Development Heaven(Marvel/OC)

By: Stewart92

Momma gets gud

Status: ongoing

Published: 2021-03-08

Updated: 2022-12-10

Words: 160667

Chapters: 37

Original source: https/forums./threads/923609

Exported with the assistance of

Development Heaven(Marvel/OC)

Introduction

1: Star: I'm Fired?!

2: The band: Legal Advice!

3: New Job: Escape Room!

4: The Ex! Who's at my door?!

5: A customer! A surprise guest?!

6: The Son Returns! A Party?!

7: The Dinner! A Bargain?!

8: A lunch. A plan!

9: Investment? Boom?

10: A home? A fire!

11: Burn! Strike!

12: Purifiers? Grate...

13: Rescue! Ressurection?!

14: Mercurial? Drugs?!

15: Iron! Girls?

16: Renters! Why him?!

17: Happy Days! Long days...

18: The Hangover. The Lump!

19: The Test. The Flex!

20: Cloak and Daggers?! Welcome home.

21: Tick Tock. Hello Sandra.

22: Softieware? Rats...

23: Therapy... Dinner Plans!

24: May Day! Plants?!

25: Visitors?

26: Spider? Needle!

27: Defanged? Detail!

28: Stitch of a Suit. Ties of a Family.

29: Civil Discussion. Demons in the Night.

30: Me and You. You and Me.

31: Murder most Fowl!

32: Afoot

33: The Locks and the Dogs

34: The Nose Knows?

35: Light? Let there be Sandra

36: Bone? Boned!

37: Coldson? Expansion!

1: Star: I'm Fired?!

Hey guys, like my Dusk story, this is a quest I sort of run on discord that I wanted to thread. The story in chapter one is 3rd person but I switch in chapter 2 and feels better. This is roughly an Inspired Inventor power but more aimed at skills in general. See how you like it. Marvel Universe is homebred, so I'm making elements as I go from what I like. I don't own anything belong to Marvel obviously.

Don't blame me for the skill choices. My questers control that. It's weirdly organic for a normal person I guess!

Thanks to PlasticSoldier and their great quest Diamond Hard for 'inspiring' me.

She stared at the aloof manager whose own face was unbothered.

"Fired?" she echoed the words that had shattered her world.

"Yes, we have discovered the leak of some minor projects linked back to your login and access level. Mr Osborn has little time for thieves. Be happy to know due to his kindness, he's still wavering on if the company will press charges or simply fire you with no potential to ever work in this field again," the manager said, voice clipped as if this was business as usual.

"I'm barely a level above the coffee maker! I don't even have access to the central file database, what could have I poss-" she stood up and the manager's tone sharpened suddenly, cutting her off.

"Miss AeKure, you have been fired, go home and await a letter to either be summoned to court or never bother our doorstep again," the manager said and turned on his heel, back stiff from the rod shoved his rear.

Sandra closed her mouth a moment later, the others around her looked down, hoping not to be caught in the firing range as if her sudden unemployment was a transmittable disease by sheer proximity.

"I… need my job," Sandra whispered as her computer screen registered a sudden logout error, the red message like the stamp on her fate.

Despite needing a job, she definitely couldn't go to court and be found guilty…

She slowly packed up her things. There wasn't much. Oscorp put on a good PR about co-workers laughing about the watercooler or having personalised desks, but the reality was that too much personality outside of special scientist positions was considered a bad mark.

Sandra found it beyond awkward to be sitting on the subway home, clutching her box of pens and notebooks. She had the air of the hung out to dry and even the usual creeps on the train were allowing her some peace in the form of pity.

When she finally climbed the four floors to her apartment (the elevator closer to a death trap than a helpful tool) she opened it and was just about to crack when she heard footsteps. Panicking, she shoved her box of office stuff in the coat closet as her daughter stuck her head around the corner.

"Mom? You're home early," she said by way of an unasked question.

"Emma, so are you!" Sandra pointed out with a slightly forced smile. Emma rolled her eyes with all the force of a sarcastic 11 year old could.

"It's Friday. We got let out earlier due to a football game. It was lame, but go Oxes!" Emma pumped her arm in a clearly unamused fashion.

Sandra's heart squeezed painfully when it hit her that this apartment would soon have debts piling up… or worse, Emma's mother was about to be put in the slammer. Sandra could lose her kids.

Speaking of…

"Where's your brother?" she asked, trying to swallow the lump in her voice. Emma shrugged.

"Nico went out with his friends. He said that I was told to stop asking questions and I ate spiders when I was asleep," Emma wrinkled her nose at Nico's words.

Sandra could see that. If Emma was dipping her toe into the pool of sarcasm, Nico, her 16 year old, had drowned in it long ago.

Sandra lasted until Emma went to bed and her son slunk in without a word and said he wasn't hungry when Sandra offered reheated spaghetti. The silence of the apartment besides the occasion snore of her children made her heart ache harder with each moment.

"What am I going to do?" Sandra asked her near an empty coffee cup in the kitchen, the lights of the Manhattan streets outside the only illumination.

Asking Oscorp for a reference was laughable if dangerous. Without a reference, she was basically a self-promoter who had to admit she was being charged as a thief and got fired. The thoughts churned over and over, her panic and despair welling up and as she hit rock bottom, sobbing on the kitchen floor.

Sanda AeKure cracked and in those cracks, she felt her world change.

In a second, she felt connected to herself. Not herself in this kitchen crying or perhaps even as a human. The multiverse, a series of existences close to Sandra's flashed past, and some version so alien she couldn't understand.

In a split second, Sandra connected a string to all the Sandra's in the potential sea.

Then she was back in her own head, but that connection remained open and something from her chest rose, eager to fly out in exchange for something. Sandra swallowed once, feeling how dry her lips were.

She climbed to her feet, feeling woozy, but the light she felt in her chest was insistent and it wanted to fly off, reacting to her jumbled thoughts.

"What the hell?" she mumbled as the light reacted to some pushes, but not others. People, names, locations, and other things had no result, but when she thought about Oscorp, about how the reason she got fired must lay on Norman Osborn's computers… that got a twitch in the words of Cyber-Security and similar terms.

But the light needed release. It was like heartburn.

Sandra focused and set it towards… coffee.

It was the only thing she could think of. The light exploded into knowledge, a sort of rearranging of everything she ever knew about the stuff. Her meager cheap stuff suddenly tasted bitter, as if she had spent hours tasting brews. Her memories install vague impressions of grinding the beans, the measuring of ratios to milk, and more.

In a single moment she honestly felt like she could give a decent chat about coffee to someone who was a passing expert. She knew how to grow some coffee, but the knowledge was definitely more aimed at the machine end. The better blenders, the right settings, and even some tips to make those cool foam pictures!

The moment passed and her brain settled again.

Then she began to hyperventilate.

Sandra had just reprogrammed her brain. That was not normal! She turned on the tap, rinsing her hands as she fazed in and out focus.

The optimal amount of milk for an espresso was-

"Oh my God," Sandra whispered to herself.

The coffee beans for those who liked bitter tastes were the beans grown in-

"Oh God," she pressed.

Some of the most expensive coffee was harvested from animal dung after being eaten.

Sandra blinked.

"First, ew, second… I know coffee," she whispered to herself, wondering if she had blown her only wish in this world on… coffee. Closing her eyes, she reached out for that light, relieved to feel it already growing again. It was small but it was growing.

It was hope that maybe she wouldn't have to give up her kids or her home. Sandra went to bed, still mentally reciting coffee facts to herself, unable to stop in case the magic stopped.

When Sandra awoke, she found her kids still passed out. She felt an uneasy feeling rise in her stomach about telling them about her job. It was more the pure shame on Sandra's part than any inability to communicate with her kids.

Her job at Oscorp had a potentially good paycheck, but a full-time coffee job would cover most expenses if there were a few cuts. If she kept doing coffee or spent her power (which was a really weird thing to think about) on other things, could she quickly recoup her losses?

Deciding to give herself until tomorrow night to tell the kids, Sandra made breakfast.

"My first day of my new life as a… Mutant? A Meta? The Avengers are going to love me. Sandra, the Super Barista," she grinned as she flipped eggs and buttered toast. It was a little shameful to admit but it had been a year after the Avengers beat up those aliens coming through a portal and New York was turned into a warzone. Sandra knew their names, but she didn't really tap into the hero-worship others had done.

Bills had to be paid and the trains weren't going to be running for sometime.

Sandra had wanted nothing more than to keep her head down and make sure her kids were safe. Life was just getting back to normal and now Sandra was like those heroes. Sort of.

Emma was a die-hard Captain America fangirl. She loved the guy, but the posters of Spider-Man she had on her wall said which was a close second. Spider-Man was… nice, it was just a shame he showed up then a literal deluge of animal villains followed him.

That horrible octopus man, the lizard creature, the Vulture, and who knows how many others.

The idea of putting on spandex and tackling those creeps made her grimace. Sandra hasn't worked out in a long time; so spandex was not happening.

"Morning," Nico said, shuffling into the sunlight like a ghoul. He was a handsome boy, with dark hair like Sandra, but where Sandra's hair was curly, Nico's was flat.

Nico's style was best described as 'being dragged backwards through a goth shop covered in glue with some glitter involved'. Sandra was hopeful when she said 'angry punk', but Nico assured her it was a 'happy grunge'.

"Ah, my beloved being of darkness. How doth the coven rage last night?" Sandra said in her best grandiose tone. Nico scowled, but she could see him fighting a smile.

"It's not a coven, Mom. It's a mutual respect of nature and defending it where we can. New York needs more green places," he insisted.

"As long as you didn't egg another developer's condo, I don't care. Just be smart and do drugs when you're in college. How's that girl, Pandora? You liked her," Sandra said, feeling a passing rush of normalcy at the talk.

"She moved away ages ago. Gwen said she had responsibilities up north or something. Besides, Garth said egging is a waste and encourages the abysmal chicken business and their appalling conditions," he lectured.

Ah to be 16 and to know everything. Sandra wanted some of that confidence back at her age.

After feeding her ever hungry teen and leaving some for her snoozing daughter, Sandra let the neighbor know that she was heading out and to keep an ear out for any trouble. She trusted her kids but…

Better safe than sorry. As a single parent, her kids were used to shuffling it on their own while Sandra made ends meet and did her best to hustle up their future.

Checking her mail slot, her heart sunk at an official letter.

'Miss AeKure,

You have been summoned to the Court house-'

No… no… no…

'-lawyers on behalf of Oscorp are pressing charges for theft and corporate sabotage of company secrets. Failure to show up will… '

Sandra had a 6 days until she was to appear before a judge. Sandra's mind raced, trying to figure out why she was being hounded for something she didn't do to this degree…

Did they need to make a message? Was a scapegoat needed that badly? Was Norman Osborn such a massive prick?

Sandra had to either find the real leaker or what 'projects' she supposedly stole, find a lawyer to drag the case out or get concrete evidence she did nothing wrong. Deciding she needed to know how she was screwed, she pushed the charge towards 'Law' allowing the knowledge to flow. The pleasant buzz of knowledge couldn't stop her nerves from ruining the moment.

The basic thing she learned was the twisty stages of the law, from the small claims courts to the more serious levels. The fact she hadn't been arrested made the case more a civil lawsuit based on defamation of her character than an actual cold-evidence case…

Then she learned how backup and mechanically it was run. Lawyers on the rise taking up to ten court appointed cases they were expected to hammer out in minutes or reassign six months down the line…

What stuck out was that the crime took place inside Oscorp, somewhere that didn't have to let her have access to investigate. The only thing she could do was find someone else because her knowledge was so woefully incomplete it was insane.

"I'm a barista-lawyer apprentice," Sandra muttered, eyes wide.

She turned to climb the stairs, but paused when a slow moving black car moved past her building's front entrance on the street, the tinted glass making the occupants impossible to see. It moved slowly, but the speed was menacing unto itself.

Norman Osborn did not hide behind glass or send this much effort.

It reminded Sandra that Oscorp was only one 'half' of the business.

They took contracts and sold to customers. Sandra wondered who exactly Oscorp was supposed to sell these products she was accused of stealing to?

She retreated upstairs and flipped through a phonebook, trying to produce an air of nonchalance as her kids stared at her.

Lawyers… she had to at least talk to someone.

' Devlin and Co.

Hammer and Smith

Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz

Matt Rocks, Esq.'

The price they listed outright for a consultation made Sandra's stomach turn in horror…

Her law knowledge leapt to a certain ad that promised an open ear before any price.

Nelson and Murdock.

"Kids, we're going on a trip," Sandra announced firmly.

2: The band: Legal Advice!

The street and state of the building didn't inspire the greatest of confidence in me, but since I was the one strapped for cash beyond my savings, I couldn't judge too harshly. The front of the building was water streaked, moss growing in the various cracks as fire escapes clung to the front like spindly spiders.

I ushered Emma and Nico inside, looking around. I was beginning to see black cars everywhere. It was more paranoia but I was beginning to get stressed at the idea I was being followed by some criminal element wanting their stolen projects back.

They could riddle me with bullets, but I would sooner rip their heads off before they harmed my kids.

The third floor had a small paper sign stuck to the wall next to a door.

' Nelson and Murdock' followed by a list of legal terms that promised me they were definitely legit. I knocked and the door opened to reveal a kind, if wary girl with flowing blond hair that still looked fresh from a shower.

"Hi, oh," she said seeing my kids.

"The babysitter lady is a floor down," she explained kindly, not out of malice or trying to get rid of me I think. People knocking with kids at their side was just that regular of an occurrence.

"Uh, no. I'm here for Nelson or Murdock? I need help," I said firmly, but earnestly. The expression on the woman's face changed instantly from relaxed to alert, but she didn't put up a poker face.

"Come on in! Want a… water?" she offered, having to bite back an offer of something else. She opened the door to what could generously be called an apartment with its walls knocked down and partitions set up to create two 'offices' on each side and a desk in the middle where the woman must sit if the pink towel still damp from drying her hair was any indication.

"Um, Matt- Mr Murdock is out, but Mr Nelson is free. I'll go let him know there is a client-potential," she said brightly, giving you all a wide smile. She was a reassuring woman and Nico mumbled something around his cup of water as Emma looked absolutely fascinated by the office.

Once the woman vanished through a door, Nico turned to me with a serious glance.

"Is it Jack?" he asked bluntly and the name made Emma scowl.

It never stopped being weird to hear the kids refer to their father in the first name but I didn't correct them. The man hardly deserved the honor of the title.

"Not him. He's still off floozying in Los Angeles as far as I know," I admitted.

"Good," Emma announced, leaning back and crossing her arms.

"I'm going to get my friends to cast a curse on him if he bothers you again," Nico said flatly, pushing a strand of his dark hair out his face. I nudged him with an amused smile.

"I thought they weren't a coven?" I teased, getting an eyeroll out of him, but at least he stopped clenching his fists. Nico had it worse than Emma, having clearer memories of Jack being a boozehound and a verbally abusive man.

When he dared to turn that shit on my kids, I snapped and the man fled for the hills. I was thankful he had never bothered us since.

"Come on in," the woman said, looking a little too pleased at something.

I told my kids to wait there. Not because I thought they were better off in the dark or something, but the office simply couldn't hold us all.

Mr Nelson was someone who could have been fresh out of college or going on 40 depending on how much sleep he had the night before. Lucky for me, he was about late twenties today. Roughly combed brown hair, a smooth face, and a rumpled shirt screamed slacker, but his ink stained hands and weirdly organized chaotic desk promised a worker.

"Hi. Pardon the mess. I'm Foggy Nelson," he stuck his hand out and closed the door behind me. I could hear the receptionist lady talking to my kids, getting a bright response from Emma so I relaxed into a folding chair.

"Sandra AeKure," I said back and saw him writing down 'Acre'.

"Aey-Cure," I supplied, writing it down for him. I wondered where my bloodline emerged from to get such a name, but didn't have time or care to pay for a proper family tree trace.

I explained my case as he took notes after he painfully admitted they did in fact offer a free consultation.

"So, Oscorp fired you due to all evidence pointing to you. Your login, your access card, your computer, but haven't turned up the projects or arrested you?" Nelson asked, frowning at the words he had jotted down.

My own legal knowledge jumped in, eager to show itself

"I think it's because they know I didn't actually do it, but since I gave a way in for people, they're making an example of me or something. More negalicence than the theft itself," I offered.

"I guess, but why push this hard?" Nelson asked, still feeling the same weirdness I felt about the whole thing.

"I feel like they're just painting a big target on my back and hoping to see who shoots me," I said, sounding a bit hopeless.

"Doesn't make much sense. Why would Oscorp lose their project, frame you, and not look for their stolen stuff?" Nelson pointed out and before I could answer, a deeper man's voice cut in from the door that I hadn't even heard open.

"Because Oscorp's not a singular entity. It's got moving parts and people playing power games. Someone stole a project from the inside, blamed the miss here, forcing the people looking for it to chase you down," a man wearing tinted red sunglasses and holding a long black cane said, standing almost in a military posture.

"Matt Murdock, the lesser name of the firm," he said politely as Nelson rolled his eyes.

"Well, that sounds fine, but why does Oscorp want to punish me instead of sweeping it under the rug?" I asked, not sure how I felt about this partner. Mr Nelson was open if disarming. Mr Murdock felt like spector, judging with eyes that could not be seen.

Then the spell was broken and he smiled.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle or stare. I have a habit of upsetting people without meaning to," he explained, tapping his cane and it just hit me that he was blind.

"Could be several reasons. Oscorp is hardly squeaky clean. If it turns out whatever this project ended up being far more valuable than they first estimated then they'd want to keep it and not work with the contract. Pretend it's stolen, blame you, make a big scandal, and let you take the hit for the theft," Matt said casually.

"Why would Normal Osborn-" I began and Nelson snorted before he apologised.

"Osborn likely doesn't even know or care. His business has so many snakes in it that he could turn on the news on the day of your trial and not have a clue. Only the big stuff gets Norman's personal touch," Nelson promised.

This was turning into a headache.

"I don't have much cash, some savings-" before I was cut off by the more ethereal Matt.

"Don't worry about it. The publicity pays for itself," he said and Nelson looked like Matt had just said they'd sell their kidneys for fun.

I stared as Matt and Foggy had a silent under the desk kicking match before Foggy winced and forced a smile.

"We would love to represent you pro-bono," he said as if he was chewing glass.

What nice boys. I'd have to bake them something or paint their cracked walls.

"Any evidence you can gather will help, but we'll do some snooping of our own," Matt promised and even Nelson softened when you smiled.

"Thank you," I said and truly meant it.

Returning home without further incident, I was relieved to see that there were no bloody messages on the wall or to find Norman Osborn in my closet waiting.

I roughly explained why I might need a lawyer, causing a sort of awkward silence to fall over the apartment. It was while I was doing dishes that I felt my chest light up with a new charge. The potential that let me reach into the multiverse and gain knowledge. It stunned me, even now that I had powers…

Sure, I wasn't flying or lifting trucks, but I was a killer barista…

Reflecting on Matt's words, it occurred to me I had no clue on how to get evidence. I tried to push a charge into 'directions to get evidence' or 'proof of innocence' but the power remained steadfast on its position. It would not delve into personal information or things not generally studied by people as a whole.

So, if I wanted to know what lived below me? I couldn't get that, but if I wanted to learn how to access public records of apartment renters or the study of floor plans and likely places they'd be kept for public access, I could do that.

I honestly didn't know how to gather information so I decided to just file the charge into Investigation to see if it could point me in the right direction. My mind seemed to unfurl like a flower, absorbing knowledge like a plant would sunlight.

I felt the basic and most key element of investigation. Unbiased facts and record keeping. I learned that the who and why would emerge from the where, when, and how more often than not.

The tips lined up to show how to curtail information from general junk. How to ask questions in a certain way that revealed more than people wanted to know… heck, I even learned that upsetting people was a great way to get information.

Being an investigator was not prone to having a happy social life.

It was a good start so I got out a spare notebook and pen and began to pen facts down, roughly when I was fired, who fired me personally, where I was the day before, and so on. It wasn't much of a start, but it was a start.

Before I even knew what was going on, time had passed quickly and before bed a third charge appeared just as I was brushing my teeth before bed. I powered into Investigation again and the star inside my mine that looked a little like a squiggly magnifying glass grew slightly more defined.

The skills developed faster, building on themselves. Soon, I have the overwhelming instructions on how to tail someone, how to access various locked drawers, check and crosscheck facts in a statement, and soon I was slowly seeing connections between things I had never quite noticed before.

I noticed Nico's brush was worn much further down than the near pristine brush of Emma meaning I had to talk to my little girl about dental hygiene. I noticed how the bathroom window ledge had a fresh sign of being opened all the way despite the fact I never opened it. I peered outside and found signs of someone sitting out here. I peered down and plucked a red thread that had snagged on the rusty metal.

The same feel from the blanket in Nico's room.

I didn't like the idea of Nico sitting on the old fire escape, but decided not to bring it up since it was some sort of private spot for him in the apartment which could feel small at times.

Heading to bed, I couldn't help but put a small strip of paper in the frame of my front door. My new knowledge said it was a cheap method of knowing if someone entered.

I fell asleep, hoping tomorrow would be just as calm as today.

My kids were still asleep as I picked up the piece of paper that had fallen to the floor. A tiny slither you'd have to know was there or had the lights on to see.

