>> “Nice to meet you, too…May I please have the vegetarian? Except… kid-sized? Please?” [/color]

Mr. Tifka smirked as he looked down at the boy. “Haha, a light eater, are ya? Well that is absolutely no problem. I will get that started for ya, right away!”

Jorge chuckled. “Thanks Gregor!” He then steered Chase off to the side to claim a small table where they could pick up lunch.

Off to the side there was one table that was open and Jorge slid into the seat, Chase across from him, and decided to hunker down in waiting for their lunches. Jorge was actually a little surprised by how good of a day that he was having. Not that he figured that Chase would be a bore or that he was going to hate the child. He had been worried all day that they would never find any common ground to talk about. Thankfully, they managed to find that common ground.

The wait actually not at all as long as one would expect. This deli was surprising fast with their service and before they knew it, Jorge’s order number came up. It took only seconds of him to stand, leave the table, and return with a tray laden with two sandwiches, both of which (even though one was excellent for a junior) were quite hefty.

With a smirk at Chase’s eyes he chuckled as he set the tray down with sandwiches and free sodas.

“Don’t worry, Chase. You don’t have to eat all of it here. We can wrap up what you don’t eat and take it home,” he nodded cheerfully. “Come on, let’s eat,” he said as he nodded to the sandwiches. “Get you all that much more closer to the precinct.”

Chase nodded shyly, letting his gaze swing downward at the deli man’s observation. He wasn’t a big eater, and he ate very slowly. So, yes—to say the least, he was a very slow eater. This didn’t seem to be much of a problem. Jorge paid for the meal and thanked Gregor, before directing Chase towards a table.

The two of them took their respective seats, and Chase sat with his hands before him, fastened onto the chairs edge. He liked errand-running, liked having people take him places, even if it was humdrum errand-running. Chase liked the attention. He fussed with the chair beneath him, letting his gaze lift towards Jorge, a quiet smile touching his lips before he dropped his gaze again.

He was a nice guy. Chase could see why Gemma liked him.

Their number was called, and the detective departed momentarily before returning with the food. Chase eyed the two sandwiches, determining that the smaller one was his, and his eyes widened a fraction. That was a kids’ sandwich?! He’d never be able to finish it. Chase gaped in disbelief.

>> “Don’t worry, Chase. You don’t have to eat all of it here. We can wrap up what you don’t eat and take it home.”

“Okay,” Chase agreed, mildly reassured, “’cuz that’s a big sandwich.”

He didn’t think he’d be able to finish the whole sandwich at the deli. It was enormous.

>> “Come on, let’s eat. Get you all that much more closer to the precinct.”

Chase grinned and removed his plate from the tray delicately, before placing it upon the table. The shapeshifter waited until the detective moved to take a bite out of his own sandwich before Chase took a bite out of his, nibbling at the corner of the immense thing.

“This is good,” Chase remarked, after finishing a bite, “Jorge, do you come here a lot?”

Jorge had laid the sandwiches down. The look on Chase’s face was priceless. Apparently he really did not expect even the child’s meal to be so large. But Jorge knew Gregor, all too well. The man made sandwiches big, no matter what the general consensus on the size was supposed to be. He lived by the code that good food deserved to be served generously. That was why many of the people that left this establishment did so with doggie bags.

It seemed that Chase was going to be joining those ranks rather soon. He nibbled on his sandwich after Jorge had taken his first bite. Instantly the detective sighed. He didn’t know how the man did it, but he always managed to make a damn good sandwich.

>> “This is good…Jorge, do you come here a lot?”[/color]

Jorge nodded with a smirk after he had swallowed. Reaching over he plucked up his can of soda, cracked open the top, and took a sip to help wash down some of the food so that he could talk.

“Pretty often. The guys at the precinct like this place a lot when we have to do all-nighters at the station. They usually ask me to come here to get the food because I know the owner and he gives us all a great discount.” Jorge said with a nod. “Plus it’s right across the street so, convenient.”

