"Good Grief!" What is all that?" Anna exclaimed whe he crashed into the kitchen with both arms heavily laden with file boxes.

He plunked his burden down onto the breakfast bar and took his briefcase from between his teeth.

"This," he said as he patted one stack of boxes. "Is the new Mutant Criminal Registration Act, and this," He said patting the other stack. "Is the new Hate Crime initiative."

She frowned as she rearranged her bowls and cutting board so that he could have more room for his boxes. "All that sounds ominous."

"Well," he said as he shoved the boxes further onto the counter. "From what I've read so far, both are very intelligently and fairly written. It's refreshing to read something written by someone who appears to be completely neutral in regards to anything pertaining to mutant-kind. As a politician, one tends to gravitate toward one extreme or another. He is proving to be a perfectly neutral political mediator."

"Oh?" She laughed as she picked up the cheese grater. "Isn't that kind of a contradiction in terms?"

He grinned and moved around the counter for a kiss. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and kissed him soundly. "Welcome home," she breathed with a contented sigh.

He made a small, pleased sound. "It's good to be home." He murmured against her lips before pulling away and taking off his suit coat. He glanced down at the heavily laden counter, surprised at how much was laid out.

"What's all this?"

"Carnitas, Mofongo, beans and yellow rice." She said as she started grating a block of mozzarella.

"That sounds wonderful," He enthused. He loosened his tie and sat at to kick off his shoes. "I am absolutely famished."

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Why don't you get comfortable?" She suggested. "It will be another hour and a half before everything is ready."

He rose and snagged one of the stacks of boxes with an ease that belied their true weight and brought a delighted twinkle to his wife's eye. He rather enjoyed her reactions to displays of his strength and agility. Never in his life had he really enjoyed the prowess naturally afforded to him by his mutation, as he did being married to Anna. She found the most casual displays immensely appealing, and he loved nothing more than to show off in little ways for her.

"That sounds like a plan, my Love. In the meantime, I'm going to peruse Graydon's handiwork."

There was a sudden clatter and a hiss of pain from behind him. He turned to see that the cheese grater and the bowl of cheese had fallen to the floor, and Anna was closely examining her bloodied knuckles.

"Ow ow, dammit OWW!"

He hurriedly set down his burden and strode over to assess the damage.

"I'm alright," She protested with minor irritation at herself. "I just barked my knuckles. "What was that name again?"

"Graydon Creed," He muttered distractedly as he tore off a paper towel and blotted gently at her shaved knuckles. "He's a relatively new congressman from Mississippi, but so far he's proven himself to be a gifted mediator and a brilliant lawmaker."

He glanced at her as he ran her hand under the faucet. She was very pale and staring out the kitchen window with a troubled expression .

"Anna, are you alright?"

She blinked and seemed to shake herself. "Uh, yeah. I..I'm fine. That just really hurt…"

She pulled her hand away and gave him a weak smile. "I'd better go and find some band-aids," She muttered, hurrying off to the bathroom.

He stared after her in surprise, puzzled at her strange behavior. He fetched the broom and dustpan and started to clean. He put the cheese grater and bowl in the sink and swept the spilled cheese into the garbage.

She came back, just as he was putting the broom and dustpan away.

"Are you alright?" He asked solicitously.

She kissed him perfunctorily and rummaged around for pots and pans.

"I'm fine," She shrugged distractedly. "I hate it when I peel my knuckles like that."

He watched her putter about the kitchen, and noted the change in her entire bearing with a building sense of unease.

"My love, are you sure you're alright?"

She glanced up at him and gave him a blank smile. "Yeah, I just threw off my groove, that's all. Go on and get yourself settled in while I get dinner on the table."

Over the next few weeks, Hank noticed that his wife was behaving peculiarly. Where she had always fairly abhorred politics, she was suddenly immersing herself in everything he did. He was surprised to find her watching the news more frequently ,especially the political commentators. He was shocked to come home one evening to find her reading the new bills and furiously taking notes as she read. Her sudden interest troubled him, and her sudden interest was accompanied by a frighteningly subdued and perturbed mood that was giving him a building sense of foreboding.

Intent on getting to the heart of the matter, he pulled up a chair and sat next to her.

"Anna," he began in a grave voice. "Is something wrong?"

So intent on her reading, she didn't even take her eyes off the pages before her. "No," she replied in a tense, yet offhand tone that immediately put him on his guard.

Something was very wrong here. He could feel his hackles rising in apprehension. Anna did not conceal things from him. This had to be something to do with her extraordinary foreknowledge, and her behavior suggested something terrible.

"Anna, what is going on here?"

She glanced up at him with a strained expression of innocence.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?"

He growled irritably. "Don't be coy with me. You've been acting strangely ever since I brought home Graydon's proposed bills!"

There was no mistaking it this time; she flinched when he spoke his colleague's name.

"What?" He demanded, going cold inside. "What is it!" He took her hand in his and touched her face with the other. "I can't bear to see you so disturbed!"

Her carefully maintained expression of ignorance crumbled into an expression of such agonized indecision that he snatched her out of her chair and cradled her protectively against his chest. Her façade shattered, she shuddered and gasped against him, clutching at his shirt and shaking like a frightened child.

"I don't know what to do Hank!" She cried. "There's something big coming, something terrible and there's nothing I can do to stop it!"

It took a long time for her to calm down. She wept and clung to him as if afraid that he would vanish if she let go. He carried her gently to the living room and sat with her on the recliner. When she was finally able to calm herself, she began to haltingly explain.

"I don't know exactly how it's going to happen, but I know what is coming. If I interfere in any way, tell someone the wrong thing, it could turn out a million times worse that I already know it will."

She sniffled and wiped her face with his hankie. "I'd hoped it wouldn't happen so soon," She cried. "I'd hoped for a little more warning!" She closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths.

Hank could feel the growing dread settled like a great void in the center of his chest. "What can you tell me?"

She sat up and gazed intently into his eyes. "Whatever you do, do NOT trust Graydon Creed."