Jorge had answered her question quite well. At least he thought he did. He was not the type of person like that liked to brag or make it sound like he was exceptionally proud of his abilities. On more than one occasion his particular gifts had both saved his life, as well as that of those he was trying to protect. He was thankful for them and the mastery he had gained over the years, but he was not about to just go around and announce it to every Tom, Dick, and Harry he came across. But then again, this was a different matter entirely…so he thought.

Granny Stephens had pretty much demonstrated her rather powerful gift in front of him…or rather on his head. From what he gathered she had to be some type of telekinetic, especially considering how proficient she was at giving him a good wallop with that walking cane. On top of all that she manipulated that trunk to float as if she were little more than a feather stuffed pillow.

>> “This would, if I were male, be the point where I remarked about having a bigger stick, would it not?”

He arched a brow. Repeated what she had just said in his head. He then cracked a smile and chuckled as a loud manner. She definitely had a personality that could not be ignored, nor would he try to. But the extremely funny incident was quickly forgotten when he felt that rather annoying poke with her cane.

>> “Also you...could tell me a bit more. It is courteous to not let me dig for information…”

“Ow,” he mumbled when he felt that first jab.

>> “But I think I can tell you: Not only do I move 'things'...I also stop things from moving at me and others.”

“I gathered such,” he responded with a smile. “You definitely have quite a well honed ability, there.”

He really had to admit that she was definitely a character. He hated to be on her bad side and felt sorry for those kids here whom he knew would get on it. But despite her demeanor, she definitely had a well-meaning streak. From what he could tell about her, she definitely could be a good person at heart, at least that is what he hoped. She was no different than any other well-meaning grandmother that he had run across. Only much scarier.

But, she was right. She had displayed her own abilities far more than he was describing his. So, watching her closely, almost as if he were sizing her up, Jorge finally stepped away from the counter, holding the cloth filled with ice by his side. As he did so, he held the saggy, wet cloth over his free hand and left several drops drip down into his open palm. When enough of it was collected he twitched his fingers and the pooled water immediately lifted off his palm and snaked around his free hand like a long, thin snake made of water. It swirled and interlaced between his fingers before it once more began to coil and coil around itself above his open hand until it form a ball of swirling and churning water. Casually it left it floating above his open hand as he raised the cool ice to his wounded head once more.

“I can move, manipulate, control a large quantity of water, nearly however I want to,” he said as he eyed the sphere of swirling water that hovered. “I’ve also begun to learn how to actually turn myself into water but there’s still a few kinks for me to work out with that one. And that’s about it.” He said honestly.

At his exclamation of pain, Granny gave him a short blink. A blink that said: Oh... A blink that said: Man up a little. A blink that said: Well maybe it was a bit much for you. Maybe I am. Apologetic blink. Indeed. My awesome is too much for you. My stick too big. She even shook it slightly in his direction. Her walking stick.

>> “You definitely have quite a well honed ability, there.”

Well she usually was too much for people. But she took that in stride. She had not become this old to get sorely depressed.“Well now, young man...” This time the address was definitively delivered in a teasing voice. “Considering that I have been doing this since well before you were born I think it is adequate.” Yes. Adequate. She had a set of appendages that were not really there, that were green and that could stretch for about 50 meters. That was kindof cool actually. It was also the only thing that was keeping her old, arthritic self mostly functional. In the mental sense. She could actually do things with them.

“That looks neat.” She conceded to the swirling ball of water more than to Georges actual self. It really did. And that was all the compliment she would give him over it. “I think I haven’t told you what I am going to teach here, have I?” Now she knew she had not. She was old, but not that scatterbrained. She pushed hard at the glob of water with her mind. A green glow sprang forth and gave it the energy of a good slap, which would send it, hopefully, into Georges face. “I...” She announced without delay. “am going to teach Mutation Control.” Swallow that. I can do things. With my mind.

>> “That looks neat…I think I haven’t told you what I am going to teach here, have I?”

“No, I don’t believe you have,” he said with a smile.

Neat? Well…at least that was better than her saying that his abilities were lame. Not that this was a contest by any sort, he could not change what his mutation was or make it appear cooler. He was who he was. And at least Granny seemed to be taking it in stride. Who knows how many mutants she had run into in her time and how many sets of powers she had come across. She was more than likely a hard to impress woman. In his experience, most elderly people were.

But he had to hand it to her that he was thoroughly impressed with her abilities and the level of skill that she seemed to possess.

>> “I...am going to teach Mutation Control.”

