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Summary: Christopher has Shane and Ahmed over to his place to get away and deal with everything.
Date: October 2, 2012
Log Title: Getting It Out
Rating: PG
Westchester - Parker-Mayfair Home - Living Room
While it's not an excessively decorated living room, it does have all the necessities. There is a large comfy-looking blue sofa with a matching loveseat and chair next to it. The three are all angled around a nice large-screen TV with all the accoutrements. The excess decorating has not been done… for a reason. The owner apparently knows someone else will want to do that.
It's later in the evening and a letter would have been found in Ahmed's dormroom, slipped under the door, requesting his prescience when he has a chance in the living room. For a while Christopher has been sitting on one of the couches while the television plays Chopped. He's half watching the show as he goes through a stack of cookbooks in front of him, marking certain pages in them with different coloured sticky-tabs. There are four piles in front of him of cook books and magazines.
Showing up at someplace outside the school is a bit nervewracking for young middle-eastern Canadian Jewish boy… so to help cover up a bit, he's walking down the street in a set of baggy raver pants, a dark green hoody that has the words 'MISKATONIC PHYS ED DEPARTMENT' complete with logo, hood up, and a pair of sneakers that keep his normally bare, paw-like feet covered. Hands in his pockets, he looks back at the person who offered to help him find the place, and says from shaded eyes, "Hey… I… thanks… I know it's stupid… but I'm kinda scared to be out on my own… even here. So… this is the place?" Nose twitching under the hood as he looks at the house.
Shane, meanwhile, has been all but *intolerable* since Quenton's capture. Whether locking herself in her room and glaring daggers at Amy, fuming at her desk during class, or managing to swear ultramarine streaks in the Art Room over the latest jumbled-up pile of chewed-up cloth and slipped stitches, the single common thread to her behavior in the last week has been one who is about to choke someone… or be choked, should her temper not be the first to snap. "*You're* scared?" she mutters sourly, jamming her hands in the kangaroo pocket of her Cass Cain hoodie, lowering her head to stare at the toes of a pair of scuffed Vans. "Pf. Yeah. This's the place."
Hearing voices out side, Chrisotpher comes to the front door and opens it up. The soft light a glowing beacon of indoor safety. "Ahmed and Shane, come in, come in. I didn't know you were coming along Shane but I'm happy to see you. Are either of you hungry? I can whip up something to eat. Or if you would like anything to drink, I have hot and cold beverages, make yourselves at home." He says letting them in and closing the door behind the two. "My home is always welcome to you."
Those pale and obviously sleekly furred hands don't come out of the pocket until the door is closed, and Ahmed reveals his face, eyes blinking and shifting the cat-slits as he looks around for a moment, "Ummm… nice place." His nose twitches a couple more times as he looks back at Shane, and he then gives a half-hearted shrug, "We both kinda needed to get out… " Without thinking, a wet spot form just under the hooded top, and pretty soon a fluffy snow leopard tail is present behind him, twitching and flicking, accidentally brushing Shane's leg one before his ears flatten some, "Thanks… I could seriously kill some chicken… or some fish… at least raw fish still has the flavor." Looking back at the girl, he adds, "You wanna stay and hang?"
Shane looks over her shoulder toward the Mansion, as if gauging the distance between here and there, and the general hour of the evening. "….'Kay," she mumbles, starting away from the brush of tail against her leg, but making no comment about it. Instead, she edges around Christopher, eyes flicking toward the door every few breaths, then to the nearest window to the street once the door closes. "….Y'sure we ain't been followed?"
"You two are welcome to stay as long as you like, I can either drive you back to the school tonight or if you wish to spend the night I have two spare bedrooms, well they're my sons rooms but they're all away at college." Christopher says as he doesn't mind either. "I don't have any raw fish that's sushi grade so I don't know how good the salmon is to eat raw, but I know I have some left over Chicken Piccata which I can heat up a dish for you." He walks over to Shane and puts a hand on her shoulder. "I can hope you were hon, but if you were, they'll have to get through me first."
