The next week arrived, with Dan no further to finding a solution to his problems. Abby had managed to speak to her grandmother, asking for a favor in the form of a background check. The elder Sumrs had accepted her granddaughter's request with only a few brief questions, a fact that sowhat worried Daniel. Anastasia Sumrs was not exactly known for her lackadaisical attitude towards the security of her family. If she wasn't questioning Abigail's need for a background check, it was almost certainly because she already knew.
Which was, in a word, concerning.
Still, the request would take so ti, even for a person as influential Anastasia. Ti waited for no one, and neither did Academy classes. Monday had arrived, and Dan had responsibilities. He spent most of the class following his eting with Matilda with his heart in his throat. At any given mont, he expected her to burst into the room with so fabricated excuse to get close to him on her lips. It would've been a decent way to pressure him, he thought. There was very little he could say or do against her, while inside the walls of the Academy.
But she never showed, and Dan was happier in her absence. Tawny made no ntion of the woman, his fellow students acted no differently, and the class ended with little fanfare. Dan's relief was nearly audible, and lasted for approximately ten seconds after the bell.
"Stick around everyone," Tawny announced, as they finished packing away their supplies. "I've got a brief announcent to make."
All movent ground to a halt, as four pairs of eyes drifted to the front of the classroom. Tawny nodded in satisfaction at the quick response. Gesturing to his audience, he said, "I'm sure you all rember Miss Matilda Fairbanks from our last outing."
He received several nods, and Dan's stomach dropped onto the floor.
"Excellent," Tawny continued. "She has, very graciously, agreed to give a free tutoring session to each mber of my class. You'll find a pamphlet with the relevant information in the basket by the door." He pointed to a wire-fra container, resting on a nearby shelf. "I urge you all to seize this opportunity while it lasts. Yes, even you Miss Valentine." The last words were directed at Freya, whose hand was raised. Tawny gestured to her. "Matilda is fully qualified to evaluate A-rank upgrades for the departnt. She can help you make your selection, or if you already have one in mind, can advise you on its specific abilities."
Freya subsided with a polite nod, but Gregoir raised his hand in her place. With a sigh, Tawny acknowledged him.
"I am uncertain of the Lady Fairbanks's ability to evaluate my own glorious self!" he admitted frankly. "When I attempted to explain the importance of FIGHTING SPIRIT regarding my own power, she claid that I must be misunderstanding my own abilities!" His hands fisted at his waist, as if to say, "Which is obviously nonsense!"
Professor Tawny took a long, deep, slow breath, before massaging the bridge of his nose. "Yes, Gregoir, the entire departnt is aware of your unique... opinion, regarding your power. Rest assured, Matilda is willing to at least try working with you again. That said, I realize that you've had your power for over a decade and have a certain, er, perception of it. I would understand if you are reluctant to consult with another, even if I'd disagree with your decision."
Gregoir nodded thoughtfully. "I shall consider it."
"Do so," Tawny agreed. The dog-eared officer's eyes swiveled to Dan and Fred. "As for you two, I fully expect you both to take advantage of this offer. Matilda's rates are not cheap, and I'm frankly astonished that she's agreed to this sort of charity without extorting any favors out of . Don't let this opportunity pass you by."
He received an enthusiastic agreent from Fred and a blank stare from Dan.
"Right then, we're done for today. Go ho."
And that was that. Packing resud, people filed out. Dan continued to stare blankly, while trying to process what the fuck had just happened.
"Mr. Newman?" Tawny's voice broke him out of his reverie. The officer-turned-professor was watching him with slight concern, while standing next to the exit. His hand rested on the doorknob, and his foot was halfway across the threshold. "Is everything alright?"
No. Everything was not all right. He hated losing the initiative like this. Dan had been too naive, to think that Matilda could keep her curiosity at bay for more than a few days. She'd been so amicable at their parting. Unhinged, sure, but polite about it. He thought he would have more ti.
Now, he was stuck playing her ga, unless he wanted to draw unnecessary attention to himself. Daniel Newman, studious, diligent Daniel Newman, would not ignore an opportunity for growth. Daniel Newman, who wanted to work in disaster relief. Who needed to be the best that he could be, in order to save lives. Daniel Newman, the mutate, the definitely-native-to-this-dinsion law-abiding citizen had no reason to say no to such a generous and fortuitous offer.
