OC Fic : The Amazing Adventures of the Berkeley Avenger, by Seth Cohen (1/2)
Title : The Amazing Adventures of the Berkeley Avenger, by Seth Cohen
Authors :
helen_c &
muchtvsocfic
Rating : R
Summary : The Amazing Adventures of the Berkeley Avenger. What else?
Spoilers : Set post-season 4. Enough said.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Acknowledgment : Many thanks to
joey51 for beta'ing this!
AN. Pure, unadulterated crack.
The Amazing Adventures of the Berkeley Avenger, by Seth Cohen
helen_c &
muchtvsocfic
PART ONE
Foreword
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Dear Readers,
Kick off your shoes.
Pick a comfortable chair.
Put some music on-Maroon 5, The Killers, Coldplay… whatever strikes your fancy.
Close your eyes.
On second thought, don't. You'll need them to read what's coming.
Picture the scene.
Ryan is now twenty-nine years old. He's a successful architect in Berkeley, as we all knew he would be. He's married to Taylor. He's happy. He deserves it.
The Cohens are still happily married. Sophie is bright and funny and she enjoys driving her two older brothers insane. Ryan taught her how to play soccer and how to defend herself from unsuitable suitors-a girl has got to learn early in life, in this batshit crazy world. Seth taught her everything he knew about music, comics and books. She's the coolest girl in school.
Ryan and Taylor come over at the Cohens for dinner at least once a week… because the Cohens are family and they're not afraid to show it.
Seems like all is well, and indeed, it is. Until… but we're getting ahead of ourselves.
Seth is living in L.A. He married Summer, as we all knew he would.
Unfortunately, he learned about two weeks ago that she was filing for divorce (which you may or may not have seen coming).
Needless to say, he's upset.
To make matters worse (for this is a fanfic and things have to get worse before they get better), Seth now feels like he and Ryan are drifting apart; as it happens in most families, work and their respective duties mean they don't spend as much time together as they once did. (If anyone had ever told Seth that he would miss the time when he was sixteen, he wouldn't have believed it, and would probably have called that person a lot of derogatory things. Yet, here it is, missing those times, which I think we can all agree is unacceptable).
But what will it take to bring back those happier times-and Team Seth/Ryan?
Why, a Grand Gesture, of course.
Scared yet?
You should be.
This, ladies and gentlemen, dear readers, is how our story begins (and if by the end of it, you don't want to give Ryan a hug, then you truly are heartless. Bitch.)
*
The Fic
Two hours into his day, Ryan snapped.
He had been followed by barely concealed snickers and amused glances since he had set foot in the building, and enough was enough.
"What the hell is happening?" he asked his assistant as he passed her desk in the bullpen. He had the sick feeling he shouldn't ask, wouldn't like the answer, but the devil you know and all that…
Nadia was obviously trying to stifle a laugh herself-and unfortunately, his glare had never had much of an effect on her. She wordlessly handed him a… He frowned at the offending object. A comic? What was Nadia doing reading a comic? She hated comics. She hated reading anything that wasn't at least six hundred pages long.
She was staring down at her desk, studiously avoiding his eyes. He could still see her smirk, could see how flushed her cheeks were getting from holding back the laughter.
With a sinking feeling, he studied the cover.
The Amazing Adventures of the Berkeley Avenger, by Seth Cohen.
Fuck.
Well, that was one sure way to make his bad day even worse.
It had been a while since Seth had used anyone from his family or his close friends as comic material, but obviously, times were changing-or, rather, going back to what they once were.
"I'll be in my office," he said. As if Nadia didn't know that already.
As if anyone cared where he went. As soon as he left, they were just going to go back to their reading and laughing.
Once in his office, he closed the door, muffling the sound from outside, and sank in his chair.
What had Seth done this time?
*
Two and a half hours into his day, Ryan banged his head on his desk-ow!-and let it rest there.
He was going to kill Seth.
No, really, he was.
No plea, no appeal.
Quick, painless. Death.
On second thought, maybe not quick and painless.
Just death.
Possibly messy.