Ahmed ends up taking off the shoes, one claw already having poked through the foot… it seems his feral mutation is progressing a bit more with his staying inside his feline shell for so long. A faint muzzle has formed, and his ears are more elevated than they used to be, taking away a bit more from the Thundercat look, and making him seem more like Dr. McCoy. Rubbing the back of his neck, he taps his nose, "I'd've smelled them… I dunno what it is, but I kinda know what guns smell like. Which is weird. Anyways… Mister Parker, you know I can't eat cooked anymore… it makes me sick. Raw salmon, or smoked Salmon would be fine." Sniffing once more, he then gulps once, and looks back at his friend in shared sorrow, "Mr. Parker, please… it's no offense, but we don't even feel safe at the school… let alone on the street." To which he unconsciously rubs at his neck, where the bite-scar remains, "Why did you as me all the way out here?"
Shane nods once to Christopher, then to Ahmed, but continues to glance out the window every so often. "School's fine," she mumbles, leaning against a corner that faces only one wall, glancing from one window to another. "Just comin' out here's a bad idea. Dunno 'f they ain't watchin' from the air 'r somethin. 'F y'hear sirens, stay put, I'll bolt." Pausing, she blinks at Christopher, his question only just beginning to register, and shakes her head. "….Not hungry. Thanks." It would seem that the mouse-haired girl doesn't feel safe in the least, not even indoors, outside of the school grounds.
Christopher disappears into the kitchen for a bit and as he listens to Ahmed and Shane talk he prepares a snack tray for them. Thinly sliced smoked salmon that one might put on a bagel with creamcheese on a plate for Ahmed and then a plate with crackers, cheese and summer sausage for Shane along with a pitcher of ice water. "This building is probably safer than the Mansion. It is not known a mutant lives here and probably under less surveillance than the school. Also I may not be an X-Man but I certain have the abilities of one. "If you two wish I could take you back to the mansion right now and we can forget about what I'm trying to do. I know you both are tense and staying cooped up in your room, inside that school, isn't going to help. In fact it might make you sick or worse. I'm worried for every single one of them, and I know Quenton is your boyfriend Shane and I know Nicholas is your roommate Ahmed. Which is part of the reason I asked you out here was because I felt you needed to get out of the school and do something that you enjoy to get your mind off of things. Both of you." He motions to the cookbooks in the stacks in front of him. "Now what I wanted to offer to you Ahmed, is a cooking weekend. YOu stay here all day Saturday, and Sunday if you wish, and we do nothing but cook. I've been picking out some recipes I thought might look interesting and wanted your opinions on what to cook and bake. I need to know what to buy for this weekend. Shane." He says turning to her. "You are more than welcome to join us in cooking or if you wish I can go into the city and get any materials you need and you can bring your sewing machine here, or use mine, and just try to do something. I know you're worried, both of you, and I'm not asking you to stop worrying, I'm just trying to help you both not fall to far down this dark place you're in."
One of Ahmed's ears flicks a few times, and his tail gives a quick lash as he fucks his head slightly, and looks around the place for a few moments, before he finally says, "Wow… I uhhh…" The nervousness shows in his tail more than the rest of his, the flitter-flit of the tip, before he continues on, "I suppose… I mean it's not like I'm going anyplace. I can't go to town for temple… I don't want anyone in danger there. You don't understand though… I'm scared because… part of me WANTS them to try something." Sad eyes look back at Shane, something passing there, "We're supposed to stay put, to keep our heads down, to be QUIET… and… it's not fair. We're… I mean…" And then he says, "I don't even LIKE Q-ball all that much but this is bunk. I know people are out there trying to get info, to help… but all this waiting is total bunk. But there's this chunk of me that wants to let the beast out, and let someone else be at claw's end."
"Yeah well have fun with that," Shane snaps, raising her head to stare at the feline student. "Guess y'don't watch th'news, cos if y'did you'd already know how that works out. So lemme make it simple; y'think you're scared now? See what happens when TV's callin' you a terrorist, 'n spreadin' your face around. 'N then realize that *nobody's* gonna believe different, cos TV said so. Doesn't even fuckin' *matter* if anyone was holdin' a fuckin' knife t'y'neck, or havin' three people hold y'ass down so's you could be a hostage. Nope. TV says terrorist, so you're *fucked.*" Raking a hand through her hair, she turns, then looks over at her shoulder, eyes dull and tired. "…Worried's only half of it, Mr. Parker. I know this dance. Only now there's guns 'n cops joinin' in too." Letting out a long, shuddery breath, she cranes her neck, looking down the hall. "Bathroom's this way, right?" Without waiting for an answer, she makes her way down, her step eerily light for the lack of heavy armored boo
Without waiting for an answer, she makes her way down, her step eerily light for the lack of heavy armored boots to clomp with.
