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His day had taken a really unexpected turn. Cafas had turned around with a question on his lips, but it was driven away, leaving him just standing slack jawed, face red, caught in an expression of apprehension. He quickly recovered some composure, before losing it again as he fell into relieved laughter. She was wearing swimmers. It didn't leave a great deal to the imagination, but it was still better than he'd briefly thought it might be. "Oh thank god. For just a second I thought you were about to completely strip. Gave me a heart attack." Which wasn't the least of it.

Still, from the sound of it he was going to be needing a lot of careful measurements. That wasn't the worst of it. From there he was going to have to do math. That was just cruel and unusual. The design work alone would be interesting. Then the fittings. Those were probably going to be a lot harder than the measuring. If nothing else it was going to be interesting, and he could think of worse people to be doing the project for. From her description of what she was imagining, he could also see why she didn't want that on the outside of her uniform. It would be a constant hazard, too easy to catch on something, or otherwise restrain her. It was also just an image thing. They didn't need that kind of publicity as a team, and he doubted Becca wanted it herself.

"So a bunch of steel rings attached to a leather harness need to lift you, presumably as comfortably as possible, and in a dynamic range of positions? This is probably going to involve a lot of iteration. It's certainly not going to be quick." Cafas had his voice back, at least for that moment. "Just uh, hang your clothes wherever. Probably don't need the protective gear either. I'll polish the shield after we get this started." The metal manipulator quickly searched around his bench for his pencil He knew he'd just had it. His notepad was just there by the drawing paper. His measuring tapes were dumped haphazardly in an old tin, but he couldn't find the pencil. He scratched his head in confusion, then sighed at himself. Right where he'd left it.

Well at least I didn't ask...

Tape in hand he circled Becca as best he could, eyes flickering over her swimsuit clad body as he tried to form an image for the project; How it would look, where the stress points would be, where it would likely need to take her weight, how to disperse the pressure for comfort, where to put buckles, Maya' face if she could see him in that moment. Becca really did have a point about the lungs. Speaking of lungs, it would probably need to disperse weight more evenly on the front. That presented its own problems. He'd been staring at Beccas chest for a while, trying to think, when he realised what he was doing.

Oops. Pay attention Cafas.

"Uh, sorry." He grimaced awkwardly and started to try and explain himself, "Was just trying to work the design out." The confidence the relief had brought back was starting to fade as proximity and his rather thorough inspection of her body took their toll. He felt a little hot around the ears again. He hadn't been so flustered around a woman in a long while, and he'd been around more than a few in greater states of undress. Maybe it was just how casual actors were about it. Maybe it was the fact he'd considered asking Rebecca out before. "Okay, I have some thoughts, is it cool if I touch you?"

They were going to be a lot closer after this ordeal, he could tell.

Halloween was one of those things that had taken some getting used to. It hadn't really existed in Australia. Oh sure, on the university and club scenes, but it wasn't the all encompassing event that it was in North America. Honestly, it was the sort of holiday Cafas could get behind. Dressing up, partying, carbs, an excuse to spend some fun time with Rowan that was fun for both of them. It just wasn't to be though. His publicist had called him a couple weeks out with a request from Skyline Hotel, who knew he was a local, and were hoping to get him on board for their annual bash.

Funny really; A New York hotel called an L.A. publicist to get them to call a New York celebrity, who then had that same publicist call back the hotel, to accept their invitation to a party he'd attended several times before for free. It was a hell of a relay.

Anyway, their offer had been too much to pass up. They hadn't even bothered offering him any money directly, but instead were going to donate his usual appearance fee to the Mansion. He'd been impressed enough by that to take them up. He'd also been impressed that he had an appearance fee. It was the first he'd heard of it.

So there he was, in the ground floor bar, schmoozing the usual suspects, snapping photos, signing things. Sober as a rock. Funny, he'd remembered having more fun with it previously. With a parting handshake and smile "Thor" crossed out of the room to the lobby in search of air, cape flowing behind, Mjöllnir casually floating above him to keep it out of the way.

Was the costume just a little on the nose after his stint with Ragnarok? Maybe. Still, he'd made that outfit, and it had cost Jagger quite a lot; It seemed a waste to never wear it. Minus the helmet of course. No covering the face, it was in the contract. Still he looked the very image of a Norse God of strength, thunder, and the protection of mankind.

Catching sight of himself in an enormous mirror, the X-man did a double take. It took him a second to recognise himself, but that had been happening all night, having bleached his hair back to a Nordic blonde. It was the odd way the shadow behind him moved, like a beckoning tendril of smoke, that gave him pause. It was unsettling, and he would have played it off as a trick of the light if he hadn't seen it again. Curious, he followed it out into the main foyer. Maybe Maya had figured out a way to make her ghosting black? But she was with Ro at the Mansion party. Wasn't she?

>>"Holy shit,"

Cafas' thought exactly. Was that smoke coalescing? It certainly didn't behave like anything he had experience with, besides Maya, but she moved differently. He could tell her air currents. The X-man snatched his enormously heavy prop hammer from the air one handed, though still using his mutation to move it. "You see that too then? That's something at least. Wanna try and follow it with me?" He didn't know why, but something about it set his teeth on edge. Even if it was just some fancy special effects, he didn't want to go chasing it on his own.