He was glad that his friend/brother had become a wildly successful comic graphic novel writer, really, he was. He didn't even mind that he and the Cohens sometimes ended up getting their five, or ten, or fifteen minutes in the spotlight because of it. Some journalists seemed to think that the world needed to know how Seth had become the genius he was, and so be it.
But the unfortunate consequence was that everyone knew Ryan was Seth's best friend/brother. So, when they read the adventures of a twenty-nine year old, blond architect in Berkeley, who, at night, became a superhero and fought crime with his geeky, funny, quipping sidekick, they were sure to know where the characters came from.
*
Two hours, forty minutes into his day, Ryan growled into his phone, "Okay, so, I'm a superhero with supernatural strength and a thirst for justice, and I kick ass. But was it really necessary for me to wear tights? And did you really need to make them so revealing? Honestly?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Seth replied. That must be the weakest defense his friend had ever managed-including, "But I was drunk!" when he had cheated on Summer in college.
The only reason why Ryan wasn't taking a flight to L.A. right now was that he really didn't like flying. Besides, Seth had been going through a hard time since Summer left him, and Ryan didn't want to add to the angst. Also, the comic ended on, "United, we're unstoppable; divided, people get shot," and Ryan was kind of touched that Seth still remembered that.
"Tell you what," Seth said, perhaps fearing Ryan's reaction. "Next time, no more tights, okay?"
And he hung up without leaving Ryan time to answer. "Next time?" Ryan asked the dial tone. He knew, intellectually, that comic writers tended to write them in series, but surely, Seth wasn't going to…
Or was he?
Ryan was so going to kill him.
*
“Uh…” Nadia said, biting her bottom lip, looking up at Ryan like a child who had misbehaved. “Episode Two…Edition Two…whatever those comic book people call it… well… the next installment is out.”
From behind her back she produced a centimeter thick graphic novel, of which Ryan didn’t need to ask the title.
“How bad is it this time?” Ryan asked her, cringing in anticipated shame.
Nadia turned her head away, unable to look at him. Her shoulders bounced up and down as she tried to contain her laughter. “You uh… you have a harem.”
“A harem?” Ryan repeated, careful to keep his voice flat. It wouldn't do to start talking like a prepubescent girl now. No, it wouldn't do at all.
She nodded, burst out laughing and added, “And Super Sperm.”
Ryan stared at her, snatched the novel out of her hand and stormed into his office.
“Your Super Sperm is faster than a speeding bullet, boss,” she called after him. “Way to go!”
Three hours later, and with Taylor’s blessing, he was on his way to the airport.
Seth's impending divorce be damned, it was officially time to kill his brother.
*
Seth tried to explain himself, but Ryan wasn’t listening.
And anyway, what could Seth possibly say that would excuse the involvement of… Super Sperm?
“You’re doubly virile,” Seth said, as he backed away from an irate Ryan. “How is that a bad thing? I gave you multiple women! Most people would be appreciative.”
“Most people would be kicking your ass right about now,” Ryan said, advancing on his brother.
Seth flinched, stumbled over his sofa as he tried to back up quicker. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just… I was in a creative slump… I have been ever since Summer left me and all of a sudden… it’s like the heavens opened up and a huge disco ball descended flashing the words ‘harem’ and ‘Super Sperm’ and it all made sense.”
Ryan blinked and stared at Seth for a long while. Then, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his cell.
“Okay. I’m calling Kirsten and Sandy. You’re insane.”
“No, no, no,” Seth scrambled to stop Ryan from using the phone. “Just hear me out.”
“I’ve been listening to you, Seth. For ten minutes. And you’re insane. You’ve lost it. You’ve crossed over the edge and you’re not bringing me with you.”
Seth plunked himself down on the couch and dropped his head in defeat.
“I know; I’m a mess. Summer left. She took our dog. The lava lamp.”
“Your pride.” Ryan snapped his phone shut. Seth was pitiful.
Seth nodded. Pitifully.
“I have to confess something, Ryan. The too tight tights, the harem… the Super Sperm... they were all cries for help.”