His reaction was quick. Sitting there, floating the ball of water in the air, he waited for her to finish her thought when suddenly the water in front of him exploded, or better yet, was slapped in his direction. Jorge blink and would have had a face covered in water if it were not for his own skills with this ability. A small amount of water was easy for the man to control, which he demonstrated almost as if it were second nature.

The second he felt his control over the water give way because of that sudden burst, of what he assumed was telekinetic energy, the detective blinked and instantly…the water paused in midair. It did not splash on his skin or drench his hair, instead the water all just seemed to remain there, floating as if paused in the air. Jorge took a shuttering breath as he peered past the droplets and eyed the old woman as she casually looked at him with a smile.

Another sigh and Jorge pulled the water back into the palm of his hand and let it rest there like a small puddle. There was a lot to learn about this woman…and a lot to be terrified of.

“Well it seems that the school has picked the perfect person for the job,” he said as he turned his hand and let the water spill onto a papertowel he proceeded to pull from the roll. “Welcome aboard.”

No disappointment in her face at his taking her attempt in stride. Not much at least. There was a raised eyebrow though. For a second or two. She then nodded to him. Because not everyone took her in stride. “Thank you, young man. You have good reflexes.” Yes. Another compliment. Which made two in a row. Which, in turn, made decidedly too much compliments for Granny. The other part of the talk was more to her liking.

“Tell her she has great hips. She'll forget about the head then.” There was no need to talk about which she she meant. There was supposedly only one She in this mans life. A She with capital. For sport she said this. As much as for her own good. There cannot be enough revenge. And there cannot be enough men blushing in her presence.

“You have seen them, I trust?” Now Officer: Catch this attack. Note: Had she been younger, she would have added a wiggle of her own mid for emphasis. Now she was seventy-two which came with a certain amount of dignity.

There was no note of surprise or disappointment on the older woman’s face. Her little trick of splashing the water into his face had been thwarted. Instead Granny Stephens seemed to begrudgingly offer him a compliment. Good Reflexes. Well, of course the good detective would have to grin a little in response to that. He was glad that she approved. After all, she was not the only one who had honed her abilities. Moving smaller amounts of water like that was simple for Jorge, half the time it was second nature to him.

Still though, it was a good thing that a woman like her was here to teach these kids how to control their abilities. Sometimes just trying to learn how to use them yourself is not the most effective way. Kids with growing abilities need a guiding hand and while he was sure that there were plenty of instructors here at the mansion that could provide that exact service, another pair of hands should be more than helpful.

But, it was obvious that the kindly old woman was not going to let him go without throwing a second curveball at him.

>> “Tell her she has great hips. She'll forget about the head then.”

Brain paused.

Rewind last five seconds.

Yup…he heard her exactly right. Jorge tilted his head a little curiously as he watched the expression on the woman’s face. It was blissfully innocent yet she knew exactly what she had said. He was…confused and completely at a loss for words. What the hell was he going to say to that? Granted, Gemma did have an excellent body. He still marveled how lucky he was that she could stand to be with a 40-something year old cop who scarcely had a lasting relationship in his lifetime.

And yeah…she did have great hips…

>> “You have seen them, I trust?”

The human brain is amazing. It keeps the body alive, it allows room for memories, holds emotions, inspires some of the greatest thoughts of mankind. And even at this point, when faced with a most shocking and unbelievable question, the brain of Detective Jorge Cervantes processed the words, flipped through a mental rolodex of some of the greatest responses in humankind and replied…

“Huh?”

Jorge was suddenly knocked by to reality by that last question. The curveball was thrown and he got it full force straight in the kisser. The detective felt stunned for a moment as he sat there and stared across the space that separated him from Granny Stephens. Wow she was exactly like one of his abuelitas, but so much more terrifying. It was obvious that she had no real qualms about anything that she said.

Her candidness, though, made him smirk just a little bit, though there was a fierce red blush on is cheeks that was just as pronounced. This woman was going to be the death of him.

“Uh…yeah,” was all he responded meekly. Greater words had never been spoken.

Granny Stephens had seen many things in her own time. Not that her time was finished, mind you, but she had already been on this earth a good while, so she had seen a few things. (These few things included, in case you were wondering, the marvels of things called 'hips' of both genders.) A battle-hardened Police Officer who stood before her dumbfounded and thoroughly embarrassed was a prime though. Not that she minded primes at all. Wonderful numbers those. Indivisible by anything but themselves and one.
Mathematicians got wet-mouthed whenever they were concerned. Only that she was not a Mathematician. Her primes were new experiences. Experiences that sometimes translated into very verbose answers to unasked questions. Verbose answers like:

>> “Huh?”

