Hey, this is my first F4 story. Enjoy!

Chapter One - Late Again

At exactly 12:00 am, I added the last letters to my report and saved it on my laptop.

12:02, it was e-mailed.

12:05, it was pulled off the printer, stapled, and shoved into my shoulder bag, along with my computer, for tomorrow. Preparing the day before was a habit I picked up from my mother in elementary school that stuck, but whereas she was just forgetful, I had the tendency to stay up until two or three in the morning then sleep in, causing myself to rush about before leaving the house.

I stood and headed to the door to go out once again, but conquered my urge and returned to the couch. I had already been out earlier that night, and had returned with only a single glass of vodka on the rocks in my system, not my usual intake late on a Wednesday night. Although my outing was brief, I found I already had my fill of social interactions for the day.

Not bothering to change out of the outfit of the night, I wrapped a blanket around myself like a cocoon and pulled out a deck of cards. I had four cards left in my game of solitaire when I gave into exhaustion and fell asleep.

I awoke on the floor, a queen of diamonds pressed to my cheek. Untangling myself from the mess of cushions, cards, and clothing, I stood and glanced at the clock.

8:37.

I was running late once again. I shuffled into the bedroom and changed into more business-appropriate attire: black pants and a ruffled blouse. I brushed my teeth quickly, pulled on a pair of black sneakers I hoped my boss wouldn't notice, grabbed my bag, locked the door to my apartment, and walked out into the already bustling streets. I hailed a cab without any more trouble than a few shoulder bumps with passersby, and slid into the back seat.

"Von Doom Industries," I said to the driver, a burly blond whose name – Sean Anderson – was stated boldly on his taxi license. Without a word, he pulled out into New York traffic and began weaving his way to my work.

I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. Three from Tessa, one from a company trying to sell me insurance, and one from Leonard. Leonard was the personal assistant of Victor Von Doom and who Tessa called my "sensei in the art of Von Dooming." I sighed and called him back.

"Thank God you called! Victor wants you here immediately – he has 23 people for you to check out and is trying to find out why Reed Richards is... oh, never mind! Just get over here quickly, before we're both fired." He hung up before I could get a single word in. So friendly.

I knew these threats were bluffs – if Victor was required to choose his favorite employees, Leonard and I would be at the top of the list, along with his Director of Genetic Research and reluctant girlfriend, Susan Storm, and possibly Jessica Lowell, the front lobby secretary who is known to be any guy's second choice. Leonard he liked because he was his assistant, which translates into "well-paid slave." I, on the other hand, was his personal source of information. Having the ability to access nearly every mainframe on the earth had come in handy during the job application.

Sean Anderson pulled the taxi up to the curb and turned around in his seat to face me. "We're here," he said with a smile, but was greeted with cash in his face as I jumped out of the cab. I closed the door and jogged right past the giant statue of my boss that was receiving the finishing touches and into the giant building.

I passed Jessica, who winked at me and nodded toward a bunch of fresh-out-of-collage jocks looking for a high-paying job in the wrong place. I knew she wanted me to freak them out, but I also knew security would highly enjoy shocking me with their TASERs. So I just shook my head and headed for the elevator. As the doors chimed open, I could hear Jessica winning over the guys with her charm.

On the third floor, a new intern I hadn't seen before and Lily O'Dowen, one of Victor's mousy scientists joined me in the elevator. The intern was listening to his iPod very loudly, and Lily kept glancing over at him nervously, as if his choice of music would get her fired. When we reached the floor that housed Victor's office, I stepped off the elevator and glanced at the intern's ID badge.

Micheal Harley would receive a nasty shock when he got to his workplace later that day.

That was my job. Digging up dirt about Victor's enemies, employees, and even friends. I knew everyone who worked in the building for more than three months. The more I learned about people, the more Victor forgave my shortcomings – like the fact that I was late nearly every day. Or the fact that I was naturally unsociable.

I walked briskly down the hall and into the office. Victor was there, standing by the giant window overlooking the statue and the entrance to the building, with Leonard standing behind him with his phone in one hand and PDA in the other.

"-we can schedule the Time magazine photo shoot for Sunday and push back your conference with – Miss Reyes! There you are!"

"Hi," I said, once again overwhelmed by the assistant's overbearing height. I was short, only two inches over five feet, and he was taller than Victor, who stands at 6'2''.

"Leonard, please leave Evonna and I alone for a minute."

"I will be right outside if you need me."

Once the door closed, I exhaled slightly. Leonard always seemed jumpy to me. I set my bag on the desk and pulled out my laptop. "What do you want?" I asked.

"Always so blunt," said Victor, turning to face me. Some women might have found his chiseled face, perfect black hair, and green eyes attractive, but I knew underneath it all was only pure narcissism and ambition. He moved to sit behind his desk and leaned forward, his chin in his hand. "Reed Richards is at NASA. I want to know why.

"He always has the most profitable ideas, and would earn more money than me if he could ever grow a spine. He probably needs funding for some grand project, and NASA might just give it to him." He sighed, then looked at me. "Find out what he is doing there."

I rolled my eyes, opened up my e-mail, and wrote one to a guy at NASA I had befriended over virus-removal tactics in collage. Too easy. Within three minutes, I had a reply. "That was easier than you made it sound. He's there to get funding to go to their space station and study some cosmic cloud or other. He's put together a convincing case, apparently. Holographs and everything."

Victor's eyes lit up like a kid at a candy store.

He picked up the phone and pressed a button. "Leonard, call the NASA director and put him on the line. He owes me a favor," he said, winking at me.