Ryan crossed the room and joined his brother on the couch. “Excuse me?”
“Yep,” Seth continued. “I created the Berkeley Avenger because I knew you’d get pissed off and come out to L.A. I thought the tights would be enough. The old Kid Chino would have never put up with it. You’ve mellowed my man.”
“You did all this to get me out here?” Ryan asked. “Why didn’t you just call me?”
Seth stood up, got a cold beer out of the fridge and threw one to Ryan.
“Because the phone’s not good enough anymore. I need Seth/Ryan time, the old school version.”
*
Interlude
Really, what could Ryan do or say to that?
Nothing, that's what.
He sat down with Seth, they had beer and they talked.
Allow us, ladies and gentlemen, dear readers, to draw a curtain on this scene. The discussion they had was full of manly heart-to-hearts and reassurances, full of brotherly love, and these guys deserve their privacy. We're not nosy.
No, we're not.
Let us allow them to have this moment, and fast forward to…
*
Three weeks later
Taylor and Kirsten had gone shopping, so Ryan had the house all to himself. With a sigh and a heavy heart, he sank down on the couch, the latest issue of Seth's comic clutched in his hands.
He didn't want to open it, scared of what he was going to find-were his farts going to be missiles, this time around? Was his sweat going to melt the bad guys, thus proving to be a powerful weapon?
With Seth, anything was possible. Ryan had tried to put the fear of the Atwood revenge in him, but who knew whether that had worked?
Ryan took a swig of his vodka. He suspected that he was going to need copious amounts of alcohol in the near future.
Then, bracing himself, he started reading.
*
Half an hour later, he was buzzed (even an Atwood got tipsy when drinking two swallows of pure vodka every time he turned a page. On second thought, scratch that. Atwood didn't get tipsy. Ever.) and reassured.
The thighs were gone.
So was the Super Sperm.
No bodily function had been used as a weapon. Yay him.
Oh, granted, the Avenger had spent the issue saving, in no particular order, a puppy, a kitty, a hamster, two cops, a fireman, the kid who owned the aforementioned kitty, puppy and hamster, a sea turtle (that, amazingly enough, didn't belong to the aforementioned kid) and a damsel in distress who bore a disturbing resemblance to Jesse Sathers.
And the Avenger went through that very busy day without getting hurt in any way-not even bruised or scratched, despite the fact that the kitty had been downright uncooperative. Super powers were kind of cool. Sometimes.
The debate remained open as to what the hell was wrong with Seth, but all in all, Ryan found the end result relatively satisfying.
It was cause for celebration.
He set out to finish the bottle.
*
"Atwood genes, my ass," Taylor said when she came home two hours later.
"Hey, there's a difference between a bottle of wine and a bottle of vodka," Ryan replied. "And besides, I'm still standing, aren't I?"
Granted, his indignant speech would probably have been more convincing if it had come out of his mouth not sounding like "Bfmtplks."
Then, Ryan caught his feet on, well, nothing, and face planted in the hallway to his room.
Ooops.
*
Life went on, as it usually did.
The Berkeley Avenger was a hit. Ryan refused to feel flattered-he was pissed off and embarrassed and he fully intended to continue feeling that way. Of course, Issues Numbers 4 and 5 didn't help the embarrassment part (in the former, the Avenger's enemies cast a spell on him and every woman he crossed paths with tried to jump his bones. Some of them had whips and handcuffs and Ryan spent three hours sitting in Seth's living room, listening to his friend whine about his impending divorce, thinking that really, if Seth wanted to see him that badly, he could just come to Berkeley himself. In the latter, the Avenger met an evil surfer guy who turned to stone when the sun hit him, but not before splashing the Avenger, thus making his costume very, very, very clingy).
The snickers of his co-workers still followed him around wherever he went but Ryan almost didn't blame them. He was starting to get used to that anyway.
Yes, all things considered, things weren't too bad.
And then…
Well, then, Ryan got a strange, freaky, disturbing, unwarranted phone call.
He was alone at the office, very late in the evening, when he took that call.