Brilliant. New experience. Brilliant laugh. Note: Granny was not laughing about our good Officer Cervantes. She was laughing with him. Or rather she would be once the stupor of her charms had worn off him. Or colored him.

>>“Uh…yeah,”

Things got much better even. Meekness from a Cop. They were mostly everything but meek. In almost every situation. This was just delicious. It need not be said that one Granny Stephens was very, very proud of herself this particular instant. Proud and slightly ashamed (What?? Why?). Ashamed because she had rolled over the good man like an avalanche. She usually did. And he could do nothing against her. So far so usual. But also she was feeling slightly for the woman who would undoubtedly soon hear of this very exploit of her older colleague. Or she would not. Depending on how ashamed the good man would be. Nasty moment of thought. She probably could drive the good Officer to the point of tears. But that would not be very grandmotherly indeed. So she settled on a different course of action.

“Good for you.” Granny said, reached up and deigned to pinch out good Officers cheek. Because good boys needed their Granny touches. The smile on her lips was a bit cocky now. “I am sure your children will be wonderful. There will be children, of course?” And marriage, her voice implied. Very much implied. Also: Please do not be ashamed, good officer. Grannies have a right to these things. Its part of our very existence. Thank you. Now, where was that teapot she had seen? Things clattered around her glowing greenly as her mind settled on doing something ordinary. Like fixing the be-headached man a good cup of tea. A good infusion. For health.

Jorge was still in shock over the question. Had the woman actually asked him that? It seemed like such a probing and personal question to ask a complete stranger, but after his mind remembered who it was that had asked it…he was no longer surprised.

Granny Stephens had a old world quality. She came from a generation and was at an age where such things were freely asked. At an age where there was no need for such decorum, she had asked a perfectly blunt and honest question. How many times had Jorge been subject to such questions from his own abuelitas? They loved to pry into his life and pull out as many interesting details as possible. Whether it was just to satisfy curiosity or because they wanted to set him up with a granddaughter, such probing questions were not safe from being asked.

He knew that from experience all too well.

He remembered at the age of twenty-one when one of his mother’s aunts had set up him with her best friend’s daughter. That was an interesting few dates. And it would have continued to have been fun if not for the fact that this particular young lady had divulged every bit of information she had about him to her mother, including the location of suspicious freckle. That was no fun to explain.

Still though, Jorge knew better than to bite back against this woman. After all, what could he really do? He would never win a verbal argument for decency because she was too set in ways to see anything she had said as wrong, physical retaliation was just out of the question, and pleading would only result in more questions of a similar nature.

No. Jorge would bite the bullet in this case. She was a nice enough older woman, if not a bit nosey, but that was no reason to fight ba-

>> “Good for you…”

Ow! he thought as he felt her pinch his cheek. It that particular type of Granny pinch too. The one that was meant with the utmost care and sincerity but at the same time left such a red mark and unyielding pain that he was sure it would mare his face for the rest of his days. When she was done and had turned to gather tea, Jorge had reached up to rub the soreness out of his cheek.

>> “I am sure your children will be wonderful. There will be children, of course?”

K…to…the…O!

Jorge was stunned by that blow. He felt as if Mittens, the large fist mutant he tangled with on more than one occasion, had snuck up in front of him and unleashed a volley of strikes against his midsection. Jorge felt all the air leave his body, his limbs lock up, and was sure that part of his brain had gone numb in a futile attempt to protect itself.

The question rebounded in his skull. Kids? To be honest, Jorge had never really thought of the option, at least not with Gemma. Sure when he was younger the question was always proposed to him by his mother but he had always said that he never found the right woman. And yet here he was now, 40, in a healthy relationship with a woman he truly did love and that idea never popped into his head. To be honest, Jorge didn’t know why. Maybe it was his age, maybe it was simply because Gemma already had two kids. Either way, he doubted that now was really a good time to discuss it.

He cleared his throat as he smiled a bit over at Granny as she continued to gather supplies for tea.

“Um, the topic has never really come up between us,” Jorge finally replied. “But thank you for the compliment.”

Her laughter was a tinkling thing. Coming from her lips easily like rain from a cloudy sky. And with something of the same richness. She had laughed much today. Poor, poor officer in the hands of a very old woman. “I think this horrible woman has embarrassed you enough for today. Don't hold it against me, young man. Us old ones... And thank you for being a good sport. Your tea will be ready shortly. Do drink it. I will see myself settled in.” And with that (and a fluttering of her Granny skirt) she left him standing. A smile on her lips beamed at him before she went out. This woman was, just maybe, a bit too much aware of the reactions she provoked from people.