Not even a little.

He was well beyond noticing meaningful looks. Honestly, it was all he could do to keep her steady in his vision.

>>”I like your thinking,”

Oh he liked his thinking too. His hand made to slide right out of discretion when it was no longer holding anything. He blinked down into the empty space, slightly confused. She couldn't have meant the dare, surely? Yet there she was, swinging onto and over the edge in a move that could only be described as promising for the rest of his night. He laughed in disbelief, eyebrows creeping upward, his cigarette bouncing off his chin into empty space, an orange point spinning off into the void.

"No way!"

Yes way, it appeared.

>>”There. Ch-chin up,”

"No ****in' way!" He held out a hand to help her back on. He'd expected her to grab at it immediately, desperate to be back in, but he was really starting to think this one might not be predictable at all. With a scream, she drove all doubt out of his mind. He leaned over to watch her drop when the platform gave a violent lurch, sending him stumbling straight into the rail. If he hadn't been ready to grab her hand, he never would have caught the rail. His foot caught the opposite rail as he tipped. Between the two points of contact, he saved himself a closed casket funeral.

That just set him laughing harder, falling clumsily to his knees still clutching the rail with white knuckles. "You're ****in' crazy! Holy," A string of language spilled out in a cascade of Australianisms and expletives, punctuated the whole way through with laughter. "Alright, fair go, you did it." He put the bottle to his lips and tipped it fully upside down, draining it in one long chug. Little did she know that was probably the most sincere compliment he'd ever payed anyone. When it was empty he sent the bottle to follow his cigarette.

"It's a good thing I'm bi, cos you've got a real big pair tucked down there. Now, you gotta have a drink hangin' there, that's nuts." He fumbled and grabbed the girl's bottle sticking it and his arm out beneath the lowest beam of the rail, trying to get it near her mouth. He ended up with his head and shoulder fully hanging out of the washing carriage. His free hand fished his phone from his pocket, leaving him holding on only with a foot hooked through the opposite rail. "Here, this **** needs a selfie."

Numb fingers managed to grab a series of brief videos as he tried to snap multiple photos. Far below, a scream and angry yelling. About ten seconds.

He grabbed his glasses and fenangled them on to his face. Balancing everything as he was felt a little like juggling, or spinning plates. Not that Cafas had any idea what those felt like. It made everything just that little harder, especially surrounded as he was by metal instruments and materials. With his ear defenders around his neck he grabbed the buffer from the air. The shield was big and regular enough for him to deal with easily.

>>”But if yer nae tay busy, Ah may hae anaither request.”

"I'm all ears." He poured some of the buffing paste onto the shield and set the bottle down.

>>”Ah know ye work mainly wi’ metal, but… hoo comfortable ur ye wi’ leather?”

Cafas ears flushed red as he quickly tried to stifle a chortle. He didn't get hold of it in time. With an eyebrow cocked high in intrigue, Cafas turned to face the blushing woman. That actually caught his attention. His other eyebrow jumped up and joined its pair. "Now Miss Grey, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were flirting with me." The shirtless and scarred fighter flexed slightly, muscles rippling in response. If he wasn't entirely sure the question was innocent, he never would have been pushing it so far. "I'm afraid you're going to have to take that request up with Maya. Fair warning, she can take your breath away, and not just figuratively." He winked, and it did flash through his mind that Rebecca might have meant exactly that. No though, and even then, as if Maya would say yes. But...

Nope, shake that thought out.

Rebecca was really quite hard to keep his eyes off, especially once such topics were raised. Cafas forced his eyes not to drop, and focused on trying to permanently memorise the sidedness of the Magnetomancer's heterochromia. That was his usual trick with her. Or tracing shapes in her freckles. He knew plenty of woman who found him a more attentive listener than most men would agree to.

"I mean, I'm obviously slower, more attentive, and certainly less experienced, but I'm very comfortable working with leather." Who was being deliberately vague? Certainly not Cafas. Cafas was being perfectly innocent, and there was certainly no suggestive undertone to his voice or expression. It wasn't every day he got to make Rebecca Grey blush. Normally that was the other way round, when he let his gaze wander while he thought. He certainly had plenty of experience making those kind of jokes with Maya. It no longer set him all afluster.

"If Thor smashes your shield, I won't even be mad."

Cafas accepted the metal back and started cleaning up the edge. He didn't need to, it just made him feel better. For good measure he floated another bar into the mix, taking off the ink while both block and billet hung in the air. He fused them when it was done and spun it to get a better look. It certainly looked a bit big, but it had to fit a whole Gawain through it and be thick enough to protect. It would do.

"You always have the weirdest requests Bec. Never before have I been asked to fit a man through a shield." He shook his head and started forcing the metal into the proper shape. It went from solid block, to liquid sphere, to domed shield in a few flexes of his mutation. He had to close his eyes to visualise the circle nice and evenly, but only a moment. It was centre handled which just made things easier. After all, it needed to be thrown. He did what he could to start the polish with his mutation, but it just wasn't as easy as it seemed. With another flex he tempered it to the best of his eyeballing, so to speak. It would serve to be sure.

