He doesn't get kicked out. (Thank god.)
But the landlady is increasing his rent.
She had made her displeasure very clear when he had arrived, carrying a half-asleep Dee on his back. They had started drooping a few blocks back, and afraid they might trip and fall (or simply decide to pass out in the middle of the street) he had picked her up and placed them on his back. She had surprisingly not bitten him. He likes to think they had managed to bond, at least a little bit. It was like the old lady had a sixth sense for gossip; every time something happened, her presence at the front lawn was to be expected, and this time it's no exception.
She had clicked her tongue, turning to her crusty little creature of a dog and speaking to it, "What did I tell you, Coco? I just knew nothing good could come from a guy like him." Once more, Kit was reminded of the landlady's fondness of throwing shade, especially when the party in question was right there. "With a lifestyle like his…" she clicked her tongue again.
'A lifestyle like his'...? What was she talking about…
She turned to address him, "Just because they might be your kid, that doesn't mean you can just bring them here and not tell me."
"Wh-what?" The pieces all clicked into place. "The kid? They're not mine. Well, they are… But not like that! I mean," he could feel a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face, "I'm not like their fa-... fath- their da- their parent."
She sniffed, "That's what they all say. Until the DNA test results come back."
He frowned. No, he would definitely remember if he had gotten involved with a shapeshifter 12 years ago.
"But I'll let it pass, the kid can stay here. But if this is going to be a permanent arrangement, just know your rent will be increasing. The bills won't pay themselves."
He could feel a muscle in his face twitch. What do you mean the bills won't pay themselves? Of course they don't! I do! You damn parasite! He had to swallow down his anger. "Of course," he answered, a stiff smile stretching out his features. He hoisted up Dee and walked towards the staircase at the right side of the building. His legs started groaning in protest at the thought of having to carry both of them to the third floor.
He somehow manages to make it, the short stretch towards his apartment at the end of the hallway feeling like an eternity. When he passes through the doorway and turns on the light to his small living area, he's confronted with another problem: there's only one bedroom.
He supposes the couch will have to do for tonight. He'll figure out something later, but right now his brain is too tired to do the work.
He takes Dee to his bedroom, lays them down on the bed and takes off their shoes. During the whole process, she doesn't even so much as stirr. He grabs a spare pillow and blanket and heads to the area that serves as a living room, but is in actuality just a space cleared to make room for a couch, a chair, and a prehistoric TV, all of which he had purchased at a flea market. He doesn't bother brushing his teeth, simply taking off his outer robe, shoes and tie, cramming himself into his couch. He's going to be sore all over come tomorrow morning, but that is a problem for future him. Present him just wants to sleep.
~~~
He's awoken to the sound of something crashing in his kitchen. He hopes it's the bowl his mother gifted him when he moved out.
Sadly, it's not.
"What are you doing?" he asks Dee when he sees them climbed on top of the cabinets.
"You don't have any food," she informs him, not answering his question.
"You- I don't?" No, that can't be right, he's sure he at least had some chips.
"Well not anymore." He notices the crumbs around her mouth. Ah, that would explain it…
"What did you break just now?" he decides to change the topic.
"I didn't."
"Yes, you did-" he trails off when he sees the shattered pieces of a mug on the floor. He can't say he's too sad about it though. It was an ugly mug. "What's this then?" he gestures to the pieces on the floor.
Dee shrugs, "Who's to say."
They're interrupted by a knock on the door. "You wait here. And don't touch anything else!" he warns them as he goes to open the door. He opens the door to see his next door neighbour, Phyllis, standing outside.
"I brought you some breakfast," she holds up a plate plus an additional topper with fruit in it, "hope it's alright?"
He almost cries tears of gratitude. Alright? It was more than alright! "Yes, yes, thank you so much," he takes the package from her hands. He's about to go back inside when it occurs to him it would be rude to at least not invite her in. "...Would you like to come in?" he asks hesitantly. It's been a long time since he's had anyone over, and his apartment is a total mess. With Dee, he didn't mind if they saw it (who cares about trying to impress a kid?), but with Phyllis... He felt like it was his mother the one coming in. Now that he thought about it, they were both very similar in age and even some of their physical traits were uncannily similar.
"That would be lovely!" she smiles kindly at him.
He opens the door wider to let her pass. Thankfully, she does not comment on the mess when she steps inside, instead her eyes are drawn directly to the top of the kitchen cabinet where Dee was.
"Oh, and who would this be?" she exclaims. "Is this your kid everyone was talking about?"