Time ticked by slowly but it was not an agonizing effort. They chatted a bit more, chuckled and laughed as they spoke about the events of their day. Slowly they aate their food, heartily, but in the end, neither of them seemed able to finish it, at least Jorge didn’t. He still had another ¼ of his sandwich left. So, he carefully wrapped it up in the paper it had arrived wrapped in, sighed, and turned his attention to Chase.

He sighed contentedly.

“Alright,” Jorge smirked as he eyed Chase and whatever of the sandwich that had been left behind. “You still with me?” He smirked.

Following Jorge’s casual answer, Chase tilted his head, “It’s right across the street?”

His head flicked towards the window almost reflexively, but he couldn’t see much from where they sat. He’d have to wait. Chase returned his attention to the meal before him.

The meal was quite good, and Chase had been hungrier than he thought he was. It was a scenario in which he didn’t notice how hungry he was until food was directly in front of him, but even so, Chase was still only able to down about a half of his sandwich in amidst the conversation, though he polished off the entire soda with ease.

>> “Alright.You still with me?”

Chase nodded, surveying the half of his sandwich that remained, as he announced, “I put a pretty good dent in it.”

>> “I put a pretty good dent in it.”

Jorge smirked as he looked down at the sandwich that was still in front of Chase. There was still a good half of it left. Still, the boy had actually done a lot more than he had thought he was going to do. Chase ate almost like a bird half the time, which actually forced the detective, anytime he was cooking for Chase, to make sure to give him smaller portions than he normally would. But today the boy had done rather well with the portions that he had been given.

Deciding that that was probably the best that Chase was going to do, Jorge smirked and nodded.

“That you did,” he said with an honest grin. “Go ahead and wrap it up. Then we can head across the street to the precinct.”

Jorge had turned back to his sandwich. There was not a lot left, but still too much to just throw away. Quietly Jorge wrapped the sandwich in what was left over of the butcher paper that it had been wrapped in. When it was wrapped securely, and after making sure that Chase had done the same to his sandwich, Jorge drank the last of his soda proceeded to remove the trash to a nearby waste bin. Once the menial stuff was taken care of, he turned back to Chase with a smile.

“Alright, let’s go,” Jorge said cheerfully.

Stepping out into the warm light of the day, Jorge led the trek to the 18th precinct that lay across the street from the sandwich shop. It was actually a pretty unimpressive building. Tall, beige building, with a couple of cop cars parked up front. The rest of them, and staff parking, were around the corner. Other than that, the building would have been pretty nondescript. No one would have known that the 18th precinct was actually a police station if it were not for the glass doors bearing the NYPD shields, and the sign up front that lit up the word “POLICE”.

Once they had crossed the street, Jorge stopped in front of the building and glanced to Chase.

“Ain’t much to look at, but it’s work,” he smirked. He then stepped forward and pull open the glass door for Chase. “After you.”

>> “That you did. Go ahead and wrap it up. We can head across the street to the precinct.”

Chase smiled and nodded, springing to life at the mention of the precinct. Chase did his best to wrap the sandwich, but he was fidgety with anticipation, thus the wrapping job wasn’t at its best. And yet, Chase managed to wrap the sandwich by the time Jorge was through with his soda, and Chase followed the detective over to the trashcan. He disposed of his soda can, the napkins and other items that weren’t being taken home with the sandwich.

>> “Alright, let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Chase agreed. He followed Jorge closely as the two of them crossed the street to the bland-looking building. As they drew closer, Chase could see the telltale signs of it being a police station—cop cars, namely. And as they drew closer, Chase spied the NYPD design on the window. Chase grinned as they approached the front door, his eyes aglow with excitement. A real-live police station! Wow!

>> “Ain’t much to look at, but it’s work. After you.”

“This is soooo cool!” Chase gasped, a little hop invading upon his step as he scurried in through the front door. He paused just inside though, both hands clasped uncertainly around the sandwich as he looked back towards Jorge. He wasn’t sure about this place quite yet, but he was still excited to be there.

