Battery Park
The Southern tip of Manhattan

He rose from the waves, disgusted as always when he visited the largest city on the surface of the Earth. The tiny wings at his ankles churned wildly, his thick skin slimy and dripping with the waste and refuse of humanity that sat like scum on the surface of New York Harbor as he flew up and over the thin metal rail that lined the edge of the island here. He glanced down at the sickly green foam as the waves crashed into the broken stone that lined much of the lower end of Manhattan Island, sneering in disgust.

He remembered a time decades before when the water had been fairly clean, when the humans actually swam in the rivers that encircled their home. He wished they would still do so. Maybe that would spark them into cleaning the waters once and for all instead of using them for their toilet.

It was a never-ending battle it seemed at times, but one that he was working on, methodically to be sure. Slow and steady- Hawkeye had told him that once. Slow and steady wins the race. He had not understood then, but he had grown since in so many ways. A pity mankind had not as well.

“I know you!”

Namor the First, Prince of Atlantis and the Avenging Son turned at the cracked and ragged voice. The park area was full of people, tourists he assumed. All were staring at him save one, and that one was approaching with wonder in his eyes. Respect…

“I saw you fight the Human Torch,” the old man said. “Years ago. You flooded the city.”

Namor had chosen the time of day purposely, early morning, hoping to avoid confrontation. Apparently he had miscalculated again. He would never understand his Human cousins it seemed. They were gathering, pointing, taking photographs.

“You saved us,” the old man continued, walking right up to the presence, extending his hand, grinning a toothless smile. Namor took the hand and shook vigorously with the man- a veteran apparently. “Won the war; you an’ Cap an’ the rest. God love ya!”

The old man grinned and Namor just had to smile. There were so few now that remembered. Namor had been a hero once upon a time- twice actually. Before long they would all be dead, dead and gone. He reached into the pouch at his belt, adjusting the sharkskin bag slung over his shoulder, withdrawing a handful of plundered gold gathered from shipwrecks in the ocean’s depths. He slid the doubloons into the old man’s hands-

“Thank you,” he said, smiling. “I-”

“Police! Freeze!”

Namor sagged, sighing as he turned. He had so hoped to avoid a confrontation this time, but he saw the police officer, a young man dressed in dark blue with his gun pointed at him. A woman similarly dressed was speaking into her radio, her own gun pointed in his general direction.

“No sudden moves, Mutie! Jus’ hold still…”

“At ease, lackey,” Namor said with a booming voice, pushing the old soldier gently back and away. “I am not here to fight-“

“I said freeze, freak! On the ground, now!”

Namor sighed, glancing at the city. He should have just flown straight to the Baxter Building, but some sense of nostalgia had commanded him to arrive at the park, get his barings. He looked at the empty space in the skyline, remembering when last he was on a similar mission. The Twin Towers of the World Trade Center had been under construction then, skeletal frames of the glory that they would become. Now they were gone, victims of Man’s inhumanity to man, fallen monuments to greed and prejudice, politics. Namor turned to the city guard.

“I have business with the Fantastic Four,” he said, producing a small card from his belt pouch. “I will conduct my business and leave unmolested, or does my status as an Avenger mean nothing to you — or my Diplomatic Immunity as a representative of fabled Atlantis?”

He held out the card for the officer, but saw the man wavering. A sudden move and he would fire. Luckily his partner was more level headed. She took the card and looked at it, nodding-

“I’m sorry,” she said, handing Namor back his card with a nod and a frown. She placed her hand on the man’s gun, pointing it down. “It’s just… we’re not…” she did not know quite what to say, so Namor nodded, placing his card back in his pouch. Odds were he would need it again.

“I understand. Be at ease. I am not here to fight.” The woman seemed to relax at that, though the man still looked skeptical. “I will do my business and leave. You have the word of the Avenging Son-“

“Sub-Mareener!” the man said and Namor grimaced at the bastardization of the name that Betty Dean had given him years before. He hated her for that.

“You do the right thing or I’m on you like a fly on shit.’

Namor stared at the police officer, unbelieving. Had he sunk so low that a boy a quarter of his age would have so little respect? He contemplated snapping the guard in half, but decided against it. He was not here to fight. He was here to deliver a gift to a woman he had loved, once, still…

“Stand down, boy,” Namor commanded, willing the wings at his ankles to raise him up once more and take him away from this madness. The sooner he fulfilled his mission, the better. “And stand back. I have wasted enough time with you. Namor the first has better things to occupy his time.”