He chokes on his spit. "Uh-" It seems news travelled fast in this building. "Actually," he starts when he has finally regained his voice, "they're not…" Where Dee had been just seconds ago, there was now a fox. Looks like they had reverted back to their animal form when they had heard a new voice.
"For a minute I thought they meant an actual child," she laughs airily, "you almost gave me a scare before, you know? Why didn't you say so before?"
"Um…" He makes eye contact with Dee, with crumbs now littered all around their whiskers. Her eyes seem to be frantically asking who this new lady is.
"But isn't it illegal to own wildlife?"
"Actually, they're a rehab case," he comes up with the lie on the spot. This is going to come back to bite him in the ass later.
"Ah, I see," she nods. "Well, it was nice to meet them, but I'll leave you to eat now." He walks her to the front door, but before she goes, she turns to him with a concerned look on her face, "You can come to me and ask if you need anything."
He feels very awkward at this moment. "Um. Thank you, I appreciate it."
Phyllis nods, satisfied.
He looks at the clock when he enters the house again. 7:35… He has less than half an hour before he needs to clock in at eight. No time for a shower. He'll just brush his teeth and change his clothes then, and he can just take the topper with fruit to work and eat at the office.
When he emerges changed from his room, the plate with food has already disappeared, courtesy of Dee. He sighs; at least the fruit has been left intact.
"Dee," he calls out to her, "let's go."
They pop up from behind him. "Go where?"
"To the office," he informs her, "your training will start today."
~~~
"YOU!" the Director points at him as soon as he walks through the office's main entrance, "To my office! RIGHT NOW!"
Ah, shit, he mentally slaps himself. He had forgotten about it.
Dee pats his arm, as if telling him 'good luck, but you're on your own for this'.
Gnocchi, the nosy little pest that he is, had popped his head out from the backroom. (What did they have him doing in there? It felt like he'd been cooped up there for a whole week. He would have to make sure to ask him later. (If he survived.))
"Gnocchi," he calls out to him before he can disappear back into the room, "look after the kid here." He might as well deal with the consequences of his actions if he was going to stick his nose into other people's business.
They both pull a face at that.
"But Master Kit, I'm busy right now," he whines, "I don't have time to be playing babysitter."
Well obviously not busy enough if he still has time to be snooping around.
"I don't wanna go with him either," Dee scrunches up their nose.
"Just do as I say," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "And try not to destroy anything!" he calls out behind his back as he makes his way to the Director's office.
When he arrives, he finds Baz is already there, slumped on a chair, his appearance, usually impeccable, is dishevelled and just generally looking like he just woke up. Which, knowing him, he probably has; the only reason why he is here right now being Fluorite probably dragged him all the way from their house.
The office has been tidied up from yesterday; no longer are there books strewn everywhere and the papers are neatly stacked on the Director's desk.
"Shut the door behind you," the Director tells him.
The sound of the door clicking shut sounds like a death sentence.
She gestures for him to have a seat. "You both know why I called you here today, right?" Her index finger taps on the surface of the desk non-stop; she's clearly making an effort to restrain her temper.
"Enough with the formalities, just get to the point," Baz tells her.
Kit wants to clamp a hand over his palm. Was he an idiot or did he have a death wish?!
The muscles on her face spasm. "You-!"
"I don't have time for all of this," he waves his hand around.
The Director's patience reaches its limit. "You scoundrel! Do you have no shame?!" she shouts. "You don't come to work in days, and when you do, you just laze around doing nothing! You're almost thirty but you're still acting like a spoiled child all the time! Do you have no sense of responsibility?! What do you think Mom would say?!"
Baz tries to hide a yawn behind his palm unsuccessfully.
"Are you even listening to me, you good for nothing, lazy idiot?!" her temper flares, "You're a disgrace to the family! I'm ashamed to even be related to you…" The shouting goes on for the next twenty minutes, and by the end of it, the Director has completely forgotten Kit is even there, and she simply shoos them out of her office angrily. "Don't you dare try to slack off today or I'll kill you!" she threatens Baz as he's leaving.
"Yeah, yeah, sure thing boss," he agrees half-heartedly, shutting the door behind him. He turns to Kit, draping an arm across his shoulder, leading him down the hallway. "What did I tell you?" he shoots a grin at him, "I promised I would take responsibility."
Kit still feels too shaken to trust himself to speak without his voice breaking. "I- I really don't think that counts as taking responsibility…" he manages to say weakly.
"Technicalities," Baz laughs. "Lighten up a little, will you?" he gives him one last pat on the shoulder before he heads off towards the bathroom, leaving him standing in the middle of the office, dazed.
He's taken out of his stupor by the sound of a small explosion coming from the backroom.
Shit. He'd forgotten he'd left those two together.