Could have I misplaced it? Messed up? Calming myself, I opened my front door and examined the keyhole, seeing a series of fresh scratch marks that were hard to see at first. I ran my finger over then and came away with metallic dust in the grooves.

"Chain on the door, get it installed today," I muttered as I turned to my home, trying to appear calm as I moved through the apartment as if I was thinking of what to do or cook for breakfast. I was looking for something that was different or changed since last night. My investigation knowledge had sharpened my memory just a tad so I found myself comparing the position of the kitchen chairs, the cupboard doors, the books on a shelf…

But I couldn't find anything.

I had a new charge and wondered if I should save it for the moment and call Nelson and Murdock's to share what happened or use it now…

I called them and got that nice lady, Karen. I told her what happened and she got Matt on the phone.

" Last night? That's not good. If they saw you talking to a lawyer, whoever is after the missing project could be stepping up their schedule in panic," he said, a frown to his tone like dark chocolate.

"What should I do?" I asked, thinking as the charge grew warm in my chest.

" You have no one you can stay with?" Matt asked as politely as he could. My heart clenched.

"All I have are my kids. I'm a single Mom who couldn't afford a social life let alone get the time," I admitted with a sigh.

" Nothing for it. If you need to stay there, get a chain installed and before you go to sleep, put a stack of glasses near your front door and a plate on any window with a fire escape. Just make it hard for someone to get in until you call the police," Matt explained.

To be honest, I could see ways to string up used cans on some string, the idea popping in my head so clearly it was startling. Alarms were covered under Investigation to a degree. Thanking Matt, I hung up, perpetuated by the sudden 'invention'.

My charge sat in my chest, waiting. I poured it into something that was designed to protect me and my family.

Spycraft.

This hit me with a sprinkling of a lot of topics. I got a basic understanding of coding my letters, using a simple 1 or -1 on the alphabet or slightly more complex ones. I learned about how to conceal things in a drop point, how to eavesdrop or plant devices in certain locations like next or inside a telephone.

It bled into Investigation, letting me up my anti-tail game and being able to throw chasers off my scent if I needed to. It also let me see how easily it was to utterly hide a small microphone or camera in plain sight. I learned how to use the more aggressive side of interrogation, but also the sweeter side.

It was just a drop in each subject, but it promised me that for every field I knew, someone was a master and would kick my ass in it.

I checked my phone, finding nothing that would hint at a bug or messing of the wires. I quickly searched other places I had looked over because I simply didn't think about it. Inside light shades, near couch legs, the underside of a coffee table.

"Spring cleaning?" Nico asked as he walked in with a shirt and shorts, heading towards the refrigerator.

"Cleaning," I agreed.

It wasn't sure if I was happy or not that my place seemed bug-free. Happy because I wasn't bugged, but annoyed I might have wasted the charge or I wasn't charged enough to spot the bugs.

"Mom, I'm heading out to hang out with Gwen, there's this awesome coffee shop she wants to check out," Nico said after devouring far too much toast to be normal.

"If they use the Roaster 3k and not the Blender 5j,it's a sham and you shouldn't get coffee there," I said without thinking. Nico raised a brow at me.

"Mom, coffee is coffee," Nico said gently. I felt my mouth drop open and gathered myself to lecture him on the importance of soil acidity, treatment, and proper roasting time, but he fled before I could get started.

I turned to quiet Emma who was watching me.

"You're too young for coffee," I said after a moment. Emma nodded sagely.

"Milkshakes are where it's at," she agreed. I was about to hum when my knowledge kicked in.

Investigator Sandra: Nico just went for coffee, right?

Spy Sandra: Yup, but didn't ask for cash to buy himself one.

Barista Sandra: Coffee… is… complex….NiCo

Investigator Sandra: So, how is our unemployed teenager affording coffee without tips?

Spy Sandra: Could be mooching off people, manipulating them…

Lawyer Sandra: Manipulation by the court of law carries a lesser sentence so its not a bad choice.

Spy Sandra:… Or he's not getting coffee and doing something that is free!

I would have to turn to my inside source and figure out his plans.

"Emma, sweetie, what is Nico doing today?" I asked. My little girl looked up with shrewd eyes.

"My silence was purchased with an Avenger's sticker pack," she said seriously. I mentally grimaced. That's why I found the Hulk on the toilet and Iron Man stuck to my toaster.

My council of Sandra's turned to lawyer Sandra who was a beginner on making plea bargains, but it should be enough.

"Milkshakes today and you can stay up an extra hour," I countered. Emma sipped her orange juice.

"Throw in a Mac and Cheese for dinner and you got yourself a deal, lady," she grinned. Damn, the corruption ran deep in our society. I shook her hand and sealed the deal.

"Nico is going to the weekend music club with Gwen cause he's practising the keyboard in their band. I think the lead singer is Marion or Janey. He wanted it quiet cause he knows we can't afford a keyboard at home and didn't want to bug you. The band is called the Mary Janes," Emma reported with a succinct tone that made my Spy Sandra whistle, impressed.

I still needed a job and you know, there were a lot of coffee shops around the highschool music club's rough… vicinity.

"Emma, I'm going to get some work done then you can have a milkshake while we're out," I promised. Emma nodded kindly.

"If money is tight, we can just have water in the park. As long as we're together, it's fun," she said, clearly awkward about talking about cash with her Mom.

"In New York? Clean water in a bottle costs way more than a milkshake," I teased, warm inside at my daughter's empathy. She would be a stellar human being no matter what. The cash I expected to pay on legal fees were suddenly mine again due to Matt and Foggy's kindness, so why not splurge a little on Emma?

I forgot how cheap people were paid for back-breaking work in the customer service sector. The wage wasn't great, but the coffee shop was close by and after I poured out a decent coffee and even shaped the milk into a heart, I got the job.

I was mostly worried by their giant beast of a coffee maker. It was a product of its time and I desperately wanted to open it up and clean out what had to be curdled milk skin and lost coffee beans in the innards.

Amazingly and accidentally as far as anyone could prove, Emma and I ran into Nico with his friends exiting their highschool as the day got on.

Small world!

"M-Mom," Nico stammered and at the lack of surprise on my face, he looked at Emma with a narrowed expression.

"You sold me out?" he asked, sounding resigned.

"I love you, but your worth came to about an extra hour staying up, milkshakes, mac and cheese," Emma declared. I looked over Nico to see a gaggle of gangly teens.

The first was Gwen Stacy. I knew her roughly from Nico's talk and seeing her around when Nico went out. A cheerful blond girl whose jeans had gone past shredded and were heading into the tatter's division. My urge to give her my coat was strong because she was wearing a sleeveless shirt as well.

The next girl was unknown to me, a redhead with striking green eyes. She wore a more sensible sweater and jeans, but she looked to be amused and interested at the ongoings between Nico and I as if she loved a good scene or story. The last girl was something completing the hair colors. A brunette with a neck length hair and bemused grin. She was the only one wearing a skirt.

Behind them, someone was carrying a bunch of boxes filled with wires and odds with ends. He looked up at the sudden stop of his friends, round frames bouncing on his face.

"Nico, introduce me," I urged, smiling at his clear annoyance. Ah, to be a parent.

"Gwen, MJ, Betty, Peter," Nico rushed out and tried to step around me.

I would not be denied my parental glee so easily.

"Good timing, we're going for milkshakes, want to join?" I offered and Gwen stepped forward.

"I would love to. I accept on the behalf of the Mary Janes," she announced.

"Love to, but can't. Sorry Miss AeKure. I got an apprenticeship at the Daily Bugle to get to. I'm hoping to hook up there after school so I can't go spare on them," Betty said firmly, and she gave my hand a shake.

"Selling out to the man," Gwen pretending to hiss and give Betty a cross sign. Betty gave her a sign back that made me bite my tongue from snorting.

"Good luck, Betty. I'm rooting for you," MJ called, smiling at her friend before she shrugged at us.

"I burned enough calories singing my lungs out that I can have two milkshakes for the rest of the week and still ache," she agreed good naturedly. Emma looked a little in awe of MJ's fiery hair. I turned to the poor scrawny looking lad that was hunched as if he was ready to crouch at the first sign of danger from me.

He was so… twitchy. He could be the tallest of them or sinewy, but he hid himself away so well that it was my new knowledge to see past the 'don't stare' vibes he threw out. He moved as if his left leg hurt, but his eyes seemed honest enough.

"Pete?" Nico asked nonchalantly, obviously giving into this hell that was milkshakes. He twisted around, holding the boxes to a degree I was sure he had some flexibility training at least.

Was he bullied for doing gymnastics or ballet? That was a shame.

Maybe he was a dancer? Lycra could be a highschool nightmare maker.

"I got all this junk to put away and…" he tried to say so I took one and nearly dropped it due to the weight of power packs and pieces of music. He was carrying two of these? Were his hips made of diamond?

"Come on. Don't put this old lady down and say no to milkshakes," I declared and the young man looked at Nico who merely shrugged in defeat.

I felt my charge pop into existence as we headed down the street.

"-so, Nico cast the curse of Hades' hornets on Flash and was real dramatic about it. Flash got creeped out and that's how Nico and Peter met," Gwen explained, giving a running commentary as she sipped her shake and eating the fries she purchased.

None of the kids would let me buy for them bar Nico and Emma.

"Flash got stung like the next week, so it worked eventually," Nico grunted.

"I'm still waiting for it to rain gold," MJ smirked and Nico threw his hands up in defeat.

"I threw gold glitter on you at practise, I fulfilled that myself," he protested. These were interesting kids.

"Nico is known as the creepy witch hippy kid by the preps," Gwen told me and then smirked.

"So, naturally I had to befriend him and drag MJ along. Peter was a happy happenstance. Nico is like a jerk repellant," Gwen explained.

"So why doesn't he repel himself?" Emma glared as Nico stole some of her fries.

"Nico's a nice guy," Peter tried to be diplomatic at Emma before he smiled slightly.

"I once got a cold after a bad night and during lunch, he snuck a bushel of rosemary and sage into my locker to help me," he said and Nico pointed a straw at him.

"You have more bumps and scrapes on you than anyone I know," Nico said and I was just watching this unfold as Gwen leaned in.

"Pete's a pro-wrestler in the dead of night. Or maybe he's a test subject at the Fantastic 4 building or maybe he delivers pizza and sucks at driving?" she offered.

"I just fall down a lot and hit walls," Peter muttered as he did homework in a notebook.

"So, when's the first concert?" I finally dropped in before they could tease Peter more. I was pretty sure Peter didn't mind the light teasing and felt safe here, but better not risk it.

"Whenever we can convince MJ to stop having a catfight with Felica so we can have our singers," Gwen stated calmly, making MJ choke on a fry before she coughed it out.

Peter looked up at the name and flushed around his neck.

"It's not a catfight. I just don't agree with how she acts around people at times. She teases in the worst way and is so flippant. It's hard to see her caring about the band," MJ said, wiping her mouth a napkin.

This was juicy and the most exciting gossip I heard since I had Nico.

I once again recalled I had no friends and I might over relate to my kids in ways they might find oppressive. I had to work on that.

Maybe I'd ask Foggy out for a drink or Matt. I could listen to Matt talk about the weather for an hour. His voice was chocolate. If my life wasn't in danger, I'd be tempted to put a point into seduction which weirdly worked with Spycraft in the honeypot manner. I looked out the window and my heart leapt to my throat as I saw that black car idling on the corner, visible from the diner window. I mentally recalled the license plate, but I saw Peter casually look over too, curious. I looked down and excused myself to pay the bill, trying to collect myself. I was surprised when Peter appeared at my side, frowning.

"You looked scared, are you okay?" he asked, his voice a different one from his usual candor. He had a more… reliable 'talk to me' tone that made him seem more mature. I was surprised at his awareness, but played it off as kids who got bullies were more receptive to stress or anger than most.

"Just legal things. Thank you for being Nico's friend. He could really use the distraction outside our home," I managed to say. Not quite saying nothing was wrong but not giving out details. I didn't want to blab in case it caused trouble for Matt and Foggy's legal defence.

"It's more a gift to me than to Nico, but don't worry about it. I need to run," Peter said quickly and ran past, giving everyone at the table a quick thing he forgot at the music club. Gwen looked amused and MJ smiled.

"Want company?" Nico stood, but Peter just grinned.

"You can't ditch your Mom to hang with me. It's rude," he said and went out the front door.

"Peter's brain, quite big, but often decides attention and memory is something that he can live without," Gwen said and I picked up that despite MJ's smile, she was worried about Peter for some reason.

Nico just looked dejected as if he desperately wanted his only male friend to stick around.

Peter was a nice boy, so I got the appeal when MJ and Gwen dived into the subject of stage presence and costumes and Nico just kept responding with 'more black and glitter'.

I let them talk amongst themselves as Emma joined in eager to be included with the older girls who easily let her in.

"Unicorns are rad, like horses with glued-on swords," Gwen agreed with Emma on the idea of a unicorn song.

I decided to spend my charge on something as I didn't know if they stacked or I could only have one. I decided that I oddly could risk moving out of town or having a second job, but I remembered the most common job applicable without too much hassle was cook or chef and if Emma or Nico needed an operation or some school trip paid for… I couldn't risk delving into a spy game of people that I couldn't track nor actually do something about it.

I had to trust in Matt and Foggy and work from there.

I put one into cooking.

Instantly I learned the art of frying in a pinch. The ability to maintain knives that I was sure I couldn't afford along with the art of multi-managing different dishes and pots in a rush environment. The way one heat could sear and another could burn.

Quite a few meals worked well with coffee such as hot sandwiches, toasties, and breakfast meals. I oddly felt like I could cook a killer breakfast meal. If I was put in a kitchen I could do the bare minimum with good quality.

The sun set and I didn't see that car on the way home.

"Mom look!" Emma said excitedly as she pointed up, a blur of a red and blue moving through the air on ropes.

Spider-Man. An oddly reassuring figure. If you got kidnapped or threatened, he'd surely help.

"I don't think he usually patrols this way," Nico said in a way that made him come off as either worried or suspicious. I pulled my kids in for a hug.

"What a good day. Come on. I promised the best Mac and Cheese you guys have ever tasted," I encouraged and walked on.

On a nearby roof of the building where the AeKures eat a meal, a figure landed in a crouched form.

"I could hear you coming a mile off," said a figure from the shadows. Peter turned in a panic, but let out a heavy sigh.

"Daredevil, you scared the crap out of me," he said defensively as the dark red form of the Hell's Kitchen Devil appeared. Peter watched as Daredevil looked down.

"You here about that family?" he asked, nodding in the rough direction of where Peter could see Nico's Mom dishing out a big serving of delicious cheese and pasta. His mouth watered. Sandra AeKure was a nice lady and Peter didn't like the way she had been trailed by creeps all the way home. He convinced them that their car was broken… web to the tires would do that.

As for who they were…

"Yeah. Osborn is screwing around again," Peter said, scowling. He did not like Harry's Dad and on bad days, he didn't much like Harry at times. The guy had been getting moody and dark recently.

"Oh, it's worse than Osborn. The buyer was a front for a company who had ties to the Kingpin. The stolen project was repurposed old tech from Stark. Didn't learn more than that," Daredevil explained gruffly.

Stark, Kingpin, and Osborn. Peter winced.

"Have you told Tony his tech is causing trouble?" Peter asked, leaving out the obvious ' again'. Tony was a great guy who funded a lot of help around the world as well as advancing tech to amazing levels, but his habit of having warehouses of 'redundant tech' being broken into was silly.

What was redundant for him was goldmines for anyone else with a passing knowledge in engineering.

"I don't have Stark on speed dial. Do you?" Daredevil asked and Peter didn't either, but he could swing by the Stark Tower easy enough…

"So what's going to happen to them? What's the deal?" Peter pressed the Devil for details.

"Osborn or someone in his work liked what they made too much to give it up when the deadline came and made it vanish. Now neither side can prove who stole it and Oscorp threw her under the bus. I expect Kingpin will have her hit and the mess will be scrapped as a 'acceptable loss'," Daredevil said darkly.

"Yeah, not happening. You dig around for clues or scare someone into talking," Peter said and turned, readying his wrist when Daredevil spoke up.

"And where are you going?" he asked flatly.

"Oh, I know for a fact that Osborn's computer is going to be turned on and that a vent on the northside of his building will be accessible. I've used it before when busting Norman on things he shouldn't be doing. If any luck, he's in his 'I'm definitely not the Green Goblin' mood this month and the glider is collecting dust," Peter said firmly.

"Any evidence stolen from his office is inadmissible in court," Daredevil seemed compelled to throw in. Peter shrugged.

"If I find the stolen tech and accidently smash it in public then the Kingpin knows it was Spider-Man who messed with him and what's he going to do? Increase my bounty from 10 million to 10.1?" he asked sarcastically.

The fellowed masked man whistled.

"I should hand you in myself. That's a pretty penny," he said and Peter wondered if he could hear how Peter's heart stuttered slightly. Daredevil was a good fighter…

"Whelp, gotta go! Businessmen to ruin and stuff!" Peter said quickly and fled. He swung around the building before landing on the fire escape a moment later as Nico stuck his head out with a bowl.

"Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie," Peter almost begged. The melted cheese was still warm and it had been cooked to perfection. The cheese was herbed and melted into the pasta well enough that strings and steam rose when Peter took the offered fork. It tanged on his tongue of heat and cheese, and well cooked pasta covered in herbs. It made his stomach warm.

"My Mom did something different. I can't believe I'm sharing," Nico grumped, but Peter could only hear the sounds of happy Spidey stomach noises.

Life was good.

3: New Job: Escape Room!

Last night's cooking was excellent. It was like things I had never noticed before seemingly merged with the basics I had mastered of the 16 years of cooking for kids. It wasn't like what I knew was gone, but there were so many habits, shortcuts, methods, and more that I simply never did master or had the time to try.

It was eerily but I was also happy to know that what I learned only made the result stronger than simply being overwritten. I was never going to smoothly descale a fish or reinvent soup, but I could do the basics well enough.

I mean, I couldn't do those now, but that could change with more charges. I sat up in my bed, bleary eyed and wondering why I set my alarm so early until I remember my new boss, Mr Geoff, wanted me in for a trial run to make sure I could do more than pour coffee.

"Is this what 6AM looks like? It's been years," I yawned, grumbling to myself. I knew the customer service industry started early compared to the more paid 9-5 work office people, but this felt a bit much.

Brushing my teeth before the sun was even up, I felt the growing familiar feeling of a charge in my chest. It was perky and ready for the day. Stupid happy power.

I idly thought what to do with my charge as I left a note for Nico and Emma, reminding them where I went in case they panicked. Or were mildly concerned.

They were in that age where panic only happened around crushes or exams.

I decided that I was going into a job about coffee so filling another charge there couldn't hurt my chances. I was bound to get another charge by the afternoon if the pattern of the last day held.

The star of a steaming mug glowed slightly bright as it absorbed the charge.

The world of coffee was opening itself to me slowly. I knew the best climates to grow the optimal amount of certain coffees. The exact tools I would need to make the perfect mocha over say a steam press or a foamer. I had the whisperings of certain coffee blends that weren't usually in the public's eyes, like a certain coffee-strain that was found between the borders of Niger, Nigeria, and Burunda. Something about where those countries met, the soil became increasingly bizarre and wonderful for coffee growth.

The knowledge promised that soils leading closer to Ethiopia in connection to those countries or somewhere between was very promising for soil, but I pushed that out of my mind. I'd have never left New York, so going on a trip to Africa was just not happening on my current budget.

Mr Geoff was a surly man who didn't seem to grunt out of malice. I think life was just hard for him and he had decided to treat each day like a waiting shitstorm instead of a joy. I could understand that. New York tended to foster a sense of either annoying cheer or surliness verging on grit.

"Rule 1, the customer is your focus. Rule 2, if the customer is an asshole, ignore rule 1 and the shop becomes your focus. We don't have time to have a screaming match because someone didn't get enough vanilla pump in their soy latte," Mr Geoff said surly. I don't think this shop had the ingredient 'vanilla' inside its walls since it opened.

The Brewer was a side-joint that had years of grime and history to it. It was a known place and it never made too much or too little cash from what I saw. It made coffee, it cooked cheese toast, and it had dusty boxes of tea for the odd-ends.

"My Grandpops opened this place just before WW2 ended. It's been around since, so expect a lot of weird looks. Our old girl, Jessie, has been here for ten years so they'll be a lot of 'my usual' without looking at you first. Just tell them you're new and don't apologise," Mr Geoff warned as if me apologising was throwing myself to the wolves.

With that, he went to the side and started grilling cheese and restocking milk and coffee blends where it was needed. Mr Geoff was the type to do things himself, but he also didn't like people as whole, hence why I was here. There was another barista guy but he didn't seem sociable just yet.

The first customer came in and I felt weird about my lack of uniform. The Brewer didn't have a uniform. If you were on one side of the counter, you were a worker, the other? A customer.

Only Mr Geoff's wandering glare kept the right people on the right side.

"My usual, but add in extra ice," a guy said, not looking up from his paper as he approached the counter.

"I'm new," I said briskly, but not rudely. The man lifted his eyes, seeing I was new with a frown actually had to think for a moment about what his order was.

I was a coffee expert. I knew coffee. I could debate flavours, tones, aftertaste, moods, and more.

I was a coffee guru.

It was then I learned the very harsh lesson I could be the Coffee Goddess, but mortals would take my art, open it wide, and wear it as a hat.

