New Branches

(Continued)

"They certainly are a handful," Xavier had to admit. "How is Wanda getting along with the boys?"

"She adores the twins  . . . but she's not having such an easy time with the older boys."

"Lance! Dinner!" Wanda called, for the third time.
Fred had finally come home, and Wanda had to threaten him with bodily harm to keep him away from the food until everyone was there. Lance didn't seem to want to come out of his room.

Lance himself, meanwhile, was curled up in a ball on his bed.
I hated that stupid job, he thought. So why am I so upset that it's gone?
Especially since he was the one who had quit in the first place.

Wanda had had enough.
She went up to Lance's room and knocked on the door.
"Uh?"
"Didn't you hear me call you?"
"I dunno."
"I called you three times! I've had to practically tie Freddy to a chair to keep him from eating everything, and you won't come join us! Aren't you hungry?"

"No, not really." Lance sighed.

"Are you okay?"
Lance didn't know how to answer her. "I dunno."
"Do you feel all right? You're not getting sick, are you?"

"I dunno . . ." He didn't know how else to describe it.

"This have anything to do with work?" Wanda asked.

"What makes you think--"
"The fact that you came home four hours early was my first clue."

"It's a long story."

"Can you tell us after dinner?" Wanda said.

"If my head hasn't exploded by then."

"You should take something."
"Why? It wouldn't help."

What could it be?

"Just leave me," Lance said.

He turned over . . . and found Wanda staring him in the face.
"Gaaaah!"
"Are you going to come to dinner, or do I have to start getting rough?" She waved her hands in the direction of his CD collection.
"How did you get in here? I thought I locked the door!"

"Well, you didn't."

"Okay, I guess you're right," Lance said. "I'll come down, but I can't promise that I'll eat anything."

"Been that kind of day?"

"You can say that again."

Fred wasn't actually tied to a chair, but he certainly felt like he was. 

"Why can't I eat?" he demanded. "I'm hungry!"

"Yeah, we're all hungry, Fred!" Pietro said. "We gotta wait for Lance."
"Why?"
"Cause Wanda said so."

"Oh, man . . ." Fred groaned.

"You can relax," Lance said. "I'm here."

He sat down, but really didn't feel like eating. Or telling everyone what had happened that day. He was mad--but he wasn't sure with whom. Himself? The Evil Boss? Mystique? He sat there while the others ate, trying to sort it out.

"Not Dented Can Surprise again," Toad moaned.
Wanda gave him a dangerous look. "We're low on funds again. Beggars can't be choosers."

"Besides," Lance chimed in, "you eat flies."

"Why do you always gotta bring that up?"

Before they could do any more arguing, Lance dropped the bombshell of the day on them.

"I quit my job."

There was silence for a moment. Then . . . everything went nuts.

"Yaaaaaaaay!" Toad cheered. "You're free! Free of the fascist dictator!"
"Where did you learn words like that?"
"History Channel."

Wanda stared at Lance in disbelief. "I thought you hated that job!"
"I thought so too."

"So what made you change your mind?"

"People are idiots."

He toyed with his fork...

"Will you eat something before I throw a plate at you?" Wanda demanded.

"OK,OK." Lance grumbled as he shoveled some whatever in his mouth.

"And you guys think I'm a sloppy eater?" Blob said to Pietro.

Magneto chose that moment to return home, and he wasn't too happy. "What's this?" he demanded.
"What's what?"

"This."

"What?"

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Not anymore."

Magneto didn't like the sound of that. "Did they fire you?"
"No, I quit. I couldn't take the aggravation anymore."

Must not kill Lance . . . "You're going to look for another one tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah,maybe," Lance said.

"Maybe? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look, don't bug me . . ."

"I have every right to bug you if you're going to be irresponsible and just quit! Did you even think about the consequences of your actions?"
"Yeah! I thought about not having that stupid job any longer!"

Must not beat Lance to pulp . . .

"What are you going to do for money now?"

"Go on The Weakest Link?" Toad suggested, trying to be helpful.

"I don't see what the problem is!" Lance shouted.

Wanda shook her head in disbelief. "Do you want to have money to buy presents for your little girlfriend?"
"What girlfriend?"

"Kitty Pryde," Wanda said with a smirk.

"There's nothing going on between me and Kitty, and even if there were, it's none of your business!"

Even Magneto flinched at that one.

"I'm going to my room." With that, Lance stormed out.

"I'll get him a job," Magneto announced. "And this time I'll make sure he can't quit or be fired."

"Good luck," Pietro snickered.

"You're next."

Pietro's eyes practically burst out of their sockets. "But-but-but . . ."

"But nothing."

"Why do we even need a job?" Toad complained. "You got money. A lot of money."

Magneto sighed. "I haven't got enough to waste on you idiots!"
"Hey! Who's an idiot?" said Fred.

Magneto threw up his hands. "Case in point."

Not far away, the twins had dozed off in their father's lap. They were each clutching their favorite toys. They looked so cute, but . . .

"Uh . . . someone wanna get these kids off me?"

Mystique heard him. "Oh, but they look so cute!"
"Yeah, but I can't get up if they're on top of me! Can we move them without waking them up?"

"Hmmm . . ." Very carefully, she picked up Jared. So far, so good.

Then she scooped up John, and carried both babies to their crib.
Neither one made a sound.

She tucked a small Teletubby under Jared's arm. John had a little bulldozer. (Logan preferred Bob the Builder.)

"Look at them," Logan whispered.

"Aren't they precious."
"Yeah. Wanna make some more?"

