The police had been coming around all day. Searching for a dangerous criminal. Mrs. Kavanaugh didn't know what to make of it. She was a homemaker, pet owner, mother of four, winner of the Historic Preservation Award for her beautiful house, which was part of the Historical Society's Christmas tour. All this in a town she called Mayberry, where that kind of thing really counted for something.

When the fourth one showed up, she didn't even bother treating him like one of the authorities. She just gave him the tour like anyone else.

First the living room, dominated by the seven foot tall Jeffrey Pine draped with ornaments both store bought and homemade, dating back to many, many years in the past. Her second daughter was there, holding onto the pug as she'd been instructed to do in order to avoid torn pants legs. Actually, Bob didn't have the jaw strength to tear through anything but kibble, but he thought he was the fiercest guard dog ever to growl at the mailman, and he did get underfoot.

Mrs. K went through the usual speech about the architecture, competing with The Nightmare Before Christmas for volume. The movie didn't fit the theme of the house, but all her girls loved it, and at least it was about Christmas. She wasn't going to argue with that, but she did give the signal to get your feet off the furniture. A you're-ruining-my-life fifteen-year-old glare was all the response she got.

Past the surly teenager was the kitchen and dining room, where she went on at length about the authentic door handles and the difficulty of restoring the cabinets and plumbing, to the police officer's obvious annoyance. Well, it served him right for invading her house.

The computer room and downstairs bathroom weren't in keeping with the house's Victorian aesthetic, and therefore not part of the tour. She had to stop him from going into the bathroom.

"I don't think you want to open that door," she cautioned.

"Oh? And why not?"

"Because that's where we keep Giacomo when we have company." Before she could elaborate, her daughter came up behind her with the squirming pug.

"Mum, can I put Bob in the bathroom?"

"Just don't let Giacomo out." She opened the door wide enough for the little ham-shaped pup to wriggle through, giving the cop all the view he needed. Naturally, the room was empty except for the Saint Bernard pressed against the closet door, snoring thunderously. "I'd show you the washer and dryer, but I don't think Jock is ready to be moved." The policeman didn't seem to recognize the sarcasm in her voice. Most likely, he was too busy calculating just how wide those massive jaws would have to open to bite off a grown man's head.

Giacomo yawned.

"I can see you're very well protected." He took a hasty step away from the bathroom door. "I'm sure you don't ever have to worry about intruders."

"Not with him around," she agreed, and shut the door. There was a thud from upstairs that positively rattled the ceilings. Since it wasn't followed by a storm of screaming tears, she had to assume the little girls had conned their big sister into playing rodeo again. "It sounds like my girls are making a mess up there. You don't need to see the whole house, do you?" He hesitated.

"Well…"

It was then that the youngest shrieked, "Eddie! Stay away from the window!"

The cop's eyes went hard with suspicion.

"Eddie?"

"My cat," Mrs. Kavanaugh said evenly. "It's short for Edina Monsoon." He didn't crack a smile.

"Mind if I take a look upstairs?"

She folded her arms across her chest.

"Mind if I take a look at your search warrant?" They spent a few moments engaged in an epic staring contest. Naturally, he broke first. No man of woman born could withstand the patented Mom Stare.

"Ma'am, I can go back and get a warrant if you insist, but when I come back, if I find out you've been harboring a fugitive, you're going to be in a whole lot of trouble."

"Like my mum would ever harbor a fugitive. She's way too much of a dork."

Mrs. Kavanaugh tried not to smile. That just showed how much the kid knew about her mother's wild youth.

"I don't want you scaring my little girls. They're up there playing with their sister and her friends. I don't want them thinking there's anything to be afraid of."

"I'll just take a look around. I swear."

She followed him up the stairs. No matter how careful he was, she knew her monster child would be sure to ruin it later by telling the younger ones the absolute worst story she could think of—and she was a very imaginative girl. Still, it couldn't hurt to try to protect them.

Kitty litter was scattered all over the floor. They'd been chasing the cat around again.

She could hear squeals and shouts of, "Get up, horse!" coming from the girls' room.

The policeman moved forward and opened the door. As expected, the room was a total mess, with stuffed horses and dress-up clothes scattered all over the floor. And the two little girls, along with the angry kitty, were bouncing up and down on their sister's back. She lay on the floor, groaning, while her friends had a good laugh at her expense.

"Get off your sister before you kill her! You'll break her back."

"No, it's okay," the weary pony protested immediately, and somehow heaved her way up to her hands and knees. She even made a token attempt to buck them off the way she had done when they were younger, though the two of them together more than outweighed her now.

The girls bounced again, and their pony collapsed with a breathless whinny.

Now, did they really look like the kind of people who would hide a criminal from the police?