With that the Savage Sub-Mariner rose into the sky, the crowd and police watching him in his wake. He heard a collective moan of awe as he turned, angling his flight uptown. Best to get this over with quickly, return to the depths and forget the madness.

One day things would be different, but not today…

Today madness reigned!

ANOTHER GIFT

By Curtis Fernlund

The Baxter Building
Madison Avenue at 42nd Street
Manhattan, New York

She was quite certain that the clock on the wall had stopped.

Susan Richards stared at the time piece, watching as the second hand finally moved after what seemed an eternity, yet the minute hand still sat frozen on the seven. It had been there forever. She sighed, shaking her head. It only seemed that way of course. Waiting was the hardest thing in the world when one wanted time to fly by. It never did unless you did not want it to.

She tried to not watch the clock, turning her attention elsewhere again. She stared at the Styrofoam cup on the table before her, the coffee long gone cold. There was a magazine she had tried to read earlier folded to the second page. The television set anchored temporarily on the wall blared but she could not seem to focus on the story CNN was running- again. A fire somewhere uptown.

Susan leaned back, forcing her eyelids tightly shut as she rubbed at her temples, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were aching and she wondered, not for the first time, if she needed glasses. With a sigh she leaned forward again and returned her attention to the seemingly overwhelming task at hand.

She had made a rather decent sized dent in the folders in front of her, though the discarded stack on the floor by her feet was still significantly shorter than the one dominating her desk. Most were about the same size, some thicker than others, but all containing basically the same type of information; personal profiles, references, photographs and the like. “Nannies…”

Susan Richards grumbled as she opened the next file, sliding it from the top of the stack and peering at it closely. The photo of another elderly woman looked back at her with a pleasant enough smile on her lips. Her references were impeccable and long, at least at a glance, but Susan wondered again if the woman was up to the task of being a Nanny in the employ of the Fantastic Four. How would she handle the odd situation, say if Doctor Doom should attack, or if the Mole Man tunneled up through the foundation one day? What would Betsy Simpson do if Galactus landed on the roof?

Susan sighed and closed the folder, dropping it atop the stack on the floor as she pulled the next in front of her. It was discrimination of a sort she supposed, but with the life that the FF led it was just impossible to assume that a woman in her sixties would be up to the task. Poor Betsy might be a wizard with children, but she would be expected to live- or at least work mostly at the Baxter Building, and she had to meet certain physical requirements as well. Like being a fireman or a police officer in New York, it was a very specialized task, one not suited for everyone. Of course there was always the Agatha Harkness argument, but somehow Susan suspected that Betsy Simpson was not a witch.

Susan frowned as she thought again of Franklin’s old governess. Poor Agatha had been a wonder, her age-old skill with magic a boon in protecting Franklin and even helping to suppress his latent mutant powers to a degree. It had been devastating when Agatha had committed ‘suicide’ allowing herself to be burned at the stake by her own people of New Salem. Agatha’s sacrifice had won the day, but at what cost? It had been so long since Susan had visited her friend’s grave- her memorial rather.

Susan shook her head to clear her thoughts. It was certainly not fair wishing Agatha alive for her own selfish reasons. She suspected too that Agatha was not really dead but rather ‘moved on’, something akin to Sir Alec Guinness in that movie Franklin loved so much. If that were the case of course, Agatha Harkness would return when she was prepared to do so, one way or another.

Cindy Cole seemed a bit closer to what they were looking for in terms of a nanny. She was a good looking girl in her early twenties and had some experience as an Au Pair out on Long Island for the last few years. Young and healthy, and Johnny would definitely like her for her obvious endowments. However…

Susan read the attached memo high-lighted by the secretary SHIELD had loaned her for the hiring task. Why SHIELD felt the need to become involved with every aspect of their lives- even to this, which should be Reed and Sue’s decision, was beyond her. Granted, the new FF needed SHIELD’s backing and funding if they were to get off the ground again and back into the public’s good graces. Still, it seemed to Susan that there were some things that they should leave alone. Case in point, who cared if Cindy Cole was the third cousin of Gary Buser’s sister-in-law for God’s sake? How long had Shell Shock been dead anyway? Odds were that Cindy had never even met the man. She sighed though, again, and closed the folder.