I felt Barista Sandra give a massive pterodactyl screech as the man ordered a hot black coffee with three sugars, milk foam and three ice cubes plunked in it then another sugar.

I made the coffee then murdered it for $3.

My next order was if I could 'make a nice coffee with that foam, but all the way into the coffee so it was coffee but foamy.

I now knew why people became supervillains.

"You did alright. If you stayed in the storeroom to scream into the coffee grind bags any longer, I would have docked a couple of dollars off your paycheck, but you made it back in time," Mr Geoff said when my shift ended.

It honestly wasn't that bad. Most people just wanted a decent cup to make them buzz or to feed and addiction. A lot of black coffee with sugar. It was just the occasional 'weirdness' that happened.

I was beginning to hate ice cubes and all they stood for.

I left with the promise of more work and a paycheck that would pay the bills at the end of the day really. I'd have to cut out my sinful ice-cream binges, the occasional book spree, and maybe have just normal haircuts instead of washed and massaged, but I was a big girl.

It meant the kids could have what they wanted and still be fine.

I left the coffee shop and was walking home, high off my success when it happened. I was just turning the corner when I felt someone brush up against me. I turned to see an unfriendly guy and as I backed away, a car drove along the curb, side door opening.

I felt the tug as the large man covered the scene from any potential onlookers. The guy had been in the coffee shop, drinking coffee, but I assumed he was just surly. I found myself in the backseat with a polite man pointing a rather petit looking pistol at me.

He had that sort of groomed smooth looked that spoke of good maintenance and care. I felt Detective and Spy Sandra raise their hackles, picking the scene apart the best they could from the abruptness of it all.

The large guy sat at my side, pushing me into the car side more than taking up space. The car itself was immaculate from the inside, recently cleaned. The doors were thick and there was no way to open the locks except from the driver's panel. The man pointing the gun at me sat in the passenger seat.

The gun was a scare tactic, honestly, the safety was still on.

3 men, one big enough to be a boxer, against me?

"Just sit tight, Miss Acre. We'll have a little chat then you're free to go," the groomed gunman promised in every sense of false sincerity. The way his lips quirked or perhaps the way the driver gripped the steering wheel was revealing.

"It's AeKure. You can stop pointing your gun at me. I think I get the point," I said with every inch of acidity I could manage for the moment. When I got scared, I got mad, which was just how I always was.

Groomed didn't like the response, but twisting in a seat to point a gun wasn't exactly the most comfortable of things. If he wanted to be a dick, he should have gotten a limo.

I didn't ask questions and slowly the men let their guard down. For what I couldn't say. Unless I developed the power to conjure boiling coffee to throw at them or freak them out by telling them the way their car could be bugged or how Groomed was using really good hair dye to hide his greying temples?

I was out of options but to wait for them to act.

It was while we were driving to the many seaside docks of New York that a charge flickered in, a few hours before I thought it would. They escorted me into a warehouse and into a tiny room that had an even smaller window. They left me there unbound and locked the door. The room was absolutely bare of anything. Even the lightbulb had been cut off at the ceiling so only the barest of copper wires stuck out.

Spy and Detective along with Lawyer Sandra all agreed this was a sweat tactic. Make me go crazy with fear until they got back and I would sing. I wasn't content to sit here and my Spy knowledge came into full front. It had smatters and tidbits of escape from holdings.

Knowing how to get out of something was a spy's secondary job after getting in. I tested the walls and found to me delight, that the warehouse used partition walls instead of solid concrete for these smaller rooms.

I was essentially kept in a cardboard thin room rather than a cell.

I could risk edging out a hole with my foot and hope there was cover on the other side.

My other chance was to sit tight and hope they'd let me go afterwards. I decided that I couldn't count on a fair discussion with people who couldn't sit me down and ask questions before resorting to kidnapping.

It showed a rather discerning lack of sense.

I pushed my charge into Spycraft, the star of a cloak and dagger. The fact I did made this all the easier choice.

I learned the subtle art of disguises, the ability to adapt lies on the fly, along with a few more skills. The ability to resist torture to a degree was now something I had which was horrifying. I did also learn about the one thing I needed.

Confidence. A plan couldn't work if I hesitated even for a second. A spy had to fully trust themselves or the whole thing came down like a house of cards. A lot of skills would need years of training to ever be fully useful, but the mental side of it all was mine for the taking and with sheer mental effort, I could force things on my body like a quieter walk or a subtler presence.

I reached down and braced my foot against the corner of the wall and pushed. They had my handbag so I hoped I could pop their trunk and get that back before I left. After a few moments, the plaster wall began to crack, the damage spreading like spider-cracks. Then my foot slowly pushed out into a dark room. It was another side room, but it had things in it.

I desperately got to work, opening the hole until I could squeeze through. I shifted over what seemed like old crates of materials that had gathered dust. Old rusty sheets of metal, piping, heat insulator and large aluminium vent tubing. It had to be some sort of construction resource depot. I blocked my hole with a crate to slow down a chaser and kept going, pausing to choose if I wanted to pick up a trowel or a hammer before I left.

Lawyer Sandra said aggravated assault with a weapon was easily mitigated with self-defence.

She was so useful.

I lacked the strength to be that great with a hammer, but you didn't need much to swing a thing trowel around. I took it and moved on, peering out the door to the larger storage space beyond. Unlike my last room which had crates or something block sound, I heard my kidnappers clearly from the gap.

"-sley said keep the broad in for now. She needs to talk before Oscorp gets her put in jail and she has an 'accident'. What is this even about, Dawdson?" the larger man complained to the groomed gunman who was sitting watching a game on a small TV, relaxing as best he could with his suit jacket off.

"We don't get paid to know," Dawdson said gruffly before he reclined, some bravado coming into his tone.

"But I know. If you wanna hear, you gotta do the next food run," he bargained and the large boxer man groaned but agreed after a moment.

"Alright, this is a weird one. You know the big guy is into things right? He has connections and he has real weirdo's working for him at times. Not just the pyjama freaks that follow the Spider about," Dawdson said, delighted at holding the stage over the other two men.

"I saw that old Asian lady talking to him once. She gave me the creeps," the Driver muttered. Dawdson looked around uneasily.

"Yeah, like her," he agreed.

"So, recently in L.A," Dawdson began and the name of the city made me curl my lips in disgust. Anything involving my ex husband Jack, be it location or memories, made me feel annoyed.

"Some really old guy. Like some people swear he was alive in 1900 old, died off. His mansion is under weird protection laws and stuff was being handed out. But the big guy wanted something off him. So, he paid a lot of cash, bribed, and eventually got 'that thing'. He made a deal with Norman Osborn to develop more of it then it vanished. Like one day everything is going swimmingly, next thing? Norman looks like an ass and the big guy is wanting his due," Dawdson explained, clearly missing on details.

"Thing? And it's 2015. You trying to tell me a guy lived until he was 115?" the boxer snorted.

"No idiot, the guy was a grown man in the 1900's. He's closer to 150 or something when he died," Dawdson said grumpy. This was quite interesting, but it didn't quite gel with why I was-

"Anyway, the guy who delivered the crate to Oscorp vanished and the trash in the lab was a fake or it wasn't checked. So, the big guy wants to find him and see if he has his 'item'. Jack… Jack Star or something?" the gunman shrugged.

My heart sunk.

That son of a bitch.

That's why I was fired? That's why I was being kidnapped and tormented?

Because my Ex-husband was still using me to fix his mess? I was going to scream, but I couldn't… I had to get out. Then scream.

I moved along the side of the warehouse, keeping to my stomach in a sort of shuffle to use available cover. There weren't many ways out, but these old buildings had hatches and side doors for days when smoking was considered healthy.

What kind of 'thing' could be worth all this trouble? Captain America baseball cards? Spider-Man's web? Tony Stark's humility?

Whatever it was, I was going to find it and ram up the closest orifice of Jack's.

I found a side door, deciding to use my trowel to scrape off some of the before risking opening. The door was still stupidly stuck, but it only creaked a little. I just needed to time it right when.

"Score!" Dawdson cried at the TV loudly.

I was out.

I ran to their car, knowing I could hopefully hotwire the car. I was not totally confident as my Spycraft was designed on myself more than tools like cars. As my heart hammered, I managed to figure out the car was a new model of the electric type . They had tied the security system of the car to the battery which made it a simple deal to slide under the car and move just a few things about until I heard a very soft warble and the alarm died before it could even get started.

Sabotage was another tool in the Spycraft's toolkit it seemed.

Something jumped out at me as I slid inside the unlocked driver's seat. As things become more advanced, they become more vulnerable. A car of grinding gears and moving parts couldn't be 'hacked' back in the day.

The more advanced cars got, the more open they became to attacks like this.

I broke into the side of the steering wheel using my trowel and began to pull wires out. It was a jumbled mess, but if I treat it like I was making a bomb, my Spycraft sort of worked a little in pointing out what did what.

That was the horn cable. It made the car go beep! I moved on, but the front of the warehouse exploded open as the three men rushed out, guns pointed, looking panicked.

And this wire did something and this wire went vroom!

The car lurched into life and I hit the pedal as the tires screeched. Boxer leapt at me, but he bounced off the hood of the car with a grunt and I hightailed it out of there, something loud barking and my rear window exploded in a shower of glass. I raced off down the street, turning a few times before I got my stuff and ditched the black car in a parking lot. I had to call the cops and Matt. I needed help!

Lawyer Sandra agreed that reporting the crime was a good idea, but maybe calling Matt first would be better.

When I went to hide in a nearby diner to use their phone, the lady in the apron looked shocked at my appearance, but she led me to the back office where I could make the calls. I was so damn tired and cheek stung now.

But I survived!

And weirdly, in a short time… I got a charge before Matt or the Cops even showed up. Three in one day seemed good, and I might even get another one before the day was up!

"Officer, if you don't have any questions to ask that don't pertain to my client's well-being or about her kidnappers, I suggest you stop harassing her about why she thinks she got kidnapped. We discussed the possibility of her kidnapping related to her firing at Oscorp. Anything more is irrelevant unless you want to get an Oscorp Lawyer in here to explain why she was fired?" Matt said casually.

I had been here 30 minutes, thankfully with Foggy negotiation with the front desk and Matt in here with me. My cheek had a big bandage on it. I had been grazed by a bullet. I had come this close to death and hadn't even noticed.

I was in a weird state of detachment as things happened around me.

"I'm just saying, Mr Murdock, that if your client has any reason why she would be targeted by gunmen and held, I would like to know it. If she has a reason to be targeted, explaining why or perhaps showing us, we can better help her case," the police officer said and I didn't like him.

Spy Sandra didn't like him.

Lawyer Sandra didn't like him.

His coffee looked like processed shit so Barista Sandra didn't like him.

But it was detective Sandra that bristled the hardest. It was clear they were spinning something or wanting me to look bad because it was easier to arrest or bother the wounded single mother than tangle with New York's armed forces that could be mafia, terrorists, agents or anything.

They knew something about all this and they wanted me to crack just like the gunmen did.

"Which we again tell you can't be produced because my client has done nothing wrong. Now, are you going to charge her in self-defence, escaping in a car that was already reported stolen, or breaking out a warehouse she was forced into? Any charge I can have thrown out," Matt said calmly. The man smiled tightly.

"Thank you for your time. We'll keep you updated on any developments," he said before leaving the room. Matt advised me to turn down any drink offers and keep my hair inside my top as best I could. He opened the doors to prevent me touching anything. There was nothing that could be done about the fingerprints in the car, but Matt said that while fingerprints could be recreated, it was easy to see copies lifted from another scene. It was fresh prints that weren't in the system that could get me.

The same for DNA. I was just lucky I bled on my shirt and not in the car.

When we left the station and Foggy was driving us back to my place. Their amazing assistant, Karen, was there now with Emma and Nico, doing her best to cook and keep them safe.

"I've seen Karen knock back a biker for making fun of Matt, your kids couldn't be safer," Foggy smiled at me in the rearview mirror.

"Now that you're safe. You want to tell us what you didn't tell the cops?" Matt asked from my side. I pondered telling him about Jack and what Dawdson had said…

They had my back so far so I decided to take a leap and trust them. I couldn't do this on my own. The car rumbled along and the rugged scent of Foggy's cologne was woody and soothing. I didn't smell anything off Matt, he seemed to like to keep his remaining senses clear of cloying scents.

When I was done, Matt frowned before he seemed to take a moment to say something.

"Old man dying in L.A? That had to be Halloway. His passing was a big thing in the media and lawyer circuit. He had a lot of business to square away all over the country," Matt said. Foggy nodded as he tapped the steering wheel at a red light.

"Thomas Halloway. No Lawyer earning under a Mill a year got close to his estate and even then it was dull work. You had to be top notch to get into his goodies," Foggy agreed.

Foggy grinned at me, his voice going spooky.

"Urban myths say old Halloway used to be a crime fighter in the early years. Like 1900 and such. I only know him because I was a huge fan of the Two-Gun Kid growing up and rumors say Halloway still has his pistols of good and evil in his collection," Foggy said before brightening.

"I should check Ebay! See if they're listed," he added.

"You were a cowboy growing up?" I asked, amused, seeing it. Foggy would look cute with a cowboy hat.

"I tried to be, Ma'am, but this old boy fell into the wrong side of the law," Foggy drawled and flicked his lawyer suitcase.

"Right into the job," he joked.

"I objected to the assless chaps he insisted on. It sent the wrong image of our firm," Matt added and Foggy shot him a glare. I merely relaxed as Matt and Foggy talked about tracking down my Ex. If he had this item, and since Halloway collected some really old special stuff, Jack could by flying, riding a horse, or invisible for all I knew.

I still had a charge to spend and I might as well do it before I got home.

I decided that my biggest threat was people's reasoning and logic around me. Why did Oscorp fire me? Why did kidnapping me make more sense from higher up than talking? Why did anyone do what they did?

I put a charge into psychology.

It was a spread out sort of answer I got in the form of knowledge. The art was basically understanding a hierarchy of needs in which it was related to the average person. It pointed out that those with control or authority would prioritize the herd over the individual unconsciously.

We existed to fill needs of food, offspring, company, and success. That was the lizard brain, but our more developed selves also thought of others that weren't directly 'personal' relationships, Kindness, empathy, morals and more all influenced how far someone would go.

It was a massive influx that touched different areas lightly and there were a lot of influences.

Spy Sandra synergizes well with the ability to seek out needs and exploit them in people. Detective Sandra did well in sensing why someone might lie or putting themselves in way to protect someone. Lawyer Sandra got why some truths were better not shared over some omissions that could be.

Barista Sandra knew that a familiar cup of coffee in your routine was a stabilizer for the rest of the day.

Therapist Sandra, newly minted, appeared with poise and said that we were dealing with rich megalomaniacs whose morals were confined to themselves and a select few people, if any. Those in charge saw me as a box to be ticked or erased.

I couldn't count on their mercy until we personally communicated and got a sense of each other.

Underlings with a paycheck definitely could not be trusted. Their loyalty was to the 'big guy' since disloyalty meant they got the axe instead of me.

I was a thorn, but that wasn't personal. A traitor was personal and the men knew it. Then Therapist said that giving my knowledge fonts humanizing qualities and speaking about them as they could speak back and respond was an unhealthy coping mechanism and could lead to issues down the line, but I decided she needed more chargers and shoved her off to the side to be stuck with Barista Sandra.

Soon, I was finally home.

"Wow," Karen said as I pulled out all the stops in cooking a meal for my lawyer team. Nico watched closely and Emma was glued to my leg, but I cooked a lasagne so nice, the mince bubbled with juices and salt as the layers of cheese between oozed slowly, showing heat, but not too watery that it dribbled. Each slice I passed out was cooked to perfection, every layer and inch looking delicious.

"You're good with cheese and pasta," Matt commented and I gave him an odd look which made him quickly add, "I smelled a lovely cheese when I walked in. Something you made the night before I guess," he explained, tapping his nose.

"Better nose than most. My hearing is even better," he grinned and it was a nice smile.

I needed to shower before every meeting with Matt, just to be safe. I was going to obtain the scent of old coffee in the coming days, I could just sense it.

The meal was lovely and I had to explain to Emma and Nico how their Mom was a badass, but likely needed them to join me at work so no one took them…

Or worse, having Jack 'fly' by to impress the kids he remembered he had.

Foggy offered to sleep on the couch to keep me safe, but Nico objected saying they were got a chain on the door now and 'his Mom' didn't need a random guy on her couch. My little tiger, so protective.

"Thank you, Foggy, but you said you had to get the case ready," I reminded him and he went pink as Karen dragged his arm away.

"I'll make sure he leaves and doesn't camp on your doorstep," Karen said kindly before Matt followed them slowly, giving us a wave. He looked wildly energetic despite it being so late. The man must be used to working late hours I guess.

I settled into bed, feeling exhausted as I double checked the locks, set chairs under the front door, darkened the apartment and set glasses about on window ledges. Just as I was about to drift off, I became keenly aware of another charge flickering as if to say good night.

If I didn't have this power, I could be dead right now. My heart felt warm and comforted by this strange gift of knowledge. I still couldn't hope to get the right skills at the right moment. I was physically a bit of a sucker in terms of running my ass away from fights and guns.

I decided to try Physical Fitness. The knowledge was a lot considering there were ways to condition the whole body to tiny unique exercises for the jaw alone. The issue was that while I could develop a rough and simple workout plan, and coupled with my cooking the correct amount and superfoods… I could not control two basic values- time and biology.

I could, and would, start working out, but between my new job, the kids, and the upcoming court case. I couldn't get more than an hour or two on some days to do a run. A full membership was out of the question on my current budget, but it was a start I suppose.

I'd begin to shed a rough 'water weight' in the coming weeks, and depending only on my routine, see results as few as a couple of months. If nothing else, it really did synergise with cooking and psychology to point out the obvious.

If I ate and acted like crap, I felt like crap. If I ate good and acted good, I would feel good. It wasn't the cure to depression worldwide, but it had merits.

The news headline the next morning was interesting.

' Spider-Man fought the new costumed man who claimed he was here to bring Spider-Man down as a threat. The man called himself 'Avenging Angel' and seemed to fly and even break Spider-Man's webs at times! Their fight ended up with Spider-Man vanishing out of sight after Avenging Angel threw him into a construction sight before flying off. The damage could be up to the cost of a hundred thousand in damages alone," the news anchor lady reported grimly. Pictures of some hooded idiot dashing about in some garish red cape, doing battle with Spider-Man were flashed up and I wondered…

If that was Jack and the stolen item that was getting me into trouble?

I wondered if my goal should be to 'survive' to 'find my idiot ex and get the damn cloak back myself and burn it'?

I idly waved as Nico said he was taking soup to Peter who was unwell. I decided to go for a run around my house, keeping clear of any cars that approached. I wasn't bothered all day until my shift.

It was too quiet.

4: The Ex! Who's at my door?!

I wiped the surface as I waited for the next order.

"How much is a moment of your time and the best coffee you can make for under $5?" came Foggy's amused voice. I looked up in surprise.

"Oh is that how Matt feels when he sneaks up on someone?" he mused, rolling his tongue in his cheek. "I like it," he grinned.

"Matt is weirdly quiet when he moves. You were just covered by the machine doing its manual steam clean," I countered, but I was smiling. I was beginning to enjoy the company of Foggy and Matt. They were more than just detached lawyers, but caring people. I didn't know Karen well yet, but I suspected she was kind too.

I decided he would get the best damn coffee I could make and given Mr Geoff was finally trusting me to push more than the hot water button or the foamer, I was going to rock this little man's world.

First, I ground the beans myself in a little machine, having the coffee maker ready the fresh milk as I stirred as the hot milk met with the coffee and sugar grinded together. I had chosen a sort of jovial tasting coffee that could be either bubbly or overeager. It didn't work too badly as the milk was softly introduced, twisting it this way and that until I had the perfect image of a set of scales on the top.

"One cup of justice," I announced, enjoying his jaw drop at the image. It might last another 20 seconds, but I plucked his money from his hand with a sweet smile.

"I'll go enjoy it," he said, but gesture to the case at his feet.

"We do need to talk. Good news," he said quickly as he headed for one of the mismatched seats near the windows. Mr Geoff didn't have many seats, but those lucky to get them knew they were damn comfortable.

He seemed nervous, but happy.

Therapist Sandra pointed out this could be a big case and he was eager to please. Foggy had puppy vibes which wasn't bad, but the good news was obviously making him impatient.

"I don't need you. Go talk to your admirer," Mr Geoff said abruptly as he ushered over and took the equipment from my hand.

"Mr Geoff, I can-" I argued, but he looked me right in the eye, watery blue eyes seemingly unflinching.

"You won't lose your pay, but he stinks as a lawyer and you should talk to him. No customers and you've cleaned everything twice. Pointless busy work annoys me," he said firmly and ushered me out.

Well, he was the boss. A moment later I had a cup of water and was joining Foggy by the window.

"So, last night. Someone dropped off a disk. It was a lifted copy of a selection of emails and a copy of Oscorp's private email chain. It's a goldmine, but whoever copied it just lifted everything involving your name! So, we got transcripts of the day you were fired!" Foggy explained excitedly.

I stared. Having worked at the imposing company myself, I knew whoever accessed this server was at the top levels of the company and behind some very secure doors. Hell, I would be surprised if Osborn could get all this data in one pull and it was his company!