>> “This is soooo cool![/color]

Jorge smirked as he followed the boy into the precinct. To be honest, there was nothing special about the place, at least through Jorge’s eyes. It reminded him a lot of his own precinct back in Miami, except of course, for the division that he now worked in. But to the seasoned detective it was just like any other place and did not seem special in the least. But he was looking at it through his own eyes; who knew exactly what Chase saw when he looked at the old, paper filled desk and the uniformed officers strolling left and right.

The detective followed into the building behind him and steered the boy away from the front desk and bade him to follow behind (of course after Chase signed in and received his visitor’s pass). As he did so, Jorge nodded to a few of the passing officers and greeted various other employees at the precinct. The whole way, Jorge pointed out and explained the main departments of the precinct before he finally moved the boy towards another office.

There, sitting at a front desk that almost guarded the door, was the woman that…Jorge did not always care for; Cynthia…the MRC’s, high-pitched voiced secretary. Idly she sat back, typing on her computer and adjusting her glasses before she turned and caught sight of Jorge.

“Detective Cervantes! There you are!” she screeched, though happily. “O’ Niell has been waiting for that report all day! OH! And who is THIS handsome young man?”

Jorge, decided that it was safe to “HEAR” again, smiled politely at Cynthia.

“Cynthia, this is Chase, my girlfriend’s son. Chase, this is Cynthea, head receptionist for the MRC division.” he explained.

“OH! He is gorgeous!” she beamed. “I know what he needs!” she grinned as she fished around in her desk until she managed to procure a sheet of police badge stickers. Their gold foil gleamed in the light and, were obviously not real badges, but they were the genuine stickers that officers gave out when they showed up at school functions. “Here you go, champ! On the house!” She beamed as she gave her a sheet contain six fairly good sized stickers.

Jorge nodded and thanked Cynthia. Though the woman tried to get them to stay longer, Jorge was quick to steer Chase away. The last thing he wanted was to lose Chase to the gossipy, over chatting woman that the receptionist was. Instead he waved good bye to Cynthia and led Chase down a hall that was littered with wanted posters on both side. The majority of them were, obviously, of mutants. Some had visible mutations that were unmistakable. But the one thing they all had in common was the fact that they were all quite dangerous…and were wanted by the law.

“Okay, Chase,” Jorge said with a nod. “Stay close to me, alright?”

They rounded a corner and suddenly they were in the large, open division of the MRC…

Chase’s gaze swam around in awe, smiling mildly as he looked around. While Jorge saw little more than his work, Chase saw the precinct through a rose-colored lens. There were officers everywhere, garbed in the uniforms of policemen, and badges! Chase trailed close behind Jorge, his gaze wandering all over the bustling room. They had their own desks, just like in the movies. So cool, Chase wanted to reiterate. Chase was signed in and given his pass, which only received momentary surveying before Chase was set to staring again. Jorge showed him through different departments, pausing occasionally to say short hellos to the officers that passed. Chase would nod at them shyly, and then scurry after Jorge once greetings were exchanged, trying hard not to linger for too long, not to stare too openly.

They finally came to Jorge’s department, at which point he was greeted by a rather loud secretary. Chase winced at the pitch and volume of the lady’s voice, ducking behind Gemma’s boyfriend for protection. He was excited, but he was also shy, and loud people kind-of scared him. The lady inquired as to who the handsome young man was, and when Chase realized that he was the “young man”, his cheeks colored.

Jorge spared Chase the embarrassment of trying to sputter out a reply, and introduced the two of them. The loud lady’s name was Cynthia, and she was the receptionist.

“Nicetomeetyou,” Chase said quickly, peeking out from behind Jorge long enough to make eye contact, before ducking back again.

The lady went to shrieking about how gorgeous he was, which set Chase blushing again. As she rummaged about in her desk, Chase peeked around Jorge curiously, blue eyes straining towards where the woman had been visible previously. Cynthia sat back up and pulled out the police badge stickers. She held out the sheet for Chase to take, and Chase shyly left the safety of his human shield, accepting the boon with a mumbled, “Thank you.”