Best not to make waves with SHIELD, at least not at the moment. There would be a reckoning one-day, but not yet. Not for awhile.

“Sorry, Cindy,” Susan said as she dropped the file to the floor, reaching for another.

It would have been nice if things just worked out as they used to, back when life was simpler- relatively speaking anyway. After Franklin had been born, Crystal of the Inhumans had joined the Fantastic Four, taking Sue’s place on the team so that she could spend the needed time with their new son. Crystal had been a huge help, both on the team and with Franklin. And of course Alicia Masters had been around back then to help out as well, a godsend in herself. And Agatha Harkness…

Recently, with Valeria Susan had thought that she had found another godsend in Caledonia. Valeria had been a teenager then, but still the Otherworld warrior had been invaluable acting both as bodyguard and nanny to Franklin as well as the teen version of Val. She had been smart and savvy, and her skill with a sword nothing short of remarkable. When she had taken the children to Haven — the school for gifted youngsters at ‘the other end of the universe’ Susan thought that she was dedicated to the Richard’s protégé’s education and well being. They all had. When Val and Franklin had returned without Caledonia or ‘Puppy’, the miniature version of Lockjaw that had transported them all to Haven they had not thought twice however. Granted, they were all rather busy with Abraxas at the time, and it was through Franklin and teen Val’s sacrifice that the universe was righted, restoring both Galactus and the Silver Surfer to life and recreating Valeria as an unborn child in waiting in Susan’s womb. Things had happened so fast after that…

Susan unconsciously rubbed at her flat stomach remembering her strange pregnancy and the complications that had occurred, the problems with Doom and Val that followed her rebirth. She wondered what had happened to Caledonia throughout all of that. She had wondered before, and Reed had vowed to find their friend but it seemed something always popped up to distract them. It was in fact only recently that life had slowed, just a little bit, but even so they were so involved with the rebuilding of FF Inc, and Ben and Johnny were trying to get on with their lives as well. Susan made a mental note to look into Caledonia’s whereabouts as soon as they could, priority number one after the relaunch of the FF, just as soon as they were back on their feet-

“Mrs. Richards?”

Susan jumped, her pulse racing to hear the staticky voice scratch over the intercom. Breaking her reveries, Sue settled back and licked her lips, reaching for the com button.

“Yes?”

“Are you ready for the next applicant? It’s been awhile.”

“Yes, Debbie,” Susan said, opening the new file before her, hoping for the best. The SHIELD secretary was efficient; she would give her that. Fury did have a good eye for talent. Debbie was cool and calm and had showed little emotion at all when meeting either Reed or Sue for the first time. Even better she seemed less than impressed with her first contact with Johnny, despite his obvious attempts to hit on the poor girl. Luckily her brother was no stranger to rejection.

“Send in…” Susan scanned the name on the file, “Mrs. Lord please.”

Susan frowned as she scanned the file, shaking her head. Plenty of experience, and references, but the woman had to be three hundred pounds and pushing fifty. Not a prime choice for a firefight-

The door opened and Susan stood, putting on her best smile.

“Mrs. Lord,” she said, extending her hand congenially. “Please, take a seat.”

Susan glanced at the wall clock again and saw that another minute or two had finally clicked by. Ten-forty in the morning and she had hours to go yet, dozens of applicants still to see. It was going to be a long day…

Sunshine City, Florida

Ben Grimm grunted with the effort as he heaved on another Cyprus, dragging the tree roots and all from the muddy bog. Even for him it was hard work, the trees being old and well rooted in the smelly swamp, but it was good and honest work and he could not be happier doing it.

He was sweating as he dragged the tree away, heaving it up and out to slam with a crash onto the slowly growing pile of dead trees that he was creating. He wiped the sweat from his craggy brow, ignoring the grinding noise he created as rock grated on rock, sighing as he scanned the acres yet to be cleared. It would take some time, a few days at least, but he had nothing but time. He was more than happy to do the job for the town council; they had been so good to him, welcoming him to their little community with wide smiles and open arms.

Too it helped that they had offered Alicia and Uncle Phil a tax break for his work on next year’s assessment. Once construction started on the new high school stadium in a few weeks it would all be worth it. It was all for the kids, after all.

Grimm just had to smile. He had never been happier, never once suspecting that the simple life could be so good. He had always wanted this, deep down, a place for him and Alicia would be accepted as Mister and Missus Ben Grimm rather than as the Thing and the blind sculptress. He knew what the people always thought, that since she was blind, that was why she ‘loved’ him, that their two handicaps balanced each other. Here in Sunshine City however, that was not the case.

