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Grinning at the girls question, he was glad she was curious. She wasn't about to drop from shock and the event hadn't gotten to her too much yet. "Its because I'm Scottish lass. I came from across the ocean, from my home, to become a doctor." So he might have laid the accent on a little thicker than normal, but she was enjoying his strange, musical accent and he was more than happy to play it up. "I know it sounds odd to wee little lassies like you, but to me, everyone here speaks funny."

That was a good suggestion, actually. He hadn't considered how bad it could look from the outside if someone saw him holding the hand of a girl he wasn't related to. "Aye that's a good idea, the more the merrier." Looking down at the girl and smiling, he gestured forwards with both their hands, "Lead the way then lassie, you're the one in charge."

Letting Devon deal with the phone call, he kept on look out for any familiar faces from the fight. Even now they might try to follow them and find out where the kid lived. Artair was determined that wasn't going to happen.

Only half paying attention to the phone call going on, he spotted a little ice cream stall on the edge of the sidewalk. "So lass, what would you say is your favourite ice cream," pointing towards the stall. Her response was near instant with excitment, "Double chocolate chip! With sprinkles!" Laughing and guiding the group over, he considered only getting one, but now that he was here he kind of wanted one himself.

Ordering two of the most chocolaty ice cream cones he could he turned to Devon, "You want anything Devon? My treat." He did owe the guy after all and an ice cream seemed a good place to start. Once they dropped the girl off with her dad though, he was taking to guy for a drink. He was not taking no for an answer on that.

Artairs' anger had been at a constant rumble for much of the night. He'd never been good at controlling it, of keeping it from boiling over into rage. Sure, he had learned to deal with it better over the years, channeling it into productive places. Recovery, studying, training, all of it had been possible thanks to the fire that burned inside him. Rage got a bad reputation in his eyes. Unrestrained it was destructive and dangerous, but harness it, channel it and it could build worlds. Anger had toppled dictators and ended empires, ripped freedom from slavery and pulled victory from defeat. It could do all that, but Artair's anger was none of it. It was just rage. Pure, burning rage and it was all directed on one person.

This person, this kid had just undone all the work he'd put in to making Kendra feel less nervous. He was getting so close to her opening up and him being able to get through to her. But this kid had decided that a bonnie face was worth spilling blood over. Just as his anger built up to a fever pitch, his mind pulling an image into reality, he heard the terrified voice behind him. It crystallised his anger, turning it cold, harsh and logical. The kid lunged forwards at him while time seemed to slow. Quickly stepping back for room and dropping into stance he pulled the shield into the world.

Bouncing the drunken idiot of the simmering construct, he quickly slammed it straight into his face, bulling him over onto the ground. Stepping up and stomping on the kids hand, he got him to drop the weapon he'd been reaching for. Christ it was a switch blade. Artair was irritated by the fact the moron hadn't even gone at him with a real knife. Sliding it away and increasing the pressure he was exerting with the shield, he turned to the idiots friends. In a low, menacing tone he started with, "Do we have a problem gents?" Whatever loyalty they had for their friend clearly didn't extend far since they'd already backed as far up as they could in the small diner.

"N...No, p..p..please don't hurt him. He's drunk and doin sumfin stupid. Please his mom'd kill us." At least someone had some sense. Probably more than he had at the moment if he was being honest. The urge to hurt this drunken idiot was overriding. The kid had tried to stab over a bruised ego. He needed a painful lesson to remember this, remember what would happen when he f----- with the wrong person. Halfway to pulling out a proper knife, the looks on the faces of the friends shocked him. They were in sheer terror, of him. "Take him and get the f--- out. Last warning." 

Scattering the shield and letting the kids friends drag him away before his shocked mind registered what had happened, Artair sat down hard, not able to look at anyone. Twice, twice he had done this. Twice he had failed his oath. The words 'Do no harm' rang hollow in his ears. "I'm sorry lass. Sorry you saw that." If she was horrified by what he'd nearly done, he wouldn't blame her. She couldn't be more disgusted with him than he was with himself. He'd crossed a line, one he could come back from and he knew it. How could he be a doctor if this is what he really was? A thug, a killer in the making. He'd tried to take the moral high ground with Kendra, tried to get her so see the consequences and he was just as bad. No, he wasn't as bad as her. He was worse.