"Yeah, Oscorp reported a 'slight' delay to public sites as it updated their security. That's a big flag according to Matt that they had a leak," Foggy tapped the disc. I felt a cold sweat as my Spy Sandra sat forward, eyes bugged out.

"Foggy, don't tell me that's the only copy," I whispered.

"It's A copy. The mysterious delivery said so, but me and Matt can barely run StarkPaint on our computers. We can't burn copies. We have a digital backup on Karen's laptop, but this is the physical copy," he explained. That was slightly better, having three copies minimum. It would avoid the stupid issue of being hunted down later by Oscorp assassins or something…

"So, here's what we got. The nights before you got fired. Oscorp were getting a 'special' delivery by a J.Star, which from what you said is your dirtbag of an Ex. They already knew about the connection between you and him before even contacting him," Foggy pointed out random emails of higher end Oscorp managers.

It felt weird I was oblivious to this all.

"So, we have proof they contacted him to lift stolen stuff," I said and Foggy gave a less than good shrug.

"Contact and talking business and 'successful payment for items rendered' aren't damning. No one out right said 'we took money from the shadowy Kingpin and stole something from across the country' in these emails. They're greedy, not idiotic," Foggy said sadly.

"The night you got fired. The emails got really tense. Demands for meetings, hints about an issue, and outright panic on some levels about something. Norman Osborn was brought in and all emails after ceased. The subject was banned on any public level. Then you got fired," Foggy finished explaining as he drained his coffee.

"My god, that was amazing," he said, licking his lips.

I had a lawyer student in my head, but Foggy was a practicing man of a firm for quite a few years. I could guess how this helped, but I might as well ask.

"So, does this mean Oscorp can still arrest me for thieving?" I asked, trying not to shake him.

"Their case went from being able to brush off too much to the judge having to demand they offer up an explanation for their actions. Something I don't think they want to share to the court of public. Matt thinks they're going to settle and pay you off to shut up," Foggy admitted.

"If they push and are willing to be blunt about their 'project'. Yessss you could still likely get a big court and tied to your ex as a co-conspirator somehow since they can claim he used your details to gain access," he said after a moment.

"But you don't think they will because they lifted something from Thomas Halloway, not just some random rich guy," I said slowly.

"Matt talked to people. Thomas Halloway is not someone you fucked with. A lot of his stuff is blacked out and its not pretty what is visible," Foggy warned as he played with a pen.

"But he's dead. Right?" I asked, wondering how a dead man could spook Norman Osborn.

"Yeah, but the man had some legacies. Some of which only behave because they respected Halloway. The guy had a lot of scary people as his 'friends'. Besides, we all thought Captain America was dead, and lo and behold, he's back in action. Halloway will just nap for 50 years in a tomb and wake up to be grumpy again," Foggy said, cracking a smile and getting a smile back from me.

"So, Norman Osborn sends me $500 bucks and I'm free?" I asked excitedly, but as Foggy stuttered to correct me, I could already see how that statement was wrong. Spy Sandra tutted at me 'poor summer child" she said sadly.

"Well, first we can easily push for 50k in damage and 'trauma'. Second, you'll be free from the public court of battle?" he said and I was already understanding.

Osborn and the other faction wanted whatever Jack had. Ergo, they had to reel in a flying idiot with something. What could they offer or bait a man who had a literal stupid cape or something? That was why Oscorp wanted me in prison and my kids in some fucked up system.

A bargaining chip.

The other side was just more honest about it.

"I didn't even want child support. I wanted him to leave us alone so we could be happy. I should sit down with a graph and explain exactly how hard Jack would laugh in his face if he thought his 'family' was worth squat to him," I said quietly and sadly. Therapist Sandra tried to talk this through with me, but Barista Sandra shoved her down some stairs of daydreams.

I owed her one. I didn't need to explore that right now.

"Yeah. Listen, I know you're tight on cash, but maybe hire a car and enjoy a ride down to Florida for a while?" Foggy suggested, but he couldn't do more than what he had for now. I thanked him and got back to work as a charge winked into existence.

I ended up feeling like if Osborn or his shadowy partners wanted me dead or as bait, the least I could do was try and turn my home into a fortress until the cops or even better, Spider-Man showed up.

I didn't want a gun, but I'd have to look into tasers or something. The knowledge began to flow into me as I went into the back alley to hoof the trash into the dumpster.

It came in bursts. The subject wide for the art of having anything meant protecting it from others. I even learned what I did wrong with the car I stole yesterday. Security was, in the end an obstacle. It was a measure to keep something safe, but the best security either killed or destroyed whatever it was protecting. Anything else? It was vulnerable. Even then, the best security needed a key or some way to shut it off. Every net or cage ended in a single crack that was the last thing to be done.

There was no such thing as a perfect defence.

However, there was plenty of 'good enough'.

Spy Sandra took what she needed from Vault Sandra, sharing tips on how best to overcome locks and certain common place issues. Detective Sandra liked the idea of keeping information secure or where to look for it.

Barista Sandra wondered where the coffee lore was kept locked up in the world.

Someone covered my eyes and I turned, my meager spy skills contained a rudimentary way of aiming for the eyes, but the person grabbed my wrists before I could get far.

"Sandy Bear, chill," came that voice.

That voice.

Jack Star looked slightly older. He had lost some of the fat he collected from sitting on his ass, 'wasting his life' as he put it. He was never ugly. He had been a football player that had that kind of sandy blond hair and stubble that if he was put in a leather jacket, made you feel pretty from simply getting his attention.

That had been his trap and I had headed right for it when we first met. All the voices in my head went quiet except for Therapist who stuck her head over the top of the stairs in disarray only to go 'oh shit' and duck back down.

Jack was wearing some dumb looking wizard's cloak that was clasped around his neck with a twinling silver jewel that seemed to glint like liquid silver. I went to punch his jaw, but his grip was like iron. It wasn't a man vs woman thing, he was literally not even shaking as I struggled against him as if he was made of stone and I was paper.

"I bench pressed a boulder today. Come on, calm down," he insisted and his tone had that annoying husky quality of affection as if he thought I was cute in my attempt to be dangerous.

I went for the brooch, but he floated, actually floated as if it was the easiest thing in the world, and left me dangling a few feet off the ground.

"Yeah, I get it. You wanna kick me in the balls, but you'd actually break your foot or something. Sandra, I'm tough," he scowled finally and put me down when I went limp.

"That cloak is strong. You just stole it," I snapped back and he had the gall to look sheepish.

"Steal is a big word. I didn't even mean to take it out the box, but it was humming and I thought it was a bomb. I opened it up and it's just… there. Waiting. Sandy, it was calling me," he tried to explain.

"Your 'calling' nearly destroyed my family and ruined us. So, well done" You fucked us over again. Couldn't help, could you?!" I spat. That got a wince and he fidgeted with the clasp of the cloak.

"Listen. Better me than with that asshat Osborn or the Kingpin. You wouldn't like them with this anymore than me," he said seriously then shrugged.

"Besides. I came back cause you're in trouble. I could be across the country, but I'm still here in the city where everyone wants my head," he pointed out.

I was stunned and my mind spat out the first thing I could accuse him of. Putting my life in danger? My kids? Our future? Getting me involved with psychos, but what actually came out was…

"You beat up Spider-Man!" I yelled, red-faced. Jack had the gall to look hurt.

"He actually hurt me. Like Sandra, I tanked bullets and that guy's punch hurt more. He's not right!" he complained. I hated Jack, but something was creeping me out. This was far more irrational or childish than I had ever seen my ex.

I didn't fall in love and out of love with a manchild. I was getting some serious weird vibes now.

"Jack. Can you take the cape off for just two minutes so we can talk on equal ground?" I asked firmly and then gently. Jack hesitated, fingers fidgeting again.

"I guess, but I really like having the cape on. It lets me fly," Jack said as matter of fact. He undid the brooch and pulsing silver glow died down as Jack settled back on the ground, looking a little put out as if his world had just lost colour.

For the first time. I wielded my full psychology power over someone, digging into every facet of Jack with the other 'muses' backing her up.

"You had a plan and I appreciate that you… came back to help me. But flying about and throwing people about aren't going to help," I began and Jack shrugged.

"It happened real fast. We just collided and he said I was putting someone in trouble and I thought he was a cocky thing, but I guess he was right. I went back to check on Spider-Man, but he was gone when I swung back around. He's tough… I hope," Jack said more subdued, his hair flatter.

"He could be hurt. How much does that dangerous artifact enhance you?" I asked, subtly planting the idea of danger in his mind about the cape. It was low-tier manipulation that most of the population might see through, but Jack sounded like his mind was a bit like cotton.

At all times, I had the moral thought 'I am willingly and knowingly trying to influence Jack. I admit this so I don't become comfortable with the idea in my everyday life'. I had to. Manipulation like this, even at a base level was troubling in how easy it was.

"A lot. Like I can throw trees around. I can zip about New York in under 20 minutes if I weave and explore in a straight line. I can shrug off hitting brick walls," he began to list and I cut off his growing enthusiasm with a quiet comment.

"It made you throw a hero in anger across the street into a construction site. It made you do that," I pointed out.

"I just lost control of my temper, Sandra. It happens," he protested and I redirected his anger again.

"It took your control. Jack, you are many things, but explosive and hotheaded is not one of them. We both know that," I pointed out, but in my head, a dark thought reminded me that his brand of anger was cold and cruel when it stuck him in his dark days.

He bit his lip and I could see him warring with the amazing feeling the cape provided and the conflict it had on his own image. He could tolerate one, but not the other. I just hoped the less destructive one won.

"Yeah, I'll… wear it less. I just wanted you to know I was around. Maybe this thing has bad vibes, but could be the new feeling," Jack said with a deep frown, doubt in his voice. He slipped the clock on and grinned at me and it felt like 16 years ago. Me, an idiot 17 year old with a growing belly, him a fresh 19 year old looking shell-shocked.

I gave up everything for my kids, and he came and went when he started feeling trapped. He could have the freedom and the world. I had the better happy ending.

Nico and Emma.

Whatever charm he had evaporated and my feelings of the cloak made it come off as cheap and frail. What a stupid cape.

"Lose it in a fire. Even you can do better than that thing. Tack it to Osborn's window, hand it over to Spider-Man, or just publicly destroy it. If you have any love for Nico and Emma beyond the sad birthday cards you send every other year, you'll do that," I said coldly and Jack winced but I went back inside before he could try and take me flying or some bullshit.

I saw Mr Geoff was nearby, looking at me why I was taking so long for trash. I slid down the door and wept out of the sight of the public. On the other side of the door I could feel Jack touch the door, his strength barely restraint.

Then he was gone.

I sat there for a few moments, Mr Geoff looking at me as though I was a radioactive scorpion bomb primed to go off until I climbed to my feet and excused myself to the bathroom to clean up.

Thank God I didn't wear makeup.

When I emerged, Mr Geoff handed me a box of dusty tissues.

"People are pigs. Keep them at a distance and love but a few," he said quietly and put me to work grilling cheese, the sacred position that offered me cover behind a large cook station and protection from prying eyes.

I needed to tell Nico who was in town when I got home and him from school. Last thing I wanted was my poor son to feel that kindle of hope that his dad was becoming a hero when that cape in the wrong hands was just heroin-laced magic. If such a thing was real.

Was magic real?

It was hard to believe at times.

When I got home, I stopped outside my building to inspect the simple lock and latch. The thing was old and there wasn't even an alarm working if someone kicked it in. I had as much luck getting the landlord to improve the door as I had a chance of loving Jack again.

My own door was much better with the chain, but it was still only a slab of wood between my family and the outside world. What was worse than if I even had a damn metal door. My walls on either side were just plaster. I was living in a chalky house and one good bomb would bring me down.

The windows were old and my windows let someone on opposite buildings have a lot of view into my kitchen area. The large sign board outside on the roof across? It was a damn tactical vantage point if people wanted to spy… or set up a sniper.

My powers were giving me anxiety.

Therapist Sandra insisted that there simply could be nothing done about it. The power pointed out I could feel better by accepting if someone like Norman Osborn wanted me dead, I'd be dead. No ifs or buts.

I'd be dead already.

I wasn't his target. Jack was and Osborn couldn't value the cost of having me offed yet.

That weirdly helped. A charge flicked into my chest and I figured I might get another one before the day was out. I poured into cooking, needing some outlet that didn't focus on sensing death and weakness everywhere.

Cooking unfolded and my mind expanded… like yeast.

You could be artsy about food, you could plate the most delicious looking food on the planet, and you could even price a stick of celery in water for $500 a pop. But if it didn't taste good? What was even the point?

Your seasoning and herb knowledge grew so much it was like you could string together a whole new language with the shorthand of spices. Your treatment of meat went beyond rare, medium or well done. There was a finesse in the layers between. Dessert was more than the initial sugar rush, it was the taste that linger for hours after. Every exhale is a reminder of heaven.

Food so good that it made one forget about appearances. Good food was art, but it wasn't for the eyes, not mainly. It was for the stomach and palate.

Also, tinned food was nothing to be ashamed about as long as you mixed it up or admitted it was easier to use pre-chopped carrots cause really… chopping a carrot takes time; you could be doing something else.

Emma emerged with Nico just behind her. I wanted to keep them home, but honestly if people were going to be breaking in to look for Jack or his cape, they were safer at school.

I smiled at them, knowing exactly what I wanted to do.

Chef Sandra was a zen warrior that only reared her head when a challenge arose. I likened her to the ancient samurai of old. Solemn and deadly, a giant chef knife over one shoulder.

Emma told me about her day and I almost missed the undertones of 'white noise' she was projecting. She seemed to avoid talking about something so I sat down as my food began to cook. A nice gift for Nico's friend, Peter. I thought we could take some over for him. I wanted to get out and stretch my legs.

"Emma, what's up?" I asked gently, knowing I could use psychology or other tactics on her, but it just felt… wrong. Honest connections didn't need artificial aids and I didn't want to think I didn't give my daughter anything but 100% me.

"It's nothing. I just…" Emma said before shrugging helplessly.

"You got that way when Dad's around. You're normal, but you get dark," Emma admitted and Nico looked thunderous, but looked like he agreed.

"He's around," I admitted, already deciding to tell them in case he tried to approach them. Nico actually looked stunned for some reason as if he couldn't believe Jack hadn't up and left already. I was surprised too to be honest.

"I get he's in New York, but actually came near you?!" Nico demanded, looking angry. That took me by surprise.

"You knew?" I asked suddenly and Nico paused, noticing he had indeed slipped up.

"He sends me emails sometimes and a friend told me he ran into him not long ago. I don't care what he does as long as he stays away from us," Nico said and I couldn't help but note he was keeping something back. Nico was stubborn, but even he had his tells. He always clenched his hands when he had something else to say.

"What friend? Nico, your dad is doing his usual stuff, just keep clear. He doesn't have to be your business," I said and Nico sighed as Emma looked awkward between us.

"I am staying clear of him. You can't pay me to get close to Jack, but when he bothers you that means he's got us involved in whatever he's doing, right?" Nico pressed, avoiding the first question in total.

Was it Gwen? Peter? MJ? That Betty girl?

He did visit Peter, so maybe the kid was the friend?

"How is Peter?" I asked abruptly and the sudden change in topic threw him.

"Uh, Pete? He's better than last night. His aunt's a good lady and Pete's always bounced back quick, why?" he asked, honestly puzzled at my line of questions.

"I'll be honest with you both because you are my kids and I don't want you both dying or getting dragged into something stupid because I was trying to protect you both," I began.

I explained how their father, oh wise man that he was, stole a magic cape which was making him… odd.

"Dad, you don't touch the obvious calling magic item," Emma said with a groan, her books of various teen adventurers in the various magic lands giving her way more wisdom than Jack already.

"Cape… Thomas Halloway. That has to be the Cape of Mercury. When I was in my WW2 stage of harcore Bucky worship," Nico said so casually it was hard to spot the flush near his ears. Hardcore was putting it midly.

If you asked Nico when he was ten years old who was the hero and the sidekick? Captain America being alive gave Nico more hope for Bucky's miraculous recovery. My son loved those history books and old copies of the ads they used to run back in the day. I got it for like a dollar in a charity shop.

"Thomas Halloway was part of a squad with the Captain and Bucky. He had a cape that let him fly, but he didn't use it because he liked to rely on his own power, or so the interview said," Nico shrugged.

Most likely because the cape drove its wearer a little nuts than some macho thing Thomas claimed.

Still, I didn't hold my breath for the 'miraculous' return of Bucky. Foggy could joke, but dead people just didn't come back to life when it was convenient or not so convenient. Dead was dead.

Hell, I wasn't even sure cloning was a viable technology yet. You'd think that would be big news…

I might accept alternate dimension copies. Reed Richards certainly almost pulled that Baxter building of his through enough of them to get complaints.

Reed Richards made me nervous. He was a bit too chavalier in any interview about how 'fixed' things in the end. I just hoped he didn't think forgiveness was better than permission to much. The man had zero oversight in his lab as far as I knew. Oscorp gossi certainly didn't think so when I worked there.

I decided to banish thoughts of wild west cowboy scientists for a much more delightful task.

May Parker was a woman who had aged with grace. Her short brunette hair still had colour and life, even if the wrinkles around her eyes and thinning frame suggested some hardships in her life. She wore light airy clothes like a sweater and a shawl and sensible tennis shoes. She seemed kind, but practical. I liked her on sight.

I'd place her late 40's or maybe early 50's if I was being rude.

She looked puzzled until she saw Nico then eyed the rest of us.

I held up the wrapped massive container of chicken broth. The liquid had soft, but not mushy, sliced vegetables floating in its slightly thick chicken flavoured mix. The chunks of chicken were so fine and cooked they could melt in one's mouth. The seasoning added just enough tingle to stimulate the senses and feel warm all the way down. The taste lingered about in the mouth, a warm taste of salted meat and veg.

"Hi, I'm Nico's Mom, he told me about Peter and I just met him. He seemed like a great young man and Nico's been worried," I said, a little nervous approaching another parent. May made an 'ah' sound and gave me a look that said 'I like the cut of your grit, let's see what you got'.

It was a mother thing. Not idly did we invite others into our home unexpectedly on a whim. It was an honor.

The Parker home was like May, aging gracefully from a different time, but no less striking. There were memories of May and her passed Husband everywhere. The main style was soft whites and floral patterns, but unlike most that came off as overburdening or cloying, this home had a sleepy and soft quality to it, but under the flower was solid wood and concrete.

If I grew old? I wanted a house like this but with more green and brown wood surfaces.

"Nico is a wonderful boy. So shy when he comes over," May chuckled as Nico had already vanished upstairs to see if Peter was awake. Emma sat there, curious, but she was content to listen and learn.

"And what is your name?" May asked as she got me and Emma a glass of ice tea.

"Emma, I'm 11 years old. I want to either be president of the United States or as cool as my Mom," Emma said briskly. May chuckled, hands clapped once.

"I'd vote for you in a heartbeat," May said, winking.

May might reconsider since my daughter's elect promises involved giving boys shots to make them less disgusting, milkshakes mandatory weekly supplies paid by the government, and battle horses for girls and boys when they reached 16 to show they matured.

Depending on her politics in a few years, those shots could easily mature into shipping boys into another country to create a utopia for girls and women that weren't too bad.

A moment later, Peter shuffled downstairs, lured by the scent of my trap. The guy was wearing a baggy top and running pants that made him look more sickly. He was pale and moving too much seemed to make his eyes glazed. He wasn't leaking mucus or sniffling which was a little weird for a sickness, but it could be manifesting in other… body fluids.

He moved oddly, more injured as if his ribs hurt from coughing too much. I didn't know enough about biology to sickness' apart or anatomy to know what was odd or off, or even medical skills to pick apart his movements, but I just knew that he was definitely not alright.

When he saw May, he relaxed and that assured me carried nothing but obvious love for the woman who seemed to stand up, concerned.

"I could have brought Miss AeKure up to see you, Peter. Her broth does smell good," May said, smiling but she was clearly worried.

First, May said my name right without hesitation. Point to her.

Second, if May could rip apart the stars to make Peter feel better, she would do it. She either had the deepest acting skills this side of the world or she really did love Peter as well.

"I know, but stuck in bed all day was driving me mad. Between Nico texting me and Ned missing me in chemistry, I was getting lonely," Peter joked before he went straight for the broth.

"Hi, Miss AeKure," Peter greeted, glasses skewed.

"Sandra," I said to both him and May. Miss AeKure was reserved for people I didn't like. Peter ended up having three bowls of broth there and then, the boy just gulping the stuff down.

"If you were hungry, you should have said," May said, enjoying her own.

"I didn't know until I smelled it," Peter admitted sheepishly.

Gym Rat Sandra conspired with the Zen Chef Sandra to point out Peter's metabolism had to be insane because was literally looking healthier by the second and perkier by the time he settled down, full.

Therapist Sandra was logical. Teenagers were a chaotic flux of hormones and changes. Things like that were normal in the weird ones. Some kids had good metabolism, some discovered who they were somewhat, and some woke a X-Gene and could turn into a dragon.

Puberty was just magic like that.

"I just came down with something. Some chest infection," Peter explained as we all seemed to grow more comfortable around each other.

"Peter is a medical nightmare. He catches everything and just gets better the next day. The Parker genes for toughing it out hit Peter hard, he doesn't want doctors or medication. Just good food and sleep then he's right as rain," May said casually.