The people accepted him- and her- without reservation. It was like they were simple, normal folk in a small American town just trying to get by like everyone else. It was great! Better than his wild youth growing up on Yancy Street. Better than being a pilot, and even better than the best of times with the other half of his ‘family’.

He missed Sue and Johnny of course, and his best friend Reed Richards at times, but he was with Alicia now, and she made him feel better than he ever had in his life. It was almost too good to be true. He could not believe that he could be so happy. He hoped it would last forever…

“Ben?”

Ben Grimm, the Thing turned to the sound of Alicia’s voice. He saw the woman he loved- had loved for so long approaching the edge of the swamp stepping deftly about the pumps and machinery that were draining the bog of stagnant water. She moved with a calm, fluid grace, better than most of the sighted women that Ben knew. Too, she looked beautiful dressed in an over-all jumper and work boots, her long reddish gold hair drawn back into a ponytail. She smiled at him, somehow sensing that he was looking at her, but oddly it looked strained, a little forced.

Walking beside her though not quite as gracefully was her stepfather, ‘Uncle Phil’, Philip Masters formerly the Puppet Master. He had been one of the Fantastic Four’s greatest villains for a time with his ability to control minds through the puppets he sculpted out of his queer radioactive clay. Oddly he was almost as good as Alicia at his sculpting when he set his mind to it, but in the early years his agenda had been to manipulate the FF — all for Alicia’s benefit, or so he had claimed over and over again. He was wearing a pair of rubber hip boots, his feet sinking into the damp tilled soil as he staggered forward. Oddly, his wide toothy grin never faltered.

“’Licia,” Grimm said stomping through the muck towards his visitors. “Phil. What’s up?” He thought about kissing his love on the cheek, shaking Phil’s hand but knew that he had to stink, and his huge orange mitts were caked with mud. Later for that. “Quittin’ time already?”

“Something like that,” Masters giggled, almost sliding into the bog as he staggered too close. Alicia reached out and steadied the man, grabbing his arm easily despite her blindness.

“I’m… Ben… I-I’m sorry…”

Grimm felt his stomach lurch as the love of his life frowned, licking her lips and hanging her head. He glanced at Phil, but he was still grinning madly.

“Time to go, Grimm,” Masters said, his hands sliding into deep, bulky pockets.

“Whaddaya mean, Phil?” Ben asked as he stepped from the bog. The day was barely started, and he still had a lot of land to clear. “Where we going?”

“Not we, Grimm,” Masters said with a smirk. “Just you. Time to go home.”

“I am home, Phil,” Grimm said as he stepped out of the bog and willed the change. Even after so long it was still strange and a bit stressful. He felt just a bit dizzy as his body shunted its mass, his epidermis fading away, receding from rock to flesh. It was faster and easier every time, but it still left him shaken.

“You need to go back, Ben,” Alicia said, and he could hear the sadness in her quavering voice. She was staring at the ground as though embarrassed, and he could not understand why. “Back to Manhattan, and the Richards. They’ll need you soon.”

“But-But I don’t wanna go,” Ben said, stepping forward and putting his arms about Alicia’s waist, drawing her close. He tried to kiss her after all, but she turned her head. “’Licia?”

“You have to go, Ben,” Alicia said looking up at him. She was crying. “I’m sorry, but-“

“Hey,” he said, wiping his thumb beneath her eye, wiping at her tears. “None a’ that now. You want me ta go, I’ll go. Anything for you, Babe.” That just seemed to make her cry all the harder.

“I’m glad to hear that, Grimm,” Masters said, his hands rummaging in his pockets with a bit of fervor, almost as though he were playing ‘pocket pool’. “We’ll miss you of course, but your friends need you. You WILL go back…”

“Sure, Phil.” Ben Grimm smiled, nodding. “I’ll go, no hassle. I was plannin’ a trip anyway. Still some things I need ta pick up before I settle in here. Probably best I tell Reed, Sue an’ Johnny in person anyway. Give me a chance ta say goodbye ta Franky an’ Val too.”

“Yes, yes! That’s the spirit.”

Ben smiled, as Philip Masters seemed to jump with glee. Looking to Alicia he saw her force a smile as well, though her eyes were still damp and glassy.

