Remnants of the Earth

Joseph saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and chose to completely tune it out right up until a pair of booted feet thunked onto his desk as if it were a simple home coffee table and not his place of work. Cold, dead, steel eyes deviated from the screens long enough to glare in silent offense at the boots. Not once though did they raise to meet those of the offending individual attached to said boots. Instead they silently returned the screen.

Ever in control, the Pilot reached across the desk for his coffee cop and took a long draw. A sneer curled his lips though at the drink having gone cold. The cup was replaced precisely into the exact same spot it had been removed from and Joseph at last straightened. He rose from his seat, removing his glasses as he went, and rounded the desk in a manner that spoke of the unleashed predator buried deep within.

He came to rest in front of Orphen, his rear shelved on the edge of the desk and his own ankles crossed on the floor. It might have even appeared to have been an entirely relaxed posture if not for the way his eyes bored into the elf's face. If he even recognised the other Pilot, his face did not show it. Instead he used the heel of his hand to forcefully shove the offending boots off his desk and clear his throat.

"So this is the kind of trash they send off to drown in Samariel," he intoned in his deep, gravelly voice while crossing his arms loosely over his chest. Jospeh scoffed and sneered as he gave Orphen a disapproving once over. "Can't even be assed to dress appropriately or address your superior officer accordingly. Pilot this is my office not a lounge. You will shape up immediately and pay me and this office the necessary respect we are accorded or you will find yourself being escorted out and written up for insubordination. Do I make myself clear?" Jospeh asked in a cool, even tone.

"Because we are friends it warrants saying thanks all the more. It's important to tell the people you care about that you appreciate them, that you value you them, and that they mean something special to you. If you just let it go unsaid then you risk losing them."

She smiled and waved her hand at his comment about making things easy. Neither of them had. They both had made mistakes and had poor impressions of the other. It was all in the past now. All that mattered was the present because in the present they were friends and colleagues and happy with their working relationship.

Her nose crinkled at mention of Orphen's bibi. Another bibi came to mind though as she couldn't truly imagine Ren's birthgiver being all too keen on eating in such an establishment either. Family was such a tough topic for her and she desperately tried to not think of flashes of long, red hair, the smell of incense, or the crow's feet in a weathering face. Her family believed her dead and so she too must hold them dead to her.

His jest did soothe her nerves some as she barked a choked laugh and nodded her head. "Yes, yes you did this time. What a relief." Jain giggled and shook her head. "I was so angry with you then, so fed up with everything really I think. At least you stuck around though. Like I said, I'm grateful."

Blu eyed Sidney from the corner of her eye as the pair walked along. She knew the poor girl was trying and that she really hadn't managed to be as accepting of that proffered bond as she probably should have been. Some days though it was just so hard to get up in the morning, to drag her sizeable ass into work, and to be the leader they all needed and wanted her to be. To be Sidney's buddy, to be her friend, and to admit that she was very much not okay was not something Blu could handle these days. Maybe in another lifetime she would have been comfortable with laying down her armor and showing off her still bleeding wounds. But not now, no now all she wanted to do was bandage herself up and hide it all away. She needed to be strong for others and it was easier to hide her own pain and suffering than let them in and let them see just how much of a mess she really was. The only ones who even came close to knowing just how broken she was were likely Plague and Yavul. Even then, they really didn't know just how many secrets she held and kept buried in the deepest parts of herself. If she had her way, they would never know either.

Sidney though deserved so much more than Blu had in her to give. So for now she could give the younger woman her company for dinner simply because she had asked, because she had been asking for a long while now, and because not everything was about Blu. So tonight could be about Sidney and that was okay too.

"You know," she commented softly, "I think I'm actually in the mood for a salad. Know any good places?" Blu looked sideways to Sideny and attempted a small smile. Gods both she was just so tired. When even was the last time she had eaten? Lunch? No, she'd worked through that. Must have been that sad half sandwich for dinner the night before. Damn.

