(( No Kitty, you didn't tell me. Glad to hear you do
))
“She agreed with me first.” Reid muttered disagreeably, folding his arms. Upon realizing that this was becoming exceedingly childish, he let out a worldly, resignant, put-upon sigh and started tapping his foot on the polished floor, mind flipping through acceptable Glamours with the speed of light. Brown hair possibly, maybe with a bit of curl and big, stupid blue eyes…
All of which proved to be redundant anyway, as Vivianna held up a vial of Polyjuice and shoved it into his hand. Reid’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline, thoughts pulsing through his mind: did she brew it herself, would she have poisoned it or sabotaged the effects, how utterly convenient it was that she had a vial of one of the most illegal Potions in her pocket when he was in need of it….
Reid didn’t hide his perusal, his slate eyes bored into the vial, scanning it for apparent defects. None, as far as the naked eye could tell. Then, the hard-as-nails stare shifted to Vivianna and he scoured her face with his gaze, hunting for weaknesses, for lies and untruths. His methodical mind listed out a series of deductions, Polyjuice was definitely more effective than a Glamour, Vivianna had no cause for sabotaging it, because his disguise faltering whilst in their presence would implicate them too. There was the minor irritation of actually owing her but…..well, Reid lacked the worthless thing called a conscience and he only owed someone if he
felt like he did. She couldn’t force him to anything.
Setting up a minor, non-verbal Notice-Me-Not Charm, Reid downed the vial in a smooth gulp, a drop or two making it past his lips. He bared them, to lick away at the drops with his tongue,
when he felt the presence of slightly sharpened canines. He smiled.
Zane had, quite obviously, given him free rein to do whatever he liked to obtain a ticket. But he was in company, and his friend did possess the worthless thing called a conscience, so Reid shelved the Imperius Curse which had sprung foremost to his mind with a self-suffering attitude. Ah well. A well-directed Vomiting Hex at a middle-aged man standing a few paces behind them, and a couple of handy Confundo’s later, Reid found himself on the plane to Greece with a free seat.
And a bucketload of annoying conversation surely. He was seated to the extreme left of three seats, next to the main aisle. The Princess (he shot her a tight smile in cooperation to her glare) was seated at the horizontal other end of the aisle, a few paces separating them. Zane would probably be sitting next to him, in between him and Varnes as a buffer. Reid could almost summon sympathy for his condition.
His head sank back on the plush seat, eyes closing. This was going to be a
long flight.