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Toad was squatting on a stool near the cash register when the cops came in. He thought about hiding on the ceiling, but decided against it; the natural instinct of a hunting dog was to chase.
Running was his *last* resort this season.
The two cops came straight to the register. "You do anything?" Jack muttered to Toad.
"Nothing new." He was wanted on kidnapping and some kind of conspiracy charges, but the cops didn't know what he looked like. Rumor had it they weren't sure how many accomplices Magneto actually had. Rumor also had it that the search had died down since Magneto was pinned like a bug in a glass case.
The cops were in suits. Detectives. The older one bellied up to the bar while the younger one held back, staring at Toad. Toad stared back.
"I'm Detective Tadfield. This is Detective Jones," the older cop said. "We're looking for someone."
Jack folded his arms. "I'm Jack. I own this place. I don't see nobody. Just their money."
Tadfield took a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket and looked at Toad. "Do you ever see anyone?"
"I see everyone," Toad said. "I'm the bouncer. It's me job."
"Ever see him?" Tadfield handed Toad the paper. It was a wanted poster, just like in the movies. Toad hadn't realized they actually did that. He wondered if there was a poster out there with his ugly mug on it.
The photo was of a too-skinny man with a scraggly chin-beard and a desperate look in his eyes. Apparently he was wanted for murder. Toad shrugged and passed the paper over the bar to Jack. "Never seen him. You?"
Jack glanced at it. "Sure, I've seen him. Isn't that the man on the five-dollar bill?"
"Very funny," Tadfield said. "Keep the paper. Call me if he starts to look familiar." He gave Toad his card. Toad tucked it away and Tadfield turned to leave, but bumped into Jones, standing stock-still behind him.
"What the fuck are you?" Jones said, still staring at Toad.
Toad gripped the edge of the bar stool between his feet. The cop's throat was so vulnerable--christ, for that matter, he could probably reach the cop's gun before he himself could. He could--
He could do a lot of things. He wasn't going to do anything. He was tired of running.
"I'm a mutant, you stupid cunt," he growled.
Jones was shaking his head slightly as an expression that looked like nausea deepened on his face. Tadfield grabbed Jones' upper arm. "We're leaving," Tadfield said. "We're not here to start trouble."
Toad didn't answer. He glared at Jones as Tadfield dragged him out.
"Cops," Jack barked. "They're all bastards. Have a drink on the house, Toad my boy."
"I'm not your boy," Toad said, but he remembered who he was talking to and smiled with one side of his mouth.
end for now.