She hadn't meant for it to happen. SHe'd been typing up her column, just as she always did (Society Scandals by Tara Rits), when she suddenly felt very warm. Very VERY warm. And the next thing she knew, flames were bursting from her hands!

All hell had broken loose and right quick. The desk, the computer, and a goodly portion of the Daily Bugle'soffice had caught fire. Thankfully, Peter-something-or-other (the photographer) managed to douse the flames with a fire extringuisher. But, sadly, not before she, Tara Rits (nee Tansy Bupp) had been exposed as a mutant. Already, a mere five hours later, her career was over. Many of her so-called freinds (like that nice guy Jim in the Editing department) were ciculating a petition to get her fired. And that wasnt't the worst of it.

She was a 24 year old Journalism Graduate who'd been outed as a mutie. She'd lost the greatest job she cvould ever have- the job she'd dreamed about when she was a little girl growing up in a trailer park. She'd gotten to mix with the very cream of Society, to be among them as one of them. She'd had Emily Vanderwall (of the Manhatten Vanderwalls doncherknow) sucking up to her at the Winter Ball. Now Emily Pure-And-Proud Vanderwall (of the 100 human Vanderwalls) probably wouldn't cross the street to spit on her. And that wasn't the worst of it.

She was part of a despised and downtrodden minority. She was cursed with dangerous powers she couldn't control. All she had to look forward to was death threats, social ostracism, and waiting to accidentally kill someone. Ant even THAT wasn't the worst of it.

The worst of it was she was waiting for her 2:30 appointment with J. Jonah Jameson.

Tara had made up her mind. She'd resign first thing, before he even opened his mouth. She'd avoid the yelling, the cursing, the screaming, the epithets (he hated superheroes, she just KNEW he had epithets for mutants), and leave with what little dignity she had left.

The secretary nodded to Tara. "He'll see you now" she said, almost as though she was totally unaware that she was sending a young girl into the lions den.

he was sitting at his desk, glaring at her even before she was fully inside the room. She had the feeling he'd been glaring for a while, that he'd had a very bad day and was waiting for someone to vent on. The way his teeth gripped the cigar, the way his hands gripped the armrests of his chair, all of them spelled T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
"M-Mister J-j-Jameson, before you say anything, I resign. I..." she began. She had made a quick plan of what to say. Sorry for all damage, will pay back, many happy years, need tgo leave with dignity, walk out door. This was not to be.

"RESIGN?!! LIKE HELL YOU DO!!" Jameson exploded. For a man pushing sixty who smokes two to three cigars every day, the old boy certainly had lung power "How in the blazes will you work of a thirty thousand dollar debt to me then?! J Jonah Jameson is noones fool, miss Rits, and if you think you can burn down MY newspaper and skip merrily away, you're WRONG!! You will be working at this paper for a ver, VERY long time, because you're damn sure not getting any raises in the foreseeable future! Moreover, you can say goodbye to half your vacation time for the next few years, because I'm sending you to that Xavier school one week a year for training and its damn sure not coming out of the company's time!" He stopped to puff on his cigar, his eyes still filled with fire.

Tara was ready to scream at him. This wasn't the nineteenth century, she couldn't be pressganged into his lousy paper for life... then she she stopped focussing on the words he'd used and considered what he'd actually SAID. She wasn't fired. Her job was secure. She'd get help controlling her powers. SHE COULD STAY.

"B-But" she stammered, overwhelmed by being handed a pardon by the executioner "M-my co-workers... the p-petition..."

"Oh your coworkers? YOUR COWORKERS?!!" he roared. Amazingly, it seemed the volcano could explosive twice in a row "Well, miss Rits, its a very funny thing. Your COWORKERS just so happen to be my EMPLOYEES!!! So, I really don't give a DAMN WHAT THEY SAY, OR WHAT DAMNFOOL PETITION THEY SIGN!! And if any of them so much as HINTS that they might be unhappy with my decisions, they can come and talk to ME!! AM I MAKING MYSELF CLEAR?!!!"

Tara felt like smiling. He'd just told her to refer all bigots and complainers to him, the Bullpen Pitbull. But she couldn't smile, it might ruin it. Instead she glared right back "I WILL!! And I'll be free of you inside FIVE YEARS!!" She stormed out and slammed the door. She hummed all the way back to what was left of her desk.

-+-+-+-+-+

Alone again in his office, Jameson sighed. Poor girl, life wasn't going to be easy for her. Contrary to most people's expectations, he wasn't a mutant hater. True, he despised superheroes but only as he despised any group that put itself above the law. As far as he was concerned mutants either made headlines (good), wrote headlines (also good), or bought papers (very very good). Whichever they were, they were PEOPLE. J Jonah Jameson had a lot of flaws, but bigotry wasn't among them.

Still he was angry. Four new computers melted, smoke and heat damage to the walls, the copier was down-mostl ikely for good- and five desks to be replaced. Not to mention the lost time the whole mess cost him (always a critical factor in any paper). It was damn sure they'd lost that big scoop Parker'd brought in, since the other papers'd would have time to catch up. Hell, they might end up BEING scooped! The very thought set his teeth on edge.

Then there was the staff! Half of them were calling Rits a safety hazard, or a filthy mutie, or what-the-hell-ever, and demanding she be fired. The other half were demanding she be allowed to stay. Although he supported worker's rights, Jameson was unused to HIS employees making demands. Usually, they were too frightened of him to say much more than 'Yes,sir, right away sir'. As God intended.

All in all, the day was enough to make him wonder why he ever got into publishing. Law Enforcement, that's it. I should have been a cop. At least then, if people gave me this many problems, I would have a gun ready.

"Mister Jameson, that young man from the editing department is here with a petition"

He sighed "I'm REALLY not.." he paused. A very bad day. A bigoted, obnoxious, and above all, EXPENDABLE employee...

"on second thought, send him right in. I am EXACTLY in the mood for this."

He smiled, and lit a fresh cigar. The day was about to get better.

For him, anyway.

End

A/N: I like ol' JJJ. Hard as Nails exterior, a good man beneath it. Not soft and fluffy, but he's been helping Peter out for years- buying photos just because he knew Petey needed money. And honestly, look at the panel wear he sees Spiderman unmask in Civil War and then tell me it isn't the funniest thing you'rve ever seen. I dare you!