Bishop and Calvin: A New Case for X-Factor

[x-bishop.livejournal.com]

A mutant with uniquely District X style powers comes to X-Factor for help investigating a disappearance.

Calvin shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fists rhythmically clenching and unclenching, and headed for the offices he's heard about. Top floor - big windows, mutant friendly. Hell, the place was run by mutants and it seemed to be gaining quite the fanbase in District X.

His shoulders were slouched a bit, his footsteps sluggish despite the determination strung tight across his shoulders. This needed to be done - he had to find out what had really happened to Tommy and nobody else was helping.

Reaching the door, Calvin checked the name plate and then pulled one hand free so he could rap his knuckles against the wood beneath it.

"We're open!" Bishop called out in response, closing the open case files on his desk for privacy's sake and turning on his desk lamp to provide as much light as possible for the customer. It was an illusion he always felt a Detective's office should maintain, illumination.

Opening the door, Calvin made himself stop slouching - he'd pretty much been slouching ever since they found Tommy. His patients noticed, his coworkers noticed, and nurse management at the hospital was being really, really uncooperative. He'd gotten to the point where he didn't really care, though. He just needed to get some answers.

Maybe then he'd be able to move on.

"Hey," he said, stepping inside. "I'm Calvin Hobbes. I need some help and I'd like to hire your agency, are you free to talk now? I wasn't sure if I should make an appointment or something."

Bishop shook his head and motioned with a hand to the seat in front of his desk. "Most detective offices are walk in and I'd be glad to help how I can. You can start by asking about my credentials if that matters to you, once you start telling me about the case I'm going to be asking all the questions." Even though his demeanor would forever be dominant, the statement wasn't aggressive, just relaying a fact.

"Nah, everyone in District X knows you're certified or whatever. That stuff with the woman over the summer, the holistic healer or whatever - word got around," Calvin said, seating himself. He stuck his hands back in the pockets of his hoodie and stared at the knee of his jersey shorts for a moment. "You guys, you've got a good reputation with helping us - mutants. And I can't get any help anywhere else. The cops, they don't care."

He frowned for a moment, then went ahead and said what he needed to say. "I'm gay. They seem to hold that against me, like that's even worse than having the x-gene. My boyfriend, he went missing a while back and they didn't even bother to start a real investigation or anything. I mean, I did, but they didn't actually look for him. They said it mutants like me moved around all the damn time, anyway. He'd probably just skipped town. And then they found him dead."

Calvin met the larger man's eyes then. "They haven't really been investigating his death, either. I don't know if it was anything more than... an accident or something, but... they won't even talk to me about it. They're not doing anything. It's like he didn't matter. And he did, alright. Tommy mattered. So I need your help to find out what happened to him. Can you help me?"

"I can try. What were his abilities? And what are yours?" Bishop leaned back in his chair, pulling a legal pad from one of his desk drawers so he could begin taking notes.

"Tommy could generate heat," Calvin answered. "And his full name was Thomas Gallagher. I can morph into a stuffed animal. A cat, specifically. Orange with black stripes. White paws and a white stomach. What does my mutation matter?"

"It might not. I don't know anything yet so I want as much information as possible." Bishop scribbled shorthand notes as they spoke. "Do you eat, drink, breathe once you morph?"

"No, no, yes," Calvin answered, still not sure why the investigator was focusing on his power instead of Tommy's. "But Tommy generated heat, like I said. When the power in our building went out last year, he just walked around from floor to floor every couple hours with his powers on and kept it comfortable until the city could fix the problem."

"What's the highest tolerance material he could melt?" Bishop made a few check marks to track the answers to his last questions.

"He made jewelry," Calvin said. "Worked with gold and copper and silver - I think he could hit at least 2000 degrees Fahrenheit when he concentrated. Otherwise it was just... kind of like he put it off naturally." This was farther than the police had gotten. "He had to be careful if he got angry, though. And it could build up, if he hadn't gone to work because of holidays or whatever."

"So he uses them for work. When do you use your powers?" Bishop continued to quickly scribble, drawing incoherent lines and tags to some notes.

"For work," Calvin answered. "I'm a nurse at Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital."

Bishop broke a smile and laughed softly for a moment. "And cops think they're noble." He clearly wasn't laughing at Calvin but was appreciating him. "What about at home? Ever change just to do it? To be more specific, is it possible Tommy was softened up by ingesting or drinking something someone might have known you wouldn't have?"

"No, I don't think it could have been anything like that. The apartment wasn't broken into and I don't just like, hang out as a plushie on my days off, you know? Anything he would have been eating, so would I, even if it was after I got off the night shift or whatever." Calvin took a slow breath and then said, "Look, other people have gone missing. I think somebody's doing this on purpose, like a serial killer targeting mutants, and whatever they think about their nobility, the cops aren't helping. Like I said, they put the disappearances down to mutants skipping town."

"Some of us care." Bishop looked to Calvin reassuringly. "What I'm doing right now is looking for the means. Opportunity is easy and motive is psychological guesswork shit. Means is the best thing I have to hold on to and serial killers find one thing that works and they use that repeatedly. If I can find out how exactly he was taken I can look for other people taken the same way and give myself more evidence then I'll know what to do with."

"Okay, well - I can go over what people've said happened before he went missing, but it's all stuff that the police know already." Calvin wasn't sure what to do with the fact that the man in front of him, Bishop according to the little plaque, was apparently a cop. What kind of cop ran an investigative agency on the side? "Am I a suspect? I mean, they say on TV that the spouse is always a suspect - is that why you were asking me all those questions about my mutation?"

Bishop laughed, smiling politely. "You're not a suspect. TV isn't really good at capturing the intricacies of an investigation in any meaningful way."