John Bernardin sighed as he passed through security. It was the same routine he went through every morning. Same building. Same guards, same scanner. Shouldn't be surprised, he thought as he passed through it for the thousandth time.
"Hey Mike," he said as the guard ran the metal detector over him. "Did ya' catch the game last night?"
"Naw," the guard replied, "dinner with the in-laws."
"That sucks man," John said as the tiny probe passed over his legs. "It was to die for. Final score-"
"Don't tell me!" the guard playfully snapped as he straitened his back. "I taped it and plan to watch it tonight. I don't want any spoilers."
"Well it was killer," John said as he headed down the hall, adjusting his tie as he did so. Being an employee of Stark international, he had to look his best, especially since he worked the front desk. He sighed as he approached the front desk, knowing an uneventful day was ahead of him. Already, there was a small lineup of people waiting to be seen. And John noticed that once again, most of them seemed to be more interested in his boss's alter-ego than the business itself. Every day, he was forced to turn fans away due to the rule implanted by the company's co-director, Pepper Potts. A particular incident involving a ten-year old with Leukemia remained lodged in his mind. Apparently the boy had weeks to live, and even after a phone call to his supervisor, he had been unable to secure a personal visit like the boy wanted.
As he sat down in his designated chair, the phone began to ring, as if on cue.
"Stark International Customer service," John said with a monotone expression as a woman with striking blonde hair strode up to his desk. "Unfortunately sir, we are not hiring at this time...No, we will not accept your resume and hold it. Please keep an eye on the careers section of our website. Thanks you, goodbye," John sighed as he placed the phone down and stared at the woman. Although John was a married man, there was no denying that this woman was good-looking. "How may I help you?" he asked.
"I'm looking for Tony Stark," she said with an air of confidence. Great, John thought with a grunt. Either she's a disgruntled ex-girlfriend or a crazed fan-girl.
"I'm sorry, miss," he replied, "Mr Stark doesn't see people without an appointment an-"
"He'll see me," she replied steadily.
"Miss," John grunted as he straitened a series of papers. "I'm sorry but I can't-" He was cut off by the woman reaching over his desk, grabbing him by the shirt and hoisting him into the air like a child would a rag-doll.
"Where is Tony Stark?" she repeated with force.
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"Are you sure it's legal for me to be here?" M.J asked as she was led through the halls of the New York Police department's crime lab. "Because-"
"You are a relative of the deceased, right?" Carlie Cooper replied as she pushed open a door. A bob of short hair topped a young woman with glasses over her eyes and professionally casual attire. A clipboard was in her hand as she fumbled with a key in her other. "Because being related to the deceased gives you accesses to their remains at any tie you wish."
"Then I guess I am related to-" MJ began.
"Alistair Smythe," Carlie replied as she opened the door to the morgue. Immediately, MJ was bombarded with a series of gut-wrenching smells. "That's the smell of the preservatives we use," Carlie continued as she moved over to a steel wall with a series of drawers. "Plug your nose," she finished. MJ complied as Carlie pulled open a drawer, revealing a greenish carcass that had a pungent smell. She immediately recognized the body from the news as being the recently-deceased Spider-slayer.
"Did you have to bring that thing out?" MJ asked as she covered her mouth, in order to avoid the urge to vomit. "I mean...uunngg"
"I wanted to show you something," Carlie said as she manoeuvred around the body. "There's a puncture wound at the base of his neck that was never properly explained in the Mayor's report. My boss says it's a bullet wound, but it doesn't match any calibre that was recorded to be on the island," she said as she pulled a piece of paper out of her folder.
"And what is that supposed to mean to me?" MJ replied with a huff, "you're Sherlock here, not me."
"I know, Watson," Carlie replied with a grin as she pulled out a second document. "The wound lookss like it was caused by Smythe's own talon. In a place only someone with a degree in medical science would know. Someone who may have been so desperate to live that he somehow swapped bodies with another individual."
"I'm not quite sure what you're-" MJ began to say.
"Remember his last fight with Octavious?" Carlie said as she adjusted her glasses. "Ock looked terrible, but yet he refused to land a lethal blow, despite the odds. How any times has he tried to kill people in the past?"
"Too many to count," MJ said with a slight shudder, how many ties did I have to wonder if he'd finally be killed by that madman?
"Exactly," Carlie continued as her expression turned grim. "I don't know if you know this, but I was in the building when Ock escaped the last time. I just turned a corner and he was staring at me. I panicked and grabbed a gun. I shot at him, and he blocked the bullets, but refused to strike back."
"Maybe he wanted to escape, and not waste time," MJ shrugged, "if that's all yo-"
"I got a good look at his face too," Carlie continued as she pushed the carcass back inside it's prison. "Way to much concern in his features, and not over his escape. He had that same glimmer that Pe...Spider-man has whenever he's swinging about." The metal door shut with a clank! And Carlie motioned for MJ to follow her out of the room.
"So what you're saying is...?" MJ asked as she shifted her purse on her shoulder.
"What if Octavious took over his body?"
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She walked up the marble steps, towards the grand oak doors. They where the very style of door that Ben had promised her many years ago. But that dream had died out with him. But now she was forced to look beyond the past dream and cross the threshold. Her nephew's life depended on it. She gently pressed the buzzer. Seconds later, a thin, elderly an in a sharp suit opened the door with practised grace.
"May I enquire who you are calling for, Madam?" the man said with a modernized British accent.
"I'm calling for my Nephew," May said in an equally calm tone. "Your employer saw fit to send him to the hospital two days ago. No one has bothered to contact me about his condition."
