Cafas struggled, and managed to pull himself together. Which was just as well, because having righteous anger levelled at him when he was feeling that bad for it in the first place might just have broken him otherwise. As it was, he gained control back, and lost in nearly immediately. back to the verge of tears. Damn.

Haha, that was priceless, go on, say something else Cafas.

"I'm sorry Calley. You're right to be pissed off. I should have told you, and I shouldn't have gone along with the fake relationship in the first place. I'm not going to do anything like that again, it was stupid, and it wasn't fair on you." They did NOT pay him enough to be hurting Calley like that. They couldn't pay him enough, not with all the money in the world, to make it worthwhile.

Well this is hardly as fun... Oh would you shut up?

"I'll tell you everything I can ahead of time, but I'm not going to know every stupid rumour ahead of time. I know you have trust issues, but could you try to give me the benefit of the doubt? At least until you talk to me?" He sounded pathetic and pleadingly apologetic, even to himself. It was not a tone he was used to in his voice. It had been a long while since He'd needed it.

Cafas set the box down and stepped closer to Calley, wrapping his arms gently around his boyfriend, whom he hoped could find it in his heart to forgive him. "You're more important to me than any amount of money, any stupid career. More important than anything I have." Cafas let the embrace slide back until he could look into Calley's eyes, a hand on either side of his waist. "Congratulations on finishing you finals. I'm proud of you Calley. You've done great, I know it."

Kiss tentatively offered.

Kiss accepted. Slightly more than accepted. Okay okay, hallway door was still open and they were still standing directly in it,, kiss should probably stop now.

Aaaand done.

“So, am I going to meet this Allison before the premier?” Calley grinned a grin that could not possibly be good for anyone. “You think you're getting good publicity now; what would happen if we tossed another man out for the papers to see?”

Had he just suggested a publicity stunt threesome? Why yes, perchance he had. Because it was not the tabloid rumors that Calley minded, per se; it was the ‘not orchestrating them himself.’ Two years, and Cafas still had a lot to learn about Calley-psychology.

Two men at a table, both in a suits. Cafas had insisted on that point. He glared across the surface at the young man in front of him. He looked back down at the notes in front of him, clearly disinterested at what he had just been told. He took a sip of his coffee and kept going. "Yes, alright. Now, I see on your record that you assaulted a police officer and used a mutant power on him. Those are both class D Felonies, Mr. Swartz. How can you expect the NYPD to employ felons?"

Further more, hahahaha, a lobster, classic.

He had another sip of his coffee and rearranged his papers. Really, there were some far better candidates here. People without criminal offences to their names. Granted they were made up people as far as he knew. He could see one halfway down that, on paper at least, seemed perfect. Calley, by comparison, was... Not.

Cafas had taken a whole ten minutes to find a basic record on Calley. It wasn't the best really. but it made him glad the X-men worked so close with the police.

He'd already made his decision, the rest of it was a formality.

The young mutant leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped in his lap, his eyes the most reformed of blues.

"Officer Johnson," he stated, "I know I'm not the sort of candidate you're used to seeing here. I only just graduated high school; I have a past of living on the street, in homeless shelters, and wherever I could find for the night. The reality of it is, though, is that I'm a mutant. For a decent part of my childhood, it was illegal to be what I am; police could arrest me on sight, just on suspicion of my being what I am, and they could do a lot worse when the blood tests came back positive. In the mutant community, that distrust still runs deep; a lot of people don't think the police are on our side. They think we need to take things into our own hands.

"What I did to Officer Drake was inexcusable. But I'm glad I did it. It changed my life; after that arrest, I got back into school. I turned myself around. And when the riots broke out, I stood up for the side I've come to believe in; I stood by the Officers of the 19th Precinct, and I did everything I could to offer my help as a civilian.

"I could join the X-Men, Sir; you and I both know how quickly they can jump the ranks, with the deputization program. I'm not saying I don't agree with that," that's exactly what he was saying, "All I'm saying is, I want to do this the right way. Mutants are not outside of the law. It's great that the Mayor is so open about allowing mutants into the NYPD's command structure, but until we're treated like regular people, we're always going to be... different. I don't want to get a crash course, and be on the streets in spandex; I want to work my way up and earn my rank, earn your respect, like every other Officer who goes through this Academy. I don't want to special treatment. I just want to be able to look Detective Drake in the eye and thank him for how he changed my life; I want to shake his hand, as an Officer of the NYPD.

"So do you think you could find it, way deep down in the bottom of your heart, to give me a chance, Mister Officer Johnson Sir?" The shifter asked, with a final bat bat of his thick brown eyelashes.