“I love you, Ben,” she said, finally leaning in to kiss him. It was wonderful, bliss.

“I love you too, Babe,” Grimm said holding her to arm’s length, taking a long look at the woman that was his wife. “Always have…

“Always will.”

The Baxter Building
Madison Avenue at 42nd Street
Manhattan, New York

Reed Richards blinked to hear the alarm.

He wondered just how long it had been buzzing. He had been so involved in his experiments that he had not noticed the harsh trill, had not seen the small light flashing on his monitor board across the room. He turned back to the chemical filtering apparatus, checking the drip of mutated enzymes a final time before he casually stretched his arm across the vast lab to signal that he had received the message. What was happening he had not a clue…

Reed Richards stretched his eyeball far across the room to examine the monitors displaying the outer perimeter. His closer eye scanned the consoles at hand, his swift mind collating the data even as he viewed what was happening outside. The Transmuter batteries were still charging steadily. The locking mechanisms of the recently installed safeguards shielding the negative Zone were still firm and in place. He could not imagine what might have happened had he not secured the Zone Portal. What if some misguided malcontent had entered the Zone for his own purposes, or worse, what if something had gotten out? It staggered the imagination.

Richards adjusted the controls on the cryogenic bath and redialed the magnesium oscillator to an acceptable level before turning his attention fully to the outer monitors. He blinked as he focused, his head and upper torso stretching the distance to reconnect with his diverted eye, the better to concentrate. He could not believe the images he was viewing…

It was Namor, the Sub Mariner attacking the building — apparently — with the full compliment of SHIELD agents defending the unfinished headquarters from the Atlantean’s assault. It defied logic. Why would Namor be attacking? The last Reed Richards had heard, Namor was still a member in good standing with the Avengers. They had been teammates for a short time. Namor had spent some time with his own company, Oracle, but that was now in the hands of Jim Hammond — the original Human Torch as far as Reed could recall. What was going on?

Reed Richards cursed, wishing he had taken the time to hook up the audio to the perimeter monitors. He could see Namor spouting, probably his usual rhetoric, but what did he want here, now?

“Professor Richards?” the intercom crackled and Reed recognized the garbled voice of Agent Grant. “Professor?”

“Richards here. What’s happening?”

“It’s the Sub Mariner, sir.” The agent sounded stressed as he made his report amidst the sound of SHIELD standard blasters- that were probably only making Namor mad. “He appeared demanding entrance. We denied but he tried to push past-“

“What does he want?”

Static…

“He said something about the Invisible Woman, Professor. It was hard to sort, but I think he’s here for her somehow.”

That figured. Reed Richards scowled, remembering all the times that Namor had coveted his wife. With their very first encounter, after Johnny had helped the Atlantean monarch to regain his memory he had lusted after Sue, sniffing about whenever he wanted. Reed’s frown darkened. He thought that they were past this…

“Sir, I suggest you get to safety. We will handle this as quickly as we can.”

Reed laughed. How green was Grant anyway?

“I’ll be right there.” Reed Richards shut down the intercom before the agent might protest and headed for the window. He glanced at his consoles as he passed, fingering adjustments before he stared at the thick glass recently installed.

“Open… Twelve percent.”

There was a metallic chime and a flashing of light just before a pneumatic hiss. Reed saw the glass fade away as a slight portion of the window opened at his command. Reed Richards willed his pliable body snake-thin and seeped through the opening, determination on his twisted face as he arched skyward, towards the battle.

He had no time for this…

“I’m sorry Miss Jacobson, but I just don’t think you’re quite right for the position.”

Sue Richards felt a pang of guilt and sadness when she saw the girl’s face fall in disappointment. She had been excited at the prospect of getting a job working for the FF obviously, but Susan suspected that that was the main reason she wanted the job. There had been a few like her already to pass through the screening process, fans with hero worship on their minds. A few had even asked for an autograph on dismissal.

It was a strange world indeed-

“Mrs. Richards?”

Susan looked up as Debbie rushed into the office, pushing past Patty Jacobson. The prospective nanny paused in the doorway, her eyes sparkling as she listened, hoping to glean some inside info on her heroes. Sue smiled, and with the slightest concentration projected an invisible force bubble, pushing Patty out the door and slamming it shut behind her, locking it. She looked to the SHIELD agent then and saw her fumbling with the television remote, flipping through the channels until she found the AV Access link.

