“You’re kidding,” Alvin says flatly, eyes narrowed.
The doctor, in response, lifts one eyebrow. Even though it’s been years–over a decade–it still triggers an instinctive fear reaction in Alvin. He freezes, and she smiles, a slow creeping thing like a beast curling its lip back.
He lifts his chin. In humans, that would be a gesture of defiance, but in beasts…
“No, I’m not kidding,” the doctor finally answers, almost smug in her victory.
Alvin looks back down at the operating table, and ignores the persistent feelings of deja vu, of being a teenager lined up beside his teammates, listening to the doctor explain the latest mission. Before, there were pictures and files about the villain of the week. Now there are only two photos; the one on the left features a sullen-faced boy, the one on the right shows a somehow equally sullen looking lion cub.
“Cats and dogs, doctor!” he protests, futilely.
She is clearly unimpressed, “Hari isn’t some house cat, and you’re not a dog. Come now, Silverfang, what are you afraid of?”
The problem is, Alvin actually is a licensed foster parent. He needed to be in order to prove himself a suitable guardian for his niece and nephew.
It was a hassle to do–given the political climate a decade ago and the fact that he was, is, a homosexual bachelor–and so he makes sure to keep it up-to-date even though Diana and Jericho are both legal adults and have no need for him to do so.
Alvin didn’t really think it would be used against him, “Fine,” he huffs, “I’ll meet him.”