Her brow crinkled as she tried to focus on the rest of what Sidney was saying and not her own rumbling stomach or aching and stiff limbs. "Schuyler...he's th' uh one with th' skullface, yeah? He seemed like a nice kid. Polite and all that." She snorted softly and shook her head at the quip. "Oh cher, I imagine he does. You still teaching them classes then?"

Jain pursed her lips tightly together, exhaling heavily as she mulled something over in her head. She was tired, she was irritated, and she was completely unprepared for having a work partner. Maybe if it had been someone she knew, someone like Cabe or Ren...or Jesse she would have been able to muddle through it and be okay. But, this stranger was pretentious and an asshole. He made apologies for situations he created and could have easily amended by simply NOT behaving poorly. He stomped on all her toes in such a short amount of time and yet insisted that it wasn't intentional even as he constantly tested her.

What had she even done to deserve a partner like this? Had she really good and well fucked up? Jain hadn't thought she had been doing poorly. Surely after Jesse's death she had still managed to keep her head above water. Was she really screwing up that badly that she hadn't even noticed? Was that what this was all about? She needed a handler to keep her in control now too? Or was she meant to be the handler keeping track of some washed out burnout Pilot? That certainly would explain his attitude if nothing else.

Fine, then. She could do this. It was just a job. He would work on this mission with her. They would succeed and then she would move on and he would return back to where he came. Easy. She could do this.

"Then consider that your first lesson in working with me, Pilot Lyre." Taking a deep, calming breath, Jain smoothed her hands out on the table and continued in a gentler tone. "No one notices me on the first go around. It's my gift. Try not to take it personally. If we're going to work together successfully then you're going to have to get used to this behaviour. And we're going to need to work together whether we like it or not. The mission takes priority over our own sentiments towards working solo or in pairs as we've been assigned. That goes for both of us, self included.

"Now then," she straightened in her seat and set her small tablet on the table. "How do you usually begin assessing priorities for your mission? I like to make a gameplan before I go in. Improvisation isn't my favourite thing in the world without several backups organised first."

"--hands up like a rollercoaster. This love is taking over. Take us higher, here we go. Oh, oh, oh. Welcome to the show!"

Long gloved arms shot up in the air to sway and wriggle to the beat of the music. The young blonde didn't consider for one second how she looked as she let the music free her. The lyrics belted off her tongue and her head rocked side to side, sending loose, feathery platinum strands of hair fluttering about when they didn't stick to the clammy skin of her neck and cheeks.

Joan had needed a break from all things Pilot and squad related so she had high-tailed it out of work come Friday on the first rail going anywhere that was outside of Margad. She hadn't even packed a bag, just threw on some fun clothes and bolted. Between the arguments with Jonesy, the exhausting drills, the antics with Ellis, the worrying and fawning over Mattie's new kittens, and the countless restless nights of late, Joan was more than ready to run and treat herself to some personal pampering of some sort or another.

Four corndogs, a giant soft pretzel, a triple scoop ice cream, and an extra large cone of candied almonds later, Joan had felt sated enough in the hunger department to bounce her way off to the clubs where hours later she was still dancing and singing her ass off. All around her people were getting lost in the music, feeding the empath full of a feel-good high. This was exactly what she needed. No more anxiety and negativity constantly pelted at her, although to be fair Jonesy was trying to be better at that. No more jumping to take care of others. No more being hit on by dumbasses who thought boasting about the size of their dick was the way to win a woman's heart. Alright, maybe there were those two jerks at the bar earlier but they had been easy enough to blow off.

But, the point was she could let her hair down and just melt into the crowd and the beat. She danced for hours until her head was spinning and a fine sheen of sweat coated her skin. She crooned song lyrics until her tongue felt heavy and her throat felt like fire. Joan let herself be free so that she felt like she was flying. It was good to forget obligations and responsibilities for a little while.