It could be something… it could be nothing. Mutants were a thing, some had the power to rip you apart with their mind, some had the power to grow excess flabby skin. Was a minor rest power so weird?

Those X-Guys had powers so maybe I should suggest May looks them up, but for a power as minor as having minor illness bounce back, it might not be worth ruining their stable lives. Peter wasn't even out of highschool.

As we left the Parker home, I gained another charge. May gave me her home number which was a big thing after one meeting, but I think we hit the comfortable stride of liking each other and our kids got on.

Getting home, I froze when I saw a large man in a cap and dusty leather jacket sitting on the floor, waiting outside my door. Across from him was a woman who had dark brunette hair and sharp eyes.

I pushed my kids behind me and tried to make myself as large as possible. The large guy wore sunglasses, but he seemed clean shaven and awkward as if he couldn't hide his posture or act dishonestly if it saved his life. The woman?

The woman was a null. She projected nothing, she gave nothing, she promised nothing, her lack of tells was in itself a tell. She didn't expect me to know the tells, but she was a machine of habit in covering herself.

"Miss AeKure, sorry to appear suddenly. We knocked, but didn't want to… " the man looked at the woman stared back impassively, "barge in to wait on you," he said as he took off his hat and glasses, looking kind familiar in a 'I know that face somewhere' way.

"You're the Captain!" Nico barged past me, making my big momma defensive line pointless. The very handsome man smiled kindly at Nico, putting a hand out. I honestly knew he was the strongest person here, but I was too busy focusing on the woman in the dark coat.

"Natasha," she said finally. Emma eyed her, deeming her interesting enough to merit outright staring. Natasha stared back as if Emma was some sort of alien from the planet 'Childe'.

"Can I ask why Captain America and 'Natasha' are at my door?" I ask and Nico gave the look of 'if you don't invite them in, I'm going to marry a hardcore nut politcian and buy paintings cause of the namebrand'. The child knew my fears too well.

The man turned and-

The Sandra collective stood on alert.

'That should be illegal' Lawyer Sandra said bluntly, summing it up. I let them in cause I honestly couldn't stop them, but the captain seemed like he was a nice man and I was a sucker for nice men who looked like they'd buy me flowers if they thought it cheer me up.

After explaining I wasn't going to hide things from my kids, the legendary soldier and 'Natasha' got down to why they were here.

I had not, in fact, triggered any super power sensor.

"Thomas Halloway was… a friend before he passed. Me and him had a rocky relationship due to some of his later beliefs, but we parted on good terms in the end," Steve Rogers, as he introduced himself. I liked that, if he said Captain America, it would have diminished his charm a bit.

"His death made his collection of items, some dangerous, some just valuable, moving for the first time in over a hundred years. One of those items was mishandled and placed into the care of your husband," Natasha said and she had the accent that was no accent at all and always a shift in tone towards the end.

It was something of a hard American roll, sometimes a slight lilt of something British, sometimes it was exotic.

"Former husband. I wanted nothing to do with him ever since he left years ago.," I corrected her and the way she stared I knew for a fact she did that on purpose to get a reaction. Steve shot her a look which Natasha ignored. The woman was dangerous. She made Spy Sandra want to test her teeth, knowing full well she was the bigger predator for the moment.

Natasha smiled but like everything she did, it was never quite real or quite uncontrolled. Natasha did everything in a manner that was either playful or purposeful.

She took out a picture and slid it on the table of Jack and I talking in heated tones behind the Brewer. The image got my face and the cape on Jack. It was a long range zoom if my various knowledge was right. Top end stuff.

"And?" I asked her, wondering what she thought I was. A co-conspirator or a power grabber?

"Also, thanks for intervening. I could have used the hand," I added. Nico was glaring at the picture.

"They were told not to set Jack off. With the cape on, nothing short of direct combat is effective with serious firepower, and when he took the cape off, we held off to see if you could convince him to surrender which we think he might have eventually. Direct engagement should be the last option and you were a pretty good negotiator so we took that risk," Steve said, getting my attention

"I wanted to shoot him," Natasha added in before she eyed me.

"Non-lethally. If he got violent, you'd be the first victim," she amended when Steve gave her a 'look'.

"That would have been cool. How would you have done it? A sniper gun?" Nico asked with interest.

"Sniper Rifle and no. The angles aren't great. For that kind of shot, something you can use on the move but to pack a punch would be good. Some handguns can do the job, but I usually find going harder with the bigger models is insurance of not messing up," Natasha explained as she leaned back.

"She's not real, is she?" I asked Steve who grinned apologetically.

"She's been smiling a lot due to Avenger PR stuff. She's a bit crabby," he explained and Natashe raised an elegant eyebrow at the comment.

"Can you not shoot my dad? He's a bit… unreliable, but he is my dad," Emma spoke up and Natasha gave her a smile that if I didn't know how in control she was? I would have believed it, even with my new knowledge and habits, Natasha went from a strange murderous woman to instant model-like glamour and warmth.

"Of course. Your Mom and Steve here are going to come up with a plan to help him," she said calmly. I got them coffee which Steve loved and Natasha loved holding.

If I found spilled coffee down the back of my sofa or in any houseplant, I would throttle her with her perfect hair and smile.

"I have to try more coffee. You work in that place on Lorns and 4th? I'll drop by if you don't tell people," Steve said, putting down the cup, not a single drip of coffee left. Detective and Spy Sandra finally picked their jaws off the floor at the man before them to point out the almost bland good cop and cop routine they were using. Natasha was bing aggravating, cold and obviously ill-mannered to lure me to Steve's natural warmness.

There was a good chance Steve didn't even know there was a plan.

"Welcome anytime," I said warmly back.

'Attractive man with strong characteristics, good with children, polite, and looks good in a leather jacket, this obvious transferal attraction still felt by Jack that I was passing onto the first man who ticked all the boxes' Therapist Sandra concluded.

'We're legally divorced and have a type. Steve's just the best version of that type,' Lawyer Sandra pointed out.

'The things I would do to that man and olive oil' Chef Sandra admitted bluntly, unusual for her zen self.

They all had points, but I really could use the therapy about Jack after he went away. I couldn't both process the pain and still experience it daily. Therapy was about recovery and I was still in the fire. Steve was nice and while attractive, he deserved to be more than a hunk of meat. He was kind and had honest eyes.

I would treat him with the respect of a person, not a sex object.

The moment I did, I could see a sense of old pain and some sleepless nights about him. He seemed ill at ease about the world and his clothes were plain as if any colour was too eye-catching for his preferences. He was kind, but he also just seemed lonely.

Therapist Sandra said quietly in my mind that it was not my duty to fix people or see them as ways to express myself. I acknowledged that, what I noticed about Steve, and politely packed it away for another time as I got down to business.

"Can you tell me why this Cape of Mercury is making my ex go nuts?" I asked and Steve grimaced.

"Tom told me once that the Cape has rules. If gifted? It's a blessing, but if stolen? Its powers are greatly enhanced but it's doomed to always be taken in the end. Tom said the cape was capricious and even gifted, it could make you feel strong," Steve explained.

"But he said it called to him," I protested, not wanting to defend Jack, but unable to omit what he mentioned.

"After he took the container. The cape isn't sentient, it's an item with hard rules. Jack stole it, so it sought to do as it was made, become attractive, cause trouble and be lost until it was found. The cape would do this until it found a worthy owner then that owner would be able to give it to someone else. The issue is, Thomas already gifted it to someone before Jack stole it, so until its return to… them, it's going to keep causing trouble," Steve went on, wringing his hands slightly.

"Dad…" Emma muttered quietly, worried. Nico looked unsure.

"Can't the real owner just come back, click his fingers and assert his ownership?" he asked Steve and Natasha who shared a look.

"They can't. The cape was going to give them a second chance at life. Halloway was making amends due to certain actions he partook in his life. One of those was finding worthy people for his various magical items he collected to improve their lives instead of merely improving the nearest nice guy," Natasha spoke quieter this time, some actual emotion in her voice.

Oh Jack, what have you done…

"Without too much details, the cape's owner has a serious disease that causes his bones to be far too weak to do anything, but the cape was proven to put his body into a state of strength and vitality they could have a normal life with the cape and a short time away from it," Steve added gently, getting a worried glance from Natasha who clearly thought that was too much information for us outsiders.

I could see the issue and the whole deal with the owner was bad, but as much as I wanted to frolic and run amok with Steve in the happy every land? My life was still in danger.

"And Osborn? He was the one who started this mess," I pointed out.

"Someone at Oscorp. We're narrowing it down, but we don't have the evidence that ties Norman Osborn to the contact, the payment, the buyer, Jack, or even your own firing. The only thing tying Osborn to all this is that it happened as Oscorp, a massive company with hundreds of employees," Natasha responded, but it was clear she was trying to stress how much she actually believed Norman's innocence.

Not for a moment.

Even the emails that Matt and Foggy had shown me only mentioned bringing Norman in as a panic response. At worst? He fired you as a potential leak and as protection to his company. A minor charge at best.

"And I'm sitting here when Jack can swing by or Norman's goons or what and you want me to just drop what I'm doing to help," I stood upm frustrated. Nico touched my hand.

"Jack gives the Cape up, we get left alone," he said and I wanted to believe that, but it was a bit much all at once.

"You have agents on the street and across the roof now. It's a task force assigned to protect you. You'll have protection at work. You just need to tell us if you think you can convince Jack to take the cape off and hand it off or if you want no part of it and leave it to us to handle," Natasha said bluntly.

What did I want?

I wanted Jack to go away and he was only good to do that when he ditched the cape. Maybe Natasha would arrest him, but he was a thief. The cape was making act like a ditzy kid playing hero and with dangerous power. I had made him take the cape off once, could I do it again?

Ì looked at Emma who still had the glimmer of hope for her dad's redemption. Nico was eyeing me not to get involved, but I knew he'd also trust me to be strong as well. Steve was trying to convey a sense of 'it's okay, you're okay… just say no and I'll make it all better'. Sweet, but it made me want to do it more so Steve didn't think he had to solve my issues like I felt for a moment I had to fix his.

"I can do it," I said.

Nico got Steve to sign things and I saw Steve hide a pain and smiled with a thinning of the lips as Nico gently handed him one of those old comics they printed to spruce up fame and PR of the old days. Captain America and Bucky comics that were most made-up tales, but the cover was vintage. I think Nico saved for a year to buy it.

"Bucky loved these. All the time he would write in and tell them of ideas and stories, claiming to be the real thing. I don't think they believed him, but it made us laugh when they printed some real things," Steve said as he signed over his own face, keeping the cheerful image of the young Bucky clear.

"He sounded amazing," Nico said and it got a real smile out of him.

"He'd like you. He was a big fan of fans," he said back then slung his cap onto Nico's head.

"See you around, son," he patted Nico's shoulder before giving you a kind nod.

"Ma'am, I'll see you soon. Don't do anything reckless. I can't just have that coffee once," he joked and you patted him lightly which was the extent of human contact he seemed to tolerate from strangers.

I turned to Natasha and put my hand out. She seemed to stare at it with no emotion before she shook it back.

"If I find any listening bugs in my home or my children's rooms, I will tear your dye job hair out and weave a noose," I warned with a smile. Emma and Nico winced, but Natasha smiled and it could almost be genuine. It was amusing and playful.

"And If I was going to waste the cash to bug you, you'd never find them," she promised and left the room.

Steve grimaced at her words before he put a hand up.

"She promised she had no bugs and I want to believe her. She's got better, I swear," he said and left.

And, boy, did he leave.

"It's still warm from his head," Nico grinned as he touched the cap and Emma eyed the closed door with speculative eyes.

"Interesting," was all she said.

Kids.

I used my charge as I didn't want to use it when miss 'Natasha' was around. I think she might have sensed any obvious or key aspect that changed abruptly.

My spy talents suggested it would akin to alerting her to a sleeper agent waking up. I put it into Psychology, the star symbol of a brain missing a jigsaw piece forming brighter.

The knowledge unfurled and honestly, looking in the mirror was never easy. The skills came deeper into the various areas. I got a glimpse at condition, building habits into people, and even ticks. Unconscious commands and more. The ability to know the signs of a generic unhealthy mind. The triad of serial killers. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder flared up, showing me how it was more than needing order.

It was a soul-breaking condition of needing to flick the light 23 times or your family would die. Repeat things three times or you would burst into flames. How the condition was strong that it broke all logic and rhyme. I saw how phobias affects logic in the same way.

I learned from all this one thing. People had coping mechanisms.

If you deprived people of their coping mechanism, the mind could become irrational and unpredictable. A favorite toy could not just be yanked away, it had to be diminished in its worth. A habit couldn't just be stopped, newer and more enjoyable onces had to be eased in. Grief couldn't just be pushed past, life had to be continually washed over them until it began to function once more.

And I knew Jack's coping mechanism.

He always had to be the good guy in his story. He didn't run away from his family, he spared them from his unlikeable self and gave them space! He didn't steal from a dead guy, he stopped Norman getting the cape!

He didn't hurt Spider-Man, the guy walked off!

All I had to do was convince him that deadbeat dad Jack the thief was just a better guy than powetripping danger villain, Avenging Angel!

I hate this man so much. I really did.

5: A customer! A surprise guest?!

I spent the rest of the day watching for my supposed 'watchers', both hoping against and for Jack to show up. But the hours passed peacefully despite my insistence that I shouldn't be able to relax.

Dinner passed, a nice pasta affair. While I could know how to make a meal so good that it would blow the socks off anyone who tasted it, I had to also be frugal with my ingredients. I turned to my council of Sandras on how viable making money was with what I had.

Lawyer Sandra and Spy Sandra were the ones who led the charge. While I had decent viable skills, I was competing in industries that literally had rivals on every street and corner. Coffee and food were perhaps some of the most prevalent business in New York to the masses.

Spy was the one to point out the fact there was always going to be an optimal point of earning income until my personal time with my kids began to suffer. Spy was able to detect weak points with Therapist towards targets that had strained family ties as their work consumed them. Too much network was a lifestyle in itself, it needed constant managing or a team of people I could trust.

Therapist was very keen on giving me a warning on letting me new powers consume me until I began to only think of more and more. It could lead to an unhealthy mindset of constantly feeling I could always do more. It could become self-destructive as a personality trait.

I shivered as the kids trudged off to sleep. Their father may be an asshat and wearing a magic cape that was able to let him lift cars, but their education was still important to me until they earnestly sat me down and said it just wasn't working.

I had hopes for my kids, I didn't have their futures planned…

As things became quiet, I peered out the window as the first hints of rain started. I got a charge as a crack of lightning lit up the sky. New York became a creepy white-lighted series of monoliths where its gothic structure caused shapes to pop out. Gargoyles, signboards, devilish statues, and more.

I was going to put the point into something and go to bed. Natasha and Steve may have made it sound simple, but I had a feeling Jack being Jack was going to make it anything but.

Seeing as Therapist Sandra was going to be around forever. I might as well make sure she was damn right on the mark. If I was going to address some serious issues in my life and others, I wanted to know what the hell she was going on about at times.

The star gleamed brighter and the knowledge began to uncurl like a tightly woven rope, allowing me space to slide down its ever growing depths. The human mind was a special thing and it had, since its first inkling, done everything it could to break itself simply to see what would happen.

It was a sort of threshold of knowledge where it stopped going from simply 'I could pick this up in a few months or years if I tried' to things like experiments specifically designed to snap people in ways that made my stomach churn. Some of which I knew from my last layers of knowledge weren't public knowledge or so unstandard you'd have to know where to look for it.

Every sick experiment yielded useful results on how to, in turn, put someone back together. I got hints of ideas about how to go about programming commands into people. It was woefully incomplete and needed years to perfect. Along with that, I got the equal amount of detection and unprogramming means.

It was all cold-war sleeper agent stuff, but there were lights dotted about this dark art. Ways to ease a damaged mind, kindness I was able to offer to those who suffered from the worse the brain could offer. Just beyond that, almost out of reach felt something else… ideas of more.

I slowly sketched something out. It was highly amusing, almost a toy that some bored engineer who dabbled in the mind would design. It was, at its core, just a handheld light that you might attach on a bike. The lights inside moved in a certain hue and pattern to inflict the slight allure or if I reversed it… repellant. It needed to be shined in the eyes and it didn't affect many, but it was interesting.

It was like one of those fun illusions on paper or looking at a realistic image of a high drop and getting vertigo. I snorted and shook my head. What a weird idea. I went to bed, folding the design into a nearby drawer.

As I slept, I had the image of those hypnotic lights on giant screens or on vehicles, making them harder to hit or driving people into cheer. Then suddenly, I was cooking coffee cake and my boss was Emma who demanded more whipped cream on everything.

Therapist Sandra bowed out around then.

I was handing out a barrage of coffee, deciding I loved working a rain day. Everyone wanted to be warm and no one wanted an 'ice cube' anything. The rush was over quickly, people becoming a little more familiar that I was going to soon be knowing their usual without question. Some orders you just 'learned'. The big junker of a coffee machine behind the counter spluttered a few times, rumbling slightly before it carried on working.

"She's been working hard, but every work's knees give out sooner or later," Mr Geoff patted the machine with a sigh. My coffee knowledge covered the use of the machine, but it didn't touch the repair or the maintenance. It simply wasn't in the cards unless I wanted to build more rustic and much slower open fires with metal pots over them and hand grinding…

The beast of a machine would last, but I had doubts that it would be 'for long'. Mr Geoff assured me that he kept the thing on a payment and insurance so it wouldn't shut the Brewer simply to get a new one. Mr Geoff's family business was well respected by those who could repair and replace such machines.

"The trick is, you don't go for the fancy bells and whistles. Every additional feature you cut shaves $300 off the end cost. Every year a new model comes out and eventually I get one with a feature I don't have to pay for down the line. If it pours coffee, you're gold. If it does more? A bonus, but don't think you need more than the first one," Mr Geoff explained deeply.

Barista Sandra grudgingly admitted that it was fair. A good cup of coffee was the end result of the growth, the bean, the treatment, the season, and more. Adding 10 sugars in the end was the sick joke to her.

As the day wound down, I half-expected Foggy to reappear, but in the end, it was a familiar looking shape in a jacket and another cap. Steve looked around the place, clearly enjoying the old style that hadn't changed in about 50 years.

"Sorry for the delay. I wasn't sure if you might have let slip I would pop in," he admitted and at my blank surprised look he grinned.

"You forgot I said I might," he said without doubt. I winced, but if anything it seemed to delight the man for some reason.

Damn you, 6AM starts. Making yesterday seem like a weird fever dream.

"My mind shut off when the lunch rush hit. In that space you have enough mind space for 'decaf, coffee with two milks, espresso made with enough dislike it has a kick'," I explained before I gestured to the machine and Steve raised a brow.

"Surprise me. I know enough about coffee that it's not tea," he said generously, putting a $20 note down.

"Add the change to the tip jar," he said before I could feel annoyed about breaking a $20 with what was left in the register. Ah Steve, he was so good to me.

"And for Natasha," I asked casually. Steve looked around as if expecting to see the woman in question. I just knew she wouldn't be too far behind if Jack was her 'task'.

"I don't think I've ever seen Natasha eat or drink anything unless she was too tired to care about living," Steve admitted.

"I'll make her a black with no sugar," I said finally and got to work.

"Break time," Mr Geoff said abruptly as I got the drinks ready. I raised a brow at him. I had a break and there was stuff I could wash.

"Pretty girl by the window gets the idiots to flash cash," he said, the lamest excuse I had ever seen.

"Thank's Mr Geoff. You're a sweet one," I said and took the drinks over to Steve as my boss let out a disgusted noise at my comment.

But I didn't hear him arguing.

"I like this place. It feels familiar. A lot of shops have this sort of sleek aesthetic or go heavy in the wood. It comes off a little strong," Steve said as I placed down his coffee. It was a nice blend. It was a little like chocolate, but had an aftertaste that settled quickly. Steve didn't need to taste coffee all day if he was new to it. It could ruin his lunch.

Natasha walked in, lifting the cup as she took a quiet corner as her perch, watching us with unscruitable eyes as she had the best position to case the joint but out of view of the windows or clear shots.

She lifted the cup and drank the coffee, her eyes never leaving mine.

It wasn't trust, not by a long shot. This was a pure and simple 'you wouldn't poison me because you have too much to lose and you wouldn't ruin your boss' business and Steve's friendship'. It was pragmatism at its best.

Relying more on my limits than my gift.

My revenge would come in the fact I would ruin coffee for the rest of Natasha's life in comparison. Berlin? Crap. Paris? Crap. Some tibetian monk temple in the Asian wilderness? C.r.a.p.

"Were you born in New York?" Steve asked and it surprised me that he was asking about me rather than if I talked to Jack or had issues. It was… a nice surprise.

"No, I came up from Ohio when I was young. My Mom was single like me and I never knew my Dad. My Mom passed when I was 16 and I met Jack not long after as I decided if I wanted to keep going with school or spread out. Jack and my own silly mistakes saw Nico being my priority. 17 years later, here we are," I said easily.

"I was a Brooklyn kid. I had it rough cause I was the scrawny kid," he said and it was only due to physical fitness and understanding of how much men typically could pack on with extreme effort that stopped gawking. The human body could do insane things, but I was sure Captain America had some other talents to stand out.

He had that shield if I remember right. But I didn't want to know about Captain America really. Steve was a lot funnier.