"Bout that long? Polishing, give me an hour tops. I'm free until six when the after school guys let out. I'm really just doing this for fun these days." He shrugged, but he found he missed it. He figured he'd go back to it when he stopped being useful to the X-men. He couldn't see his conditioning lasting beyond forty. That still left years of good smithing. "If you've got places to be I can drop it off for you later. I mean, feel free to hang out too if you like."

The X-man hopped off his bench and grabbed a buffing wheel and his best polishing grits. "Probably best if you put on hearing and eye protection if you're staying though." Speaking of which, he should grab his own. His project and tools followed behind him as he moved to safety up.

Cafas arched and eyebrow in amusement. "All that should be easy enough, but let me get this straight." Cafas fished behind himself for a stack of metal bars. He pulled it around and checked the grade written on it. "You expect me to believe that some magic creature from the lost city of Atlantis, a Greek legend, put your shield into a pocket dimension before being arrested by the Atlantis police and carted off presumably to mermaid jail?" He shook his head and grabbed a rag and a bottle of denatured alcohol. "Now that's a ridiculous tale if I ever heard one. These excuses really do get better every time." He flashed her a grin and got to removing the sharpie from the metal.

"At least you made it back okay." The steel bars were fused into a larger block as he finished cleaning them, impurities falling off as he boiled off the outer layers. It never occurred to him that he could do the same with the sharpie. It was a quick process, he had a lot of experience, and he was holding a solid block of metal in under a minute. He tossed the block gently into the air and caught it, to test the weight. He was pretty sure it was the same as her last one. The Metal manipulator held it out to her. "Here, tell me how the weight feels. Easier to add or remove now than later." He left the metal hovering in mid air, and leaned back on his hands.

"As for reflective, that's less a material issue and more a matter of initial work, then maintenance. I mean, using stainless would cut down on the maintenance side, but it would also make an inferior shield. So, mirror polish right, like Perseus with the medusa, to keep on theme." The metal manipulator watched the steel block, trying to guage for himself how the weight was. Which led him to watching her movements. Which could easily be misinterpreted. He returned eyeward. "That's really just elbow grease and the right grit. I can do it, hell I have the right tools to do it fast, but it's gonna fall to you to keep it that way. High carbon steel is gonna rust if you let it, and that will ruin the finish." Not that he hadn't told her how to look after a shield before, but it was way more important if she wanted to keep the finish. It was going to be a weekly routine so close to the sea, and that was just if it was hung on a wall.

"How is it?"

Cafas jumped at the unexpected patting, finally "finding" the spoon as his own view disappeared. It got to go directly to the dishwasher, being unused. He returned to his breakfast, finding it had seemingly grown in his absence. He felt his stomach sigh with resignation. Still, it wasn't gonna eat itself. He popped another mouthful in. Still hot thankfully. The new addition had provided some insulation it seemed. "I can promise together if you can. Boring might be tricky. I'm pretty exciting." Nom nom nom. He left the long well enough alone. It was probably the biggest ask on the list.

Maybe West Coast. They seem safer.

>>"Have you ever considered... .maybe about adoption? Rowan, I mean."

The hesitation was interesting. Cafas swallowed his mouthful and admired the delightful view in his kitchen. "You mean today? Not yet." He kept eating perfectly casually, but his heart had jumped a couple dozen beats per minute, "But ever?" He swallowed, "Most days, around the time someone offers me coffee." Actually it had come before the consideration of marrying Maya, which he was fairly sure came with a whole bunch of the same rights and responsibilities. It had seemed the more realistic option, much as he hated to admit it. "Problem is, I couldn't adopt him with you." He'd done the research, painstaking hours at a computer that chaffed at his restless nature.

Okay, well, we're here now, may as well actually talk about it. Didn't spend all that time to stand here like a moron not explaining myself.

"Not in New York, anyway. So, I think we could easily argue that Sebastian gave up parental rights by abandonment, and by failing to make himself known to any agency for more than six months." The latter was more tricky, but in tandem with the first it was, far as he could tell, a sure bet. "So I'd only need your consent to adopt him, though citizenship makes that weird, I have a green card, but you know, it's all tricky legal stuff. But I'm a resident of New York so I think I'm covered." His breakfast hung rather forgotten in his hand, "But you'd have to give up your parental rights; Which you don't want to do, and I don't want you to do." He'd tried pretty hard to find away around it, but the wording of the statutes seemed pretty clear, and the lawyers he'd asked seemed pretty confident too. "See, if we lived in Vermont this would be different, but in New York, the way this all works out is that I can't adopt Ro unless... Well unless you're my spouse, legally speaking. Which uh, brings us back to that difficult question from last night."

Cafas shifted uncomfortably. He felt very exposed, and not just because he was naked and maintaining a conversation with Maya all thinly veiled. It had been at least in part his reasoning for asking in the first place, though the excitement at the prospect of a life together had certainly been what forced the issue. He really didn't want Maya to cry again. Their morning had been going so well.