He then retreated back behind the detective, staring at his stickers. Chase peeled one off carefully while the adults spoke, before looking around—he spied a police officer, and Chase held his hands out in front of him. Once he’d determined what side the badge went on, Chase put the sticker upon his chest. He was compelled to put another badge on (because if you were a really good police officer, you’d have more than one badge…right? Or was that just for army men?) As an afterthought, Chase decided against it, and folded the sticker sheet up, sliding it into his back pocket. He could wear one each day that week. The conversation ended, and the two of guys departed, setting off down the hall.

>> “Okay, Chase. Stay close to me, alright?”

“Okay,” Chase agreed, just behind Jorge, and to his side. He couldn’t latch onto Jorge like he could latch onto Gemma, because Jorge didn’t cancel powers out like Gemma did. But Chase would still stay close behind him.

>> “Okay,”

Jorge nodded as he took the lead. The office that he led Chase too was actually pretty nondescript. It looked like any other office; the only difference was that this one had cops running around to and fro. The desks spread out were plain, cheap but effective, many of which had stacks of manila folders, phones, and computers that all flashed the NYPD shield for screen savers. Overhead the florescent lamps flickered; one or two hummed with life but one was obviously in need of a replacement bulb that maintenance had never gotten around to.

All in all, the entire place looked rather drab to most people. To Jorge though, this was his job and, though it definitely needed a good cleaning from time to time (especially dealing with some of the mutants that he needed to deal with), he had respect for it. His fellow officers, some sitting and desks, other wandering and busy on their phones, gave him a quick nod and hello before they continued on with their days.

Jorge smirked as he glanced down at Chase but didn’t say anything. The boy looked as if he was already having a grand time and he did not want to spoil it by explaining anything and crushing the illusion that he had built up. So in silence he led Chase to his desk where he stopped and nodded to it, but only after Chase was done marveling.

“Well, this is my desk,” he said with a smile. “Go on, take a seat,” he said as he pulled out the swivel chair for Chase.

His own desk was just as standard as the other officers. His desk did have a few personal touches that distinctly made it his own. A box was bottled water bottles sat underneath his desk and atop it, was two framed pictures; on his mother, father, and sister, and another of himself and Gemma. And, tucked into the Gemma picture, was a smaller wallet sized picture of Chase that Gemma had given him. Jorge smirked again.

“So, how does it feel to sit in a cop chair?” he asked with a chuckle.

It was just at that point that a throaty grunt was heard. Jorge glanced to the entrance and watched as a pair of officer’s shoved in an OBVIOUS mutant. The large, white, furry mutant, with four arms, growled and bared his fanged teeth at each of the officers that were moving him along. Each of his wrists were handcuffed behind his back but that did not mean he wasn’t still dangerous.

Jorge straightened up as the officers move the mutant to a nearby desk for processing. The detective made sure to block Chase with his body before he turned around to face him. Was that a bit of nervousness he caught on the boy’s face?

“You holding up okay?” Jorge asked.

Chase followed Jorge into the office, an awed grin touching his features. The room that they entered was compact and bustling with officers, some of whom were seated at their desks, while others were milling about. Police officers, in police uniforms, doing official police-type things. It was not an impressive sight, but to Chase, this was like a dream come true—he was behind the scenes of a real, live police station. This had to be one of the best days ever. A surge of questions whirled in the child’s head—did they have guns? And handcuffs? Were there K-9 units, did they have their dogs with them, could Chase see the dogs? Had they ever shot anyone? Had they ever arrested a kid, and could Chase ride shotgun in a cop car?

Chase had so many questions, yet when he finally turned his attention to Jorge, he managed to swallow them.

>> “Well, this is my desk. Go on, take a seat.”

“Really?” Chase gasped. It didn’t take much convincing. In fact, the moment that Jorge invited him to sit, Chase was practically climbing into it to sit. Hopefully, he wasn’t just kidding. Chase situated himself in the chair setting his hands on the desktop and looking around with bright eyes, which were a lime green/robin’s egg blue with excitement. To Jorge, this was the desk at which he worked—for Chase, it was the desk where Jorge did official police business. Wow. Chase swung to and fro in the chair, full of the jitters as he looked around.

