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It was finally quitting time, Donovan decided after hours of working on something for a client. He was pretty tired, and it was past midnight. The young man cleaned up and headed inside from the garage, on his way to the kitchen to wash his hands. He washed his hands in the kitchen sink of all the grease and grime that they had been covered in from working in the garage.

He started to dry them with a towel when he noticed something strange; the frog purse he had left on the table was missing. Was... someone in his house?
Alarms went off in Donovan's head, followed by the urge to bring this would-be burglar to justice. Donovan took out a wrench from his utility belt, and slowly made his way to the living room first.

The house seemed quiet, but he was sure he heard a faint noise somewhere. Shuffling? It was headed to his.... spare room with the collections of antique tea sets. Not only was his little obsession a secret, it would be terrible if they were broken or stolen!

Donovan was a little hastier in making his way closer to the noise. But soon he stopped, his arms dropping to his sides and staring at the end of the hall. There, dressed in green footy pajamas made to look like a cartoon frog, was a little toddler. The little guy couldn't be older than two, yet he was here alone, sitting and looking up at the door.
The little boy sighed a bit, slouching over. "Iss looocked.." The little boy then noticed Donovan at the end of the hall, and recognized him immediately. He smiled widely, his red eyes shining with admiration.

Donovan's mouth was gaping open, in total awe and confusion of what he was seeing. Somehow, he knew that this was not only the so called 'burglar', he had a feeling it was the weird purse he bought, simply because he/it gave off the same wave.
The little frog boy hobbled his way over to the young man, looking up expectantly and stretching his arms up. "Up!"

"Oh no... No no no no." Donovan said shakily, waving his finger at the kid and putting away his wrench with the other. "I didn't buy a kid, I bought a purse. You are not a purse. Change back. I can't have kids, I don't want kids. That's what the condoms were for all this time!" Donovan said in a panicked tone. The little boy didn't seem to understand, simply staring intently at Donovan with those big honest eyes. "Daddy, I'm thirsty." Said the frog boy, fidgeting with the glove parts of the pajamas. The boy seemed very uncomfortable in them.
"No no no! D-don't call me daddy. I'm not your daddy. I'm...dreaming. Totally dreaming." Maybe he had too many engines running at once in the garage. Maybe he's dead?
Regardless, Donovan couldn't do much about this unexpected visitor right now. It was way too late at night to take it back to the shop. He'd have to do it in the morning.

Donovan sighed and rubbed his temples. The boy started to make a strange sound in the back of his throat. Donovan froze and stared down at the boy. "What are you doing?" The small boy coughed up the quarters he had been force fed from when he was a purse, wiping his mouth with his sleeve after. "Augh! P-pick that up!" Donovan said out of shock. The boy looked down at the quarters. Suddenly, his tongue whipped out like a frog's tongue, picking up one of the quarters with the sticky end of it and letting it return into his mouth. Donovan jumped back at the sight of it. "No! Not in your mouth, that's not where we keep coins!"

The little boy looked back up at Donovan after spitting it back out, staring with a look of confusion and worry. "B-but you said.." The toddler whimpered, his balled hands fidgeting with the fabric of his pajamas again.
Donovan sighed, ruffling his own hair. Okay, he thought, calm down. He's just a little kid.
Donovan knelt down, looking the kid over. He looked...oily? No, slimy? And his eyes had frog pupils, his skin was kinda sickly. So, he really was a frog boy from a purse.

"First off. Bath time." If the kid was slimy, the the inside of those pajamas had to be gross too. He can't send the kid back looking like this!
The kid seemed to like this idea, sniffling and wiping his tears away. "Water!"

The drive home from Tynne and Xai's house had been filled with Vance chattering at his father about all the things he liked about Tynne, who he had taken a real shine to, as well as the adventures with Mr. Bear. Donovan half listened as he concentrated on driving, also engaged in thoughts of the beautiful woman who fascinated him. It had started as lust, but now she just seemed to be a curious creature worth researching.

Once home, Vance ran into the house and turned to his father. "Daddy! Mr. Bear also talks!" He exclaimed, almost forgetting this amazing talent. Donovan chuckled a bit and shut the door behind him. "Is that so?" He knelt down in front of Vance. "Yeah! He told me his name, and he talked to me! See?" Vance turned the bear so it could talk to Donovan, awaiting the miracle to happen again.

But there was only silence. Vance's face went sad, and he turned the bear to face himself again. "But... he talked... wh-when it was just me and Tynne.." He whimpered, trying to figure out what went wrong. "H-he really did..."
Donovan was partly amused, but the guardian in him was hurt to see the little guy so sad. He scratched his cheek, his mind working up a nice white lie to help out. He couldn't say it only worked with kids and not adults, because what if Vance found another kid to play with and tried this again?

With a soft gasp, he found the answer. "Gimme Mr. Bear for a second Vance. I'm a Teddy Bear Doctor, as well as a mechanic." He said happily. The little boy sniffled, looking up hopefully at his dad. "Y-you think Mr. Bear is sick?" The boy asked nervously, choking back sobs. Why was Mr. Bear not talking anymore? Did he do something wrong? Had he not taken care of him?
Donovan ushered the boy to follow him into the garage. Vance shuffled after his father, whimpering and wiping his tears away.

Once inside, Donovan laid the bear on a work bench, shining a light over him. He hummed and hawed, looking over Mr. Bear carefully. Vance fidgeted by his father's feet, anxious to know what was wrong.
"Oh wow." Donovan said suddenly, "Mr. Bear is a really special bear." He bent down and scooped up Vance, sitting him down on the work bench. "It looks like he gave up talking to achieve telepathy." Vance looked confused, but he had stopped crying. "Telepathy?" He asked with some difficulty.
"Yep. It means he uses his mind to talk, but only to you now. He must really love you Vance." Vance's eyes lit up, his mouth gaping open then swinging his head to his teddy bear. He picked up his bear and held him close, trying to listen to his bears thoughts. Donovan waited anxiously, hoping this white lie would allow the boy to use his imagination to ease the situation.
Sure enough, Vance giggled and kicked his feet. "My teddy loves me most!" He said happily. "Mr. Bear says thank you!" He declared proudly to Donovan, who chuckled and smiled. "No problem, Mr. Bear."

Donovan scooped up Vance again and carried him out of the garage. "Now. Time to make dinner." He proclaimed. Vance cheered, still clinging tightly to his teddy bear.