First, he heard heavy breathing.
Then, a distorted voice said, "I know who you are. Stop trying to stop the bad guys, or else."
"What?" Ryan said. Because, well, what?
"I'm warning you," the voice said.
And on that cryptic warning, the line went dead.
*
"Cool, you have a fan," Seth said when Ryan talked to him about the phone call.
Ryan raised his eyes to the ceiling, took a deep breath, counted to ten, and said, "I don't think that was a fan. Maybe you should stop working on-"
Seth didn't allow him to continue. "I won't give in to threats!" he exclaimed. "I won't be censured."
Ryan raised his eyes to the ceiling, took two deep breaths, counted to twenty, bit his tongue, thought about peaceful things (a beach, palm trees, blue sea) while Seth rambled on.
"Besides, you know, it's hard to say, sometimes. The things people do when they like something… You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I get in my mail."
Ryan gave up on explaining. What would have been the point?
"You're gonna love the sixth issue," Seth added.
Ryan banged his head on the desk-ow!-and, not for the first time, longed for a pack of cigarettes.
*
Issue Six was released.
Super Sperm didn't rear its ugly head.
The weird man/woman/thing (it was impossible to tell from the voice over the phone) did.
"I warned you," he/she/it said.
"But I'm not-"
"You didn't listen. You still try to bring justice to the world. We can't allow that."
"But-"
"We can't allow you to stop us."
It was like trying to talk to Seth, Ryan reflected. "Look," he tried again. "I-"
"We didn't want to have to resort to such extreme measures, but we have to-"
Ryan couldn't even intimidate the guy/gal/thing by glaring at him/her/it. Speaking of which, Seth hadn't used the Avenger's glare as a weapon yet.
He shook his head, disgusted with himself. He did not just think that.
"Seriously, I have-" Ryan tried again, before realizing he was talking to the dial tone.
Wonderful.
Now, he had a psycho after him. And one that sounded damn ominous too.
It was all Seth's fault.
Oh, Ryan was so going to kill him.
Slowly. Painfully. Seth wasn't a big fan of pain and couldn't stand slow.
Seth was so going to die.
TBC... ... ...
Authors :
helen_c &
muchtvsocfic
Rating : R
Summary : The Amazing Adventures of the Berkeley Avenger. What else?
Spoilers : Set post-season 4. Enough said.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Acknowledgment : Many thanks to
joey51 for beta'ing this!
AN. Pure, unadulterated crack.
The Amazing Adventures of the Berkeley Avenger, by Seth Cohen
helen_c &
muchtvsocfic
PART ONE
Foreword
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Dear Readers,
Kick off your shoes.
Pick a comfortable chair.
Put some music on-Maroon 5, The Killers, Coldplay… whatever strikes your fancy.
Close your eyes.
On second thought, don't. You'll need them to read what's coming.
Picture the scene.
Ryan is now twenty-nine years old. He's a successful architect in Berkeley, as we all knew he would be. He's married to Taylor. He's happy. He deserves it.
The Cohens are still happily married. Sophie is bright and funny and she enjoys driving her two older brothers insane. Ryan taught her how to play soccer and how to defend herself from unsuitable suitors-a girl has got to learn early in life, in this batshit crazy world. Seth taught her everything he knew about music, comics and books. She's the coolest girl in school.
Ryan and Taylor come over at the Cohens for dinner at least once a week… because the Cohens are family and they're not afraid to show it.
Seems like all is well, and indeed, it is. Until… but we're getting ahead of ourselves.
Seth is living in L.A. He married Summer, as we all knew he would.
Unfortunately, he learned about two weeks ago that she was filing for divorce (which you may or may not have seen coming).
Needless to say, he's upset.
To make matters worse (for this is a fanfic and things have to get worse before they get better), Seth now feels like he and Ryan are drifting apart; as it happens in most families, work and their respective duties mean they don't spend as much time together as they once did. (If anyone had ever told Seth that he would miss the time when he was sixteen, he wouldn't have believed it, and would probably have called that person a lot of derogatory things. Yet, here it is, missing those times, which I think we can all agree is unacceptable).
