as far as I know, he had nothing to do with this case, so we'll leave him be, all right?"

There was a load of thing around the twins she could not quite grasp; Gemma made a mental note to do some research later. They did not seem to like each other all that much.

"Why did you turn a police into a lobster?" she asked out of sheer curiosity.

Yes, they were going to leave the ‘other’ Mr. Swartz be. No, it wasn’t her choice to make. But if she wanted to pretend it was, then good for her.

“I turned him into a lobster,” Calley replied simply, “because he wouldn’t let me punch him in the face.” The Italian clearly had his order of operations straight. First: a little harmless face punching. If and only if that failed did he move on to making people into marine crustaceans.

This, he realized with a start, was a conversation about him.

“Why did you bail me out?”

Slight redirect.

>>“I turned him into a lobster, because he wouldn’t let me punch him in the face. Why did you bail me out?”

The conversation was speeding up. The boy was avoiding answers and turning questions around; but no matter how experienced he thought he was, Gemma had years of practice on him, years of practice with snerky mutant and human teenagers, including two of her own.

"It's my job" she fired back with a smile "Why did you call me?"

The conversation was speeding up. No matter how experienced she thought she was, he had years of experience being a snerky mutant teenager. And doing it in conversations where a lot more was at stake.

What was the worst she could do to him? Make a Disapproving Face? This was a sandbox, when he was used to the gravel mines.

>> “It’s my job. Why did you call me?”

“It’s your job. Why did you take your time coming?”

Have a bit of resentment of your own, New Guidance Counselor?

>>“It’s your job. Why did you take your time coming?”

"Is there anyone else who would have come?" she smirked, sipping lemonade "Why did you want to punch the police officer?"

There were so many reasons. So. Many. She knew that from experience, from hearing about it, and from dating one of them. For a brief moment she really hoped it was not Jorge who got shifted into a lobster....
Because a water elemental shifting into a lobster would not be funny at all. Nope.

Gemma snickered, and turned her attention back to the teenager.

Was she snickering? At him? Calley’s habitual smile upgraded to a defensive grin.

“What, you think you’re the only one I could have called? I wanted to punch him because it was a lot more satisfying than punching a little girl.”

He was being honest. Why was he being honest? He usually was, when he gave an answer. He’d been well trained.

Calley sipped his birch beer.

“Where do you see a little delinquent like me in ten years?”

Go ahead, Gemma. Be honest.

>>“What, you think you’re the only one I could have called? I wanted to punch him because it was a lot more satisfying than punching a little girl.”

That was probably true. Whatever could have been said about Caleb, at least he was not punching little girls. Yet. And the police could deal with being a lobster to save a kid. That was their job.

"I know I am the only one you could have called."

>>“Where do you see a little delinquent like me in ten years?”

The kid grinned; Gemma grinned too.

"Anywhere I want."

Grin for grin for grin. The other-other Mr. Swartz crossed his arm, and leaned in across the table.

“Anywhere, huh? What, as in a job? A home? A caring social circle? Is this the part in our ‘talk’ where you try to reform me from my alley cat ways?”

If she were anyone else, he would have popped out a nice set of cat ears to go with that statement. As it was, he had to content himself with a slow, luxurious sip from his soda, and a dashingly raised eyebrow.

>>“Anywhere, huh? What, as in a job? A home? A caring social circle? Is this the part in our ‘talk’ where you try to reform me from my alley cat ways?”

The grinning was over. Gemma was starting to be more serious now. The boy was getting closer to what she had in mind. She was not sure who was leading whom, but they seemed to be going in the right direction none the less. Maybe he wanted to go that way.

"No, not really" she shook her head "I'm trying to find a place for your alley cat ways. I can cancel your powers for a while, but I cannot make you something you are not."

Food arrived. Gemma didn't even remember what she ordered, but it looked good. Smelled good too.

"That does not mean I approve of police lobsters, mind you." she gave him a look "But I think you should probably have a say in being reformed. Works better that way."