"-So, Bucky had me by the legs as he lowered me into this sewer drain to get his dad's keys back. He dropped me when this pretty girl walked past. I stank for days," Steve grinned, his cup empty as he smiled.

"Were you always up to trouble?" I asked pointedly, making him purse his lips and screw up his face as if 'trouble' was too much of a strong word.

"I had boy adventurers," he corrected before he shrugged.

"I joined the military young and the world back then was not slowing down. I picked up a lot of good lessons and friends. I needed it in the coming years. But I don't want to talk about the war," he said before he winced.

"Except I was the one who brought it up. Sorry, people ask and… yeah," he trailed off awkwardly. I was resisting every instant of psych checking his words. I could and I'd learn a lot, but Steve wasn't coming to me as a psychologist. There was a careful admittance of power and trust people allowed therapists when they invited them to aid them.

It was that open trust that let progress be made. Using it casually over coffee was both irresponsible, and likely to be picked up and make Steve retreat. If he wanted a psych evaluation, he'd get one.

"Well, when you're not being… busy. Tell me what you'd like to do," I encouraged and he took the subject change with great relief.

"Art and working around the old gyms. They're relaxing, but I like art. It was a great hobby to have when you were travelling all over… doing things. Pencils and paper were easy to get. I was thinking of seeing where I could take it, but trying to get into a class without special treatment or becoming a target is… a hurdle," he admitted.

I didn't have an art Sandra so my expertise there was shot.

"You can do it online," I suggested and Steve shrugged.

"A friend, Tony, tried. But it felt so impersonal, empty of that teacher-student connection. A little soulless. I love the classroom environment and getting out to see what I can do so sitting behind a screen knowing I was purposely hiding who I was while trying to take a class about expressing myself feels sad," he said after a while then gave me a smile.

"It's not your problem," he promised.

"If it's fun, then just doing it when you have time is good enough. You don't need some master's approval to enjoy art," I said, trying to express a sense of earnest honesty to my words.

"But how would I know if I was getting any better?" Steve asked, his open and expressive face leaning in with a slight tease.

I leaned in to mirror him.

"Just show me sometime. I can be cruelly brutal. I am a mother. My powers of making macaroni and glue art seem like the greats are not to be ignored," I said, voice heavy with authority.

There came an almighty crash as a massive light fixture from the building above smashed into the black SUV that Steve and Natasha rode in on, the thing screaming its alarm as the shattering of metal and glass filled the street.

My mouth dropped open as Spider-Man flew past, his web caught on something fast moving, dragging the spider hero along for the ride, smashing him into parked cars. I looked around and Steve and Natasha were simply gone, out the door and moving like every inch of them was primed for trouble at any given time. To be fair, I wasn't too unfamiliar with it now.

Spy Sandra occasionally made me tense when people got too close I didn't know.

I stuck my head out to see Spider-Man vanishing with an almighty cry as he scrambled to run along the side of a building as the fluttering of a red cape dragged him higher and higher. Spider-Man shot the web across the street and there was a moment of standstill as the two webs trapped Jack slightly. Spider-Man tensed and began to reel Jack in. Then whatever he stuck to on the street, it looked like a piece of the sidewalk, cracked away. It was damn impressive his web didn't break first.

Mr Geoff put a hand on my shoulder.

"Us normal people would just get in their way when they're like that. Let them go," he cautioned as if I had any way to keep up with Steve running like a piston engine, Spider-Man's webs, or whatever Natasha did since she just vanished.

It was frustrating that I could be 'big-brain' time Sandra, but in the end I couldn't stop the madness ahead.

A charge lit up my mind as if it were some consolation prize.

What I could do was talk and once I got ahold of Jack, I would talk him down.

I had to.

I reached for a new skill of persuasion. The new star bloomed and the knowledge of the silver-tongued devil and doe-eyed trickster leapt at me.

I swallowed as I learned that it wasn't so much making people agree to my idea, but trying to convince them that the idea was theirs and I just happened to encourage it. I couldn't make people fit my way so it was better to make my way make sense in their distortion of the world.

In the end, they'd do what I would say, but it would be agreeable. This wasn't deal making or negotiation. This made the unwilling into the listening.

It could all fall apart in one word or become someone's reality.

It was a destructive power if I could do more than play word games at the best of time at this level.

Spycraft loved it, Law loved it, Psychology saw its potential and danger, and weirdly Physical Fitness adored it.

Go figure.

Like all knowledge, there were places for it. I'd rather have it when someone was threatening to kill themselves or if someone had a gun to my head. It's place, however, didn't extend to anyone I liked. The one good thing about my power that there remained a barrier between me and this knowledge. It integrated on a factual level, but I was never influenced by it to a degree when I was a person to use it as if I cultivated them myself.

I waited for Steve to come back.

But he didn't and I worried.

I was perhaps far less worried and more pissed to find Jack in Emma's room, one eye opened as Emma looked guilty at the floor.

"I used my new power to convince her to let me sleep here after getting chased all day. She's a great kid and you're going to be brainwashed to increase her allowance," Jack said lazily.

"The Cape doesn't have mind control powers over others, just you," I said testily. Emma stepped forward.

"I let him in. Please, he looked lost," she explained and Jack sat up with a twitch and the cape was a much brighter silver colour than before. Liquid sliver.

"Be angry at me. Emma was just trying to help me. I came here to um… get rid of the cape. Then we can work things out and go from there," he said brightly and even Emma looked doubtful.

"Ems, I love you but I need to talk to your father alone. Can you go to Nico's room," I asked, not wanting Emma to see the ugly side of us. Not any more.

My angel went off, giving her dad one last… hopeful look before she shut the door.

I turned on Jack with a cool expression. Pissing him off when he was this deep into the magic was a bad idea, but I couldn't just throw myself at him either. I couldn't do that.

I sat on the bed with him. Not close, but not too far.

"How did you get past the Watchers? I heard they were pretty good," I began with a subject rather than an attack. Jack was tense but he rolled his neck.

"Dropped in on the roof and just walked down. Rain gave me cover," he said as he bounced his knee. I hated when he did that. It was one of most annoying habits when he was nervous.

Natasha was going to eat dirt. Trained protectors my ass.

"Jack. I can't relax with that cape on. If you want to talk, can you at least take it off and put it on the side? How can we talk if I'm worried you can take off or accidentally bend Emma's bed frame," I said, careful not to say 'in case you hurt me'.

I couldn't challenge his self perception as a good person or shut down his idea of getting back together. He'd run into that cape and never come out.

Jack licked his lips.

"It's really hard, Sandy. I feel horrible without it. I feel so weak!" he tried to explain and I looked him in the eye.

"And how do you think you make me feel with it on?" I asked softly. That stung him. A moment later he undid the clasp, but didn't 'take' it off. Sort of letting it hang off his frame more than anything.

"Jack, you know we could never have a normal life if you keep that thing. I won't lie and say we can solve our issues, but for Emma's sake, I'm willing to let you in somewhat," I said and Jack nodded as if he expected that. I mentally sighed, having avoided the trap of trying to please him. The cape was twisting Jack, it wasn't totally robbing him of his ability to see through a lie.

"We could run," he offered as though we were still teenagers. I shook my head sadly. It must be glorious to be Jack Star. To be free as the wind.

I'd keep my field and fruits, they rewarded me more than any wind.

"We can't. I won't. Emma and Nico have lives here. Do you want them to resent you because you couldn't give up some magic cape that's caused you nothing but problems?" I asked him as a person who could have been their father once.

He slumped.

"Sandy, I've really fucked up," he said quietly and I picked up one of Emma's teddy bears and held it out to him.

"Fix it. Take the right option and drop the bad one," I said simply. He trembled then the cape dropped to the floor and Jack left the room, holding the bear. He got as far as the hall when he acted a little strange. He put the bear down and looked back at me.

"I should go. I need to go somewhere," he announced as if he wasn't really thinking about his words. He turned to head to the front door and I turned to see the cape…

It was beautiful, now the nearby lamp light shimmered on it just right. I thought it had been raggedy and weird, but it looked warm and it had powers so I'd never be helpless again.

I would be-

'A slave to a magical artifact,' Therapist Sandra said briskly. She looked annoyed to be personified again but ignored it for the moment.

I'd have more control than Jack surely? I had great control.

A new Sandra stepped into the light, she had a sort of calming demeanor like Therapist Sandra who was rubbing her eyes at another attempt at me handing the knowledge by assigning them characteristics.

This Sandra looked like she would set me down to drink coffee and just chat.

Social Sandra was soft, but she was undeniable.

'We need to talk about this, you know that," she began, merging and formulating with Therapist Sandra until a whole new being of impeccable comfort and logic existed.

Logic Sandra was a new beast and she applied everything to what I was feeling, why, and where it would lead.

In the end, it only took some words to make me shove the cape into a spare shoe box.

'What if Emma sees it?' Logic Sandra asked and the idea of this thing hurting her chilled me out of any euphoria of being a hero. I taped the box over and over. Unable to quite escape the allure fully but able to channel the manina into a frenzied 'trap it' mood until I saw Steve bending down. The shoe box was now a liteiral ball of duct tape that I had no hope of opening without a hacksaw.

"Sandra, if you convinced Jack to give up the cape through words, tricking him. I didn't think the cape might consider that a form of stealing. I am so sorry, but can you give it to me. I am sworn to return it so I won't be taken by it," Steve said gently, his usually handsome face in distress at my state. I had tape stuck to myself, some of my nails were bleeding from the frenzied wrapping, and I was shaking.

I only noticed I barred the bedroom door with a dresser, stopping Emma from coming back in. When had I lost time? When I had done that? Steve had to kick his way in, which explained the shattered door.

I had lifted the ball of tape and put it in Steve's hand and a moment later I snapped out of some haze. A spiderweb of murky lucidity had settled over my senses and I hadn't even noticed it.

And to think I called Jack weak for using it…

"It's a magic curse, it ramps up and you just got the worst of it," Steve said, sighing as he patted the tape ball with a relieved noise. Then my apartment was filled with men in tactical tight suits and odd weapons.

"Howling Commandos. They specialise in the weird stuff," Steve whispered like I didn't need to know, but he wanted me to know. The name made him grimace.

Weird stuff like the cape or weird stuff… like me?

A man with a bowler hat and a rather impressive moustache came over with a grim expression.

"Rogers. We got it secured?" he asked then eyed me as if he was evaluating me as a threat.

"Dugan. It's secure. It also caused damage to Miss AeKure here and her home. I expect a full compensation," Steve said back and Dugan's lips twitched.

"Yeah, the cape managed to kick in three doors somehow, I suppose it also did a bad vibe so we can throw that in. Ma'am," he nodded to me.

"You never saw us, but you might wanna ask your practitioner to go easy on the wards, your ex nearly threw himself down the stairs in a rush to get out. Hell of a repel ward though," he admitted.

"I don't… he was just in here," I protested, confused and lost… and sore.

"The Cape of Mercury is just more magical. It was already doing the whammy on the guy. The ward had no chance," Dugan explained then tipped his hat and walked away as if goodbyes were immaterial and a shame.

The only person who was here a lot and hated Jack this much was…

"Nico Marcus Jacob AeKure," I said, eyes narrowed.

All this time he had been telling me he had been reciting Finnish metal band lyrics in his room when I overheard the strange chanting.

Still, how do I be mad at my son for casting magic, which I knew nothing about, and also raise his allowance for making Jack stay away so neatly?

It was a mother's dilemma.

"Come on, I'll clean you up," Steve said as he led me to the bathroom.

On the other hand. Magic smagic. Steve was going to put bandaids on my curse inflicted booboos. I could spare 10 minutes. I had Emma in sight so I behaved. I just wanted my kids safe and home and for life to go back to being normal.

Well, Steve and Matt could stay. They were good weird.

6: The Son Returns! A Party?!

Not even an hour went by before a rather basic, but sturdy looking metal door replaced my shattered one along with a plain wooden one for Emma's bedroom. It was the same time the man, Dugan, confirmed a sizable payment had been set into my account. The number wasn't life changing, but if I didn't want to work for a few months…

Not that I would. That cash was going right into a savings account and used for when more weird stuff happened.

I was sad to see Steve go. He had been a reliable safe figure in this chaos, but his duty laid in another. He had to deliver that evil cape to someone. It was supposedly a nice magic artifact when it was where it should be.

I had doubts about that, but it wasn't my issue any longer.

Speaking of magic… Nico was due home soon. The idea that he had been dabbling in actual magic didn't concern me as much as the fact he kept it from me. I get teeangers begin to become independent and have secrets; I was one myself, but there was a difference between levitating a cup and warding my house against exs.

Not that I knew squat about magic.

I had a charge from the time I spent wrapping Satan's cape in tape so I could spend it now before my son got home…

Or I could wait until we talked. I could spend the charge on magic and Nico could say 'Mom, actually, I practise a rare art that your powers only know like 0.005% about because general magic is going to cover every aspect!'

Well, he wouldn't say it exactly like that, but I was destressing and my mind had been hammered hard today.

In the end, I waited.

I got a quick call by someone who didn't introduce them saying that Jack was going to flip on his employers to avoid jail time. He would be forever filed as the guy who stole a magic cape and caused havoc, but I don't think he was going to be flung into that serious sounding supermax prison offshore that was not long built- the Raft.

Jack would be free and Emma could see him, if she wanted. I wasn't going to press the issue. Jack had a lot of work to put in before I even wanted to speak to him.

When Nico returned home, staring at the metal door and the sight of my usually tidy (but chaotic) home looking like a herd of wildebeest had trampled through it, he looked at me with worry, but I gestured from him to sit down.

"I'm fine," I said firstly and that was enough to get the tension to leave his shoulders. I told Nico about what happened and he looked absolutely livid that Jack was not only in the house, but caused me to be near the discarded cape.

"He shouldn't have come here," Nico sighed looking tired.

"Your ward couldn't stop the cape," I said casually and he merely brooded for a moment. Slowly, he looked up at me with those bright blue eyes.

"Ward?" he echoed hollowly.

"I would prefer it if you just said you didn't want to talk about over trying to lie," I said sadly and he winced as if I hit him with a two-ton truck. I didn't mean to have that effect, but I had been through an ordeal myself and my own tact had slipped.

Nico shifted for a moment.

"Are you going to freak out cause I can do magic?" he asked after a moment and I shook my head.

"No. I just want to know you're safe and that you can talk to me. Though, if you're offering up baby goats…" I trailed off and Nico shook his head vehemently as if to shake the idea out of me.

"No! I'm a Wiccan. I don't offer up anything. Pain taints the idea behind what I do," he protested.

"You're a… witch?" I asked after a moment, trying to recall what little I knew about the word. Not much, as it turned out. Nico shrugged.

"Medicine men, healers, protectors, and wise people. It's not the most dramatic of the arts, but I really like it," he said as if I had said potions or casting fireballs was cooler.

I remember the story his friends had shared, how Nico stuck some sage into Peter's locker for his cold. It was leagues better than Nico summoning demons or cackling through the night throwing glitter bombs at people, but I was swarming with questions. I double checked to see if Emma was still out for her nap in her room before I leaned in.

"How did you even get into this?" I asked, latching on to the first question that came about.

"Alternative medicine at first. Kids got bullies and the nurses wouldn't always give a painkiller if they got hurt beyond a bruise. So, I just started looking for cheap alternatives. Herbs came up then as I researched those…" he trailed before shrugging.

"Medicines, herbs, and rituals kind of go together when you stick to light stuff. So, I started making salves for folks or teas and it stuck," he said, picking up speed now that he saw I wasn't going to explode and ban all magic in the house.

"I did that for a while then I just messed around with basic protection stuff and amulets. I can sometimes make those work when I do it right, but I do know how to cause harmless spells to go off. I can't hurt anyone because the way I work it is 'what I do to others is paid back to me twofold'. So, like Jack… I don't harm him. I just make him go away," he finished then looked down.

"Jack nearly fell down the stairs trying to get out. Are you saying you'd have to suffer for that?" I suddenly demanded, worried I'd see a sentient pair of stairs coming at Nico with a baseball bat for his legs.

"No. Intentions upon casting are keystone. Honestly and earnestly putting intention into the spell protects me from any consequences like that. If I honestly mean no harm but Jack got hurt due to his own actions, like donning a magic cape to force himself into the house, that isn't on me," Nico promised, taking my hand with a gentle soothing tone.

"And this ward isn't going to do anything else, right?" I asked cautiously. Nico blew out a sigh.

"I wish. I can't layer another protection spell without the first going wonky. I heard in certain circles that it's easy for others, but it feels impossible. So, I decided locks would do for thieves and we could get an exterminator for any pests. Lesson one of magic is that magic isn't the only answer. Sometimes, you don't need a moonlit blessed-twice-washed rare medicinal herb salve when a bandaid does the job," Nico said bluntly.

"Magic plant goops doesn't come in Iron-Man or Hulk colours," I agreed, feeling slightly better about the whole thing. I listened as Nico explained how he didn't do more than harness natural energy around him for any actual magic.

The whole thing, he explained, was a tiny narrow aspect. Powerful sorcerers could use the entire element of existence or dimensions to fuel themselves, but that was a power plant vs Nico's potato battery and he wasn't eager to jump into it.

Wherever he learned his stuff, the horror stories came with it.

Body snatchers, mis-fired spells, curses so horrible it was ghoulish, and more. I thought as a teenage boy, he'd be into the more destructive and showy magic, but Nico surprised me with his maturity.

"Jack would have gone for fireballs," was all Nico said in the end.

He tried to teach me how to 'feel' the energy, but even with his hand in mine, giving me tiny jolts of what he said was magic… I couldn't.

I thought maybe I was talentless and Nico returned from his room with a crystal on a string.

"I thought that was the thing you won at the arcade," I accused. Nico nodded with a shrug.

"It was. Not every magical aid is made from dragon bones or weaved by the gods to cause trouble," he said before he focused the crystal on my hand, the dull insides remaining dull.

"You might be too ol- developed as a person. That or your connection to everything around you is weird. That can happen I guess. You're a self-development person, you always just work on your own stuff," Nico said, trying to ease me down gently.

'Don't blame us. You're the one who invited us here… Besides, magic is a bore. Why alter reality when you can make coffee? Us together is like the cream, sugar, legally important and well treated coffee beans from the unique soil of where a meteor crashed into the earth causing beans grown there to give a high like never before… and milk,' Barista Sandra swooned.

I locked her in a traumatic childhood memory lane, listening to her fading screams as she vanished for later. Logic Sandra didn't say anything, but I could sense her therapy… just waiting.

But now I had to decide if I would tell Nico about my gift in return or wait until I had something to show for my efforts, like something I definitely shouldn't know or a device I could build or something.

"I have to admit the last few days… I've been a little different too," I said and Nico eyed me, looking nervous.

"Do you need… stuff? I don't know everything about… the pause… but I want to help so if you need medication or hot water bottles, I can get those for you," Nico said, weakly, but with determination.

"I'm 33, not 48" I said, more aghast than upset. Had I aged? Was I getting old?!

"I can pull knowledge from other dimensions, other mes. A few times a day and I can learn almost anything that is a field or a study. I picked law and some skills about being a spy," I said grouchy as Nico stared at me.

"That could be…" he stopped then inhaled.

"I'll believe you because you just believed in me. That means a lot so… yeah. Knowledge. Does it hurt? Are you feeling overwhelmed?" Nico asked, voice lowered as he checked me for signs of stress.

"No, it's quite smooth. It just happened when I got fired. I kind of had a break-down then it happened," I said, wondering if the power was magical in nature?

"Sounds like a X-gene stressor. But it could also just be one of those weird changes. People across the world have been getting them according to history class. Metas is the new term since the old one was…" Nico trailed off and winced as he said it.

"Inhuman."

I offered to show him how it worked since I had a charge and he shrugged, saying he'd see if I gave off any unusual magical energy while he scanned.

The subject he chose was a rather… odd one.

I put the charge into something he called 'Krav Maga'. I had never heard of it, but in the fairness of the experiment, Nico said he wouldn't explain what it was either.

The star bloomed and I knew right away that Nico had played a fast one on me.

The thing was a fighting style. My knowledge expanded slightly including a rough background of the art as well as driving me forward to what was equivalent to a couple of lessons and light practise. The art was a combination of a few things- boxing, street fighting, martial arts, and wrestling.

There was fighting, sparring, wrestling, and then there was this style. It was mean and it didn't not screw around. Even my knowledge would hesitate to see I knew the theory of a white belt, but what I knew already was the fight had to be avoided and if it couldn't? I would end it as fast as possible.

Spy Sandra took elements into herself, combining it with what little she had on personal takedowns. Gym Rat Sandra seemed to merge with it to become Warrior Sandra, a no-nonsense teacher who sought perfection through the body and muscle.

I looked at him and at my expression, Nico stared back in wonder.

"It worked, didn't it?" he said with amazement.

"I know the idea behind how to deprive oxygen to a man's brain to knock him out. I thought it sounded like yoga or some meditation thing," I said and he grinned.

"There is a lot of stretching and mind focusing in it," he pointed out. After a moment, he swallowed once.

"You aren't… you could learn a lot of things and become really important. That should really make you happy," he attempted to smile and he sounded off as if my happiness was something he couldn't be a part of.

"The moment anything comes between us? It's gone. I could fix every problem in the world, but if it meant only seeing you once a week then I wouldn't do it. Nico, you and Emma are my number one concern," I promised.