But what will it take to bring back those happier times-and Team Seth/Ryan?
Why, a Grand Gesture, of course.
Scared yet?
You should be.
This, ladies and gentlemen, dear readers, is how our story begins (and if by the end of it, you don't want to give Ryan a hug, then you truly are heartless. Bitch.)
*
The Fic
Two hours into his day, Ryan snapped.
He had been followed by barely concealed snickers and amused glances since he had set foot in the building, and enough was enough.
"What the hell is happening?" he asked his assistant as he passed her desk in the bullpen. He had the sick feeling he shouldn't ask, wouldn't like the answer, but the devil you know and all that…
Nadia was obviously trying to stifle a laugh herself-and unfortunately, his glare had never had much of an effect on her. She wordlessly handed him a… He frowned at the offending object. A comic? What was Nadia doing reading a comic? She hated comics. She hated reading anything that wasn't at least six hundred pages long.
She was staring down at her desk, studiously avoiding his eyes. He could still see her smirk, could see how flushed her cheeks were getting from holding back the laughter.
With a sinking feeling, he studied the cover.
The Amazing Adventures of the Berkeley Avenger, by Seth Cohen.
Fuck.
Well, that was one sure way to make his bad day even worse.
It had been a while since Seth had used anyone from his family or his close friends as comic material, but obviously, times were changing-or, rather, going back to what they once were.
"I'll be in my office," he said. As if Nadia didn't know that already.
As if anyone cared where he went. As soon as he left, they were just going to go back to their reading and laughing.
Once in his office, he closed the door, muffling the sound from outside, and sank in his chair.
What had Seth done this time?
*
Two and a half hours into his day, Ryan banged his head on his desk-ow!-and let it rest there.
He was going to kill Seth.
No, really, he was.
No plea, no appeal.
Quick, painless. Death.
On second thought, maybe not quick and painless.
Just death.
Possibly messy.
He was glad that his friend/brother had become a wildly successful comic graphic novel writer, really, he was. He didn't even mind that he and the Cohens sometimes ended up getting their five, or ten, or fifteen minutes in the spotlight because of it. Some journalists seemed to think that the world needed to know how Seth had become the genius he was, and so be it.
But the unfortunate consequence was that everyone knew Ryan was Seth's best friend/brother. So, when they read the adventures of a twenty-nine year old, blond architect in Berkeley, who, at night, became a superhero and fought crime with his geeky, funny, quipping sidekick, they were sure to know where the characters came from.
*
Two hours, forty minutes into his day, Ryan growled into his phone, "Okay, so, I'm a superhero with supernatural strength and a thirst for justice, and I kick ass. But was it really necessary for me to wear tights? And did you really need to make them so revealing? Honestly?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Seth replied. That must be the weakest defense his friend had ever managed-including, "But I was drunk!" when he had cheated on Summer in college.
The only reason why Ryan wasn't taking a flight to L.A. right now was that he really didn't like flying. Besides, Seth had been going through a hard time since Summer left him, and Ryan didn't want to add to the angst. Also, the comic ended on, "United, we're unstoppable; divided, people get shot," and Ryan was kind of touched that Seth still remembered that.
"Tell you what," Seth said, perhaps fearing Ryan's reaction. "Next time, no more tights, okay?"
And he hung up without leaving Ryan time to answer. "Next time?" Ryan asked the dial tone. He knew, intellectually, that comic writers tended to write them in series, but surely, Seth wasn't going to…
Or was he?
Ryan was so going to kill him.
*
“Uh…” Nadia said, biting her bottom lip, looking up at Ryan like a child who had misbehaved. “Episode Two…Edition Two…whatever those comic book people call it… well… the next installment is out.”
From behind her back she produced a centimeter thick graphic novel, of which Ryan didn’t need to ask the title.
“How bad is it this time?” Ryan asked her, cringing in anticipated shame.
Nadia turned her head away, unable to look at him. Her shoulders bounced up and down as she tried to contain her laughter. “You uh… you have a harem.”
