Zam awoke to pain. His arm was almost completely numb but his shoulder ached, causing him to wince. Not that it was a particularly strong pain, it was more of a mild discomfort but it was still aggravating nonetheless. Then again, that was fairly standard given that he'd dislocated his shoulder merely yesterday and the pain was bound to hang around for a while, even if he had just popped it back into place.

He opened his eyes to find the source of the pain. He was in his bed and had rolled onto one side, specifically onto the injured shoulder, and he had his arms around a clothed blonde that was presumably Taylor. Now he remembered: last night the two of them had made a most strange development in their relationship and instead of engaging in rigorous rounds of coitus had settled for clothed cuddling and sleeping. This abnormal change of routine had led to this unfortunate position and now his arm was completely stuck underneath the blonde.

Zam tried tugging his arm free but it was no good. All that achieved was more pain and disturbing Taylor just enough so that she pulled the duvet more over herself. So now he was stuck, in pain and slightly cold. It was time to resort to desperate measures. He'd need to use his ridiculously large amounts of natural charm to coax the woman into freeing his arm from captivity but it wasn't going to be easy. The first stage in his masterstroke of a plan was to cosy up to her and gently wake her up.

"Morning," he said as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. Her eyes didn't open but a warm smile appeared on her peaceful face.

"Morning," she yawned before twisting her neck and returning the kiss. Excellent. Now she was completely under his spell and it was time for stage two.

"Hey Taylor," he began, speaking as softly as he could, "You're sort of on my arm and it's really hurting."

"Is it now?" she replied. A few seconds passed without her moving.

"Could you please get up?" This was preposterous! How could she have resisted his seductive powers?

"And whose fault is it?"

"Well, you because you're lying on top of it."

"And is that the original source of the pain?" Now she was just being plain mean. Zam was hit with a sudden realisation that Taylor was, in fact, holding his arm hostage! Had everything up until this point been an elaborate ruse just to get him in this situation? Was her name even Taylor? Zam really liked that arm. He couldn't just lose it like this. He'd need to try a different approach.

"Taylor," Zam said, if that was even her real name, "I dislocated my shoulder. That's why it's hurting."

"How did you do that?"

"Kicking arse and saving the day."

"Zam..." Now she was even raising her voice in a mother like fashion.

"It was when I grapple hooked onto that van yesterday," Zam said, half whimpering. "I think I reeled in too quickly and it dislocated. It was my fault. Next time I'll be more careful."

Taylor instantly sprang out of bed, a devious grin on her face. "That wasn't so hard was it?" She gave him a quick kiss on the lips before skipping out of the room, evidently happy with what she had managed to coax out of him.

Zam sat up and clutched his poor arm, gently stroking it. Being reunited with one of his favourite limbs filled him with joy. "I will never let harm fall upon you again."

He glanced over at his bedside cabinet and picked up his phone. According to a recent string of text messages, Emily had been tasked with a relatively interesting case as some kind of test to see if she was ready to take the step up and become a detective and she'd asked him to come along. He didn't even need to think about his response. With his activities for the day seemingly sorted, he grinned and got out of bed.

He heard a rather frantic knock at the main door but he wasn't even out of the bedroom by the time Taylor had answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello?"

"Hello?" This odd conversation seemed to go on for some time but Zam saw no need to assist Taylor with the stranger. After all, he was only wearing some shorts and it didn't seem all that appropriate to greet someone when he was half naked. Instead, he wandered around the bedroom, inspecting odd things that were scattered here and there.

"Who are you?" the woman at the door asked. Her voice was very familiar. Zam had now picked up his prized electric guitar and was pretending to play his theme tune, which was yet to be released to the general public.

"I'm Taylor Kelly," Taylor replied, sounding very confused. "Who are you?"

"Where is he? Where's my son?" the woman asked, ignoring Taylor's question. Zam froze. He knew that voice... how could he not have recognised it sooner?

"Mrs Hybrid!" Taylor squeaked as Zam charged into the room, looking fairly ridiculous.

"Mother!" he exclaimed. She gave him a totally bizarre look. Then again, he was topless and still holding on to his electric guitar so perhaps the look was entirely justified. "Please come in!"

She edged her way into the flat, eyes darting back and forth between Zam and Taylor. Zam could tell they were both being judged. It was the kind of motherly stare that nobody wanted to receive, the kind that nobody knew how to deal with. Zam knew he was in big trouble.

"Sit down!" he insisted. The best he could do was to try and soften the blow. "Tea?"

"Yes please darling." She gave a fake smile and sat in Zam's spot on the sofa. Now feeling well and truly desperate, Zam threw his guitar aside and reached for a mug on the counter. It must have been the tea that Taylor had been making him, it was still piping hot. Adding a dash more milk and giving a controlled yet vigorous stir, Zam hoped he'd concocted the perfect brew.

He passed Taylor who he was still standing awkwardly in the doorway, as though she'd lost the ability to move her legs, before handing over the mug to his mother. "There you go."

"Thank you," she smiled, taking a sip and seemingly enjoying it. It probably only lasted a few seconds, but the awkward silence that followed felt like a lifetime.

"So..." Zam began, "What brings you to my humble abode?"

"Your father and I were worried about you," she replied. "We haven't heard from you in a while so I decided to see you, just to check everything was ok."

"You could've just phoned," Zam pointed out.