Sighing, he turned and brought his gaze to meet hers. "That's why we have to be better than them, Kendra. Because when we're not," gesturing sharply at the floor and the discarded knife, "that happens." Rather than continue he just sat, sipping at his coffee, his appetite now gone. 

As she entered with her shameless bribes in full view, she tried to keep eye contact with Becca, she really did. But she had a stare that could fell a cow, literally. She also looked tired, so Cait was fairly sure she was going to receive an ear blistering lecture. Preparing for the barrage of what were actually fair points, delivered with extra volume and swearing, she was genuinely surprised when it didn't. In fact she was a little bit worried about the boss. She was looking pretty fried right now, maybe things were worse than she knew?

Her serious musings were interrupted by the sudden appearance of one of the grumpier members of their little family. Looking a bit worse for wear, Cait was really worried about the state of the person Combatant had been fighting. She might be somewhat, abrasive to deal with, but there was no getting away from the fact she could kick butt. It was honestly pretty terrifying to watch. Fascinating as well, in a morbid, grim sort of way. She was so quickly in and out of the room, Cait barely had time to register why she here before she'd taken a coffee and walked out.

What had she meant by rent? Things were bad, if Becca was taking money from wherever Combatant was getting it. She'd heard the arguments between the two of them more than once. Christ half the city had heard the shouting last time they got into it. "Nice to see she was in a good mood today. I think that's the only time I've heard her speak this week."

Grinning broadly at her question, the scot offered the last coffee to the boss lady. Losing her own seemed a pretty small price to not have the office turned into a swearing match again. Moving to hand off the coffee and cakes, a small, perfect little noise stopped her in her tracks.

Looking up at her from between the ankles of one of the most intimidating people she knew, was a kitten. A little tabby kitten, staring at her with the cutest eyes possible.

"Erm, boss? Did we, did we get a cat?" Her voice had already risen an octave, the little ball of fluffiness still watching her and making adorable noises. The day had just gone from bad to brilliant in her mind, who could honestly feel bad with a kitty in the room. Well, maybe Combatant could, she conceded. But she, she didn't care about that now, or the fact she firmly sat in front of her bosses desk trying to tempt out the new X kitty for cuddles.

"When? How? Oh my god whats it's name? Why is it here? Can we keep it?" The questions quickly got unintelligible and descended into quiet, happy squealing. She might be out of her mind with cuteness, but she tried not to scare the kitten with her screams.

This was not what he'd been expecting. Looking back at the woman he'd talked to earlier today, the way she'd acted and her slight cockiness after her shock had worn off, it was like the one in front of him was a completely different person. The girl sitting opposite was shy and timid, came across as nervous just to be sitting across from him. Either she was pulling the biggest scam on him he'd ever heard of, or the person he'd talked to earlier was just a persona. A mask put on when she felt safer behind her invisibility and anonymity. Even with his recent spikes in paranoia, he couldn't believe the former option. It would take a complete sociopath to play those kind of mind games. Best to try to calmly and patiently listen to her. Artair nearly smiled ironically at the thought, he wasn't exactly know for either trait.

Idly drinking his coffee as she talked, he was glad to get a slightly clearer picture about Kendra, about who she was. To him, where you came from was important. It might not define who you are, but it was a part of what you were. Knowing where people came from, learning a little about their lives helped form connections, helped to make you want to empathise with them. At least that's how he saw it, He was proud of where he came from, his nationality and culture. It formed an important part of his life, a part many had tried to rip away from his ancestors. With how few highlanders there were left, he felt the need to celebrate what was left that much more. Such little progress had been made for his people, even that little had only happened in his lifetime.

It was good to hear about her job though, it was interesting and it said a lot about the lass. She wasn't all mischief and pranks, she did actually care. And she was doing more for others than he did. Maybe he needed to reflect on that some more, he'd judged her fairly harshly to start with. More and more as she explained what she did for the paper he was realising that this, this was the real person. Daydream, as she'd called herself, was the fake. Kendra was a good person, he got the impression she genuinely cared. Artair might not be great at reading people, but he was usually good at telling if they were lying and she, she wasn't. The few times she met his gaze just confirmed it. But that mask she wore while dreaming was dangerous, it had gotten her in trouble tonight. It would have been worse had she pulled this on someone else from Haven too. He got the feeling they would happily report her to Devon. Artair couldn't though. Meeting her had just confirmed it, whoever she was, he wasn't going to rat her out yet.