Christopher goes back into the kitchen and returns shortly with a cup of coffee, listening to Ahmed speak the entire time. He sits down on the couch and let's Ahmed and Shane finish speaking before speaking up himself. "You don't think that I want to be out there finding out answers myself and hurting those that have hurt of all you. I wish I could be doing that with all of my heart Ahmed. You kids mean the world to me, all of you, and when some of them get hurt, I want to protect you all. But I know I can't and I have to deal with the fear and the anger by keeping busy. I'm asking you to let me help you get through this." He then looks down the hall where Shane walks down. "Shane, honey…" But he doesn't want to interrupt her if she's doing her business. "There's always a light at the end of the tunnel. No matter how dark it is."
Ahmed's tail gets to a heavy lashing when Shane goes clomping off like that, despite the lack of boots, and taking to his native floor-sitter status, he grumps out, "And she wonder why I hang out as a cat so often… when you can't speak, you don't have to say much." Legs curled to his chest, he rests his almost feline head on his knees, tail curled over his feet, "You know, back home… why a lot of the people there didn't come to the US? It was because of bullsh-… stuff like this. It's like people here LOOK for a reason to hate. At least in Canada the Alpha Flight program is out in the open. But like… how many Avengers are mutants? Hardly any." He shakes his head and looks back towards the bathroom, "Don't take her attitude to heart… I've seen like her before. There's a point where you don't see the safety, you just see the cage. And everything outside looks like something that wants to hurt you, or make you feel hurt." He adds with a soft snort from his more feline-like nose, "I just… I know she and I don't get along, but I wish I could show her I know where she is… that she's not alone. And that there's always a light at the end. My aunts sometimes would say when the community got together that happiness is that thing you find when you don't know you were looking for it."
Silence from the other side of the door, as Shane leans against the bathroom counter elbows on either side of the sink and her face in her hands. After a moment's barely-audible, shuddery breathing, the sink starts to run, the sound of water splashed against a face is heard, and after a bit Shane emerges into the hallway, eyes only a little puffy. "…Sorry," she mumbles to Christopher. "…Can I have a soda?"
Christopher walks over to television and grabs one of the framed pictures that rests on top before handing it to Ahmed. It's a picture of a much younger Christopher in his early twenties in the arms of a much older man, both smiling happily. "That's David. We were together for a few years and then, someone didn't like that he was gay and, that was that. They took my David away from the world. I know what hate can do, I've felt it, but also in this country are communities who can be more supportive than you can imagine. For as much hate there is good. For everyone out there saying something horrible about mutants, there is at least someone who feels opposite. It's just harder cause those filled with love are usually at lot less outspoken than those who hate." He says and when Shane comes out of the kitchen he walks over to her and just wraps her in a big hug, holding her tightly in his arms. "Sure, and don't be sorry." He says walking her to the kitchen so she can pick out the soda, or sparkling fruit beverage, of her choice. "I've seen the ugly of this world, more times than you have, but you have to hold onto the faith that things aren't always dark. If you don't, it'll tear you up inside."
"I'm sorry… I know that people who are… well… guys who like guys, or girls who like girls aren't really welcome in places like where my family is. Mutants got added, because of the fear. Most of the people who live there have come from the middle east to get away from the fear and raise families, to get a second chance. But the fear follows them, and they can't shake it." Ahmed waxes on as he looks off and away for a few moments, tailtip fluttering a few times before he says, "Oh… I learned a new one while I was watching you play one of your games, Shane… you mind if I show you both? I've been having more time to practice with the goop in…" Dropping the 'private' before it depresses him more, and continues on, "Anyways… I always suck at details, and I thought you might give me some pointers…"
"Not if you're used to it," Shane says in a soft, quivering whisper, passively accepting the hug for a few heartbeats before squirming away. "…'N thanks for th'soda," she says more audibly, moving away to turn her back against the nearest wall. "…Uh," she says after Ahmed's question, raising an eyebrow. "…I guess?"
Christopher shakes his head at Shane with a kind smile on his face. "Honey, you never get used to it. You just learn to manage it, find what keeps you busy to keep you from losing it too much. And the hardest part, learning not to feel guilty for not being able to rush out blindly and help your loved one." He looks at Ahmed and raises his eyebrow. "You can show me only if you start helping me pick out recipes for this weekend." He chuckles only jesting in his comment.