She let him talk to her daughters for a few minutes, supervising with a stern maternal stare. After hearing one of the guests speak up with her strong Midwestern accent, he put his focus on the children. He was very careful of their delicate sensibilities, and perhaps more than a bit unsettled by the feeling of disapproving eyes boring into the back of his head.

When the cop finally got it into his head that he wasn't going to find anything, she offered him a glass of lemonade and sent him on his way. With any luck, the authorities wouldn't think any more investigation would be necessary.

Either way, she should let the dogs out, at least for a little while. When she opened the bathroom door, Bob waddled out, curled up on the rug, and instantly went to sleep. Giacomo raised his head to look at her, a long strand of dog drool hanging from his drooping jowl.

"Get up, big guy. Landry time." The dog staggered to his feet, sliding on the tile floor and favoring his bad hip. He came to her looking for affection; she had to turn his head away with both hands to avoid getting a trail of slobber across her chest. "Okay, I love you, too. Now, go slime Bob. He likes it." There was a muffled thump from the closet where the washer and dryer were kept. Giacomo slammed his back end into her, almost knocking her off her feet, as he turned around to investigate what he had evidently forgotten was there.

Mrs. Kavanaugh opened the closet door and found herself glaring down at a sooty, disheveled man in an oversized leather jacket, who she never would have recognized as the infamous Riddler if she hadn't known to look for him. He started to try to get up from his cramped spot between the dryer and the wall, only to freeze in place when Giacomo ambled over to stare down at him, no more than an inch away, licking his lips compulsively. There was no sound but the steady slurp, slurp, slurp.

"Um." He tore his eyes away from the dog to stare up at her, absolutely frozen with fear. "Hi. Is—um—is your dog going to eat me?"

She rested her hand on Giacomo's back. He looked up at her, then leaned forward to bury his nose in the Riddler's hair, sniffing energetically. She waited until the man was visibly shaking before she spoke up.

"So, Riddler, just what are your intentions toward my daughter?"

"I—C—Captain? I don't—" Giacomo resumed licking his lips. The Riddler flinched.

"I keep telling her she should move up here with us. I don't think she's making the right kind of friends where she is."

"Oh," he said nervously. She sighed in irritation. Giacomo imitated the sound.

"Are you going to take her with you, back to Gotham?"

"N…no?" he hazarded.

"Don't be so sure, Riddler. I know my little girl. She likes you. She likes the idea of coming to your rescue, and she's going to keep doing it whether you ask her to or not. You might as well just give in."

"Anything you say." She almost laughed. What a wuss, intimidated by a woman and her brain-damaged, epileptic drooling teddy bear of a dog. He was just lucky she hadn't called her husband up out of the basement.

"She's good at getting her friends out of trouble, but she's even better at getting herself into it. You'd better keep your eye on her. If anything happens, you'll answer to me."

Giacomo's stomach rumbled. The Riddler stopped breathing.

"Mum!"

She turned around to smile at her firstborn.

"Hey, sweet pea. How long have you been standing there?"

"Oh, Mum, did you have to set the monster dog on him? He just got fear gassed yesterday, and he wasted most of the antidote on us. Give the guy a break." She dragged the dog back by his collar and extended a hand to her friend to help him up. He eyed Giacomo warily. "Oh, relax. He doesn't bite. He doesn't even bark or growl. He just wants you to pet him. And he's only licking his lips like that because he thinks he can get a t-r-e-a-t out of you."

Her mum smiled.

"You know, if you'd ever brought home any boys before the supervillain, we would have gotten the shotgun cleaning out of our system already."

"He's not my boyfriend! Don't worry, Eddie. They don't even own a gun."

"As if we'd need one." Her husband was a big man. All he'd have to do was loom a little bit and scowl, and he could have any would-be son-in-law running scared.

"Mum, seriously. I'm just trying to help out a friend, okay? I'm not running off to Gotham to be his girlfriend or his sidekick. As soon as I get him home safe, I'll go back to being a boring, law-abiding citizen, and this will never happen again."

Oh, the silly girl, thinking she could hide the truth from her own mother.

"It better not. Now, would you and your friends like some fresh baked cookies and milk?"

Her daughter brightened.

"Oh, yes! That sounds great."

"Then you'd better get baking." She dragged Giacomo out of the bathroom to give the kids some privacy—as much as was possible with that many nosy kid sisters lurking outside the doorway.

The Captain turned to Eddie with a hesitant smile.

"So, uh…do you want to be my stirring buddy?"

"But that's my job!" the youngest sister and the first mate yelled at the same time.

With an affectionate groan, the Captain laid her head on the Riddler's shoulder.

"Welcome to the family, Eddums. Next time, we're hiding out with Al's parents."

Out of sight, her mother smirked. There was always going to be a next time.

Much thanks for reading! The story that follows is "Strays."