Xaviers!

Late night after the alien menace, Basil was quite drunk. He managed to not throw up in their Uber ride which was fortunate as they might need to call on him again to get back to the institute.

Basil just kind of threw money at the make shift cabbie until he stopped complaining then got out of the car and took a big whiff.

"Here we are then! The Kebab shop!"

It was charitable to call this place a hole on the wall. From what Diego could tell from his vantage point the place was standing room only. There was a single picnic table outside with no umbrella, but what customers were hanging about were all standing and eating right there.

If they were more sober, Diego might realize the other patrons too were drunk.

Diego's nostrils flared as he caught the smell of food.

"You Brits real.... really take t' late night snacking doncha?" he asked.

"Gotta get th'food inside less th'booze poison ya entirely, eh?"

"Aren't you... like... s'posed to eat first?"

"Were you hungry b'fore th'drinks? Cos I wadn't."

"Point tak'n... less order b'fore we catch our deaths of munchies."

"Alright, stay here mate. I can handle this."

Basil made quick work of getting them both something to horf down and took the liberty of ordering for Diego since it was clear he was thinking of a nice shish and not what the British would term 'a proper kebab'.

What Basil came back with and handed over to Diego would remind Diego of a overstuffed gyro with french fries shoved inside of it because clearly greasy fried potatoes was what a gyro was missing.

"I got you chicken. Nobody does not like chicken." The would-be librarians words spiraled out of eloquence the more gin was put into his mouth. But maybe the horridly disgusting creation he was currently shoveling into his food hole would counteract that some?

"Wait... this is what you meant?" the catboy asked with a dubious look at the "proper" kebab. He shrugged and took a bite of the messy construction. His expression showed that he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

"Yea mate! Kebab!" Basil insisted. "You dun like it?"

"Just didn't know what to expect from," a mutant Turkish burrito "it is all. It's not bad."

Basil, being still visible, was fully capable of staring at Diego sidelong skeptically as he chewed.

"You wan'me t'go getchu a shish 'nstead?" He said around a mouthful of food.

"Dude. It's fine. I'll eat it and I'll like it 'cause it's meat. Relax. It's just a new flavor experience."

Basil's head weaved back forth a bit, dithering in thought before abandoning the care entirely and going back to his food. He began walking in the rough direction of the school, if he remembered correctly anyways.

"Do you have'a girl?" He asked, again forgetting his manners entirely.

Behind Basil and Diego, a figure moved along the street in the same direction they happened to be going, but they were still in the town so it wasn't like that was unusual... right?

"I wish," he chuckled with a sigh. He didn't seem to be remotely aware that there was anyone behind them.

"You'll get one." Basil reassured with a smile in between bites.

"Maybe I can help. What kinda girl do you like?"

"Someone strong but kind... I guess. The most important thing though? The ability to put up with my goofy ass."

"And if I'm honest... booooobs," he smirked boyishly.

"Someone who is strong n' nice n' doesn't take themselves too seriously, witha jumper fulla strawberry creams."

Basil shoved his Kebab in his mouth and gave the other boy the double thumbs up.

"Got it. On th'case." He said after taking the food out of his mouth but not forgetting to take a bite when he did.

"So you're like a date-tective on the side?" he joked after a bite. "Match dot bloke?"

"Yea, somethin' like that." Basil says. "I jus' don't like bein' lonely n' I suspect nobody else does either.

I don't have'a power like everyone else does. I can't save lives. In fact, several people have pointed out how well I'd be at destroyin' 'em in various ways since I got here.

But s'like... If I can help two people meet each other, even if it never comes t'more than casual friendship, that's helping in a fashion, right? Even superheroes need direct admiration a'some kind. I think anyways." He added, taking another bite of food as they rounded a corner away from the street populated with drunks and back towards the school.

"N' I don't know alotta people, but I meet alotta people, so I'm familiar with most students on campus."

The figure too 'rounded the corner with them onto the quieter street, at a safe distance from them of course.

Diego's ears finally picked up footsteps behind them but he didn't think it was anything more nefarious than a fellow pedestrian. Maybe in Vegas but not in Maldon.

"Well 'm not a totally cool superhero yet... dun even haffa name yet."

"Oh, yer not goin' with Catman?

What about Th'Invincible Moggy?"

"Th'who to the what now?" he asked as he became randomly transfixed by a street light, though not enough to stop walking.

"Like a not breed cat? A plain old regular cat?

Unless I have mistaken ya for plain folk when yer actually th'Arch-Duke'a Nevada."

Out of the corner of Diego's eye the figure ducked away, out of his sight.

"I've literally never heard..." he said before abruptly stopping and turning to face where the figure had been.

"Huh..." Basil frowned thoughtfully, onion sauce stuck to his face.

" Well then, what do Yanks call cats that aren't breed cats? Like a cat that's not a Siamese, or Persian or somethin'?"

Basil didn't even really register why Diego had stopped.

The figure did not approach them, but with Diego's cat like night vision there was no mistaking that he was still there.

Whoever it was sucked at hiding, if that is what they were trying anyways.

"We call it a cat," he said as he considered what to do.

"You okay there guy? Cuz if you think you're hiding you must be senile."

"Fine, thank you." He replied after a long pause.

From the distance, Diego couldn't tell much about him. He had a beard though, and layered clothes, a trench over the top.

Also, his accent was obviously fake, but Diego wasn't savvy enough on Brit speak to figure out how.

"Uh-huh... well... have a nice evening," he replied before turning and pressing Basil onward.

"Just keep walking and don't provoke the weirdo following us," he whispered.

"....... kkkkkaaaaayyy." Basil said, trying to go with the flow of things as he was pseudo shoved along.

"How come you just call them cats?" He asks, figuring going back to the conversation at hand as if nothing was wrong was probably their best option.

"That's dumb."

Once they started walking again, the man would allow for more distance, but would eventually start following again.

"Because Americans have no respect for breeding?" he guessed.

"Mmm, sounds more like you've no respect for lack of it. Like 'Eh, they've no breedin', why distinguish them?'

All pusses need love mate." Basil replied, not even aware of how it might come off.

"What affection is there in... say that again?" he smirked.

"Pusses? Plural of puss?

Why have you not heard any'a these words? What d'they teach you in English class over there?"

"The whole sentence. Think about it," he snickered.

"What?" Basil said, nearly finished with his food and staring at Diego completely dumbfounded.