>> "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. That’s why Calley didn’t answer: food arrived, and the waiter was there, and he had to lean back. And by the time the guy had left, pizza was more important than anything this woman had to say. Right.

Seriously. A place for his alley cat ways? What was this, a feel-good movie? It wasn’t that easy.

It wasn’t.

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

He picked his slice up. No fork and knife for him: that’s not how a pizza was meant to be eaten.

“So what? I say I want to be reformed, and all is forgiven?”

He wanted his car ears. Human expressions just couldn’t convey that slight backwards angling; that I’m listening to more important noises than the ones you’re making tilt. He had to settle for leaning back with a mere eyebrow raise of amusement.

“You and Cold Steel are so full of BS. ‘Come back to the fold, Calley, you only mauled a fellow team member.’ ‘Don’t look so glum, kid, you only changed a cop to a crustacean.’ ”

And a tail: something should definitely be behind him, curling with casual condensation.

“Why is it that no one ever punishes me anymore? I’m not a good person, you know. I’m really, really not.” He casually examined the pizza in his hand. It did look pretty good. “And you Mansionites better realize that, before I end up killing one of you.”

He didn't want to, but he probably would. Just to be honest, and all.

>>“So what? I say I want to be reformed, and all is forgiven? You and Cold Steel are so full of BS. ‘Come back to the fold, Calley, you only mauled a fellow team member.’ ‘Don’t look so glum, kid, you only changed a cop to a crustacean.’ Why is it that no one ever punishes me anymore? I’m not a good person, you know. I’m really, really not. And you Mansionites better realize that, before I end up killing one of you.”

Now we're talking.
Now he was talking.

"Nah, that's not how it works" she shook her head "Pray tell, what kind of punishment do you have in mind, huh? You think I should ground you? Lock you up? Spank you?" she smirked "Believe me, punishment is in the plan, it was the moment you wandered off. You come back, it is going to be hell for you. You lost Sam's trust, not to mention the police. There are going to be looks, and rumors." she sat back, folding her arms "Nobody's saying anything about you being off the hook for your pretty eyes and pretty ears. In the end, you'll probably wish we'd grounded you instead."

>> “Nobody's saying anything about you being off the hook for your pretty eyes and pretty ears. In the end, you'll probably wish we'd grounded you instead.”

It had been a long day. He’d just gotten back into town, and he still didn’t want to talk about that. He’d just gotten out of the police station, and he definitely didn’t want to talk about that. There were still red marks on his neck where he’d scratched at the collar, and there probably would be, for a few days. And now he had this not-a-mutant, not-a-human chewing him out. Proving just how very, very little she knew about kids like him.

Spankings. Groundings. Oh yeah, those were punishments.

Calley wasn’t sure when he’d started laughing, and he shut himself up as soon as he realized it. But it had felt good.

“You,” he gasped, grinning as he re-caught his breath, “are so. Cute.”

Like anyone could keep him grounded, anymore. Like he’d let anyone lock him up again. The next cop who tried to collar him was getting a lot worse than a lobster form.

Caleb was laughing. If at her, or at the situation, or just to piss her off, Gemma could not tell. But she had to admit, it was kind of annoying.

>>“You, are so. Cute.”

"So are you" she nodded to him with an appreciating smile "If you were hoping for a more severe punishment, you'll have to take that up with Sam. I only do the annoying talking part."

She returned to her food for a while, giving time to Caleb and herself to think. She looked up after a while.

"You are not a kid." she stated the fact. he was not, not by age, not by thinking "Don't try to make me think you are. The only thing I ask is that you accept me for an adult too. Or we can keep playing cat and mouse."

That was kind of fun too.

“Never said I was,” Calley said. His slice was long gone. It hadn’t exactly been a meal, but he hadn’t exactly wanted one. One slice was plenty. He could go hunting later. Or raid the Mansion fridge: whichever. “You’re the one who’s been treating me like one.”

Not that he minded, in general. Kids got underestimated a lot. Overlooked a lot. Ignored a lot, left to their own non-adult non-nefarious business a lot. These could be very good things.

He was just a little sick of them, at the moment.

>> “The only thing I ask is that you accept me for an adult too.”

“Deal. But you have to hold up your end of it.” Calley sipped at his soda, even though it was all gone. The slurking really helped his case. He idly glanced over at her, elbows propped up on the table. “So. What now?”

>>“Never said I was. You’re the one who’s been treating me like one.”

He had the truth of that. Gemma nodded.

>>“Deal. But you have to hold up your end of it. So. What now?”

"You tell me" she shrugged "You called me, I came and picked you up. I would like you to come back to the Mansion with me. But I am not going to force you. You are smart enough to decide" she smirked "Not the you-could-get-great-grades-if-you-learned and could-go-to-college, that's not what I mean before you ask. God forbid that I should try and lecture you and turn you into a top student. But stray cats are usually the smart ones."

And the stubborn.

>> “But stray cats are usually the smart ones.”

...Maybe she wasn’t so stupid, after all.

Calley stared out the window. “You mentioned something about a shower,” he said. “And clean clothes.” So help her if she said anything about the red flush creeping up his cheeks.

“...Does the Mansion have summer classes?”

He was getting kind of sick of being a Sophomore. What was this, his third year?

>>. “You mentioned something about a shower. And clean clothes... Does the Mansion have summer classes?”

Victory.

Gemma smiled, and allowed herself to finally enjoy the taste of whatever she was eating. It was sweet.

"That, and your room" she nodded "We have some summer classes, and if you need to catch up on anything, that can be arranged too."

The boy (a grown-up boy, mind you, is still a boy) was blushing, that was cute. Returning to the safety of the mansion was not the worst thing that could happenen to stray cats. Or tigers.

"Is there anything else you need?" she asked, finishing her meal "Or maybe something you want?"

>> "Is there anything else you need? Or maybe something you want?"

“Yeah.” He said, still staring out the window. “Just... don’t think this makes us pals, okay? Calling you was convenient. That’s all.”

He could have gotten out of jail without her. There were other people he could have called. He could have gone back to the Mansion without her. Wasn’t like the security was meant to keep out small animals, even if Cold Steel was trying to lay down the law. (Pfft.) He could have gotten lunch without her. He could find clothing and showers and toothbrushes without her. Not that he even needed those last three, when it came down to it. He was a self-sufficient cat.

She just made things quicker. That was all.