I went to hug him and when he leaned in, I pinched a nerve near his arm making him squeal, his voice reaching pitches only tickling could achieve.

"I break men now. Remember that next time you steal my ice-cream," I said with glee as he twisted and gasped as my fingers went for his side.

Wiccan protection magic vs mother's new Krav Maga knowledge about the body?

The winner was clear when Nico tapped for mercy.

I ended up not telling Emma right away.

As horrible as it was, if she was desperate to hang around with Jack for the foreseeable future that meant two things. One, Nico's ward had to go. I was not delivering Emma to Jack on the man's beck and call.

And, two… I didn't want Emma having to hold this back from Jack. The guy could get Emma to talk and talk and if he learned about my new power? He'd see dollar signs written all over me. It starts innocently enough, a project here and there about construction or repairs, then it would move on to improving security or undoing them… then it would be slightly illegal entry and growing drugs…

Then it would never stop.

And Jack's ability to keep a secret extended to the three digit number on a check. I didn't want it to get out that I could learn almost anything. The thought occurred to me later that night that I could just use courts or forbid Emma from seeing Jack…

But nothing in me, not a single aspect of myself, saw that ending well. If she was under ten? Maybe, but 11 was just too late for some things to fly. Jack could easily turn it into me being the villain and luring Emma away when she was older.

I rubbed my face when Logic Sandra even compounded the understanding that trust started young and the more I removed the ability for Emma to make choices with me involved… the more she started making them without me for the sake of it.

But… the moment Jack did one thing, a single thing, to endanger Emma? I was going to use my new knowledge to cause certain parts of his anatomy to twist on themselves to cut off circulation and die.

The idea was possible, but I didn't know the details.

But what was a few charges in the name of a mother's rage?

I had another shift tomorrow and enough free time to just put this whole mess behind me. With the payment from the 'Howling Commandos' and my lawyer boys working Oscorp over. I had a feeling money wasn't going to be an issue for a while in terms of running out.

I sipped my coffee and looked out at New York as Nico moved some herbs out into the kitchen to get more sunlight. He had been using the roof, but the birds were a menace apparently.

If Nico ever needed help? I wasn't sure I'd be able to ever use magic, but I could master the theory well enough that the difference was only noticeable when the time came to make the magic happen.

I was sure that most spells and magic were 90% preparation and 10% actual power unless you were some super magician and just altered reality to make it happen.

But if magic capes, witches, and more were real? What else was in New York alone?

Beyond the villains, Spider-Man, Daredevil, and the others.

I guess I wouldn't be bothered by them as long as I stayed in my sleepy coffee shop world.

Thank goodness for small mercies.

Foggy and Steve were an odd pair to see doing the guy thing.

It was a guy thing cause they were giving each other the stare and jaw jutting as they nodded. I looked between them.

"Are all my customers coming here for you now?" Mr Geoff said gruffly.

"We just had a rush of weirdos who all drink abominations. Allow me two lifelines," I fired back and he dismissed with a handwave.

"I'm her friend," Steve said as I turned back. Foggy made 'ah I see' motions before gesturing to his case.

"I'm her lawyer," he said as if it was no big deal.

"I'm her," I interrupted, making them both turn to me, "buy a coffee or she'll not talk to either of you," I said, smiling.

"Same as before-"

"Oh, that thing you made last-"

They spoke at the same time before looking at each other again.

"Go sit and talk about cowboys," I shooed them away as I mentally got the drinks ready. Barista was working away in my mind, knowing what things to do and what to improve over last time. I think I heard Foggy make a large noise when Steve finally took off his cap and glasses, but they quieted down.

If I remembered right, Foggy knew Thomas Halloway because he knew some guy called the Two-Gun Kid, a cowboy. Steve knew Thomas, ergo, they could talk.

Really, just tell two guys to talk about the wild west and their heroes and you could leave them alone for hours as you went shopping or had a bagel.

I wasn't sure what surprised me more when I turned around back to the counter; the sight of Natasha or her small nod of greeting.

"Sorry for leaving without saying something yesterday," she said, leaning on the counting, using her elbows so both of her hands were free.

"It's fine. You let Steve stick around long enough to calm me down," I said back to her, already making her drink from the last time. I could see the crisp note in her hand already.

"You thinking I can make Steve do anything is a compliment. Captain America does good. It's what makes Steve himself. I just learned to let him be the hero so we can get down to business," she said smoothly.

"But I don't want to talk about Steve. I want to talk about you," she said, her body language never changing, but I felt she was being 'business' now.

"And what have I done to get your attention?" I asked easily, returning the same nonchalance as she was offering me.

"You resisted an artifact designed to be attractive. You were a calm negotiator with someone under its influence, you were able to spot a threat, but you're extremely awkward. You have… had… no defence training, and your ability to spot the most basic of tricks and traps is pretty bad. I'd say a natural, but you've obviously been practising on your own. Talent like that is noteworthy," Natasha said as she watched me pour coffee and mix.

"Sounds like a recruitment drive. You want me in your squad?" I asked, pouring over her words with alarm. She seemed blunt enough, but I don't think she'd approach me. Natasha seemed like an individual operator over a team when she could manage it.

This felt above Natasha.

"Not my squad. My job is more… specialised and its not great for keeping your life and people involved. I worked for SHIELD. An organization dedicated to many levels of defence. New divisions open all the time. It used to be more mobile, but having certain teams in cities is attractive as operatives go. I can only guess, but you could be seeing offers as a low term worker. Pouring over threats, checking out local reports, and such. Not the most glamorous of jobs, but like I said, you have talent," Natasha said so calmly and without false praise that I honestly suspected a lot of it, not all of it, was the truth in her mind.

I had a job and inviting more danger into my life wasn't exactly the most inspiring thing when I just told Nico I put him and Emma first.

Mr Geoff had been good to me and if Jack's case was the norm?

I'd rather bitch about ice cubes for the rest of my life.

Besides, if the guy in charge wouldn't even ask me in person? That was just rude.

"Thanks, but I'm looking to de-escalate my life, not the other way," I said, but Natasha just nodded.

"You have kids. I might have thought less of you if you just jumped in, but I'll report back. After this coffee," she amended, taking the black coffee to her 'corner'.

This little shop was getting fuller with people I knew by the moment. I finally had a break to sit between Steve and Foggy. I let Steve in on my case since he had shown nothing but good manners and I thought I could trust him.

"Oscorp is settling. Due to several inconsistencies and shady dealings. The judge, which I swear was going to be dirty, ended up whistle clean as he demanded Oscorp provide justification for your unemployment and when we had the emails…" Foggy trailed off, grinning. At the mention of the judge, I saw Natasha flick her hair, catching my eye with a long stare.

I think this was her attempt at breaking bread with me over her first introduction. Well, if Natasha was going to splurge and scare a judge to keep me on her good side, who was I to argue? Then again, scaring the judge benefited screwing Oscorp over somewhat so it was a shared bonus, but I take my slice humbly.

The settlement figure made my headspin.

"We could have pushed for more, but it's a bit like gambling, you put too much on the table and the other side has to challenge it on duty alone," Foggy said easily.

"Y-you sure you don't want paid?" I asked, voice faint. Foggy grinned but then blew out a sigh.

"Nope. Thanks to this case, we got clientings lining up. You could give me half and I wouldn't be able to spend it until next year. We're running out of filing space cause people think we can work miracles for cheap, but a lot of cheap builds up fast," he amended.

"You do good work," Steve added, looking pleased for me, but not even eyeing the figure as if the cash was less important than my victory in his mind.

"Nah, we got lucky. Everything in this case just fell into place. It was like everyone that could help, did. It was harder to screw it up than it was to win," Foggy admitted to us with a sheepish expression.

"Besides, you had us over for dinner. A meal that good covered your basic fee," Foggy reminded me after a moment. Steve arched an eyebrow and leaned in as if to ask for gossip.

"And how was Sandra's food? Her coffee is great," he said, smiling at me eyeroll. Foggy's eyes glazed.

"I was cheese heaven and pasta angels carried me to Valhalla to dine like a warrior," he said with near reverence.

It was mac and cheese. I didn't even make dessert.

"You have met a terrible fate, haven't you?" I asked Foggy sadly and when he looked at me, confused, I nudged him.

"You're drooling over an easy home cooked meal. Your eating experiences can't have been that good before that,I said dryly.

"Well, we just won the big case. I think that calls for round two, no?" Foggy said slowly and I sighed. I leaned back and yelled across the space to Natasha who stared back coolly.

"Grouchy spy woman, mysteriously appear in my house about 6PM. Food is up and you can stare at it in good nature until you're sure it's not toxic," I called and turned to Steve without waiting for an answer.

"I think she's supposed to topple some tyrannical government tonight," Steve said, trying not to smile at me and Natasha strolled past like a silent breeze.

"It's already toppling. I'll be back once it hits the ground and in time for dinner," she corrected and was gone.

"Is she… joking? Sandra, was that really a spy? Hello?" Foggy asked, looking bewildered and a little cute.

"It's just a small government topple," I said innocently.

"A home cooked meal sounds great. Last year, all I had were rushed takeouts or Tony's… banquets," Steve grimaced so heavily I could feel the nearest bald eagle shrivelling up and turning to dust.

"I heard everytime Stark throws a party, the world economy shifts 1% in a noticeable way," Foggy told me as I looked at Steve in confusion.

Steve suddenly brightened.

"If you invited Natasha, may I bring a 1 as my guest?" he asked suddenly and I saw no harm other than needed to figure out if I had enough chairs in my home.

"I can't believe Captain America just asked you if he could bring a friend to your party," Foggy muttered under his breath, amused.

"Steve did and sure! Who's the friend?" I asked, wondering if I should go all out tonight.

"My friend, Bruce. He's not a fan of Tony's party scene either," Steve explained and I saw no harm. I didn't know of any Avenger by the name of 'Bruce'.

"Might as well ask Nico if he wants his friends over," I sighed good naturedly before I decided I might as well accept I would be picking up folding chairs for the extra guests.

As I got back to work, I finally got my next charge.

I knew exactly where I was going to put this…

I began to grow my Cooking star to new heights!

It was again an elective collection of knowledge. This time came with complimentary food and styles. What went best with what, but also surprise hits that felt it shouldn't go together but were a sleeper hit.

The art of dessert definitely grew more this time, letting me see three-tiered moist chocolate cake with soft sponge and cream topping that when bitten into would release a small, but powerful ooze of chocolate filling. Every bite sinful as it was holy.

But like psychology, there was something else just slightly forming. Ideas that were… well, I would be ashamed to be seen with in public outside emergencies. Certain mixtures of hot sauce that if pressured through a strange series of canisters to a handheld nozzle would reach, briefly, a point of what to distort metal, but only have a slight roadrash on people. The stuff was almost useless in any concept, but the device was able to sap with cold soy sauce that briefly dipped below freezing point before returning to now.

I had in my mind… a backpack sprayer of condiments that briefly could be dangerous at five feet. I could dial them back to be mere sauce dispensers, but really…

I snorted to myself so hard I had to excuse myself into the bathroom as Steve, Foggy, and Mr Geoff shot me odd looks.

Fear me, I was 'Saucy Lady'!

7: The Dinner! A Bargain?!

Natasha, Steve, Steven's plus one, Matt, Foggy, my kids, and Peter. I should count the lucky stars that May was too busy to come as well or I might as well just knocked down a random wall in my house to fit them all in.

By the time I got home, I was brimming with ideas on what to cook along with a new Charge. It was a slow day with only two charges, but that was alright really. If my criteria for getting four charges a day was getting kidnapped and held hostage, I'd take the slow days.

The idea was interesting as if the more danger I was in, the more 'open' I was to development and change to survive. I wondered if there was a mindset I could tap into to mimic it or if that was asking for trouble. Logic Sandra wasn't sure exactly as powers through any 'sensible' logic out the window, but she did admit that purposely making myself feel like I was going to die all day until I went to bed would be stressful.

Since I was going to be cooking for one American Hero, one spy, two super lawyers, Nico's friend, and whoever Steve was bringing… I decided to cook two birds with one oven. I wanted to see what happened when I pushed a field further.

The star glowed brighter.

It was… odd to say the least. Before, when I gained knowledge, there was a masterful jump in skills. This was no less potent, but it felt I only went half the distance compared to others. Homecook, to line cook to head chef, but this jump was more akin to a head chef with a year under her belt.

A year as a master was still amazing, but it wasn't 10 years of culinary school as before. I would say that what I got was pure refinement. It was slight twists on recipes and ideas. I knew better and had a distinct understanding of my 'takes' on certain things. Things that would have taken a lot of time to get right and a lot of it, honestly, still needed perfecting.

As before, there came that odd collection of ideas but this time it was a lot smoother.

It was a bunch of 'hard ideas' that I could see being stripped and used elsewhere, but a lot of them just made my mind boggle as if I was looking at devices that emerged from some 60's comic book.

I could, with some finagling and prayer, make a cheese grater that could 'grate' almost any typical common metal like it was cheese. Salt and pepper shakers that I could turn into various clouds of sense denying chemical bombs. A spatula that could leverage something much heavier than myself and flip it.

Most of these items, even in my own mind, were so precariously made that they'd break after a few uses. I winced at the idea of some of them exploding or just failing at a bad time.

It was weird, I wondered if out there, somewhere… there was a 60's era Sandra making off with bags of money with her Flying Pan hoverboard? Shaking my head, I got to work on the food. I had hours before anyone showed up, but that much food would take time.

I wasn't going too fancy. With a large group of people you didn't know, the worst thing you could do, according to Chef Sandra, was make a table of untested or unique culture foods. I didn't even know allergies so I was outright avoiding seafood for the moment.

With the change I had, I decided a nice chicken roast would be good. It was chicken, veg, and gravy. I also had a nice lentil soup going for anyone who might be vegetarian. I was debating whether to fry some apple slices for any vegans but moved on.

Some people would just have to cut me some slack. I only had two hands.

With knife skills that moved almost on their own I had a collection of carrots, sprouts, and broccoli in a deep pan with the chicken. I peeled and placed a selection of moit looking potatoes around the chicken to absorb the juices that would flow in the heat along with the veg before I covered the whole thing up to cook away.

The gravy was going to be my star for the moment as I made it from scratch. The slowly thickening covering had hints of subtle herbs and seasoning, but it was made from some finely grounded chicken pieces that once mixed in gave the entire thing a pleasant tang that would soak into any potato or chicken it touched.

Checking on the chicken, I saw the thing was cooking well, the potatoes and veg around its edges getting a crisp look as I worked. The sweltering heat of the chicken meat made it drip and pool, but the taste of the meat was soaked into the veg and potatoes, not wasting a single drop as I got started on my soup.

Lentil soup wasn't all that hard, but since it wasn't going to have meat in it, I got creative. Pieces of potato would serve as the filling, but they would have a stronger seasoning to give the soup some character.

Then dessert… I had options, but I decided on a cream covered pie. The flavouring would be popping cherry and once I was done, the thing looked almost good enough to eat there and then and claim I hadn't made any dessert at all.

I turned to see two demonic looking goblins at my kitchen table, drooling like animals at me.

"Children," I said coolly and Nico swallowed once.

"You learned how to do all this… recently?" he asked and I knew he was being tactical. I gave him a raised eyebrow.

"And your mother can't have been a super cook all along?" I said back, appearing affronted.

"You are a great cook, but this is like 10 chefs working!" Emma pointed to everything I was cooking.

"Or just a really good one," I admitted. It really was doable by one, but I've never put this kind of work in before so what Emma should have said it was like '10 of you' than any chef.

I went and got changed, throwing on a nicer sweater and some less old jeans. I looked good, but I was silently glad I didn't have a fashionista in my head. I might become a perfectionist even here in my private sanctum.

The intercom buzzed and I heard Nico going to get it. My guests were arriving, it seemed.

Natasha smoothed down her casual outfit. It had been an awkward moment of putting something together. If it was Tony or a wealthy party then something low cut and distracting was the choice if Natasha wanted to be noticed.

If not, something unflattering. Her head down and dyed something dull.

If it was more a drug cartel then either appearing as some lost wife of a guest was a good option or if she wanted to be the mysterious belle, something that made her come off as nervous.

Most of it was in the act and body posture, but a dress went a long way in selling it.

What did you wear to an honest dinner invitation to a woman who sent the world's most confusing mixed messages?

Sandra AeKure was a strange woman. On one hand, there were hints that Natasha was looking at an operative or someone who had the beginning training of one. She had the watchful expression and unconsciously she set herself in defensivable positions. She also had the inability to hide any of it.

It didn't click. An operative wasn't semi-trained and just let go. Sandra could have been a potential and she just kept what she learned over time until she didn't think anything of it. The woman spent years doing low paid jobs and had kids.

That alone that was a sign something was weird. Infiltrators didn't have kids. They were an attachment and something you simply couldn't be trained to discard. The closest she had was Clint, the archer who was perhaps the few people Natasha could admit she trusted as much as she was able to.

Clint had kids, but he was a saboteur rather than an infiltrator, a key difference between them. Clint didn't get into people's life or pretend to be harmless. There was the same vibe there with Sandra. Someone who was trained to do something, but not inducted into the lifestyle.

So, Natasha decided to go in with something that was passable as 'nice' but not her usual style. There would be kids there and a low-cut would be strange. Steve would use a napkin to create a false sense of modest knowing the man.

As she was let in by the son, Nico, she mentally reviewed the new file. A practitioner warded the place and it hadn't taken long for SHIELD to track down reports of Nico AeKure purchasing large amounts of herbs and footage of him entering reported areas with confirmed low-threat sorcerers.

The daughter seemed normal as 11 years olds can be. Her education file reported she once bit another child for putting glue in her hair. Natasha would have gone for the child's eye so she didn't think it was a warning sign.

The home was the sort that told of tight money but every attempt of decorating it with signs of their family. It was terribly defended with open windows and unobscured view points throughout the place. Finding the right seat at the laid out table was going to be a nightmare, but if she put herself next to Steve, his huge form could offer a much needed shield.

Steve was here, the man was early to his dentist appointments, so he would be here before anyone else. He wore a nice shirt and khaki pants. It was almost modern, but Steve was a tribute to his time.

At his side was the true danger, Bruce. It was hard to remain onguard around him after everything last year, but you didn't just put the 'Hulk' out of your mind.

Bruce was nice as scientists went. A bit sarcastic and cynical as a defensive measure, but under that was a man who just wanted to be a good person which made his other self a strange mirror. The Hulk just wanted to be left alone, but trying to say anything good about the Hulk to Bruce was just going to aggravate him.

Tonight, he found a rumpled shirt that only looked half-worn and jeans. His hair was in his face as he looked around at the closed walls and kids with a constant wide-eyed expression as if he took the wrong step, he'd kill everyone and level the city block.

Sandra looked nice, but her focus seemed to be on the food and her guests rather than any concern about herself.

"Natasha," she nodded and Natasha appreciated she didn't drop what she was doing to come over and… hug her or something. Natasha didn't like being fussed over.

Natasha walked up to Bruce who had himself near a window. It was clear he was aiming to throw himself out of it at the first sign of trouble.

"I'm surprised Steve got you out of your lab," she admitted. Bruce gave her a look that could have been amused or miserable.

"I tried to refuse but he got that kicked puppy look," he explained, arms crossed as he fidgeted. He was waiting for something. Soldiers to attack him, helicopters to bomb the building, and more.

"Thunderbolt can't touch you now. Being an Avenger has some benefits other than beating up random Norse Gods," Natasha said and Bruce tensed for the longest of moments at the mention of General Ross.

A lot of armies attracted power hungry and destructive personalities. This was never clearer in the form of Thaddeus Ross. The man had an obsession of taking Bruce down like an animal.

Natasha didn't tell Bruce that the Avenger protection was on a thin-line and the General was constantly pushing for its termination.

"Yeah, well, you don't shake a year or two on the run off so easily," Bruce admitted before he inhaled.

"This lady can cook. She seems nice," he said as Sandra's daughter walked over, looking serious.

"Mr Banner, are you allergic to anything before you eat?" she asked seriously, taking her 'job' seriously. Bruce managed a small smile as he 'thought' about it.

"I'm not partial to broccoli. It's a bit green for me," he told her seriously. Natasha wondered how the man could go from such self-loathing to making light of his own condition in seconds.

"You only need to eat one or two before you can plead your case to not eat anymore. Please do your best," Emma said sympathetically as if she knew his pain.

She turned to Natasha as Bruce's mouth twitched.

"And you, ma'am?" Emma asked just as seriously.

"Cyanide," Natasha said curtly and Emma made a note on her phone.

"Got it," and she walked off. She looked up to see Bruce hiding a grin.

"Should we be worried that she knows how to spell 'cyanide' correctly or not?" Bruce asked as he pressed off the wall, attracted by the smell of cooking meat.

"It's fine. I could spell a lot worse at her age," Natasha said casually as she followed.

"No kidding…"

Bruce was a weird guy. I had the feeling he was a little… tense. He seemed to enjoy my chicken and my home-made gravy. For such a compact guy, he was putting away a lot once he dug in. It made me happy that even Natasha was enjoying it.

I sat between Matt and Bruce. Natasha was on Matt's left and across from Foggy. Nico and Emma sat across from each other and finally Steve made up the other end of the table with Peter, obscuring the window with his large frame. Natasha insisted on the seating arrangement as it let people 'get to know each better'.

"A scientist? What's your major?" I asked as Bruce paused mid-bite to think before he answered.

