room, for confirmation. Garret shrugged. Teigan’s gaze shifted to Carthridge. The V-10 inclined his head.
John popped another bubble.
“Cut that out,” Carthridge told him mildly, “Or I’ll make you cut it out.”
“Whatever,” John said, probably deciding the V-10 wasn’t serious. Teigan wasn’t sure he’d bet on that. The bubble snapping was grating, and Carthridge seemed to tolerate it less than most.
The panel lit up below John’s hands as he tapped and dragged. “You don’t like the popping, you don’t have to stay. I’ll give a holler when I see the big green guy or a dude with blades poking out of his knuckles.”
“What are you talking about?” Teigan’s own exasperation level with John was about to the roofline by now. When it wasn’t the gum snapping, it was the irrelevant comments, when it wasn’t that, it was the whining. He found himself wishing Carthridge would make an example of the schmuck.
“You know…” Snap-crack-pop.
Carthridge’s lips thinned. Garret’s face went from impassive to downright stony.
“Superhero dudes, the Hulk, Wolverine?” John expounded.
Teigan rolled his eyes. John had a death wish. John glanced at Garret, who’d moved closer to look at the screen. The ex-soldier gave the research tech his blank statue expression in response.
John shook his head with dramatic sympathy. “Man, you guys are deprived. Those old Marvel comics are major collectors’ items. And those dudes were so much better than Mysterio or Canidae.” He swiveled the chair so he could see both Garret and Carthridge. Snap-crack-pop. “Don’t tell me you guys were so sheltered that you’ve never even heard of them. They’re the only decent comic heroes the 22 nd century has spit out.” Snap-crack-pop.
Carthridge returned John’s questioning look with a glare that threatened violence.
John’s eyes widened marginally and his gaze flashed to Teigan, as if to say aren’t you going to do something about that? Teigan responded with an apathetic look. John spun back around.
“Okay then…let’s see what we can do.” John cracked his knuckles before his hands drifted across the panel in a playful dance. The screens flashed so fast, Teigan gave up trying to follow it. He opened his mouth to ask Garret about how he wanted to work out the meal duties, given it was his kitchen, when John let out a whoop.
“Got him,” he announced triumphantly.
Carthridge, who’d started to drift out of the room again, stepped back in.
“I wouldn’t call him a Superman, maybe Thor, though. Wrong color hair for Clark Kent.”
Teigan ignored John’s irrelevant banter and bent over the information screen, studying the young man with the curly blond hair and cocky grin who had his arms linked behind both Aria’s and a strikingly beautiful redhead’s back. The clip continued as the brother wheeled the ladies around, showing off to another set of recorders while the father and mother stepped up to the mike to grant a moment or two to the media sharks. The caption read: Idyliss family comes out to celebrate the release of blockbuster sensation, Pandora’s, latest album.
“I remember Pandora.” John tapped the screen where the clip had started to replay; the flaming redhead spread a grin and winked playfully. Aria’s smile, on the other hand, seemed plastered on. The noise? The crowds? Teigan couldn’t imagine what it must be like to not be able to see any of it and again felt a surge of pure male protectiveness.
“I was in my last year of college when she came out with her first album.” John nodded toward the young man on the screen who’d just given the media two-thumbs-up. “The brother looks pretty cut even in that tuxedo; lot of muscle for sixteen. Think he was another superhero?”
John sat back, propped his feet on the table, and popped a bubble. Immediately, he grimaced and glanced at Carthridge who was staring back, jaw muscle twitching.
“What do you think,
John popped another bubble.
“Cut that out,” Carthridge told him mildly, “Or I’ll make you cut it out.”
“Whatever,” John said, probably deciding the V-10 wasn’t serious. Teigan wasn’t sure he’d bet on that. The bubble snapping was grating, and Carthridge seemed to tolerate it less than most.
The panel lit up below John’s hands as he tapped and dragged. “You don’t like the popping, you don’t have to stay. I’ll give a holler when I see the big green guy or a dude with blades poking out of his knuckles.”
“What are you talking about?” Teigan’s own exasperation level with John was about to the roofline by now. When it wasn’t the gum snapping, it was the irrelevant comments, when it wasn’t that, it was the whining. He found himself wishing Carthridge would make an example of the schmuck.
“You know…” Snap-crack-pop.
Carthridge’s lips thinned. Garret’s face went from impassive to downright stony.
“Superhero dudes, the Hulk, Wolverine?” John expounded.
Teigan rolled his eyes. John had a death wish. John glanced at Garret, who’d moved closer to look at the screen. The ex-soldier gave the research tech his blank statue expression in response.
John shook his head with dramatic sympathy. “Man, you guys are deprived. Those old Marvel comics are major collectors’ items. And those dudes were so much better than Mysterio or Canidae.” He swiveled the chair so he could see both Garret and Carthridge. Snap-crack-pop. “Don’t tell me you guys were so sheltered that you’ve never even heard of them. They’re the only decent comic heroes the 22 nd century has spit out.” Snap-crack-pop.
Carthridge returned John’s questioning look with a glare that threatened violence.
John’s eyes widened marginally and his gaze flashed to Teigan, as if to say aren’t you going to do something about that? Teigan responded with an apathetic look. John spun back around.
“Okay then…let’s see what we can do.” John cracked his knuckles before his hands drifted across the panel in a playful dance. The screens flashed so fast, Teigan gave up trying to follow it. He opened his mouth to ask Garret about how he wanted to work out the meal duties, given it was his kitchen, when John let out a whoop.
“Got him,” he announced triumphantly.
Carthridge, who’d started to drift out of the room again, stepped back in.
“I wouldn’t call him a Superman, maybe Thor, though. Wrong color hair for Clark Kent.”
Teigan ignored John’s irrelevant banter and bent over the information screen, studying the young man with the curly blond hair and cocky grin who had his arms linked behind both Aria’s and a strikingly beautiful redhead’s back. The clip continued as the brother wheeled the ladies around, showing off to another set of recorders while the father and mother stepped up to the mike to grant a moment or two to the media sharks. The caption read: Idyliss family comes out to celebrate the release of blockbuster sensation, Pandora’s, latest album.
“I remember Pandora.” John tapped the screen where the clip had started to replay; the flaming redhead spread a grin and winked playfully. Aria’s smile, on the other hand, seemed plastered on. The noise? The crowds? Teigan couldn’t imagine what it must be like to not be able to see any of it and again felt a surge of pure male protectiveness.
“I was in my last year of college when she came out with her first album.” John nodded toward the young man on the screen who’d just given the media two-thumbs-up. “The brother looks pretty cut even in that tuxedo; lot of muscle for sixteen. Think he was another superhero?”
John sat back, propped his feet on the table, and popped a bubble. Immediately, he grimaced and glanced at Carthridge who was staring back, jaw muscle twitching.
“What do you think,
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