“A harem?” Ryan repeated, careful to keep his voice flat. It wouldn't do to start talking like a prepubescent girl now. No, it wouldn't do at all.
She nodded, burst out laughing and added, “And Super Sperm.”
Ryan stared at her, snatched the novel out of her hand and stormed into his office.
“Your Super Sperm is faster than a speeding bullet, boss,” she called after him. “Way to go!”
Three hours later, and with Taylor’s blessing, he was on his way to the airport.
Seth's impending divorce be damned, it was officially time to kill his brother.
*
Seth tried to explain himself, but Ryan wasn’t listening.
And anyway, what could Seth possibly say that would excuse the involvement of… Super Sperm?
“You’re doubly virile,” Seth said, as he backed away from an irate Ryan. “How is that a bad thing? I gave you multiple women! Most people would be appreciative.”
“Most people would be kicking your ass right about now,” Ryan said, advancing on his brother.
Seth flinched, stumbled over his sofa as he tried to back up quicker. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just… I was in a creative slump… I have been ever since Summer left me and all of a sudden… it’s like the heavens opened up and a huge disco ball descended flashing the words ‘harem’ and ‘Super Sperm’ and it all made sense.”
Ryan blinked and stared at Seth for a long while. Then, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his cell.
“Okay. I’m calling Kirsten and Sandy. You’re insane.”
“No, no, no,” Seth scrambled to stop Ryan from using the phone. “Just hear me out.”
“I’ve been listening to you, Seth. For ten minutes. And you’re insane. You’ve lost it. You’ve crossed over the edge and you’re not bringing me with you.”
Seth plunked himself down on the couch and dropped his head in defeat.
“I know; I’m a mess. Summer left. She took our dog. The lava lamp.”
“Your pride.” Ryan snapped his phone shut. Seth was pitiful.
Seth nodded. Pitifully.
“I have to confess something, Ryan. The too tight tights, the harem… the Super Sperm... they were all cries for help.”
Ryan crossed the room and joined his brother on the couch. “Excuse me?”
“Yep,” Seth continued. “I created the Berkeley Avenger because I knew you’d get pissed off and come out to L.A. I thought the tights would be enough. The old Kid Chino would have never put up with it. You’ve mellowed my man.”
“You did all this to get me out here?” Ryan asked. “Why didn’t you just call me?”
Seth stood up, got a cold beer out of the fridge and threw one to Ryan.
“Because the phone’s not good enough anymore. I need Seth/Ryan time, the old school version.”
*
Interlude
Really, what could Ryan do or say to that?
Nothing, that's what.
He sat down with Seth, they had beer and they talked.
Allow us, ladies and gentlemen, dear readers, to draw a curtain on this scene. The discussion they had was full of manly heart-to-hearts and reassurances, full of brotherly love, and these guys deserve their privacy. We're not nosy.
No, we're not.
Let us allow them to have this moment, and fast forward to…
*
Three weeks later
Taylor and Kirsten had gone shopping, so Ryan had the house all to himself. With a sigh and a heavy heart, he sank down on the couch, the latest issue of Seth's comic clutched in his hands.
He didn't want to open it, scared of what he was going to find-were his farts going to be missiles, this time around? Was his sweat going to melt the bad guys, thus proving to be a powerful weapon?
With Seth, anything was possible. Ryan had tried to put the fear of the Atwood revenge in him, but who knew whether that had worked?
Ryan took a swig of his vodka. He suspected that he was going to need copious amounts of alcohol in the near future.
Then, bracing himself, he started reading.
*
Half an hour later, he was buzzed (even an Atwood got tipsy when drinking two swallows of pure vodka every time he turned a page. On second thought, scratch that. Atwood didn't get tipsy. Ever.) and reassured.
The thighs were gone.
So was the Super Sperm.
No bodily function had been used as a weapon. Yay him.
Oh, granted, the Avenger had spent the issue saving, in no particular order, a puppy, a kitty, a hamster, two cops, a fireman, the kid who owned the aforementioned kitty, puppy and hamster, a sea turtle (that, amazingly enough, didn't belong to the aforementioned kid) and a damsel in distress who bore a disturbing resemblance to Jesse Sathers.