So hours later when she was exhausted to the bone, it was a good weariness too, she was ready to call it a night. It was the kind of tiredness that promised a long, dreamless sleep and a slow, lazy re-emergence into the land of the living much, much later. As a chronic sufferer of nightmares and worse, she was hardly about to pass that up. The only question that remained now was whether she should trundle her ass home on the rail again where morning meant facing reality again or if she should rent herself a room for the night and risk the disorientating horror of sleep paralysis in a new environment.

She lit up a cigarette, taking a heavy drag of it before coughing and stubbing it back out. It wasn't what she wanted. Joan flicked the whole thing into a disposal bin as she meandered past it.

"Now ain't that a waste. Kids these days just don't know how to smoke," a smooth voice growled at her from a nearby bench.

The Pilot rolled her eyes and set her jaw, choosing to ignore the man and walk onwards than waste her breath on him. The man stood up to follow her, making Joan stand up straighter, her hands slipping into her coat pockets to grip her com and blindly unlock it. She caught sight of him from the corner of her eye and felt a chill run up her spine. He was huge. Even as a highly trained Pilot, Joan could see she was outmatched for weight and height should things dissolve into a physical alteration. If it meant anything, she really wasn't in the mood for one either.

"I said you wasted the cigarette, kid. If you're not going to smoke them, then don't buy them. I could teach you if you wanted though. Could teach you all kinds of things," he purred, falling into step right beside her. "Got nothing to say for yourself, princess? Come on now I'm only teasing you. Surely a pretty girl like you knows how to have fun, yeah? Maybe? Smile for me princess. I bet you're real pretty when you smile."

At the first lit intersection she found, Joan took a sharp right and tried to peel away from the stranger into an oncoming crowd. Not even his gasp of surprise stopped her as she quickened her pace to catch up with a gaggle of girls ahead of her. If she could keep to safety in numbers then maybe she wouldn't have to beat the living shit out the creep at the cost of her own health.

A bruising grip suddenly yanked her back and spun her around to face her attacker. "Jo?" he asked, earning a fierce glare as she swung to strike him. The hand in her pocket clutching her com, pressed nine and then dial moments before he caught her punch and trapped her arms firmly against her sides. It was not that long ago that young Pilots like her had suddenly gone missing in a case that had affected several domes across the country. Was that what this was? Or was it a "simple" case of assault and worse?

Joan didn't want to wait to find out. She could only hope and pray that the person on the other line wouldn't think she was up to her usual mischief and would recognise the potential trouble of her calling and not answering. She rocked back onto her heels and dropped her weight like a rock, forcing her captor to become unbalanced and crouch over her. Joan did not stop there as she then used her free legs to her advantage to kick and twist about violently while screaming and shouting at the top of her lungs. She was not going to be prey. She was not going to be a victim. She was not going to be some man's toy tonight.

She was yanked up onto her feet again and squeezed tight into a bear hug, her arms trapped between them and his arms crushing her head and waist to his body. That low voice was calm and smooth as he fought to speak over her and be heard. But Joan didn't want to hear him. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be touched. She didn't want to listen to this monster that acted like he knew her.

"Joanna listen to me! Jo! It's me. You didn't forget me, did you Lil Sting?"

Lil Sting.

That name made her freeze suddenly, her breath frozen within her breast as she turned wide, brown eyes up to meet his doe-eyed gaze. "What did you just call me?" she barked hoarsely.

"Lil Sting," he repeated, loosening his grip and smiling. "It's me, dad. You didn't forget your old man, did you?"

Joan felt sick as she ripped herself from his embrace and stumbled backwards. "I hardly recognised you though," he continued. "You look just like your mom. You've really grown up. How you doin' kid?"