Part of him wanted to say it anyway. To ignore the offer, and walk away. Allow the woman to pitch a fit, take her best shot at him, and let co what may. The more calculating part of him, the part that whispered in Marcus's voice, suggested that he was being angry and irrational, and nothing good would co of an impulsive decision. Which, of course, made Dan even more angry and irrational, because he knew inner-Marcus was right.
Dan couldn't afford to be impulsive. He wasn't alone in the world anymore. He couldn't just vanish without a trace, no matter how easy it would be for his power to accomplish. He had people now; person, specifically, and Abby would be shattered if Dan dove headfirst into trouble like an idiot.
Which ant he had to grit his teeth and bear it. He'd talk to Abby, and they'd co up with a plan to deal with this. Matilda had made her move, and it was up to Dan to respond. Besides, it was only one session that she was offering.
It was this realization that finally granted him words.
"How long is the tutoring session that Miss Fairbanks is offering?" he asked his professor, breaking the silence in the room.
Tawny blinked at the sudden question, but responded quickly. "Three hours is a standard session."
Not too bad. Dan had a black belt in bullshit, and could almost certainly prevaricate for three hours on the nature of his power, though doing so might backfire. The last thing he wanted was Matilda trying more intrusive asures of capturing his attention, whatever those might be. He needed ti, more than anything. Ti for the elder Sumrs to get back to him, ti to figure out Matilda's agenda.
She had an agenda, of that Dan was certain. She could spout off about academic interest all she liked, but the way she'd handled this entire ss spoke volus about her character. First, the veiled threats. Hints she knew that Dan was more than what he presented himself as. Demands for further interaction, hissed in undertone. Dan shouldn't have made her wait so long. He should have dealt with her imdiately, rather than hoping she would lose interest. It seed as if he'd exhausted her patience, with his constant deflections. Had he gone to her sooner, he might've bought himself more ti. Now, he was stuck dealing with a woman he knew nothing about, scrambling to formulate so sort of plan. He needed information, dammit!
Dan blinked, as the obvious occurred to him.
"Professor," he said slowly, recapturing the man's attention, "how well do you know Matilda?" Tawny had described her as an old friend, back at Red Creek, but that could an many different things.
The older man cocked his head, his ears twitching in a manner that had Dan biting his lips to avoid laughter. "How do you an?"
...Screw it. He'd go for honesty, or a crude facsimile thereof.
"She creeps out, sir."
Of the many various responses that Dan could've received to his comnt, a bark of laughter and a nod of agreent were not on the list.
"Yeah," Tawny agreed, " too. She's a creepy, intense, vicious woman."
"Then... why?" Dan asked, unable to properly express the sheer scope of his question. Just why? Why keep her around? Why ask for her help? Why involve her at all?
Tawny shrugged. "She's got a good reason to be the way that she is, and she's damn good at her job." He said it with such finality, such conviction, that Dan couldn't help but understand. The woman had a job, she did her job well. That was all Tawny required from her. All else was secondary.
Dan was in dangerous territory, now. He had questions, and Tawny had answers. The path forward was clear, yet riddled with dangers. He couldn't ask the wrong question, he couldn't dig too deep. But he had to know.
Dan let so of his very real hesitance leak into his voice. "Can you tell a bit about her background, professor?" The question garnered a look, more questioning then reprimanding, so Dan clarified. "I don't think I'm willing to work with soone who I know so little about. Especially with such a sensitive topic."
Tawny frowned. "If you're worried about her being biased against mutates, don't be. I told you didn't I? She's willing to work with Gregoir, as well."
That was not Dan's concern, but it was an extrely useful cover. Mutates, by and large, faced little bigotry. Certainly not on the scale of a Natural. However, there was always the odd madman or three, ready and willing to lash out at sothing slightly different from himself.
"She'd be pretty terrible at her job if that were the case," Tawny continued. "She mostly advises on low-impact upgrades, but she has consulted with the APD in the past. The departnt has two mutates of our own, and she has never shown any sort of ill-intent towards them."
