Disclaimer: I own a Spiderman DVD….but no comics…

A/N: Another chapter. It seems I actually have time to write these days. Which is great! Thanks for taking the time to read my work.

Well! Your back I see…is my life really that interesting? Don't answer that. I really don't want to know. If I wasn't being forced (talked) into doing this I'd tell the whole lot of you to fu..Ok Ok mom, I'm not cussing…gesh.

So anyway, where was I? Uh huh, right. Great thanks…

I hate this telling my life story thing. But, in my defense I don't need your help to tell it. All right, all right just let me start why don't you!

Anyway…before I was so rudely interrupted I was about to continue with my story. I've already told you about my parents' early relationship so we are going to move on.

Now mom was pregnant with me….well you get that point! So I'm going to skip ahead to when I'm five and I actually remember things…sort of.

I'll start with my fifth birthday party. We were living in New Jersey. A small town called Closter. It's about a half hour drive from the George Washington bridge and New York City. Both my parents worked in New York City for both of their jobs. (Spiderman had nothing on them. However Spiderman never got arrested…and had some pretty sweet comic books…anyway.) They had this great alternating plan that allowed one of them to work at protecting the city while the other was home with me. (No preschool for little Warren Battle.) They ran a translation service out of their home so a cover job was very easy for them.

Paid well too. Closter and the surrounding towns were not cheap places to live. Even more expensive there now…mansions on every corner, no originality whatsoever. I liked it when we lived there, though.

Well, it's my birthday and I'm five. My great aunt and uncle had come in for my birthday and to visit their nephew and his wife. I was in a REALLY good mood.

Then it happened.

All five of us were gathered around the kitchen table. Mom left the room to go to the garage. She returned with a brightly lit ice cream birthday cake. (Dad was nice enough to remain far away so it wouldn't melt before everyone had a piece.)

It had six candles (Two were red two were black. One was blue.) five for my age and one for good luck, of course.

Dad turned out the lights and Mom placed the cake down in front of me. I remember hearing my great aunt telling me to make a wish as I blow out the candles.

But, as I looked down at that Oreo ice cream cake I had this really weird feeling, a sort of feverish feeling. It didn't make any sense and it scared me. Hell, I was five I just wanted to open my gifts…but no.

As I went to blow the candles out the opposite happened.

The flames that danced from the top of the candles instead of shrinking grew larger. Within seconds the whole cake had melted and actually started to boil. Oh and yah, the table was on fire.

So were my hands…

That's when my Dad started to laugh. He also took the time to extinguish the flames that were consuming his kitchen table and threatening to spread to other various furniture items.

I however, didn't see any humor in this. My hands were on fire for crying out loud! Mom had always told me fire was dangerous and that it should never be played with! (I at five had never seen my dad's powers in action)

So I did what any five year old with a spoiled birthday party would do. I promptly bust into tears…which evaporated in the fire that covered my hands.

I think Mom was in shock. My aunt and uncle certainly were!

Dad was the only one taking all of this in stride. He picked me up in this big bear hug and put out the fire that on my hands.

He was absolutely thrilled! His only son had his powers!

He just couldn't stop laughing and congratulating me. My mom joined into the hug (once the fire was out) and told me how proud she was of me. She couldn't stop running her fingers through my hair. It wouldn't be till the next morning that I figured out why…

Oh, before I continue here, if you tell anyone about all these cozy Hallmark moments…I will roast you. And if you don't die from the extreme burns, I know several people that will finish the job for me. Just a friendly warning…I was five!

When I finally stumbled out of bed the next morning and looked in the floor length mirror that hung on my door I stopped dead and became fully awake instantly.

My solid dark brown hair had vivid strips of red in it.

Oh boy, like that's normal for a five year old boy of a strait laced small (wealthy) town family.

Good thing I didn't have to go to preschool.

The next thing I know my Dad comes bursting into my room looking really excited. He literally drags me downstairs where my mom and aunt and uncle have another cake (not ice cream this time) sitting on the counter for me.

The remains of the kitchen table are no where to be seen, I guess they cleaned up and got rid of the scorch marks when I went to bed utterly exhausted.

I was too scared and excited to attempt to blow out the candles this time.

Dad started to laugh again. This time we all joined in with him.

I also finally got the chance to open my gifts, which seemed to have multiplied over night. I certainly wasn't complaining about that!

My parents were so proud of me; life at that moment seemed so perfect.

Amazing how things change with time, huh?

Oh, there once was a reader that reviewed…