What? It was just too hard to keep a straight face, with Cafas on the other side of the table. A pinked-haired Aussie playing a gruff New York cop? Someone needed to pitch this idea to his agent; there was clear movie potential, here. Maybe even a spin-off comedy show.

Cafas's disinterest was very clear. He made sure it was.

Oh look, a pen out of place.

Cafas picked it up and put it back into the pen cup. He straightened some more things; then glanced vaguely for a moment at Calley, as if determining why he was still there at all. A slight frown creased his face as he lent back in his chair and stared at his perfectly immaculate desk. His coffee was getting low too. Damn.

Oh bat your eyes all you like little kitty, I heard what you just said about the X-men.

Sip coffee, just to make sure the pause was long enough that he was getting freaked out. "Mr Swartz, you understand that the X-men are a respected part of the police force and participated in the riots wearing the same gear as every officer out there. Also batting your eyelashes at me will get you nowhere. That being said I would rather you called me sir than the other way round, so the next time I see you in here, you'd damn well better have your uniform on straight and ironed perfectly. I'll be watching you Swartz, you get one chance to prove yourself. One. Are we clear?"

If only the X-men were respected. I feel like somewhere along the line we became a joke. Still, we're necessary, we just haven't had any real work in a while.

Cafas let the act drop and smiled at Calley. "That speech came straight out of the movies, nicely done. Though your assessment of the X-men is just a little harsh on me. Kealey would kill you for the spandex comment too, just so you know. First she would break you, then she would kill you." Cafas smiled and looked around their room. It was back to the original furnishings and a whole heap of boxes, as well as Cafas' bags, the same one's he'd walked in with.

"So, who do you want next?" He knew the speech really probably wouldn't change the views of the guy he was meant to be playing, but how could he resist? "You've got this all wrapped up so long as I'm your interviewing officer." Colon capital 'P' in every word.

“Yes Sir, Mister Johnson Sir,” the pretty little kitty replied, with a smart salute. “Uniform straight, ironed, and eyelashes unbatted. I’m sure you won’t regret this, Sir.”

Absolutely not. Sincere cat was sincere.

“Thanks,” Calley flashed a grin, at Cafas’ assessment. “I basically thought ‘how do I avoid that question?’, and just fleshed it out from there. With a couple of human interest sob-tears for extra diversionary flavoring.” The shifter made sprinkling motions with his fingers for emphasis. Sincere cat. Continued to be sincere.

Another good diversionary tactic was totally ignoring things. Like Cafas’ comment on his harshness to the X-Men. The NYPD didn’t have enough of a mutant presence, or enough trust built in the mutant community at large, to do its job. They needed the X-Men to keep providing backup. Calley knew it, Cafas knew it, and the upper brass at the NYPD knew it. But he’d curled up on enough station window ledges and purred in the laps of enough normal officers on their coffee breaks to know that a lot of people were not happy with the leaps those X’s could make up the command chain, just for being muties. Out on the streets, officers were supposed to listen to their genetically superior advice when it came to mutant-related crimes, and that could rankle people used to working their way up one ladder rung at a time. Especially when the X-Men on scene were barely old enough to be out of the Academy, if they’d been normal officers.

The point about Kealey was valid, though. She would kill him. Break him, then kill him, then bury him in something classy and non-spandex-y just to bring the point home.

“...I’ll cut that line out,” he demurely agreed.

“Next,” the Italian said, leaning back in his chair, “I was thinking... sexy nurse?”

Cheeky bastard. Cheeky, cute, wonderful, sweet bastard. Cafas got up from his seat and threw himself onto a bed. Flopping would be an accurate description of what he did. Then burying his face in the cool pillow for a second. Once that had warmed up, he flipped himself over. "I think I already packed that outfit."

There were two reasons that was a completely redundant statement. One, they had packed everything. Two, he didn't own one. "I could go without the costume though I guess." Cafas flipped himself out of bed, with all the grace he was capable of. Flip was the wrong word though. More like he reluctantly put his legs over the side and sealed the action with a jump to his feet.

Now, in character.

Cafas walked slowly over to Calley (all 4 steps), adopting a look halfway between concerned and seductive. He rested the back of one hand against Calley's forehead, as if checking for a fever. He withdrew his hand with a concerned tut. "Mr. Swartz, what are you doing up? You are far too hot to be out of bed. I really must insist you let me escort you back to bed and get you between some sheets." Sexy and seductive Cafas. He knew some fan girls who would simply die for that.

Cafas picked Calley gently up onto his feet, put an arm around him and walked him over to the bed, where he lay him down gently, fluffing his pillow. Sexy Nurse. Cheeky bastard got what he asked for.