Ahmed unzips the hoodie and shifts it off his shoulders, showing off he's in a sleeveless t-shirt that has a rainbow pawprint on the front, "Can it wait a moment? This works better with less clothes on… not that I'm dropping trou her in the living room or anything…" And then he closes his eyes. The tail becomes transparent and then retracts to the body as more of the goo comes shifting out of him, the spots that show on the fur on his shoulders now becoming obscured… and then it all resolves into the N7 Armor from Mass Effect 3… but it looks almost clayish. The details aren't the best, but from a distance it's a nice approximation, "I was told that the goo is only as strong as my will… whatever that means… so as long as I think it's invincible, it's supposed to be. Not that I want anyone to test it. But Commander Sheperd's cool, and I saw a drawing from a site I go to of a wolf in the armor, so I thought I'd give it a try?" Looking to Shane, his ears pin back, waiting for the more critial artist's eye to tear it apart.
The transformation is, indeed, quite attention-grabbing; growing one's own Iron Man suit (if rough in the details) is something that can't be passed off as nothing, especially not the first time. Glancing at Christopher, her look saying how wrong he's got the details, but doesn't hold it against him, she peers at the suit, moving closer to lean into the face, tapping an armored cheek with a free finger. "….Cool," she grunts after a moment. "Needs more shiny."
Not having a clue what a Mass Effect is, the reference is lost on Christopher. "Well if you do ever want to test it Ahmed, visit the danger room. But it's excellent progress." He says as he picks up a cookbook and starts to flip through it. "I want to ask the two of you a bit of a personal question. What are you doing to help you cope with what's going on?" Because it's obvious to him neither is doing well with recent events.
The poke shows that it's still in that proto-stage, too unsure of it to really get it right, so it's squishy… and eventually he brings it all back down, and this time returns it all to just a tail. Ahmed then looks at Shane for a moment and asks, "If you want… I can… model stuff you want to make. I've always seen you around with the cool outfits, and I thought… it might make up for the stupid crap I've put up with." With another shrug, he looks over at Christopher, and moves to settle at the base of the couch, "Coping? I don't really… I don't like sleeping in the room because well… doesn't smell right without Nick there. I'm too used to him and horse all the time…" Another sigh, and his eyes close, "I just spend a lot of time in catform… it's easier there. Everyone treats me like a big fuzzball, and just indulge the pets and the ruffles, and all that."
Shane lifts a shoulder in a listless half-shrug in response to the offer. "'F I c'n stop fuckin' it up, I guess." Turning to look at Christopher, she shakes her head. "Nothin'. Can't show m'face, can't get fabric, Amazon's way too fuckin' expensive, parents're half losin' their shit, keep ruinin' everythin' I try an' make, can't watch movies 'thout thinkin' 'bout Q… Just stayin' out the way. Can't deal with people, people can't deal with me. Go down to Danger Room an' blow up 'til I'm done, that's all I got."
"Ahmed, the main reason I asked you to my home was to try to offer to help you. I know you love to cook, I haven't seen you doing it that often because it's hard to cook when you're in catform. You can't let your life stop because you're worried, sad or scared. You don't have to be happy, you can still be worried, sad and scared but you have to find your inner strength." Christopher says to Ahmed. "Shane, I can help you get what you want. There are options, I can go shopping for you, or I can buy things off of the internet for you if it's too expensive, I don't mind in the least. I want you to have something to focus on so you don't drive yourself into that dark hole. Because even when Quenton comes home, you'll have trouble getting out of that dark hole."
Ahmed's muzzle opens, and then stops as he almost makes a caustic comment, but his eyes look at Christopher, and he stops… instead just clicking it shut before he looks around for a long moment, and settles on some little thing on the carpet, "I know I hide a lot… I really do, it's just hard. I've never really fit in anywhere, but… well… here. And even here I don't feel like I fit in too much. I get along with Nigel sometimes, and Nick… most days… just…" Another lash of his tail, and he sighs, "I'll shut up… I guess I'm whining. I just don't have anyone to vent to right now. And I don't want anyone else to feel like I'm buggin. Does that make sense?" All that said, he reaches over and he picks up one of the cookbooks, and begins looking through it, first at the noted recipie, and then to other ones, "Hey Shane… you like anything we could make? Or something you've wanted to try?"