>> “So, how does it feel to sit in a cop chair?”

Chase grinned, “This is the best! What kind of cool detective stuff do you get to do here? Do you interrogate people?”

The shapeshifter fell silent as heavy footfalls met his ears, accompanied by an annoyed grunt. Chase turned, curiosity getting the better of him, and spied a four-armed Yeti-man being ushered in by two officers. Chases’ eyes widened as he stared openly at the mutant, and the mutant in turn bared his sharp teeth and snarled peevishly. Chase shrank into the chair imperceptibly, the blue-green excitement in his eyes draining, and giving way to tense, uncertain flecks of yellow-orange. Jorge also stared, but turned to face Chase, his form blocking the mutant from view. Chase let his gaze lift up towards the detective, rolling his lips together.

>> “You holding up okay?”

Chase nodded quickly, but his words soon gave him away.

“He looked mad,” Chase observed.

>> “This is the best! What kind of cool detective stuff do you get to do here? Do you interrogate people?”[/color]

The question rebounded around in his Jorge’s head. He had been all ready to answer it when the perp had been brought into the office to be processed. Instinctive the detective tried to put himself in between that criminal and the boy. Maybe it was not such a good idea to bring Chase here but so far it seemed as if the situation was under control. He trusted his fellow officers so he believed that Chase would be okay, but he did not know how the boy would react to seeing such a terrifying sight.

A glance at Chase and it looked as if he was holding it together. Obviously it was a scary sight, but the young boy seemed to carry himself rather well. His eyes, though, gave way to that fact that he was a little scared. Though Jorge could not interpret the colors, he could see that the boy was anxious. What was why he asked him if he was okay.

>> “He looked mad,”[/color]

Jorge nodded with a smirk.

“That’s what happens when they break the law,” Jorge explained. “But no need to worry about him. He is secure.”

He then smirked as he answered Chase’s earlier question and then moved on to pointing out other things on his desk; simple things like where his pens were, the different files that he had inside of his desk, he even pointed out that Chase could move the mouse around on his computer if he wanted to (all the important files and programs were locked). It was then that he remembered exactly why he was here. Kneeling down, he unlocked and opened his file drawer. Moving through the files, he pulled out a basical, manila folder.

“Hey, Chase. Just hang out here and play solitaire on my computer, okay? I need to give this to a friend of mine. I’ll be two desks behind you, I promise.”

Patting Chase on the shoulder Jorge slipped away, exactly two desks behind his on where an officer by the name of O’Neil was, and handed him the folders. Out of earshot from Chase, the two officers discussed matters pertaining to a case in which Jorge had the files for. As they talked, though, a suddenly sound seemed to pulled the precinct to a stop. Jorge looked up just in time to see down to the other side of the room…where the yeti was being processed.

The mutant had screamed and growled so loud and long that Jorge thought that maybe the beast was in pain. It was then he realized that he was…because he had pulled with all his might and actually broken the PCP grade handcuffs that were slapped onto his wrists. Massive, furry arms free, the beast snarled as he shoved the officer who was processing him away and whipped around, striking the other that was trying to intervene. Flecks of foams splattering from his mouth, the beast hissed and smashed a nearby chair before he set his sights back down to the room, directly with Chase in his path of rampage.

“ARRRRGGH!!! I’M NOT GOING BACK TO PRISON!! YOU PIGS CANNOT STOP ME!!!!”

He then charged. Jorge, wide-eyed, dashed forward as his fellow officers began to draw gun.

“Chase!! Under the desk! NOW!!” he screamed.

>> “That’s what happens when they break the law. But no need to worry about him. He is secure.”

Chase nodded at Jorge’s reassurance, smiling uncertainly, but the subject didn’t linger on the ape man for very long. Jorge began to describe what exactly went-down at his desk, pointing out various, official tools that helped Jorge to do his job. Chase soaked up the information as it was given, his attention drifting away from the ape man and towards a matter of greater interest—what it was like to be a detective for the police department. Chase gathered his knees to his chest, sitting sideways in the chair as Jorge withdrew a single manila folder.