Her nostrils flared as he just stood there smiling toothily with open arms. Joan though felt nothing but rage for the man before her. This was the disgusting piece of trash that had sired her? This was the degrading filth that had moments earlier hunted her like a predator? This man who sure as shit did not look dead like Nonna Anna had said and did not look drugged out of his mind as she had suspected was her father? This was the infamous no-show dad, Joseph Bartholomew Tucker?

The Scorpion shook her head from side to side first slowly and then faster and faster until her blonde ponytail was whipping from side to side and beating her cheeks. She back-pedaled away until her shoulder clipped a lamppost and then she turned and bolted. Joan ran and ran unsure if she was being followed or not but unwilling to chance it. She couldn't do it. She couldn't stay and see him and everything he represented from her past. He may not have been the one to harm her but he had good as doomed her to a life of nightmares and suffering.

By the time she made it to the rail station, she was shaking with adrenaline and completely out of breath. Her lungs were screaming and seizing for air even as she moved to lean up against a tiled wall. Gasping for air she plunged her hand into her coat and rummaged around until she was able to drag out com, still on with an answered call.

"Jonesy?" she asked, voice shaky and ragged. "I'm okay. Can you meet me at the Margad station in a couple hours? I'm coming home on the next rail from Haviah and I don't want to go home alone."

So much for a peaceful birthday weekend alone.

Joan's stomach roiled as she once more withstood a fullblown empathic assault to the senses. She wanted to scream, to tear the walls of the room down, to smash Jonah's face into the nearest hard surface until it became unrecognisable, to vomit until even dry heaving hurt but she couldn't stop. His rage was incomprehensible. She had had no idea just how deeply he had been suffering inside and yet she was divided on his pain.

On the one hand she felt grief and compassion for him. Joan knew better than any other outsider the demons he likely had to fight on a daily basis because of his trauma. She had her own after all. His presence also equally forced the nightmares to return with a vengeance after the canister incident a few days ago. But, on the other hand her own rage rose up within her like hot tar, coating and sticking to her insides until everything burned and hurt.

He knew. Jonah Cole knew that she was also a survivor; it was written all over her star-damned file after all. And yet he still tortured her and flung his shit around at her without accepting responsibilities for his actions. Sure, the daily migraines and nausea she was cursed with thanks to his constant aura of disgust and distance absolutely sucked but it was nothing compared to now. It was only thanks to the countless hours spent strapped in a chair and forced to relive not only her own traumas but the emotions of others over and over and over again until she either broke or was capable of surviving it.

Candidacy didn't break her. She was going to die before she let him bring her down now. His words though, so quiet and so full of hate in the still room, stung sharper than an openhanded slap to the face. Her anger wasn't quelled either, if anything it was only more inflamed as she slowly shifted to stare at him. Joan took a deep, load inhale and let it back out forcefully. Then, she gave him a mighty empathic yank, ripping at his negative emotions and pulling them into herself. Tears continued to prickle at her eyes and her brows were knit in concentration. She would never be able to take it all away from him but if he wanted to hurl this at her then fine, she'd claim it for her own. Maybe then they could actually have a fucking civil conversation.

Her knees felt weak by the time she had coiled some of his dark miasma about her person. It was a tiny dent but it would do for now. Her first attempts to speak came out as harsh croaks that turned into a gagging cough for a moment. Joan shook her blonde head sharply and tried again once the waves of nausea were more bearable again.

"You couldn't fucking tell me, Cole?" she replied tiredly. "You've read my fucking file. You know who I am and you still couldn't be a fucking adult about this situation and just tell me 'hey I don't think you're a cunt you're just a constant reminder of past trauma so fuck off and carry on.' You think I want to be here Cole? No, no I really don't. I wanted to be a healer. I wanted to take away people's pain. I wanted to make them happy. I wanted to help them. Instead I got my ass sat on the fear squad with a bunch of emotionally stunted assholes like you and forced to take away happiness instead. I may fucking hate my job but at least I'm doing it!"

