All Heat could think about when Peter mentioned him being there without his knowledge was the face of the man he'd been designed after - smiling, or rather half smiling since he had a tendency to look displeased more often than not, from the photographs Madame had shown him. Then there was the one from the recorded program, the one that looked just like him but happier, playing on the beach with the rest of his tribe. It wasn't possible, was it, that it could be one of them? Worse, there couldn't be another, could there? He was Heat. He was the only one left with this face and he didn't like the idea of someone that looked just like him waltzing around while he was unaware of it.

"That doesn't make any sense," he repeated, but with the distracted tone of someone already thinking about the possibilities. That was something to bring up on the bulletin, perhaps. Except then he'd have to deal with whatever morons felt like responding. Who knew if he'd even get a clear answer.

He didn't realize what Peter was doing until the man was already starting to shrug off his jacket. Heat looked startled and held out a hand to stop him. "I don't need your damn coat," he grumbled, and though he tried to wave off the offer it was clear he didn't know what to think of it. The demon hated showing weakness - especially his elemental weakness. And anyway, looking at Peter sitting around without a jacket on would just make him feel cold despite the extra layer.