Dedicated: To world domination. No, wait, let me check my notes .. ::coughs:: To LK and to anyone else quite that horrified.
Spoilers: Day of Reckoning.
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It wasn't even like they were actually there or anything, he was just watching a movie on TV. But for some reason the sight of a gaggle of enraged females waving pitchforks bought him out in a colder sweat than the wolf man creeping up with a hungry look behind them.
Twitch.
He bought his hand up to his eye, covering the spasm until it subsided and flipped channels with the remote until he found something nice and calming. Ah, a man armed only with a cork-covered hat and a slight crazed expression wrestling an alligator; that would do.
"Brad!"
"Aarrgh!!"
Twitch
He was on his feet in a moment, but relaxed his shoulders into a droop of relief as he recognised who had called from the doorway. Not the haunting gothic face that looked at him so reproachfully and been the theme of his nightmares since he'd ... woken up ... No, it was just Sinister.
"What are you doing? You're meant to be practising your accent, not watching a man being eaten by an opportunistic lizard"
"But I'm tired, and you still haven't ..."
Sinister's eyes glowed a, well, sinister, red. Brad let his shoulders droop and started again.
"Mais, non. Remy tired, an' you still haven' tol' him why he missin' a day in his mind! ... An' why he can't look at a mushroom wit'out havin' t' go lie down'."
"Better" The geneticist nodded. "And how have the contacts been doing, do you have any idea how hard they were to get?"
Brad muttered something under his breath and kicked one foot against the carpet. It sounded suspiciously to Sinister's ears like 'Racoons took them in the night'. No, it couldn't be.
"Speak up boy!"
"Racoons took them, in the night." Brad shrugged. "It was a thing."
Keeping his voice dangerously mild, Sinister replied.
"And the trench coat?"
"Well, I noticed it didn't have any armour. It should have armour, don't you think? To stop ... bullets. And ... trucks. And ... pitchforks. So I sent it back, and when it came back Colossus stole it to use a security blanket. He was the only one that could lift it."
Twitch
Brad watched the enormous frame of the scientist in the doorway without worry; it wasn't as if Sinister could afford to get that angry with him. After all, it wasn't like he could get a replacement, right?
"I ... see. Very well, come with me, I have a job for you now. Never mind the contacts, they'll just assume you have some already. People are willing to deny anything, you know."
Trustingly Brad followed on the heels of the man to the front of the warehouse that had been their temporary home while he recovered from his memory lapse. Sinister placed a heavy hand on his shoulder as he opened the door to the outside world. Outside there was a small sea of women carrying placards he couldn't quite read, even though he squinted.
"Who're they?"
"Why, your fan club, of course. Be a good clo ... er, Cajun and say hello."
Obediently, despite his misgivings, Brad trotted out to meet his people. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to read the signs proclaiming them to most definitely not be his people until he was almost in range. How unsporting of them to have used small writing.
Hidden and shielded by a dirty window, Sinister watched the quick and messy end of the latest of the copies. Honestly, he just couldn't understand where he was going wrong. Ah well, there would doubtless be enough blood spots left for him to try again.
Maybe this time he could do something about that ridiculous hair.
Twitch