Her voice cracked and a single tear finally flooded over the brim of her eye and splashed down her cheek. "Shall I remind you the shit I've gone through before and because of you? My name is Joan Archer. I was raised by my grandmother who loved me dearly. She named me after a star and told me it was the name of a warrior, of a woman who never let a man stand in her way. She died when I was just a kid and I was adopted in by a circus master. He starved us, tortured us, raped us, broke us in every way possible while making us believe it was love, it was affection, it was what we deserved and that he was helping us, that we should be grateful to him and fulfill his needs. I was ten the first time he laid his hands on me although we were groomed for other things much younger than that.

"And when I finally had the courage to run, to get help, I was punished for that too. Fucking Pilot Candidacy stole me from my loved ones, tried to break me, wouldn't let me fucking die when I tried," she shouted, ripping up her sleeves to show her old scars. "And then I'm ordered here. You know how I ended up in hospital during my celebration week? Spent the whole time having my stomach pumped and new blood filtered in my system because I 'partied a little too hard.' Mark my words, outside of this room I will vehemently deny it was anything but an accident. But, I knew exactly what I was taking and I wanted to die.

"I lived." She swallowed thickly. "I fucking lived to be tortured by you on a daily basis, to be made physically sick all because you as a grown-ass adult refuse to control yourself. All because you can't consider anyone else but your fucking self and the effect of your actions! Thanks to you I get to relieve memories I had forgotten at night now. Instead of being my superior, my support, and my fucking teammate you've done nothing but tear me down and scorn me for the better part of a year! You're supposed to have my star-damned back Jonah Cole and instead you're the one killing me the most!

"You listen to me!" Joan rounded on him, the wrath shaking within her as she moved to stand toe to toe with him. She invaded his space, forced him to face her with nowhere to run. It was also probably the dumbest move she had ever made. You did not cage in a wounded animal. You did slap the snarling tiger and expect to not be bit. But, she was hurting and ruled purely by emotion now. Logic had left long ago and tears were falling harder now so that he swam in her vision and yet she latched onto his forearms all the same.

"Listen to me! This can't continue! If you want me gone, then fucking get rid of me. I won't fight a transfer. I'll be out of your fucking way and you can go back to rotting in your own misery because you're too fucking childish to stop being a victim long enough to become a survivor. But I am NOT going to let you drag me down with you. You're not the only one who's been hurt here and every time you put me through hell you let them win." Her hands squeezed him tighter as she pushed in further against him. Joan wasn't sure if she held him now to keep him in place or to keep herself still standing. The tears just would not stop. Her knees felt like jelly and all she wanted to do was find a little corner to hide in and curl up as small as possible. Maybe if she hid the nightmares wouldn't find her. Maybe she would be passed over and some other unfortunate soul would suffer in her place.

"I can't change my name. I can't turn back the clock and stop what happened to you anymore than I can stop it happening to me. I would if I could. No one deserves the shit I endured, the crap I'm sure you did too. But, I am not going to let you hurt me anymore. I have come too far and survived too much to let another man do this to me. Even you! Maybe even especially you. Cut the crap Jonesy and be a fucking adult here. I'm sorry for accusing you of being a predator but I am NOT sorry for calling you out on being a monster. I don't deserve this shit from anyone, least of all you.

"I did everything to try to win your approval. I slaved to be a good empath, to be a good squadmate, to be kind to you, or to stay out of your way and nothing was ever good enough for you! I'm SORRY I am a constant reminder of your past but I am NOT the one who hurt you! I am not your monster here but you, you are mine!

"You're mine," she repeatedly weakly, her hands finally shakily leaving him as she swayed slightly under the sudden exhaustion of popping off both verbally and emotionally at him. This could very well be the end of her career but at least Joan could say she had no regrets. He needed to know. He needed to face the horror he wrought upon her and if Jack wasn't going to put him in her place then she damn well would. Maybe the next empath they found to replace her would have more of a fighting chance. Then again, maybe they'd be a male and not unfortunately named Joan.