Shane closes her eyes for a moment, drawing in a rough, deep breath. "…Look," she says quietly. "I know what you're sayin'. But y'don't get it…This?" And she gestures out the window, pausing to peer at what could have been movement, or a play of reflected light, then shakes her head and goes on. "This's just me bein' right. I'm scared 'a what could happen… but it ain't like that's new f'r me. Just means I'm *smart,* bein' scared. I *hate* it, Mr. Parker… Hate it like y'probably won't ever believe… but it's just how shit works. I *been* in this hole longer'n I've been comin' here. It's fine. I'll deal." Waving the can of soda as she talks, she crosses the kitchen to the window. "Seriously… Don't worry 'bout me," she says quietly. "Only thing'll help is gettin' Q back. 'N I ain't never been good at hopin'. So… we'll see, I guess."
"Ahmed, I brought you here so you can do whatever you need to do while doing something you love. Understand? If you need to vent, please do. I'm just hoping the comfort of cooking will help you. And you do have someone to vent to, right now. Me." Christopher says looking over at Shane with a saddened expression on his face. "Shane…listen, I know you think all hope is lost. I see it in you, and I worry about you. I know it's hard with Quenton being missing but for now, I'm offering you a hand so you don't have to be alone. So those things you hate, become a little bit more bearable. Right now you have a choice, and I really want you to think about this. You can stay there and be the scared girl in the dark you are right now, or you can take my hand and try to take steps so you don't hate it. I'm not asking you to change, I'm asking you if you'll let me help you. Because no matter what, and it what you say doesn't change it, I will worry about you. I care deeply about you, I care deeply about Ahmed and
every student whose come through the doors of Xavier's."
Grabbing at the stickies, Ahmed makes a couple notes on recipies to try, ones he can't always make because of his changed palate, and then moves on to the next one, keeping his eyes in the book and away from the two, "My dad promised me when I turned sixteen that I could get a learner's permit. He was going to teach me to drive… so that I could go to a convention that happens around this time of year in Seattle. Before this stuff got weird… I was planning on staying with friends I'd only met online… I was going to walk around with a tail I was getting someone to make for me there… I had all these plans. It was going to be like… well… a coming out of sorts… but then all of this crap. I even had a friend who was going to let me move in with him. I mean… these jerks talk about our gifts like it was something evil. Well? It is. I lost everything because of it. I don't want to say they're right, because they're not…"
Ahmed then sighs, and flops back to stare up at the ceiling, "Yeah, so my life was on a computer, and I pretty much had no friends, but it was still MY life. I miss my family, I miss my friend… my life is pretty much one big suckpile that I wouldn't HAVE if it wasn't for the fact that I sweat goo that smells like dead. I sleep half the day, I'm on Ritalin, and I can't even have half the spices I love… I really… really…" And he stops, closing his eyes, and wincing back the tears, "I want to go home. I -WISH- I had parents who were worried about me like you Mr. Parker… I just want to go home."
Shane leans her forehead against the window, closing her eyes. Then, at Ahmed's venting, she turns, stabbing a finger directly at the feline. "…Him," she says, staring at Christopher. "Help *him,* Mr. Parker. Worry 'bout me later. I *know* how t'keep my head up, but Ahmed needs a helluva lot more'n that. I'm serious. I'll deal 'til I don't need to no more."
It's Ahmed's turn to be wrapped into a hug by Christopher. "If you wish Ahmed, I am not sure if it will help, I can take you to see your home and your family, to see if they've changed. I'm sorry you have to go through this but you haven't lost everything. I know I'm not your parents but I'm here, anytime you need it." He says. "As for spices, I know it's hard but there are probably some you can handle and you can experiment with using some of them. It's just finding the right things." He then looks at Shane and there's a sad look on Christopher's face. "Shane, and I'm serious too. I can focus on more than one person. I'm here for you anytime you need it. Now, at the very least, let me find a way to help you get fabrics."
The hug is accepted for a bit, but on the offer, Ahmed all but jerks away, "No, it's WON'T." Frowning, as much as the short muzzle allows for it, "Look, I get it… and it does help to actually TELL someone. I can't tell this stuff to Nick. I like him and everything… seriously… but…" He then flattens his ears, "I can't TALK to him about family. He gets this totally kicked puppy look in his eyes, or gets growly about what happened. It's not like I won't begrudge him it, but… I'm supposed to live with this guy, and I can't open up… but I can't just ask to change rooms either, because then he'd get hurt. I hide in cat form… A LOT… because I don't feel like I get a chance to SAY anything to anyone. Everyone's got their own damage, so it's really hard to like… share. It's hard to know who gives a damn anymore."
