His spluttering was incoherent, but it didn't really need to be coherent given that it was spluttering for the sake of spluttering. She knew she had him, and as he pulled his coat on and let himself be ushered back outside, he stuck his hands back into his pockets obstinately.

He could disappear them with a click of his fingers. He could take Kathryn home without them, leave them in the street for people to discover and free at whim. He could have it rain tribbles for three days solid and see what people thought of that. But he doesn't have to take them home at all, and yet that's exactly what he's doing, as though he's forgotten how his powers work.

"I haven't always wanted a pet, and if I had, I'd have gotten myself something interesting, like a bipedal android, or an Australopithecus. Something with real potential."