"Excuse me, sir," a waiter from the restaurant nervously interrupted Joseph's wandering thoughts. "Um one of the patrons wished you to have this," he said, practically shoving the wrapped dessert into the Pilot's hand like it was on fire. "They also wanted to inform you that while they appreciate your generosity, they cannot accept it. And um," the young man dipped his head under Joseph's amused gaze as the older man waited for the barb about to be sent his way. "Well you see they said that they have no interest in children who like to drop their pants and see if their penis is as big as they think it is."

The redhead blushed darkly and fidgeted as Joseph barked with laughter. He thanked the server and sent him back to work with a smile. Trent still had yet to reappear so the dom so no reason why he couldn't have a bit of fun in the meantime. He waited then until he caught Sentria's eye before raising the dessert and nodding his head in thanks. Afterwards though he made a point at tugging at the waistband of his trousers and taking a peek down at the contents with in. His expression turned to one of self-satisfied awe before offering the offended Starstrider a smirking wink.

Trent arrived then though, preventing any further playful interactions. Joseph coiled his arm about his submissive's waist and gently escorted him out. The pair spoke quietly to each other on their walk back to The Vault, a local dungeon where they both "played." Their evening concluded an hour or so later with Trent feeling less fragile and having booked a session for in a couple of weeks.

Joseph went home alone, showered and went to bed, the people from the restaurant completely forgotten. The dessert had been gifted to Trent instead. He had a long day at work ahead of him for the next day. There was a new mission that he was meant to be a handler for and he still had things he wanted to prepare in the morning.

And when morning did come he fell easily into routine. A quick workout at the gym proceeded a shower and donning a dark green button-up shirt with slate slacks. Joseph was in one of the meeting rooms, pouring over several screens of data when the door opened and a man entered. He assumed it was likely his agent coming to be debriefed so said nothing and simply continued to flip between screens of text while making last minute notes. The other Pilot could wait. Joseph had more important matters to deal with than pampering someone else's ego right then.

Joan had been lounging in bed when she saw the notification from Ellis in the Pilot chat. Bleary-eyed and still "hungover" from lack of sleep it took her longer than she would have liked to understand what he was jokingly trying to say. They bantered back and forth as she still struggled with waking up and her growing excitement and concern for sweet, little Mattie.

Births were messy affairs and the babies and kitty would both need checking to see that they weren't in any distress. Joan trusted Ellis to be able to look out for his newly expanded furless family but it was in her nature to jump in and help, perhaps even to her own detriment or when she really wasn't needed.

It took a bit of struggling to muddle her way through the act of finding clothes and wiggling her way into them. Her mind though was bouncing all over the place. Her unexpected revelation about Jonesy the night before had her hesitating and weighing the options of what to do next. They had not discussed the topic at great length once she had been scrubbed down after the Giant Boris Hair Spray Incident. But, there had been some discussion at least. Jonah Cole whether he was ready to admit it or not had feelings for Amaryllis Melledy and on top of that he was jealous of Joan for the casual friends with benefits relationship she had with Ellis.

It was a giant mess that still gave her a headache and made her sigh. Her thumbs were flying across the com keyboard though and in no time she was pinging Jonesy to include him in this. If he was jealous of her, if he wanted what she had, then he would have to work for it. In the meantime she could work harder to include him, to not always be the one that jumped first, to be the one that stepped back to allow someone else take the lead for once.

Was it the right decision? Who fucking knew? Certainly not her! She'd certainly given Jonesy an earful about knowing what he was doing and not being rash or thinking with his dick. Ellis was not a delicate man; he was a damn fine Pilot after all and a Scorpion at that. But, Joan and Jonah both knew what it was like to be caught in a place where the person you were meant to look up to and trust, betrayed you in the most violating and disgusting manner. Neither of them could run from their demons, they would always be there in their nightmares with their ghosting caresses. But, Joan was doing her damnedest to not be a victim any longer. She also wasn't going to let Ellis become one though.