When she trailed off he assumed her nerves had started to get to her again. Her behaviour confirmed his suspicions, so rather than push too hard he let the conversations lapse for a couple of minutes, giving her a bit of time to work things out in her head. He reasoned that she'd probably open up more once food arrived, that usually got him chatty. Smiling gently as he started, he decided some kindness was needed, "That sounds pretty cool Kendra. Sounds like work worth doing, especially with the bad press we tend to get. Since I've gotten here I'm starting to learn just how out of whack the news is here." Shrugging as he continued, "I mean, it wasn't great back home but here, it's almost like propaganda."

He'd have loved to continue, but the drunk kids in the corner kept getting louder. The one who'd acted so cocky earlier was getting riled up over something. Most of what he was saying was unintelligible to Artair, the lads accent and drunken state blurring the words into nothing. His tone, however, was clearly angry and his friends where obviously failing to shut him up. With everything that had happened tonight, his already frayed temper was already worn thin. Turning to let the little wazzock to shut up, he was greeted by the kid staring daggers straight at him. OK, now it made sense. The kid was jealous. Grinning and winking at him, he turned back to the conversation. So maybe Daydream had rubbed of on him.

As much as she hated spend more time in this sweat box, Raine was right, they couldn't give up so easily. Winter could not come soon enough for her.

Hmm, if she was a creepy man, taking pictures of kids, where would she hide? "Maybe towards the back, where there's less people and less cameras? If I wanted to do some nefarious business, I'd want fewer witness's." 

Walking would help, they could keep an eye out, look out for trouble makers and if they found an errant breeze? Heaven. "Onwards then," she exclaimed what she hoped was heroically, "To foil evil, and stuff."

"Oh god yes, prom was a thing my mum got obsessed over when we moved here, I couldn't get away with skipping it. We did everything just like the movies, dress shopping, trawling for shoes, the talk." Not that she'd needed it, she already been friendly with more than one partner by that point.

It had been fun though and she was glad she'd gone. "Me and a friend went together, her boyfriend had broken up with her two weeks before the dance and I was going alone so," shrugging she didn't really need to finish the sentence. "Turned out to be a great idea. We had so much fun, danced to all the corny music and by the end I didn't have to deal with a horny boy trying to get me out of my dress." No, instead she and her friend had finished the night making out. That had been a bit of a revelation to Cait. A very, very pleasant one.

"How about you? I can't imagine you had any problems getting cuties to ask you." She was being earnest when she said it, Raine was so beautiful, who wouldn't want to go with her?

Blegh. Late nights and early mornings were not a great combination, but apparently the city had decided that the pothole they'd left for six months really needed to be fixed. At eight in the morning. On a Saturday. Well, at least she'd finally managed to catch up on some paper work, emailed back a few clients and gotten up to date on her mission reports. Now Becca wouldn't have any reasons to lecture her, for a bit anyway. Spending the rest of her morning completing various little household tasks and practicing some music, time seemed to pass quickly. By the time she checked her clock, it was already after twelve and she was once again late for her shift at the base.

She'd had to rush over towards the hospital, nearly forgetting the freshly done reports on her way out and causing more than one angry comment on the streets. God, she really needed to get better at this, she thought after the umpteenth bus change, wouldn't it be great if she could go more than a week without Becca's disapproving glare? It wasn't her fault she had basically no free time, between missions and work. At the moment she only just managed to fit in instrument practice with Astrid, not that she would have missed that opportunity. All the grumpy looks in the world were worth it to get to spend time with her.

Upon nearing the hospital, she had the bright that maybe a bribe would smooth things over. Who could stay mad with the pretty girl bringing them coffee. If it didn't work well, hell, she'd still have coffee for herself. Maybe some doughnuts would help. Or cake. Yes cake would do the trick.

It only took a few minutes to get her bribe sorted, a quick walk and elevator ride saw her finally in their secret hidden base. This always made her feel like a secret agent, living some amazing double life. Of course it was mostly just 'holding the fort' or 'patrolling the community' as the others put it. It didn't stop Cait from playing the role. It worked wonders when she was looking for a little human interaction.

Well, this was it she thought. Now was the moment of truth, would her offer of coffee calm the head grump? Knocking on Becca's door she called through to her, "Hey Boss, it's Cait. Sorry I'm late but I've got my reports. Mind if I come in?" She was really hoping the boss was in a good mood. Cait still found her intimidating, even after so many years working together.