>> “Hey, Chase. Just hang out here and play solitaire on my computer, okay? I need to give this to a friend of mine. I’ll be two desks behind you, I promise.”

“Okay,” Chase agreed calmly, reorienting himself so that he was sitting normatively in the chair. Games were always in the same spot on every computer. You went to the start menu, then to programs, and to games. Chase enjoyed Solitaire well enough, so he went there, and began playing a game. His game wandered towards the ape-man, but as Jorge pat Chase on the shoulder, Chase let his gaze drop back towards the screen. It was all under control. Yet, as Jorge left, with each snarl that the ape-man uttered, Chase could feel his gaze being constantly drawn upwards, curiosity getting the better of him. Chase hummed, reaching a dead-end on the Solitaire game and restarting.

There was a scuffle, and the nine-year-old looked up again. There was a yowl as the creature snapped the handcuffs as if they were the plastic knock-offs, thick arms tearing free. Chase might have been only a child, but he knew when it was time to migrate elsewhere.

“Jorge?” Chase inquired uncertainly, edging out of his seat. He was frozen like a deer in the headlights, trying to turn back and look towards the detective, tempted to move, but also trying to duck out-of-view behind the computer screen. The ape-man shoved the first officer back and, as a second one went to grab him, the ape man’s fist connected with his face. Chases’ eyes went an instant, fearful black.

It would be safe to say that the situation wasn’t under control anymore. The shattered chair would testify to that.

The ape-man turned on Chase, and began stampeding forward. Chase went to stand and slipped clumsily, the rolling chair rolling away from him.

“ARRRRGGH!!! I’M NOT GOING BACK TO PRISON!! YOU PIGS CANNOT STOP ME!!!!”

>> “Chase!! Under the desk! NOW!!”

Chase did as he was told, scrambling under the desk and tucking his knees to his chest, and his head to his knees, his heart hammering in his chest. Wide, blackened eyes watered fearfully, but Chase closed them against tears. He wouldn’t cry. Not here. The footfalls were coming closer, like a freight train, and Chase grit his teeth, trying to swallow his panic. How much good would a wooden desk do against a scary ape-man? Probably not much. But it was better than nothing.

Jorge was running faster than he thought he could run. Everything around him slowed down except for his own body. Vaulting over one of the desks blocking his path to Chase, Jorge landed swiftly onto his feet but not before he picked up a stapler from the desk that he had just slid across. Stapler in hand, since his gun was locked away in his car, Jorge hurled the black and silver stapler with all his might. The office supply missile soared through the air before it collided roughly with the enraged mutant, directly across the bridge of his nose.

“YAAARRRR!!!” the beast growled and screamed. Momentarily blinded, he stopped and flailed just before he got to Jorge’s desk. Few specks of metal that were seen reflecting light from his face immediately showed that at least one or two staples were now digging into the disgusting features of his face.

Taking the opportunity, Jorge stopped at his desk just long enough to reach down and pull Chase out. Not roughly, but just enough to tell him that he needed to get up and get up now. Once Chase was up, Jorge quickly took him and ducked behind a corner, shielding the boy behind his back as his fellow officers raised their guns towards the beast.

“Halt, Fossey!” O’Neil yelled. “Or we ‘WILL’ open fire!!”

“Chase,” Jorge whispered from his crouched position to Chase who was behind him. “Stay here, do not get up for any reason. Do you understand me?”

Once he got a confirmation from the boy, Jorge stood up, weaponless (seemingly) and glared at the wild beast that snarled glared between each of the cops.

Fossey (ironically named) sneered as he glared through squinted eyes. All four fists clenched and shook with rage. His mutation, on top of his appearance, gave him a near unstoppable bloodlust. The man wanted nothing more than the break apart anything in his way. It didn’t matter if they were chairs, doors, or people, he would break them all equally. But that did not mean he did not know how to be shrewd when he wanted to.