In her heart she felt she could trust Jonesy but, she also knew that they were playing with fire. If it was what Ellis wanted also then both men were in danger of getting in trouble and reprimanded. It was against the rules after all to have a relationship with your superior/subordinate. Joan's knowing and doing nothing could also implicate her. On the other hand if it was truly consensual between two adults then who fucking cared if they fucked around? If she or Ellis suddenly got promoted above the other it was not like suddenly all the times they had done the horizontal tango would suddenly be a crime.

Joan groaned and tightened her ponytail. It was a giant fucking mess that she would have to deal with later. For now, Jonesy was being a friend to Ellis and that was as far as she would need to worry about it in this second. There were kittens to be focusing on right now. Relationships and secrets and pesky feelings could be dealt with later.

After some rummaging around she managed to find a shallow box from some shipment or another she had gotten and an old, thick, beat-up albeit clean towel that she had been meaning throw out for ages now. She lined the box with it, doubled back to retrieve her com and then dashed out the door to help a friend.

"Yo, yo, yo!" She called somewhat softly as she shuffled into Ellis's apartment. "Where you be, Ellis? I come bearing snuggly things for a Miss Mattie and a thousand kisses for tiny, little, furless wonders," she stated, her voice becoming more high pitched and squeaky as she mentioned the kittens and poked her head into the kitchen. A wordless eyebrow raised at the sight of the slightly nibbled on daisies before she pressed on to the next room.

Joseph smirked to himself. It was not the first time he had heard such comments regarding the venue where he chose to indulge in his hobbies. This was Aedolis though and he was causing no harm. The prissy princess could get off her high horse. The bitch probably would have enjoyed such humiliation though if given the right guiding hand. It always amused the Pilot just how many people were closeted and truly into the very things he had no shame bringing out into public.

The other one at the table across from him was what people in Joseph's hobby trade would call a SAM or smart ass masochist. Joseph always likened it to small dog syndrome: they loved to bark and talk back, maybe even bite but in the end they weren't the alpha and needed to be reminded of their place regularly.

And there it was.

Joseph smirked, staring openly to see the yapper put so quickly in his place by his companion. They certainly made an interesting couple. It was quite obvious who wore the britches in that relationship.

Bor-ing!

Beside him, Puppy had finished his dessert and was sitting quite contently curled around his ankle under the table. He allowed the creature time to cuddle and rest as he signaled the waitress over and whispered a request in her ear. She would return later with another mousse dessert on a coffee saucer which she placed at his elbow. Joseph paid for his meal before gently nudging Puppy with the toe of his boot.

"Trent, time to get up," he called down gently. There was a solid thump under the table as the dishes on it clattered and a sharp string of curses erupted as the latex clad human crawled out rubbing his head. "You alright?"

The human-pup nodded and waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah just forgot again." Joseph rubbed his head soothingly before handing over a black bag from the chair beside him. "Go get changed and I'll meet you out front." Trent was quick to obey, standing on his own two feet at his full 6' of height as he wove his way between the tables, his rubber tail wagging behind him with his every step.

Only once Trent had disappeared into the bathrooms and the nearby tables had returned once more to their own dinners and conversations did Joseph finally unfurl from his chair. Dessert in hand he prowled up behind the disapproving "Bibi." The dessert was delicately placed directly in front of Sentria from his left side as Joseph leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Compliments of the man with no respect," he purred darkly. "Enjoy your dinner, pet."

Joseph straightened, refusing to acknowledge or even make eye contact with the yapper as he attempted to brush his way past the table and out to the door where he would meet Trent. It was always best to put a brat in his place early before he started getting delusions of grandeur and control. A princess on the other hand needed the much more public and proverbial slap to the face to realise her place. Joseph was only too happy to deliver on both, completely free of charge.