This is just a reminder: We're still going movieverse here, people. ;) Tell me what you think!

VVVVVVVVVVVV

CHAPTER TWO

An explosion shattered the mahogany door, sending pieces of it shooting into the vast, shadowed room beyond. Five black-clad men bearing machine guns leaped inside, the lights that were mounted on their weapons sweeping through the dusty darkness. They kicked the debris aside, and it rattled as it skittered across the marble floor.

Slowly, the gunmen relaxed, and one glanced behind him.

"He's not here, boss."

A towering figure crunched his way over the rubble, the end of his lit cigar throwing shadows against his chiseled, dark features. He wore a white suit, and stood a full head taller than the other men. He passed through his gang and stopped at the front of it, glancing warily around the room.

"He's here somewhere." The deep, rumbling voice of the powerful black man echoed against the hard walls of the chamber.

"Indeed, I am."

They all whirled--except the tall man--to see a hologram sputter to life in the far corner. It was a mere flickering, black-and-white image--nevertheless, a second potent presence suddenly filled the room. The hologram was of a knife-like young man wearing a long riding cloak, his narrow face framed by straight black hair, his eyes piercing across the distance. The tall man in the white suit stepped toward him.

"You're a coward--you won't even face me yourself," he snarled.

The younger man cocked his head.

"I have neither need nor desire to face you, Fisk."

Fisk shook his head and took his cigar from his mouth.

"No. You're just worried that I'll knock your head in because of the gig you pulled."

The black-robed man raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"The devil you don't," Fisk advanced on the hologram. "The mutant-killing emitters you sold me for millions of dollars don't work."

The young man blinked.

"Really? I'm terribly sorry about that."

"Yeah," Fisk's eyes narrowed. "You will be. After I burn this house to the ground."

"Burn away," the young man answered flatly. "But you won't find anything useful. I'm not giving you any more."

"The only thing I ever got from you that was useful, I took!" Fisk chuckled roughly. The young man gave a twisted smile.

"I'm aware of that. Enjoy yourselves." The hologram sputtered, then went out. The Kingpin stood in silence a moment.

"Are we actually going to burn this place, boss?" one of his chronies asked hopefully. The boss bit down on his cigar.

"No. Not right now. He's probably not even on Manhattan. And it's too close to one of my banks." He strode past them, back toward the door. "I have work to do."

VVVVVVVV

The young man who had just projected his image into the upper level of the old Osborn mansion actually stood atop the Empire State Building, leaning against the spire, his arms crossed over his chest. He scowled down at the dark city, which was still alive and bustling even this late at night, blazing anger in his chest, a cold look on his face. The Kingpin would not burn the Osborn mansion--it was too close to the MidApple Bank, a place where Fisk held much of his funds. But it wasn't safe for the young man to return there. He lifted his face and inwardly swore. He turned, stepped soundlessly down from his perch, and faced the mainland. He had hoped he would not have to do this. But now it appeared he had no choice. Fixing his eyes on the river, he broke into a run, and leaped off of the building.

VVVVVVVVVVV

"Well, I'm sorry about--what's his name? Bruce?"

"Yeah. Bruce Banner." Tony slowly strolled with Pepper down one of the paths behind the Xavier mansion. It was a bright September day, and the air was crisp as fall made its relaxed approach. Tony stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and kicked an acorn.

"It's just frustrating. I'd like to help the guy. He's all by himself, living in a shack, afraid to come out because people are shooting at him with tanks."

Pepper slid her hand down and clasped his, then leaned her head over onto his shoulder.

"So I guess that means you don't want to do any wedding planning today?"

He blinked and turned to her, and she raised her face.

"I didn't say that. That's what we had planned, so if you--"

She smiled.

"It's okay, Tony. I know you're not in the mood. And frankly, I'm not either."

Tony frowned.

"What does that mean?" he wondered, putting on a suave air. "Aren't you anxious to marry someone as devilshly good-looking as me?"

Pepper smirked.

"I could say the same to you." She winked. "But I'd never get in the way of your superhero work."

Tony stopped and turned so he stood in front of her, clasping both of her hands. He gazed down at her elegant fingers, and rubbed her dainty engagement ring. He searched for words, then finally glanced seriously up at her.

"You know that you come before any kind of superhero work, don't you Pepper?" he asked quietly. "You know that, right?"

Pepper gazed back at him a moment, her expression softening.

"Yeah, I do."

He felt himself smile, then leaned forward and kissed her gently.

VVVVVVVVVV

Tony sat by the fire and stared out the dark window, having forgotten his coffee. He and Pepper had actually put off the wedding planning in favor of going out to lunch and walking around downtown Manhattan. Now he was tired, but even though everyone else had gone to bed, he was still thinking too much to be able to rest. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway. Tony didn't have to turn to know it was Logan.

"Don't you ever sleep?" He tossed the jibe over his shoulder.

"Look who's talking," came the muttered retort.

"At least I don't pace around like a metal-boned bear," Tony answered.

"I heard something."

Tony sat up, his amusement leaving him, and turned in his chair.

"What--outside?"

"Yeah."

"Like what?" Tony stood.

"Like a person," Logan said shortly. "Stay there."

"I'm not--"

"Do it."

Tony gritted his teeth. He hated the reminder, but he needed it. Without his suit, he had no special powers--and having mental genius wouldn't really help if people come running at him with guns.

Logan's footsteps quieted as he approached the door. Then, three purposeful knocks sounded against the wooden entrance. Tony held his breath. The door swung open.

Logan roared. Another man cried:

"Wait!"

But Logan did not. Punches rang out, and kicks struck home. Two struggling bodies thudded to the floor. Men's voices joined in outraged grunts and shouts. Tony's fists clenched. Logan's claws shot out with a shink. Everything went still.

Tony bolted out into the hallway--then skidded to a halt.

Logan's left-hand claws were out. The other hand gripped a young man by the back of the shirt. Logan, his teeth bared, viciously dragged the youth to his feet and shook him once, hard. Tony stared.

The younger man was pale, dressed all in black, with long, ebony hair hanging around his face. Blood trickled down his chin, and his blue eyes burned. Logan held the ends of his claws to the young man's throat. Tony forcefully gathered himself and strode forward.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Vicar," he said coldly. "Did you finally just get tired of your gloomy life and come here to end it all?" He stopped and crossed his arms, feeling his forearms press against his chest piece. "Because what else could you possibly expect by coming here?"

Vicar raised a surprisingly steady hand and wiped his mouth. He straightened himself as best he could with Logan's wicked claws so near his throat, and met Tony's gaze.

"I've come here to offer you something in exchange for sanctuary."

Wolverine snorted, and Tony arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, really? And what would that be?"

"Iceman is alive," Edmund Vicar said, narrowing his eyes. "And I know where he is."

TBC