His arm, moving faster than they could see, shot out and grabbed one of the fallen officers he had knocked unconscious earlier. One large hand grabbed the man by the face and swung him around so that he used him as a shield. As those pairs of arms did that, another pair snatched another unconscious man he had knocked away.

“You’re not going anywhere, Fossey,” Jorge explained in as demanding a voice as he could. “You’re in the middle of the 18th precinct, MRC division, surrounded by cops know how not to deal with mutants. End this peacefully…” Jorge implored not loosing none of his authoritative voice.

Fossey narrowed his eyes at Jorge, obviously seeing him as the weakest link since he was not armed in any manner possible, that he could see. Jorge though, was not completely unarmed. Underneath his desk, the box of bottled waters, several had been broken open in the commotion and now water was forming a pretty expandable pool of liquid that slowly stretched out. Some even extended out, touching both Jorge’s and Chase’s shoes. Jorge instantly sensed in and clenched his fists.

Fossey, though, was not going to heed any warnings. Jorge was blocking the largest window that led out into the street outside. All he would need to do was go through him to get out. His trail in mind, the mutant snarled as he made his move. A sudden swing of his arm and he sent one unconscious officer hurdling through the air directly into both O’Neil and another officer that had guns trained on him. Both went down into a heap as suddenly Fossey charged directly for Jorge.

The detective didn’t flinch though. Jaw set, eyes focused, Jorge suddenly opened both his hands as the water near both his and Chase’s feet sprang up in answer. The liquid swirled upward in a fast cyclone of liquid that not only wrapped around himself, but Chase as well. The water swirled and spun so fast that Fossey, unprepared, screeched out the second his face touched the spinning liquid. It sloshed and raked across the mutant’s face and sent Fossey screeching as it stung his eyes and made him stumble backward.

Jorge focused as he kept the water shield spinning around Chase before he stepped out of his own and forced the water to form several globes that circled dangerously around him. With that, he moved towards Fossey, leaving Chase protected behind water…

Jorge lunged into action, running fluidly towards Chase, stopping by the desk to hurl something at the rampaging mutant. Chase leaned closer to the openinging of the desk, wide, black eyes staring towards Jorge. His face was paled with confusion and fear, but Jorge knew what he was doing—he latched onto Chase’s arm and pulled him out from under the desk, quickly leading him into a corner. Chase followed along clumsily, but did his best not to latch onto Jorge’s arm. He was too panicked to avoid shifting, right now. Chase sunk to the floor, trying to become as small as possible, while the familiar detective fed him instructions.

>> “Chase. Stay here, do not get up for any reason. Do you understand me?”

Chase nodded, eyebrows stitched. Chase realized that, with his back to Chase, Jorge wouldn’t be able to see the head shake, so Chase murmured, “Understood.”

Jorge rose before Chase, while the child sat with his back to the wall, averting his eyes, yet unable to pry his eyes away from the creature before them. Jorge stood before the beast fearfully, without drawing his own gun (if he had one) or anything. Jorge spoke to the man authoritatively as the creature took up cops as human shields, telling him to step down.

The man did not comply, but rather stormed towards Jorge and the frightened shifter, footfalls like thunder, the ground quivering beneath his feet as he charged forward. Jorge rose his hands, as if to stop the ape-man with his own, unaided grasp—

Then things got really weird.

The water that had been pooling closer to Chase (which the child had been edging away from marginally to avoid getting the seat of his pants wet) leapt off of the ground and charged forward, spiraling towards the face of the ape man. The ape man stumbled back as the water assaulted him, and Chase gaped.

Was Jorge…? No way…

The water also surged towards Chase, and the nine-year-old plopped back down onto the now-dry floor. His kneejerk reaction was panic. He couldn’t swim, and now water was closing-in on him. As Chase sank back down, he held his breath and closed his eyes, expecting impact. But the water halted when it was within a foot of him, forming an opaque disk over him. When the splash didn’t come, Chase opened his eyes. And, when his lungs couldn’t contain their breath anymore, he exhaled. He could still see Jorge, and the other detectives, but their images were warbled by the ebb and flow of a shield of water.