“There’s no volume,” Sue said as she got up to stand beside the shorter woman, watching as she scrolled through the listing of security cameras, finally settling on the NE Corner Roof Cam.

“I know,” Debbie said, adjusting the gain, trying to eliminate the snow on screen. There were still bugs in the visuals, but as Sue turned her attention on the monitor screen she could easily see the problem. Susan Richards gasped!

“Namor…” she whispered, staring at the magnificent man with the perfect body. Dressed only in green swim trunks and a golden belt, Namor was still and always would be an imposing sight- at least in her lifetime. His muscles rippled, his tiny wings miraculously, impossibly lifting him aloft at incredible speeds. Reed had tried to explain how his flight worked once years ago, but at the time Susan had not really cared. She was flattered with the prince’s attention, smitten almost.

Almost…

“Mrs. Richards?”

Susan blinked, shaking her head. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she blushed, embarrassed. She bit her lower lip, chewing as she wished that Namor would just fly away and stop bringing old feelings to bear.

“I have to get out there.”

Susan turned, staring at the young woman before her. She was not dressed in standard SHIELD gear, rather a skirt and heels, a turtleneck sweater. Dressed as a secretary, she certainly looked the part save for the firearm strapped over her left breast in a shoulder holster and the Eagle nametag beneath that. Debra Bernard the tag read. Okay-

“Debbie, I need to get out there and help my husband. Could you-“

“Go! I’ll look after your children.” And without another word she ran from the room, turning towards the nursery where Valeria and Franklin were, surrounded by SHIELD agents probably. Susan smiled, then turned.

“Open full!” she commanded as she charged at the window. There was a shimmering effect and the glass suddenly seemed to melt away as programmed to the sound of her voice. Reed’s first true success with his new ‘Stable Molecules’.

Without hesitation Susan leaped through the opening, spinning about as she concentrated. She felt the gentle push of her powers as a sturdy, invisible platform appeared beneath her, stopping her fall and then raising her skyward towards the battle. With a simple thought she righted herself, her face grim with anger and annoyance.

She had to end this stupidity before someone got hurt.

Reed Richards let his body go slack as Namor’s fist connected with his jaw. It was a mighty blow, one that would have staggered the Thing. To Mister Fantastic’s pliant body however it was little more than a love tap. Still, the force of kinetic energy sent his head spiraling, shooting well past a hundred yards before he was able to gather his wits and negate the momentum.

He was still clutching at Namor he could tell as he reeled his neck and head back in. He had wrapped his arms and legs about the Atlantean monarch in an attempt to bind and subdue him at the outset, hoping too to simply speak to him and get him to back down. That had not worked as Reed immediately noted that the Sub Mariner was caught in the grips of a battle lust. The SHIELD agents firing their stunners at him (uselessly) had enraged him beyond the effects of swaying speech. Namor would not be content or calm until he had let the adrenaline burn and the anger wane. Not that Richards minded.

Reed Richards was tired of this arrogant mutant coming on with his airs and trying to impress his wife. High time he was taken down a level or two. They had battled over this before of course, far too many times. Susan had always chosen him in the end, naturally, but Namor just never seemed to get the gist. Susan might find the Atlantean exciting and noble- like a knight of old- but she loved Reed Richards and always would. Reed simply had to get that point across, once and for all.

He shifted his mass, willing the pliant molecules of his body to gather in his hand. He made a fist, molding it into a brick-like shape, watching as it gained weight and density, watching too as the Sub Mariner streaked forward. He waited, judging air speed and estimating the mutant’s velocity. Finally he struck!

Reed Richard’s blow connected with amazing force, deflecting the Atlantean’s attack and actually sending him spiraling off into the sky. It was a punch that would have made Ben Grimm proud- his best Sunday, or something to that effect. Definitely ‘clobbering time’.

Not enough to take Namor out however. The Sub Mariner twisted in flight, his ankle wings slowing his momentum until he hung in mid air, gathering his wits. He was stunned, but not unconscious, once again proving that Reed Richards was not Ben Grimm. Reed stretched higher, closer as Namor thumbed the corner of his mouth, smiling.

“A worthy blow, Richards. I would not have expected it of you.”

“I’m full of surprises, Namor,” Richards said as he shifted mass again, displacing his body into a thinner, flattened sheet though holding his true image to his foe. “As you’re soon to find out if you don’t surrender.”

