Lies have short legs (Part 6 of Mutants versus Witches)

John excused himself to the kitchen, pouring out a cup of coffee. The sounds of the children arguing from the living room seeped through the walls and John sighed deeply. Teenagers, he reminded himself, they were teenagers now.

"Driving you crazy?" Fiona asked from behind him.

John buried his irritation carefully, smiling at the clairvoyant as he turned. "When are they not?"

She smiled over a cup of tea, but her eyes were narrowed. John pretended not to notice that, leaning against the counter.

"I hope they're not the reason you are hiding in here," John said cheerfully. He was beginning to think the clairvoyant had to go.

Fiona wasn't a child, she was a rare grown-up who had survived with powers. She'd been useful, but it was getting too risky having her here.

"Oh no, I just didn't want to interrupt the lesson. And my God, they're all perfectly sweet." Another calculating sip and John wished she'd just get on with whatever she was scheming. "They've been with you for a while, right?"

"Not that long, but yes, it is getting to be a few years at least." John dismissed her airily, forcing himself to swallow more coffee.

"And let me guess, Harry the longest? Is he your son?"

What was it Americans liked to say? Once a cop, always a cop. "Yes, Harry was the first I found, but we aren't related."

"Oh, yes, of course. He's not German, nor does he look anything like you." Fiona smiled again, "So, how did you find him?"

"Harry?" John quirked an eyebrow. "Ah, well, it was easy. Poor boy attracted too much attention."

"Parents died, right? Murder-suicide?" Fiona asked, and then smiled at John's surprise. "I was a cop, remember?" She tapped her head, "I never forget the weird unsolved ones."

"I thought you lived in Seattle." John bit back his own smile.

"I did, moved there from South Carolina."

"Funny that a Canadian case from a small town caught a Seattle cop's attention." John stared into Fiona's eyes, smiling still.

He'd been wondering why she'd made those secret calls a few days ago, and now he assumed that she'd been getting information from some Polizei friend of hers.

"You looked into me, and I looked into you," Fiona said brightly, undaunted. "Did you look into Harry too? There was nothing in his file, at all, that hinted at his powers. Nothing social work jotted down, and somehow, all the records of foster homes vanished."

"I spoke to one of his foster moms. She accidentally told me her suspicions."

"Come on, you couldn't have believed it when she said her new kid could read minds." Fiona challenged, scoffing.

"I met with the boy-"

"There are dozens like him, just how much time did you have on your hands?" Fiona had put down the cup.

"Is this an interrogation?" John asked, dumping his own cup into the sink.

"How did you find these kids?" Fiona asked bluntly, drumming her fingers into the counter. "They seem to think you suddenly walked in at the right time, right as their powers got crazy. And saved them."

"You interrogated the kids too?" John laughed. "What brought this on? Have you seen a vision?"

"I did. And it's not a future I want any part of. How did you find the kids? Simin's parents are still looking for her, did you know that?"

"What did you see?" John pressed.

"You first." Fiona smiled, finally having something he wanted.

John leaned back. "You only ever see one possible vision, one maybe future. I'll take my chances. If that's all-" He straightened up, heading for the door.

"Do you have powers?" Fiona asked, tilting her head. "Is it controlling the abilities of others?"

John turned back. "I have no abilities. I have never suggested I did."

"Right, you're just a magic guidance counsellor who has a knack for running into vulnerable kids with powers." Fiona crossed her arms. "You showed up at Devon's house, Simin's school, saved Elysse's brother, and I don't even know how you smuggled Harry into this country."

As if summoned, Harry entered the kitchen then, glancing at both of them.

John smiled, as did Fiona.

"You need something, hon?" Fiona asked, kind as always. Die Kinder would miss her.

John had no secrets from the telepath, but Fiona should be more careful around him.

Harry shook his head, grabbing a glass and some orange juice.

"Stay for a moment, Harry," John said calmly, mentally conveying instructions. "He knows everything, Fiona. And since we're asking questions, how exactly does your power work?"

"I can see overall futures. Glimpses of the present. So I know you didn't kill me as a result of this conversation." Fiona replied coldly, body language tense.

"I'm not a killer." John grimaced, astonished at the turn this conversation had taken. "Nor do I threaten people I'm trying to protect."

"I don't trust you," Fiona said, and then she looked at Harry. "And neither should you, hon."

"You don't need to trust me." John nodded and Harry turned his power onto Fiona.

The clairvoyant woman's face went rigid, eyes glassy.

"Fiona, I'm sorry, but your powers attract too much attention." John sighed, influencing her thoughts.

Fiona said nothing, hand spasming, and John continued.

"Of course, I'll find you someplace safe, near your home. The kids will miss you, but it's for the best. Don't you agree?"

"For the best." Fiona echoed, lips trembling. "What about the kids?"

John glanced at Harry. "They're safer with me. Don't worry about them."

"Okay." Fiona nodded. Then for just a second, her eyes turned clear and she asked, "Do they know what you-"

"Harry?" John inquired and Harry narrowed his eyes at her.

Fiona's eyes glazed over again. "Thanks, John. It'll be nice to go home again."

"No worries. Shall we make breakfast for the kids?" John nodded to the stove and then turned to Harry. "Tell the others breakfast will be ready soon."

As the boy made to leave, John placed a hand on his shoulder, and critically examined the telepath's face.

Pale, thinner. Kränklich. "You look exhausted, Liebchen, go lie down for a bit."

Harry nodded, giving Fiona one last look as he left.

The clairvoyant was assembling pans, spices. She hummed some sweet, slow-sounding song as she did, and John rubbed his eyes.

He knew Harry hated this part of his abilities. And he knew that he'd have a lot of explaining to do when they all figured it out. Lügen haben kurze Beine, as his mother would say.

"Sorry about this, Fiona, but I can't have you ruining everything, well-intentioned as you are." John smiled at her, putting on an apron, and grabbing some oranges for juice. "How do you like your eggs?"