Nicky was hanging around the entrance trying to dry off the wriggling Razi. He'd taken the puppy out for a good run letting him do his business. He knew to dry the dog off quickly though he was from a warm place and it was very cold here in Russia.
He looked up when the door opened checking out the man that stepped inside. "Hello."
One of Sinister's eyebrows lifted and he paused in the hallway, snow from his boots turning to water on the tiles. "Hello." Had he been anywhere else he might have simply walked past the child, but he was not anywhere else; he was among mutants. Perhaps this small boy...?
The thought thawed Sinister's disapproval. "I think your dog is out of place here in Siberia," he said, his voice cool and English.
"It's not my place to tell you whether or not you can keep the dog," Sinister said. He readjusted the duffel on his shoulder. "So long as you don't bring it into the infirmary. I was merely commenting that it's African."
Spending years as an obstetrician did not give one skills with children and the four shinning years that Sinister had spent being a father were, literally, centuries removed from him.
After the last few interactions she'd had with her team members, Olivia had decided that not all of them were bad people. She could handle being out amongst her teammates, and she had to. Jack was right. If she didn't grow a backbone, she'd be eaten alive.
She was taking a book to the rec room when she nearly ran into a man who'd just walked through the doors. Her eyes wide, she paused right before she bumped into him and she snatched her hand back.
Sinister had automatically raised a hand to stop the collision but froze as she jerked herself backward from him. "No harm done," he said calmly, clearing not as worked up about the near miss as she was. "What are you reading?"
He reached out, merely intending to push the book up far enough so that he could read the title.
Olivia took a deep breath, pulling her hand back. She didn't want to touch anyone. She'd briefly debated wearing gloves, but the ones she had for the cold here would have been terribly inconvenient.
Not that frantically avoiding touching anyone wasn't.
She straightened the book so that he could see, half-flinching back from his reach. Legality of Evolution: The Mutant Dilemma
Sinister did not bother to react again to her flinching. She could walk away or she could stay and flinch--it was her prerogative, not his.
The book, on the other hand, was interesting. "Dunbeck is an idiot," he said conversationally, referring to the author of the coffeetable literature that she was holding onto.
Hope had heard there was supposed to be a new doctor coming. She was sort of surprised that they were getting another one so soon. Of course, the continually rising population of the camp might have made it necessary even though she thought the three of them could handle it quite well.
Her curiosity, though, got the better of her. She found out the expected arrival time and made sure she was waiting when the Jeep arrived.
Sinister hadn't even gotten the door closed behind him when his eyes found the woman waiting in the hall, her white coat proclaiming her profession as loudly as a lit marquee. A welcome wagon. A small smile ticked the corners of his mouth upward and he leaned back on the door to shut out the chill of wind and snow.
"Hello. Waiting for someone?" Sinister's voice was low and smooth, his accent English. He tamped snow from his boots and pulled off his gloves.
"I am indeed," Sinister said, catching her hand with a firm, precise shake. "Nathan Milbury. I do hope I hold up to expectations." And while he still wore the small smile the words were not flirtatious at all.
"Who says the population is stable?" she countered, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over chest. "My work suggests that the gene is a double recessive trait that can be corrected by certain protein. It could die out like hundreds of other mutations no ones ever noticed."
Sinister's mouth tightened into a line, his jaw clenching. Corrected. That bit of science infuriated him utterly. "The only reason that 'correction' works is because the RNA blindly react to the largest difference in the genome," he said through his teeth, his head giving a single, sharp shake. "Scientific shorthand." It was nearly a snort. Contemptable.
Well, his ego was sensitive. She'd have to keep that in mind when arguing. Except, she had a valid point and she was technically correct. He could be offended all he wanted.
"That blindly reacting RNA could wipe out an anomalous gene with enough generations. When the RNA stops, I'll believe we're evolving."
Sinister wondered how a mutant could think herself a lucky chance of genetic makeup. "Given enough science, any real evolutionary step could be willfully lost. That vaccine is not a naturally occuring. You could be labeled anomalous and forgotten merely because some person thought you were and had the science to make it so."
Two centuries removed and Sinister was, in some ways, as good as buried with Darwin.
Comments 61
He looked up when the door opened checking out the man that stepped inside. "Hello."
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A child in a military installation.
One of Sinister's eyebrows lifted and he paused in the hallway, snow from his boots turning to water on the tiles. "Hello." Had he been anywhere else he might have simply walked past the child, but he was not anywhere else; he was among mutants. Perhaps this small boy...?
The thought thawed Sinister's disapproval. "I think your dog is out of place here in Siberia," he said, his voice cool and English.
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Razi rubbed up against the boy's legs leaving damp marks on the material of his pants.
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Spending years as an obstetrician did not give one skills with children and the four shinning years that Sinister had spent being a father were, literally, centuries removed from him.
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She was taking a book to the rec room when she nearly ran into a man who'd just walked through the doors. Her eyes wide, she paused right before she bumped into him and she snatched her hand back.
"Oh. I'm terribly sorry."
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He reached out, merely intending to push the book up far enough so that he could read the title.
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Not that frantically avoiding touching anyone wasn't.
She straightened the book so that he could see, half-flinching back from his reach. Legality of Evolution: The Mutant Dilemma
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The book, on the other hand, was interesting. "Dunbeck is an idiot," he said conversationally, referring to the author of the coffeetable literature that she was holding onto.
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Her curiosity, though, got the better of her. She found out the expected arrival time and made sure she was waiting when the Jeep arrived.
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"Hello. Waiting for someone?" Sinister's voice was low and smooth, his accent English. He tamped snow from his boots and pulled off his gloves.
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She hoped he was, otherwise she was going to look rather silly just standing here like this.
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"That blindly reacting RNA could wipe out an anomalous gene with enough generations. When the RNA stops, I'll believe we're evolving."
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Two centuries removed and Sinister was, in some ways, as good as buried with Darwin.
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