“Surrender? Bah!” Namor laughed, adjusting the gray shoulder bag he was carrying. That looked vaguely familiar to Reed for some odd reason, but he could not quite recall why or where he had seen it before. “I wanted no fight, Richards,” Namor continued. “Had your lackeys simply let me pass as I demanded, I would no doubt be gone by now. Be that as it may, fight I will-“

“Maybe that’s the problem, Namor. Had you asked instead of demanded-“

“The Avenging Son ask anything of surface dwellers? You surprise me Reed Richards,” Namor said as he shifted his altitude and started forward, building speed to charge. “After all these years I thought you might know me better than that. Another ‘mistake’ on my part…”

Reed Richards let his sail-like body expand even as the Sub Mariner streaked forward, screaming his battle cry-

“Imperious Rex!”

Reed let his body take the brunt of the charge, Namor’s form plowing into the stretching, pliable flesh of Mister Fantastic. Reed winced at the shock of impact, but as soon as he felt his body stretch he contracted the molecules, gathering in his limbs in a wide arc to surround the Prince of Atlantis. Richards folded in on himself, sealing his body as he stretched round and round, grappling to hold form. He could feel Namor struggling, punching, and battling to regain his freedom, but before the Atlantean realized what was happening exactly, it was far too late.

Richards compressed, drawing in his form but letting the molecules expand just enough to withstand Namor’s mighty blows. Reed felt them to be sure, but his body was perhaps the most indestructible organic substance on the planet, and Reed knew that for Sue he could survive anything. Richards squeezed, his own limbs shortening as he gathered the force about his foe, trapping him. He squeezed the air out slowly, knowing too that before long the heat and humidity would take their toll, dehydrating the mighty Sub Mariner.

Namor was a mutant, and he spent most of his life beneath the waves, but Richards had had the chance to study the Atlantean in depth years before when Doctor Doom had adjusted the man’s physiology for a time, preventing Namor from surviving on land for any significant amount of time. Reed Richards had developed a special suit for Namor then, all the while learning all that he could about a past and potential foe.

Reed Richards could feel the Sub Mariner’s struggles lessening as his oxygen depleted, his body fluids evaporating, perspiring away. He flexed, compressing his body even more until he became almost a second skin on the Atlantean. Namor struggled all the harder. There was a cracking sound, like breaking glass.

Richards gritted his teeth as Namor became frantic. He could feel the man’s struggles renew- in panic? Doubtful, Namor did not panic. More likely a last effort to gain freedom. Richards held fast-

It was not enough.

Namor was not called the Savage Sun Mariner without good reason. He was as strong as the Thing at least. Stronger in the water. He had gone toe to toe with the likes of the Incredible Hulk and had faced off singly against the Mighty Avengers. Leverage aside, Richards knew he would not hold him long, but he had hoped he could hold him long enough.

With a mighty roar, Namor burst free!

Mister Fantastic’s body went sailing in every conceivable direction, stretched and flailing to its limits until Richards regained his senses and started to draw his body back in. He stretched an arm, grabbing a nearby rooftop and directed his movement, soaring to a soft landing where he intended to gather his strength and get his bearings once again. He turned and saw Namor speeding his way.

The Atlantean had a look of sheer rage on his face; brow twisted, teeth grinding, his muscles bulging as he snarled some threat in an ancient tongue. Reed knew a bit of Atlantean, recognized the words ‘dirt-licker’ as he willed his body soft for the impact, too tired to react any other way. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth…

He heard Namor’s grunt of pain, the sound of impact as he slammed head long into… something. Reed opened his eyes-

He almost laughed to see the Sub Mariner splayed flat, pressed against the invisible wall. His face was flat and twisted, in obvious pain and surprise. He had hit hard and was suffering for it. Reed looked about, finally spying his wife seemingly standing in mid air a few yards away supported no doubt by an invisible column of force. She looked beautiful in her long skirt and heels, her blonde hair whipping about her face in the wind. He smiled, assured of victory with her at his side, but then she turned her dark glare on him and she did not look happy. Reed shuddered-

“Enough!” she said as she willed her platform to carry her closer, seemingly riding on air. Namor sputtered as the wall vanished, twirling about in mid air until his tiny ankle wings righted him and he spun to face her. He almost spoke, then glanced at Richards and smartly remained silent.

“I know you have better things to do,” she said pointing an accusing finger at Reed, then looking to Namor. “And you should. I know I do. Better things than riding roughshod over two idiots fighting over a schoolgirl crush. That is what this is about, I assume?”