"Now?"

"Why not?"

In their cribs, Jared and John listened to Mommy and Daddy talking about things they didn't quite get.

Big people were complicated.

Elsewhere, Kitty and some her friends from the Institute were surfing the Net looking for sites where they could get toys for the twins.

"Here's a good one!"

It was a teddy bear that played music when you pressed its tummy. And not just any music. It played classical songs, and had a mini-disc that could be programmed with music downloaded from the Net.

Kitty clicked the order button . . . at which point a window asked,"What is the name of the child for who you are purchasing this item?"

"Uh . . . does it know there's more than one child?"

Probably not, she reflected to herself. There was only one space.
When she typed in "John and Jared", the screen prompt said 'JohnandJared is not a valid name.'

"Call the 800 number," suggested Kurt.

So she did. She spent ten minutes on hold before being connected to a representative, and another ten trying to explain the problem.

"Can you see a pulldown menu on the screen?" the help desk person said.

"Yes, but it doesn't work when I click on it."

"OK, hit the refresh button on your browser and try it again."

She did so. Then she typed in 'John and Jared' again, and this time it worked.

"Now that's more like it," Kitty said. She finished ordering the toy, and said to the operator, "Thanks for the help."

"Anytime."

Elsewhere, New York Daily Bugle editor J. Jonah Jameson was furiously typing away another anti-mutant editorial in his office. It harshly trashed mutants in general, but it was particularly venomous on the subject of Charles Xavier.
"Lousy bald-headed son of a . . ." Jameson muttered to himself, glaring at Xavier's photo. Ever since that stupid Institute had opened up, he reflected bitterly, mutants had come crawling out of the woodwork. If it weren't for them . . .
"Mr.Jameson?"
Great. That Parker kid would pick now to interrupt. It was like he had a freakin' radar in his camera that could detect the worst possible time to come into the office.
"What is it this time, Parker?" Jameson grumbled.
Peter Parker set his camera down on an empty chair and said, "Mr. Jameson, I was wondering if you'd decided who to send to the Xavier Institute for the photo essay?"
Oh, God, why did he have to ask that now? Jameson thought sourly.

As he was speaking, the fax whirred to life.
FUGITIVE NABBED IN HOLDUP SNAFU
A woman wanted for six convenience store robberies in the state of New York was apprehended yesterday after her getaway driver apparently drove off without her. Carmen Costanza, aka Constanza Petros, aka Connie Alvers, has been sought by police for complicity in similar crimes going as far back as 1987. The district attorney vows to put her behind bars once and for all.

The getaway driver, who has still not been identified, was last seen heading toward Bayville . . .

"So what's the deal with this Parker kid who's supposed to be coming to the Institute tomorrow? Logan asked Professor Xavier over the phone.

"He says he's been assigned to a story on mutants . . . more specificially, a photo essay for the front section of the Daily Bugle."
"Oh. That rag." Logan's disdain for J. Jonah Jameson's brainchild reverberated through the phone lines.

"I hope you'll bring the twins."

Logan glanced over at his sons. "Sure, but what for? It ain't like they've got powers or anything."

"There's a surprise waiting for them in my office."

"You didn't get them toys too, did you? This house is beginning to look like the back room of Toys R Us!"

"No, not toys . . ."

"Well, what then?"

"I've been thinking about the twins' future schooling . . ."

"We've got time. They're only four months old. They can't even turn over on their own yet."

Xavier had to think fast. "I have some tests I'd like to perform. Nothing invasive, but I will need a blood sample."

What Xavier didn't mention was that the real reason he wanted Logan to bring the twins was he had savings bonds for them. He wanted to be sure they were provided for, for years to come. And they would be, according to his financial advisor; the two bonds, combined, would be worth close to three million dollars by the time Jared and John were eighteen.

Of course, there was no way of knowing how much that would buy then. But there was no helping that.

Meanwhile, Lance was filling out a job application across town.
"Excuse me?" he said.
The woman who'd given him the application walked over. "What is it, dear?"
"Where it says 'Mother's maiden name'?"
"Oh, that's just for identification purposes."
"But I didn't know her first name! Not her real one, anyway."
The woman didn't know what to make of this. "Well, what's on your birth certificate?"
"That's no help. It's a fake. I know because I tried to track my parents down years ago. No luck. It's as if I don't really exist."

"Hmmmm . . ."

"Does that mean I don't get the job?"

The woman looked at him. "I'll have to talk to the manager. Wait right here."

She went into a back room.

I blew it, Lance thought.

What he didn't know was that Magneto had already contacted the management and told them to give him the job.

The last thing he wanted was to have Lance hanging around the house all day.

Back at the Parker home, Peter was talking on the phone to Mary Jane Watson. She couldn't quite believe he was going to the Xavier Institute. " . . . Petey, you have GOT to be pulling my leg. Even Ted Koppel can't get in there . . ."

"No kidding! I'm still trying to figure out what I did right this week."

"Well, it must have been something pretty big."

"I wish you could come along, but . . ."

"Yeah, me too. If I didn't have to housesit all weekend . . ."

"I'll tell you all about it when I get back."

"Great. Oh, and Peter . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Try not to get in any fights with Doctor Octopus this time,OK?"

"Hey, he started it!"

"Good point."

He'd pack his Spidey suit just in case, even if he didn't plan on using it. Supervillains were nothing if not unpredictable.

(I guess it's crossover month! Evo Spidey is probably closest to the movie version. Will we have any big fights? Hey, even I don't know for sure! Keep watching this space for Chapter 3!)