No way… Jorge… Jorge was a mutant?

Chase touched the plane of water before him, before withdrawing. It was as though Chase feared that touching the shield would break the illusion, but the water remained. And it was very much real. Chase slouched against the wall, gaining a certain sense of security from being cocooned in water, and watched the confrontation continue onward.

Jorge knew that Chase was safe, which was why he did not turn back to check on him. Given the situation, Jorge needed to make sure that Fossey was gotten under control. He had faith that Chase was fine and would continue to believe such even as he boldly stepped towards the enraged mutant who wiped his face, trying to ignore the stinging water every time he opened his eyes. Jorge glared at the beast, though, fist clenched as the spheres of water surrounded and hovered lazily around. It was obvious the man was in no mood…

Fossey snarled and snapped at the empty air as he whirled about, finally peering his eyes open just long enough to get a full view of the man who was advancing on him. It was the image of such, and the fact that he had dropped his last hostage, that immediately put Fossey up against a brick wall. The beast, cornered, and now facing down a powerful looking mutant, bared his fangs defensively.

“Back off, pig! I’ll rip you apart!!”

Jorge narrowed his eyes.

“The only one of us in any serious trouble is you, Fossey. You’ve damaged property, injured others, and now you are making death threats? End this, or I will end it for you!” Jorge implored. He did try his best but it was obvious that he was not reaching the criminal.

Flecks of saliva dripping down from his eyes, eyes panicked and wide with hatred, it did not take the beast long to suddenly decided to put everything he had into attacking the one man, the one being who looked as if he were the cause of all his problems. Lips curling cruelly, Fossey hissed loud as he reared back and back and raised his fists high.

“Last chance,” Jorge warned…

Two fists swiftly fell towards the detective. A quick step back and Jorge managed to dodge, barely, but he was not fast enough to evade being seized by both of his arms by the creature’s extra appendages. Siezed tightly Jorge was lifted up, where he groaned and struggled against his attacker’s grip. But the beast did not relinquish and instead squeezed tight as he raised his free arms to try attacking Jorge again.

“One less pig in the world!!!” he screamed and suddenly slammed both fists directly into Jorge’s head.

SPLAAAASH!!![/b]

Fists struck…but instead of crushing flesh and bone they broke only through water. The momentum of his strike, suddenly hitting water and air also caused him to momentarily lose his balance. As he stumbled forward, one could see that instead of the body of a detective, all he held was the detective’s clothing, which was not empty and void of the body that had once occupied it. There was a sizeable pool of water now on the ground, though. Water that undulated and suddenly sprang into action.

Quickly the water reached out, forming a hand as it gripped the flailing Fossey by the fur of his chest. Suddenly another spout of water, forming a fist shot out and caught Fossey across the jaw. The beast yelped in panic. It was then that the rest of the water formed the raging, water form of an elemental; an elemental that had once been Jorge Cervantes. The detective/elemental sneered as blue shadowed eyes narrowed and the mouth (unable to speak) sneered.

The sneer sent Fossey to make the stupid decision of attacking again, and stupid it was. Fist splashed through water again and suddenly Jorge took the advantage.

PUNCH-SPLASH!! PUNCH-SPLASH!!! PUNCH-SPLASH!!!!

Each of Jorge’s water fists connected, striking the yeti-mutant hard enough to shake his teeth. It was by the third punch that Fossey finally went down like a sack of potatoes. Crumpling, Fossey’s eyes rolled back into his head as unconsciousness took him and he stumbled straight down to the ground. Jorge finally paused, standing there as he made sure that the mutant was down. When he was sure, he gave thumbs up to his fellow officers and collapsed into a puddle that slithered back over to his clothes. He then solidify and took the form of a regular man again.

Quickly the rest of the gathered officers pounced and slapped stronger cuffs on Fossey and hauled him away to one of their more secure holding cells. Meanwhile, Jorge, now returned to human guise, dashed over to Chase and shooed away the water shield he had put up .

“Chase? Are you okay?” he asked, his face full of concern.