"Unfortunately, Mr Stark is not on the premises," the man, who May remembered as Edwin Jarvis, replied. "But please," he said as he opened the door even wider, "come inside and I will see if I can find someone with some answers."
"Thank you," May said as she stepped inside the foyer very few got to see. It was a true sight to behold. A line of life-sized statues lined one wall, each depicting an Avenger posed heroically. She moved to examine each one at a closer distance as Edwin ascended the staircase to her left. Each statue was made of marble, and resembled those that could only bee seen in Museums around the world. The first was of Iron Man himself, depicted as the golden avenger the public saw him as. To his left was a saluting Captain America, the soldier from world war two, who had been brought to the modern age.
Two more figures followed, Dr Henry Pym and his one-time wife, the Wasp. It bothered May that Pym's statue was on display with these legends, if the rumours Peter had told her once where true. How could someone accused of domestic abuse be allowed to stand up with Earth's mightiest heroes? She considered him to be below the monstrosity known as the Hulk, who could at least chalk his rampages up to a split-personality disorder. But her attention was diverted towards as series of newspaper clippings that had been framed behind these statues that caught her attentions. Three in particular stood out from the rest. Written in bold letters across the page was 'Ms Marvel saves local restaurant'
Thick paragraphs followed, but May didn't bother with them. Instead, she focused on the picture. It showed a strongly-posed woman standing outside a diner, with two restrained figures at her feet. The woman was smiling for the cameras that had no undoubtedly been flashing her way. She smiled as her eyes flowed to the left corner of the picture, which contained a young, smiling man she recognized easily as she glazed towards the next picture.
'Heroes challenge tyrant over Asgard' showed Peter standing with collection of Avengers, his arm wrapped around Ms Marvel's shoulders. Although he wore his mask, she could tell that he was smiling, along with the woman who he was leaning against. She shifted her gaze once more towards the final frame that caught her attention. 'Heroes over Boston' showed the newly christened Captain Marvel coming to a landing, with Peter in her arms. This was her favourite clipping, as it showed the clear spark that Peter got in his eye whenever the heroine was mentioned, either in casual conversation or over the news. And every time that happened, it brought a smile to her face.
"I suppose you're the one Jarvis was talking about?" a voice said from behind. May turned around to see a woman with shoulder-length hair that was jet-black. She was wearing loose-fitting track pants and a sweat-stained grey shirt. "You're here about Spidey?"
"I am," May gulped, "where is he?"
"Unfortunately," the woman said with a downcast expression, "he's not here right now. He's...he's being held in a secure cell right now."
"A cell?" May snapped as she crossed the distance between herself and the woman. "He's done no-"
"Mam," she said calmly, "I understand you're upset. A few of us here are as well. But it's the law. We have to hold him until his trial tomorrow."
"And then he's free to go?" May fumed uncharacteristically.
"Things aren't looking so good right now," the woman replied as she put a hand on May's shoulder. "There's a lot of evidence against him and...it's got a few people upstairs out for blood."
"So you're going to let him rot-" May bellowed, only to be silenced by the woman again.
"Captain Marvel went out this morning to look for a little bit of evidence," The woman said, somewhat forcefully as she gestured for May to follow her down the hall. "Hopefully she'll dig up something that proves his innocence. And I've got a contact in the NYPD who say's a crime scene investigator has been snooping around for more evidence. Now, does he have a lawyer?"
"No," May replied, berating herself for flying off the handle at someone who was trying to help Peter. "No, he can't afford one."
"Well," the woman replied softly, "we can always try making a deal with a devil."
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Anthony 'Tony' Stark/Iron Man:
"Carol," he smiled as he walked into the private meeting room. "Couldn't resist my charms, could you?" He gracefully crossed the distance between himself and the second Captain of the Avengers. And a hell of a lot better looking one too, he thought as he clasped her hand in his, only to have her pull away. "What brings you to the technology capitol of New York at this hour?"
"Your suit emits a sonic pulse, correct?" Carol asked with a stern expression. "In order to map out an environment for autopilot and data analysis?"
"When did you become a tech-head?" he asked as he moved to the cabinet, in which he kept several bottles of liquor.
"Answer the question," she said firmly.
"Strait and to the point," he replied as he grabbed two small glasses and began to pour. "want a drink?"
"We're both recovering alcoholics," Carol rebuffed, "neither of us should touch that stuff. Now about the suit..."
"You've got no idea how tough it is to run a business," he replied as he took a sip. "It's all about moderation. And what do you need my suit for?"
"I just need the recordings," Carol replied as she gazed out the window.
"And this couldn't wait until tonight's meeting?" Tony replied as he took another sip. "You just had to barge in here and threaten one of my employees? Now I might have to give that man a raise."
"I need it now," Carol huffed as she turned to face him. "It's urgent."
"You want the recordings of Monday night," he smirked, knowing what she was after. "Don't you?"
"I do," she said, "do you have them with you?"
"No," he replied as he walked around to the other side of the table that occupied the centre of the room. "It's at the Mansion. But I can have Jarvis forward the data onto your I.D card, which will project a three-dimensional recording for you."
"Thank you Tony," she said with a half-smile. "You won't regret it. And if I can make it up to you I-"
"You. Me. Dinner. Tomorrow ni-" He began to say as a grin crossed his lips.
"I'm busy," she said as she walked over to the large, glass windows and pulled one open. In a flash, she had taken off into the sky.
A/N: So, Peter's got some people coming to his side. Let's hope they can pull through...
Concrit reviews are welcomed!