“He attacked,” Reed whined, trying to defend himself, instantly regretting it.

“I-“ Namor said and Sue Richards whipped her head about to glare at the monarch again. She started tapping her foot-

“Well?”

Namor sighed, reaching into his shoulder bag. “It seems I erred again, letting my arrogance get the better of me once more. As your husband suggested, I should have simply asked.” Namor withdrew a handful of glass shards from his bag, something withered and wilting in the midst. Reed remembered the crinkling sound he had heard…

“I had heard that you had recently given birth again, Susan. As I had once before, I simply wanted to wish you and your daughter,” Namor glanced at Richards, “your entire family well. This…”

He held out the withered thing in his hand, frowning. “This was a Sparkler. It is an over-sized one-cell organism that lives in the lowest depths of the ocean, void of light. It is little more than floating skin, but it gives off a strange glow that fluctuates with emotion. Atlantean children keep them as pets. They do not seem to mind, or even know. I thought your daughter might enjoy it, but unfortunately in our overzealousness, its containment sphere shattered. It’s dead, if it was ever actually alive in a sense that we understand.”

Susan Richards stared at the dead thing in Namor’s hand, and Richards could not help but look at it as well, a brand new life form as yet cataloged. If only it had survived.

Susan sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sure it was lovely, Namor. Thank you,” she said coldly.

“Susan…”

“Thank you Namor,” she repeated, her eyes popping open and staring daggers at the man she might have loved once upon a time. “It was a lovely gesture. I’m sorry that you have to leave so soon.”

“But I don’t–“

“It has been a lovely visit, Namor. Someday, if I ever have another child, or maybe when Franklin graduates, we can get together again…”

Namor finally got the hint. He backed off, the tiny wings at his ankles beating furiously as he gave a final glance to Richards, shrugging. Almost to say he was sorry. He arched up then, starting to wave but thought better of it. He turned and was gone.

Reed Richards stretched his torso, then his neck until his head was beside his wife’s. His mind was racing. He knew he should apologize he supposed — it was the proper thing to do, even though he had done nothing wrong. He was protecting his family from a potential threat. Surely Sue would realize that. Not hold it against him…

“Susan-“

Sue Richards extended her arm, splaying her hand just before Reed’s face. He blinked, looking to her, but she did not look at him-

“Not now, Reed…”

“But Sue?” he started to protest, but she cut him off again.

“Not — now…”

Reed swallowed. He could hear the coldness in her voice. A coldness and irritation he had only heard a few times before; once when she had adopted the persona of Malice, most recently when she had chastised him over his lax handling of their current financial woes. He licked his lips and backed away…

“Sorry,” he whispered, his body compacting as he disappeared back into the Baxter Building. He knew he was in trouble.

Susan Richards just had to smirk however. If that did not get a fire started under her husband’s rather sexy butt, she had no idea what would. Things could not have worked out better if she had planned it all. And thankfully no one had gotten hurt.

She would have to apologize to Namor though, eventually. No rush though. Let him stew for a bit. It wouldn’t hurt him at all.

Best of all, she had found her nanny.

She would have to talk to Fury of course, maybe pull in some old markers. She might have to remind him of that time when she looked the other way so that he and the Contessa could try out Reed’s Gravity Chamber a few years back.

Regardless, Debbie had jumped up without a moment’s hesitation to her own safety and volunteered to guard the children in a time of potential danger. It would be next to impossible to find that trait in anyone from a resume, and it would be too late should a similar situation arise.

Yes, Debbie Bernard was the one. A SHIELD agent so her security clearance would be up to standard. She was cute and smart and knew how to handle Johnny. Plus, plus, plus…

Of course there was Franklin, but she knew how to handle him as well. She knew how to deal with all the men in her family, in her life for that matter. Reed… Ben… Johnny… Namor…

It did not matter. They were all the same.

She was Sue Richards; the not so Invisible Woman!

With just enough Malice left in her soul to still be a little dangerous…

End?

NEXT ISSUE: Another old friend drops by for a visit, but that frantic look on her face does not mean that Medusa is having a bad hair day! There’s trouble in the Great Refuge, so the Fantastic Four go to the aid of the Inhumans in force, together again! Read… “Maximum Annihilation!” Or don’t. It’s up to you. Just remember… Malice is watching…