"I did."

"Oh."

"Several times a day."

"I've... been busy," Zam said. Whilst it was true that he had been very busy lately, it was also true that he had stopped replying to her constant, nagging text messages, and he may or may not have ended up blocking her number.

"We called the university and they said you hadn't been attending lectures," she continued. She still looked fierce but he could tell a wave of emotion was coming over her. "We thought... we thought..." Without any further warning she burst into uncontrollable tears which would no doubt dampen Zam's favourite spot on the sofa. He had to act quickly.

He sat down beside her and put what he hoped was a comforting arm around her. "Come on Mother, I'm alright, aren't I? It was understandable to assume something had happened but there was no need to get quite so worried about it!"

"Sammy," she managed to say through sobs. If she said anything else, Zam couldn't make it out.

"Look, I know I should have answered your calls," Zam said softly, "I'm just trying to be more independent is all. I can't live my whole life with you worrying about me, can I?"

"Please come home Sammy," his mother said abruptly, having finally fought off her tears. "We miss you a-and you're not ready to be alone and... I just can't lose you. Not again."

"He's not alone." Both Zam and his mother swivelled around so quickly he was surprised neither of them got whiplash. Taylor was standing behind them, looking sheepish, and it looked as though she was about to come to his rescue. "He's got me."

"And who exactly is this girl?" his mother said, turning back to Zam. She looked desperate for him to lie.

"Ah, this is Taylor," Zam said, gesturing. "She is a girl and she is my friend and we have sex on a frequent basis." He may as well have stabbed his mother in the heart. It looked as though all life had been sucked from her, leaving behind a cold, empty shell.

"Girlfriend," Taylor interjected, face buried in her hands. "We agreed on the term girlfriend."

"I know but I still feel like this description more accurately depicts our relationship," Zam explained. "There is no possible way it could be misinterpreted."

They allowed time for Zam's mother to grieve, for the loss of her son's innocence was comparable to that of losing a loved one. Eventually she said, "So... you two are... together?"

"Most definitely," Zam nodded gravely.

"And is it serious?"

"Well it's not a joke if that's what you mean," Zam replied.

Once again, Taylor apparently felt the need to save him from this diabolical situation. "Yes, it's serious," she said, walking around the sofa to finally face Zam's mother. "These... living arrangements aren't temporary."

"Well... that's obviously... wonderful." She swallowed hard. Clearly, she had been under the impression that he was still a young boy, that he was still her little Sammy. Unfortunately enough for her, Zam had grown up. "But I still think you should come home if you're not going to bother going to uni—"

"I've already finished all my work for the year!" Zam defended. "I don't need to go to lectures."

"Then why do you have to stay here?" she asked. "Why can't you come home?"

"Because..." Zam started but his voice trailed off. After a few seconds of thought and he stood up, smiled and took a few steps towards Taylor, taking her hand. His mother watched, puzzled. "Because I'm happy here. We're happy here."

He glanced at Taylor who smiled and squeezed his hand. "Zam's right," Taylor agreed. "I know it's difficult to let go but we've been getting by just fine for almost two months now. I think Zam's ready, and if he's not, I'll always be here to help out."

"But..."

"I'll call more often, I promise," Zam said. "You've got to trust me Mother. I'm an adult now and I make my own decisions, and I'm staying put."

"I know that Sammy," his mother sighed. She looked as though she was conceding, although not necessarily in defeat. "I know I can't change your mind but please, just think about us back home? Come and visit every now and then, won't you?"

"We will," Taylor replied for him. Perhaps she didn't want to risk him saying the wrong thing.

"Well then," his mother said, standing up. "I suppose that's that sorted. Goodbye Sammy."

Without any further warning, he felt his mother's arms wrap around him, ensnaring him in their deadly trap. He was forced to drop Taylor's hand and forced to find a way out of this predicament before his lungs burst. "B-bye Mother," he barely managed to say.

Finally, he broke free. Just before she left, his mother turned slightly towards Taylor and said, "Taylor was it?" Taylor nodded. "Take care of my Sammy."

Zam closed the door behind her as she exited and breathed a sigh of relief. "Well that could've been a disaster."

"She calls you Sammy," Taylor pointed out. She was giving him a funny look, a sort of half smile.

"Yes, yes I suppose she does."

"You told me never to call you Sammy."

"I did."

"You told me you hate being called Sammy."

"I do."

"Well I think it's cute," Taylor said with a wide smile on her face.

"I don't care if you think it's as cute as a Jigglypuff in a tutu, you're not calling me it," Zam said flatly.

"So she can get away with it and I can't?" Taylor asked, sounding offended although he knew she was faking.

"She's my mother!" Zam protested. "I can't exactly put her on the naughty step, can I?"

"I'm your girlfriend," Taylor said smugly. "You can't exactly put me on the naughty step either, can you Sammy?" She gave him a small kiss, then she gave a devious little cackle and left the room, presumably to get washed and dressed.

Zam shook his head and sighed. It was bad enough that one person still felt the need to call him by that awful reminder of the little boy he once was, before he learned his true place in the world, but now Taylor was going to start using the name too? Feeling defeated, he picked up his guitar and began strumming and humming to himself. Dark times may well have laid ahead, but if a small rendition of Zam the Hybrid: I am Awesome didn't cheer him up, nothing could.