Dan shrugged helplessly. The simple motion sohow managed to convey the totality of his feelings on this matter.
Tawny sighed heavily. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give you a brief background on her."
Dan was careful not to smile too triumphantly.
"She's been in the business for," he paused, ntally calculating, "oh, nearly fifteen years now. A veteran, for certain."
"Have you known her from the beginning?" Dan inquired curiously.
"No, only about half that long," the older man answered, waving his hand. "This was while I was still a private eye, but looking to get out of the business. I was introduced to Matilda through an old client; she helped prepare for my transition into police work."
Dan nodded, accepting that a brief explanation was the best that he'd get. "So, quite good at her job, then?"
"Quite," Tawny agreed dryly.
"And her, uh, deanor?" Dan searched for a kinder way to phrase his question, and failed. "I don't an to insult your friend, but when I spoke to her at Red Creek she ca off as slightly... well, off."
The officer's ears drooped slightly as he nodded. "True, her attitude leaves much to be desired. Still, she does not allow it to affect her work. I think you'll find her extrely professional." He paused, considering his last statent, then anded, "When in a professional setting."
Another explanation that told Dan nothing. Ti for a more honest approach.
"I don't think I want to work with a person like that," he admitted frankly. Hell, he might even be able to get out of this commitnt entirely. He just needed to lay his cards out on the table. "She gives a bad feeling. I don't have a history with her like you do, and I'm not willing to overlook my instincts."
Tawny watched him for several long seconds, evaluating his honesty. He would find no cracks; Dan was genuine. The officer must have seen such, as he groaned softly to himself.
"Fine," Tawny said, and for a mont Dan was elated. Then, the man continued, "I guess you've earned a bit of an explanation. I wouldn't want you to pass up a valuable opportunity because of a simple misunderstanding."
Dan's optimism crashed and burned with surprising alacrity.
"Matilda's sister was diagnosed with juvenile-ALS when she was only six years old. Lou Gehrig's disease," the man added, seeing Dan's confusion. "There is no purely dicinal cure, not even today. Her particular case progressed far more quickly than most, and it was estimated that she had less than a decade to live. They would not be pleasant years, either." Tawny shook his head, sadly. He paused, his face jerking to face Dan. "This is all secondhand, you must understand. Matilda has not spoken of this to , nor to anyone, I suspect. Not for many years. You will not ntion it to her."
Dan nodded quickly, startled by his professor's sudden intensity.
"Right. Right." Tawny ran his hand through his hair, huffing to himself. "So, they made a desperate choice. There was a... reflex upgrade, of so sort. I don't know the na, and it was still in its infancy. Matilda's family arranged for her younger sister to receive the upgrade long before it was ready. The thought was that it might overwrite her degenerating motor neurons with fresh, new ones. Maybe cure her, or at least buy her a few years of mobility."
"It killed her instead," Dan stated with certainty.
"No." Tawny shook his head. "It didn't."
Dan blinked. Then what, exactly, was the woman's problem?
"It worked, in a way," Tawny explained slowly. "It kept her sister alive. It halted the disease's progression, but did not cure her. She remains alive to this day, though utterly immobile." Dan's thoughts must have been written on his face, because the older man sighed. "It's not that the procedure failed, that made Matilda who she is. It's that it succeeded, not five years later. It was a huge story at the ti." Tawny spread his hands through the air, framing a picture. "A cure for the incurable. This one Cambridge professor had the sa idea that Matilda's family did, but the upgrade been refined enough by then to actually work."
"Ah," Dan stated, as the reality sunk in. "And upgrades are permanent."
"That is the common consensus, yes," Tawny agreed with slight amusent. "Sotis, though, I think Matilda seeks to find a way around that fact. I think that she's looking for a way to cure her sister, as impossible as that idea might be." He gave Dan a steely look. "She's not a bad person, just driven. You'd do well to listen to her advice."
Dan nodded in assent, realizing that the conversation was over. He'd get nothing more from Tawny. He needed to process what he learned, anyway. He needed to tell Abby. He needed a second opinion. He needed to know if his dislike of the woman was blinding him to sothing obvious.
Because, no matter what Tawny said, no matter how noble Matilda Fairbanks's intentions might be...
Dan did not trust her. Not a single bit.
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