Shane nods her head to Christopher. "That's your guy, Ahmed. Only reason I act like I don't give a damn is 'cos I can't do jack shit t'help. All's I c'n do is cuss out whoever's buggin' ya, 'r kick'm inna face if I catch'm doin' it. 'F it weren't f'r this bullshit, I'd call m'dads over an' have them help, but it ain't safe. So, Mr. Parker's your guy. Lotta adults 'round here give a damn, y'know. They just wanna let us ask'm ourself." Leaning against the wall, she glances over her shoulder out the window for a moment, then looks to Christopher. "…I'll see what I'm feelin'. Make out a list. Been savin' up, so I got money f'r it. Best I c'n think of."
"Ahmed, first off listen to the full thing I'm saying. I said if you want, I'm not trying to force you to go there, I'm not trying to force you to do anything, just letting you know options are there. I don't know your family so I was just offering. But no is no so the subject is now dropped." Christopher says looking at the teen cat for a bit a bit. "Ahmed…you have to think about you. You're so worried about what others will think of you if you say anything, you're afraid to and you let it bottle up. It's not your obligation or Nick's obligation as roommates to listen to each others problems, to expect him to listen to your issues is unfair to him. Just the same as him thinking you have to listen to his problems is unfair to you. If you believe it's an unhealthy rooming situation, ask for a change. Think about your feelings, not his. You have to focus on yourself, because if you're unhappy with yourself, can't accept who you are and can't love yourself, how can you expect others to feel the same?" C
Christopher smiles over a Shane and nods. "Thank you. She's right, I do give a damn. And as for fabrics, I'll get you a bunch of samples based on your list and then you can tell me which you want and how much of each roll. Or if you really want, we can set up an image inducer for you for the day and I'll go with you."
Ahmed rolls over so he doesn't have to face the others, and then takes a breath once as he turns a couple pages idly, "Myself? I… except for the furry thing, I never really did anything for myself. About the only thing I do anymore that's me-me is my online stuff… and even that's well… I don't want to get any of them in trouble too." His shoulders shift a bit, and his goo sweats out for a moment before he forces it back down, making it steam off of him after about a minute, "But… Shane… you'd… really do that? I thought… you didn't like me. I mean… you're Nick and Q-ba-…" Stopping with the nickname, "…Quenton's friends. I'm just sorta… there."
Shane shrugs. "Lots'a people irritate th'shit outta me, Ahmed. Don't mean I like watchin' 'em twist. An' 'f I c'n blow m'self through a fuckin' wall t'make Cale sleep better, think I could manage callin' up my Big Gay Dads 'n seein' how Louis 'n Mr. Parker mad-science it up inna kitchen t'fake up y'favorite food. Louis's weird like that; he'd hear what you can't eat 'n what you can, an' disappear inna Japanese supermarket f'r a fuckin' week tryin' t'figure it out." Raking a hand through her hair, she looks at Christopher, nods her assent to his plan, and takes a deep breath. "…Look, Ahmed. It ain't you, aight? I'm thirty-one flavors of fucked up, an' have been f'r years. Only thing that changed it was findin' out what *real* alone is, an' not wantin' that no more. Just, I suck camels at bein' friendly."
Christopher puts a hand on Ahmed's shoulder and smiles at him. "If you don't do stuff for you, and look out for yourself, who else is? Once a week, take time to do something, that isn't online, for you. Once you're comfortable with that, move to three or four times a week and then move to once a day." He looks at Shane and smiles, grateful for her help. "So she's Nick and Quenton's friend, does that mean she can't be yours too?"
"Personal experience… any time I get close to anyone, they're always in a group of friends, and I never feel like I can get in the door." But then Ahmed sits up, and turns to look at Christopher, gulping once as it's his turn to have the puffy eyes, "Maybe… I dunno… would it be cool to stay here a few days? I'm hypo-allergenic, and I'm toilet trained?" Begging kitten eyes? GO!
"Sure, I can set you up in Eddie's old room, if you don't mind all the super hero posters. I just can't let you skip classes so I can take you back and fourth to school and so you can get what you need. Shane, the offer is always open to you as well." Christopher has no issues with that since he offered when they first came over. "We can figure out how to make some dishes you can eat this weekend."