And the Avenger went through that very busy day without getting hurt in any way-not even bruised or scratched, despite the fact that the kitty had been downright uncooperative. Super powers were kind of cool. Sometimes.
The debate remained open as to what the hell was wrong with Seth, but all in all, Ryan found the end result relatively satisfying.
It was cause for celebration.
He set out to finish the bottle.
*
"Atwood genes, my ass," Taylor said when she came home two hours later.
"Hey, there's a difference between a bottle of wine and a bottle of vodka," Ryan replied. "And besides, I'm still standing, aren't I?"
Granted, his indignant speech would probably have been more convincing if it had come out of his mouth not sounding like "Bfmtplks."
Then, Ryan caught his feet on, well, nothing, and face planted in the hallway to his room.
Ooops.
*
Life went on, as it usually did.
The Berkeley Avenger was a hit. Ryan refused to feel flattered-he was pissed off and embarrassed and he fully intended to continue feeling that way. Of course, Issues Numbers 4 and 5 didn't help the embarrassment part (in the former, the Avenger's enemies cast a spell on him and every woman he crossed paths with tried to jump his bones. Some of them had whips and handcuffs and Ryan spent three hours sitting in Seth's living room, listening to his friend whine about his impending divorce, thinking that really, if Seth wanted to see him that badly, he could just come to Berkeley himself. In the latter, the Avenger met an evil surfer guy who turned to stone when the sun hit him, but not before splashing the Avenger, thus making his costume very, very, very clingy).
The snickers of his co-workers still followed him around wherever he went but Ryan almost didn't blame them. He was starting to get used to that anyway.
Yes, all things considered, things weren't too bad.
And then…
Well, then, Ryan got a strange, freaky, disturbing, unwarranted phone call.
He was alone at the office, very late in the evening, when he took that call.
First, he heard heavy breathing.
Then, a distorted voice said, "I know who you are. Stop trying to stop the bad guys, or else."
"What?" Ryan said. Because, well, what?
"I'm warning you," the voice said.
And on that cryptic warning, the line went dead.
*
"Cool, you have a fan," Seth said when Ryan talked to him about the phone call.
Ryan raised his eyes to the ceiling, took a deep breath, counted to ten, and said, "I don't think that was a fan. Maybe you should stop working on-"
Seth didn't allow him to continue. "I won't give in to threats!" he exclaimed. "I won't be censured."
Ryan raised his eyes to the ceiling, took two deep breaths, counted to twenty, bit his tongue, thought about peaceful things (a beach, palm trees, blue sea) while Seth rambled on.
"Besides, you know, it's hard to say, sometimes. The things people do when they like something… You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I get in my mail."
Ryan gave up on explaining. What would have been the point?
"You're gonna love the sixth issue," Seth added.
Ryan banged his head on the desk-ow!-and, not for the first time, longed for a pack of cigarettes.
*
Issue Six was released.
Super Sperm didn't rear its ugly head.
The weird man/woman/thing (it was impossible to tell from the voice over the phone) did.
"I warned you," he/she/it said.
"But I'm not-"
"You didn't listen. You still try to bring justice to the world. We can't allow that."
"But-"
"We can't allow you to stop us."
It was like trying to talk to Seth, Ryan reflected. "Look," he tried again. "I-"
"We didn't want to have to resort to such extreme measures, but we have to-"
Ryan couldn't even intimidate the guy/gal/thing by glaring at him/her/it. Speaking of which, Seth hadn't used the Avenger's glare as a weapon yet.
He shook his head, disgusted with himself. He did not just think that.
"Seriously, I have-" Ryan tried again, before realizing he was talking to the dial tone.
Wonderful.
Now, he had a psycho after him. And one that sounded damn ominous too.
It was all Seth's fault.
Oh, Ryan was so going to kill him.
Slowly. Painfully. Seth wasn't a big fan of pain and couldn't stand slow.
Seth was so going to die.
TBC... ... ...