"Energy. I've been out of the profession for sometime for seclusion, so I doubt my qualifications are up to date or valid," Bruce said casually but he seemed to be dancing around the topic which I guess was sensitive.

"Banner…" Matt said and I watched as Bruce tensed ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I remember your work. Impressive stuff. If you need to reapply for your doctorate, I'd be happy to help you get the paperwork done," Matt said simply and Bruce swallowed once. The exchange made my spy skills tingle.

"It's in the process of being looked over. But a lawyer?" Bruce turned the subject back to Matt with a raised eyebrow.

"I've dealt with radioactive decay that looks harmless compared to some of the crooks you could go up against in New York. How bad is it?" he asked and I leaned back to allow myself to listen to everyone talking.

Matt was elegant in his talk, mentioning that corruption had seeped into the system, but he was confident in playing the devil's advocate for a lot of cases. Just down the table, Foggy had turned the charm on for a bemused Natasha.

"Ever had a ninja star thrown at you?" he asked and Natasha blinked once, an act so smooth I almost believed her innocence.

"Not recently," she joked and Foggy went on to explain how their office door had once been riddled with them for no reason. I hoped it wasn't because of me and the Oscorp case. Who'd want to throw stars at a blind man and a low-case lawyer?

Maybe Karen was some hero in disguise?

Emma, Nico, and Peter had ganged up on Steve who was demolishing his plate with a simple pleasure.

"Is it true you dive-bombed a jetfighter filled with bombs into the heart of Nazi occupied building? And Bucky was driving?" Nico asked excitedly.

"Did you meet Doctor Erskine. The stuff they made public about him is amazing. His chemical theories are still being proven correct today!" Peter gushed, leaning in as if he could read some chemical formula on Steve's forehead.

"Do you really get to wear a costume and save the day for a job?" Emma added.

Steve wiped his chin with a napkin, reaching for the leftover potatoes and more gravy.

"Uh, no. I didn't bomb anyone unless I knew it was a military complex and never in a jet. Yeah, he was a great guy, his work went over my head so I didn't know much about that, but I found him to be a very noble man. He wanted to help the world. And yes, I do get to do that for my job, but hopefully one day it's quiet enough the world doesn't need me," he said, directing a smile at his 'adorning fans'.

"What about you?" Bruce asked me suddenly and I looked back with a blank stare before I winced as I clearly zoned out of their conversation.

"Sorry, what was the question?" I asked apologetically. I would have to get the pie out soon, my guests were demolishing the food so cleanly that 'leftovers' was a joke. I got why Steve could put it away, but Bruce hid an enormous stomach under those rumpled clothes.

"We were just talking about the pros and cons of heroes wearing a mask. As a lawyer, some of their help can be as much a hindrance as an aid," Matt said easily. Bruce shrugged.

"Some of them got things to hide, but helping people is better than the next two-bit villain who doesn't pay their taxes," he said. I thought about it as I noticed a slight lull in the conversation at the table as people seemed to look at me.

Wow, no pressure people.

"There's good and bad. Some people don't want to be responsible for consequences like public destruction or being able to be sued, but there's also people who if they don't put on the costume can't do anything when real bad guys come stalking out the woodwork. They have a lot to lose but still do their best and I respect that. So, I think if heroes have some open communication with the public and try to be responsible or admit when they mess up… I'll fight for their right to wear a mask. I'm sure it's illegal and has all sorts of moral issues, but I'm not a big picture person. I'm just a small New York lady," I said, finishing with a shrug.

"The Daily Bugle is pretty insistent on Spider-Man being a threat to the city," Natasha said casually, her lips quirking. I met her eyes.

"That J.J Jameson has newspapers to sell in a dying print world to online headlines and podcasts," I fired back. Natasha toasted me with her water, giving me the victory.

"I think if there was any such reason to pin down hard working heroes and unmask them in the name of 'safety'. I'm not sure I could agree. If the government and politicians controlled who are the villains and the only one to allow heroes to act then it would be a disaster as it essentially turns the super community into a meta-army," Steve said with a heavy frown.

"Oddly specific," I pointed out. Steve shrugged.

"It was one of the things I overheard when my 'change' was successful. The idea of squads of people just like me. A bunch of super soldiers that would go where they were told. The idea is the same. Having a mask protects people from being conscripted by the law. If you weren't on the field fighting, you were being studied and any rebelling was traitorous and criminal," Steve put his knife and fork down.

Peter was giving him an odd look, but Nico looked like he agreed.

"Morality and Legality are not often friends, but it's a serious topic. Sandra, this gravy is amazing," Matt said, de-escalating the conversation.

"Matt, don't out the lady's secret recipe," Foggy said dryly before he turned to me, "his taste buds could decode world war 2 secrets if he licked them," he said seriously. Matt merely smiled.

As pie was handed out, Steve's eyes lit up and Bruce was studying it with an intensity.

"It won't bite, Doctor Banner," I teased and he smiled back.

"Sorry, but your cooking is almost scientific, almost perfect ratios and layering. It's pretty impeccable," he said as he took a bit.

"So, you're a wonder cook?" Bruce added as he swallowed.

"Her coffee isn't bad either," Natasha said coolly as she finished her dessert and pushed her plate back.

"Uniform is going to be a little tight tomorrow," she admitted to Bruce who grinned.

"Mom can do anything. First time she's made a chicken like this," Emma said proudly and that got me a raised brow from a few people.

"I learn fast and the internet is great," I muttered.

"If a guy with a beard and gelled hair shows up in a suit? Ignore him and don't be sucked into his catering staff," Bruce said simply as if this was a real threat.

"Of course. May I ask why?" I said back.

"It's nice to have something he doesn't for once. Good food that doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Without the big speech and drama as well," Bruce admitted. Steve nodded without speaking, cheeks full.

"Stark also has a staff full of idiots, dangerous ambitious lot, and ego-trippers. Great pay, but unless you're Stark, it's not worth the stress," Natasha leaned back, twirling her knife in one hand.

"You could poke an eye out doing that," Emma said, repeating my lessons faithfully. Natasha's lips twitched.

"Not accidentally," she agreed.

"You know Mister Stark well?" Peter asked, his tone interested and the kid had been so well-mannered that he blended in the background, just taking the scene in.

"He's an experience," Bruce agreed before he continued.

"Not a bad guy and he definitely is someone you want in your corner. Just don't expect to control, direct, advise, or correct him often," he added to Peter.

"Or at all," Natasha smiled sardonically.

"Tony expects you to back your words up and if you're overstepping yourself, he's happy to push you back in place for others to speak," Steve said before smiling.

"Likes to use references as a first language," he admitted as if this was a point of contention.

"I'm being nominated for one of the Stark college scholarships. Science, chemistry, and some. It'd help a lot to get it, so I was just… interested…" Peter trailed off as he got everyone's attention.

"Peter is the smartest guy around. There's no shame in admitting that," Nico grinned which made Peter shoot him a dirty look.

"Do you want to ask Tony? It'll take him a minute to look over it and approve it?" Steve asked kindly. Peter shook his vehemently.

"No! No… If I get it, I want to have earned it. You know… I don't think I'd feel right getting it because Miss AeKure-"

"Sandra," I interrupted pleasantly.

"-S-Sandra's friends knew Tony," he stuttered. Bruce turned to me, bright.

"We're friends now. Peter said so," he said as if we were on the playground.

"Great, I'll get the romcom trash movies and you get the ice-cream. Facemasks on by 8pm," I said back dryly, but we both cracked up a little when Peter began to protest he didn't mean to presume things.

The meal began to quiet down as time went on. Natasha left first… without word or sound, just a note on her napkin to show she ever existed.

' Good food. But I prefer the coffee.'

It wasn't signed.

Karen came for her boys which Matt protested they could at least help clean up, but I booted them out. When a woman picked you up, you didn't stand around chit-chatting. Foggy warned me he'd be back for more food.

It was less menacing and more adorable as he growled it like a real warning.

Bruce and Steve ended up doing my dishes. How many ladies say they had a scientist and a super soldier doing their dishes for them?

"I don't have a lot to go back to so I'm in no rush," Bruce admitted as he dried. Steve had his sleeves rolled up doing the actual washing.

"No? Not even a plant to name?" I asked, a little sadly for him, but Bruce shrugged.

"I've only recently put my foot down for a moment. I suspect sooner or later I'll move on. I… uh… work for the Avengers in a support role. So, it's not the most stable of work," Bruce said with a nervous chuckle.

"There's always work for a friend and teammate," Steve corrected and I watched them interact. Steve was saying things that didn't seem obvious, but the words only seemed to make Bruce's resolve to be a drifter more certain.

As much as I didn't want to psyche up my guests… Bruce had an air of certainty that made my skin prickle. Not much going on, a drifter, a defensive wall, and more little hints that Bruce was pushing people and life away for some reason.

I didn't think he was at a stage of harming himself or if he was, he brushed it and moved past it back to more stable places, but I was worried. Logic Sandra was definitely worried, and I had no idea how to approach this kind guest who was still a stranger about how he set off every alarm bell in one meal.

"I'll be making more experimental food. Can I ask if you guys wouldn't mind me dropping some off at an office or reception desk? I get you guys would be busy and can't just drop things to see me, but would that be okay? Bruce? Steve?" I asked as Nico and Peter were taking turns wearing Steve's gifted cap to Nico in the sitting room.

I was fully into the psychology mood and spycraft mode. I was a little guilty, but I didn't want to mess this up. Bruce looked trapped until he was eating. He constantly watched windows and the front door like a rabbit.

He felt trapped and I guess if you had a big roomy apartment or a lab, my place was a bit cramped. He also didn't want to be pitied. I was almost sure of that as he brushed off Steve's friendship to a degree to isolate himself.

Perhaps Bruce got on better with Tony Stark as scientists, but I didn't think it was that.

If I made it seem as if he was doing me a favour and in an environment he controlled like the open space or his work, it would let Bruce feel in control.

That was the word I knew resonated best here. Control.

Bruce liked having control over his immediate surroundings and effects.

"There's no Avenger's base just yet, but I usually do my own thing around New York," Steve admitted before he turned to Bruce who was swallowing hard.

"Bruce works in an off-lab in Stark Tower. It has the best protections for any incidents and privacy on some floors," Steve said, picking his words carefully. It made it come off as Bruce's research involved something dangerous or had a risk and he wasn't a people person.

"You can drop food off. I can let Tony's receptionists know and they can get you a pass up or if you don't want to talk and just get feedback I can get back in touch," Bruce said quickly at my waiting look.

He already looked better as if the ability to turn me away at the desk was a much needed barrier he might need on bad days.

I smiled.

"It's a delicious business deal then. Steve, I'll leave your extras with Bruce so you can check in with him," I said, getting a serious nod from Steve as if this was an important mission detail.

When it was time for them to go, I was amused at their gratitude and generally good mood when they left.

Peter was going to stay in Nico's room tonight. His aunt called to confirm with a touch of worry. I assured May it was absolutely fine. I pulled Nico aside as Emma and Peter talked about the viability of creating dinosaurs to replace cars.

It gave a whole new meaning to 'fossil fuels'…

"Does Peter know about the mojo jojo?" I asked quietly. Nico looked horrified at the code name I had given it.

"The art… is known. Peter doesn't have a talent for it. He's like you, too weirdly set in his own path," Nico promised me and I was glad Nico had friends to watch his back. Honestly, I expected if Peter was going to use magic… he was going to be a mathematician. The boy was smart if he was getting scholarships.

As the kids settled, I finally got my last charge of the day as I sat at my now lonely kitchen table. It had been nice to have so many friendly people around.

I mean sure, one was a spy, one was Captain America, two were lawyers, one was a genius, two were the best damn kids around, and one was a sad scientist, but guests were guests. I couldn't be happier.

I put my large charge into coffee, just to see how badly I could throw Natasha over her game. If she thought I was good before… The knowledge grew and I was beginning to see the trend that the first three or so charges were basics to advance, but after that was a slower growth.

Now, my knowledge of exacting blends grew to almost aficionado levels. I could put a blend together from coffee beans that were unnamed. Their unusual texture, scent, and even size became more apparent. The other side grew as well, the knowledge of coffee strains and machines that would allow me to get creative.

Then the weirdness followed. This too was becoming apparent that once a field hit a certain amount of charges, my knowledge came with blueprints. Very weird blueprints.

The Smashing Pumpkin Latte was some flavour of projectile of volatile pumpkins filled with coffee. I had the weird feeling it was best used on some flying board or craft. The other idea was the unethical super-boost pump shot. A series of chemicals blended with coffee that would grant some level of strength, but cause a host of exhaustion afterward.

What weird world would a version of me fly about chucking bombs and using a super-strength formula that had massive negative effects?

8: A lunch. A plan!

I awoke from a bizarre dream of Natasha's head on a turkey as it tried to assassinate me for cooking bird kind. I was good, but Turkey-Natasha had turkey basters filled with acid.

I made a strict rule there'd be no more cream pies before bedtime from now on.

I showered with a charge in my chest, trying to plan my day with bleary eyes. Today was my day off. An odd concept since Oscorp didn't think such things were needed and even then 'homework' could always be squeezed in for the grunts.

Thinking of Oscorp made me think of the settlement and the payment from the Howling Commandos. It was the most money I had ever had in a single go. It hadn't really hit me that for some time to come, me and my kids were going to be 'okay'.

But it was an evaporating cloud because an accident could happen at any time. A wise woman would take her free seeds and grow them, not chew them… or something.

I didn't have philosopher Sandra so I'd just make up my own bullshit in the meantime.

I put a charge into the field of handling cash- Finance.

It was a trickle of knowledge in the field. There was a lot going for this field, but what I got seemed to make sense for someone new to the field.

Being financially responsible was a mix of knowing what area I was tending. Money for private use over corporate or public. My 'capital' was a collection of my resources. The bare bones of the knowledge, once I condensed it, was spending enough money to make more money than I initially invested into a project or business.

Profit was king and Planning was its queen.

Spy Sandra liked it simply because it complimented her ability to use a money trail. Detective Sandra did so for the same reason, but more for tracking down missing money. Lawyer Sandra brushed up on what was a legal investment and roughly a scam.

Barista Sandra counted Capital in coffee cups.

I looked over my incoming cash flow with a more critical eye as I made Emma and Nico's lunches. Chef Sandra had something against school lunches until she saw it for herself. Midtown Highschool could be serving torning gym mats as 'nutrient'. It was a strange quirk of the chef side, but I felt better making the lunches myself.

My biggest hurdle as an investor was simply that I didn't know what was around. I had basically become a bubble trainee. All learning, no worldly influence. I'd need to stick my neck out and look for places or people willing to trust a no-name single Mom who could be too good to be true.

It wouldn't too be hard. For every nervous investor, there were 10 equally desperate people in need of cash to get their idea off the ground. I wouldn't rush into it, but I had time to keep an eye out as I waited for Matt and Foggy to do their thing on my behalf.

I kissed my kids goodbye as Nico would drop Emma off before heading to his own school. I would have offered to cover it today, but it was 'their sibling time' which I felt was their time to just talk. Nico had band practise and his friends after school and Emma was getting into different clubs soon.

I'd let them bond while they could.

I hoped Nico enjoyed his witch-shaped and Captain America shield cut sandwiches. I had to make a ton since they ended up being so small. Emma got unicorns.

With nothing really to do, I decided I'd make good on my promise for Bruce and Steve. Bruce said he was stationed at the big Stark tower that was under heavy repair from the alien invasion last year, so it was hard to miss. To be fair, you couldn't find a New York street that wasn't under some repair right now.

People were healing, but buildings healed with drying cement and needed time.

The places where the alien pieces had landed were off-limits due to reports of radiation and chemical leaks that caused various cancers. Spy Sandra was dubious of the reports since they were uniformly reported with little interviews or victims to report on, but I all I knew that day by day, the yellow taped areas vanished to show empty ruins.

I swallowed as I felt like an intruder walking into a business central hub of Stark Tower, surrounded by mens in dark suits and business power people. I tried not to show I was feeling inferior due to my dress, but Logic Sandra was in my head.

' These people aren't even thinking of you. If they notice you, it's because you stand out, but that's not a bad thing either. You picked nice clothes you liked and feel good in. Embrace that.'

She was a keeper, that Sandra.

I walked up to a receptionist who looked like if she could sprout eight more arms and three more heads, she still wouldn't be able to field every call or email coming her way. She was one receptionist of three and they all looked equally hardworking. I hefted my gift of tomato soup, a big bowl of the stuff.

"Hi, Bruc- Doctor Banner said it was okay to bring him lunch. Is there a way to-" I began and the woman tapped keys.

"Mrs AeKure?" she asked politely and I stumbled, not expecting to be named.

"Miss," I said abruptly before wincing at my rude tone, "sorry, rough divorce," I explained and got an understanding smile.

"I'll update your information. Doctor Banner was unsure when he mentioned. If you give me a moment, I'll print you a pass," she promised and got to work. Next to me, some guy with a bad dye job that gave him something akin to frosted blond spikes eyed me.

"I'm pretty sure the first few floors are open to the public since they're the gift shop and public viewings of on-going projects. Your boyfriend can't be that high in the tower. The elevator will even help you up," he offered in a, I think, a helpful tone.

Warrior Sandra said I should crush his nuts, but Logic Sandra said it would be sweeter to crush his soul. I could see how easily I could be a little psychopathic by listening to the voices in my head.

"Friend. And I don't presume to know what floor he's on. Thanks for the advice," I said and the guy sidled in slightly.

"I got access to floor 32. I'm a rising star in the marketing department," he said and for someone so young that could be an accompaniment, but I didn't care for someone's success, only how he treated people and my kids.

So far, I had been hit on, degraded to a 'girlfriend', and a girlfriend to someone not that important to boot.

I gave the woman behind a desk a subtle look of 'help' and she smiled at me before schooling her face.

"Miss AeKure? Your pass to floor 80 is ready. The executive elevator is to the right and available for you," she said slightly louder than needed.

I took the pass and turned to the man who was staring, mouth hanging open.

"Thanks for the advice again. Good luck in marketing," I said politely and strolled past to a hallway where security forces stopped the public from entering a sleek looking elevator. They nodded at my pass and let me through.

I felt this was going to be an experience.

" Welcome, Miss AeKure. I hope your experience in Stark Tower today is a pleasant one," came a polite synthesised voice from a nearby panel as the elevator rose.

"Oh, neat. A recorded greeting in the elevator," I said, wondering what else it could say.

" Not recorded. I am J.A.R.V.I.S," the masculine tone said, the words being spelled on a digital screen as he spoke, " I am artificial intelligence designed by Mr Stark to aid in Stark Tower's operations amongst other functions. I hope this does not cause you discomfort. Some people have reported that AIs can be a point of stress for them." Jarvis said with a slight hitch to its voice to show emotion in what way it could.

I didn't need Logic Sandra as I had never had a thought about killer robots beyond 'my coffee machine, how could you betray me this morning?'.

"Um, no. I don't mind. What do you think about coffee?" I asked, curious about talking with an AI. I supposed it was rude to consider it 'special' to think of them as different, but Jarvis had literally surprised me so I was reaching.

" I know over a 100 blends that Mr Stark is potentially partial too, but only three I've seen him drink. I can recite sources of many flavours and their renowned tastings," he reported and I tilted my head at the screen.

"That's neat, but what do you think of coffee?" I repeated and Jarvis was quiet for a whole second.

" The idea of a stimulus that is widely accepted and beloved is intriguing, I must admit. Coffee is more than a mere drink, but a status in which work ethic and good feelings arise. The idea of tasting it has crossed my mind, ignoring the impossibility of such an action," Jarvis said, his tone curious.

"Coffee is great, there's still a lot we can learn about it. Sorry for the weird subject. I babble when I get nervous," I told Jarvis who merely waited before responding.

" It is perfectly understandable. There have been moments when I have 'felt' the urge to ask a question or discuss something I come across. I thank you for this topic that perhaps I would have never considered before today. If you return, I will endeavour to research coffee factoids for your pleasure so we may converse more. Your floor approaches. If you need a guide, merely call out. I have sensors in all acceptable spaces. If you would prefer something to talk at, my panels may be found around the building," Jarvis said, perhaps warmer in my imagination.

The elevator doors opened to a brightly lit hallway. I slowly exited and looked around, wondering where on Earth I should be going when someone called out.

"Looking for Banner?" asked a man that looked… handsome in a roguish way. He had grease stains on his cheek and goggles on his head. His dirty appearance was so at odds with the clean hallway I had to blink twice.

"Yes… and you are?" I asked slowly and the man looked simultaneously shocked, hurt, insulted, amused, confused, and pleased.

Somehow. He looked… familiar, but the dirty appearance and grease monkey getup was throwing me badly.

"I'm… Happy Hogan!" the man introduced. Spy Sandta raised her hackles like a cat as she sensed a lie.

"Your first name is… 'Happy'?" I asked dubiously. He looked somber.

"My parents had high expectations. Now, Banner! He's this way. Jarvis let me know you were coming," 'Happy' announced as he guided me towards a series of locked doors.

"And you know Bruce how? You could be a skeevy crook trying to lead me astray," I said dryly, wondering if I could Vulcun nerve pinch him if I needed to. Warrior Sandra said that anything heavy enough on the head was a 'pinch' in a pinch.

Happy made a 'could be' expression with a pull of his lips.

"I guess the question is then how much do you wanna see Bruce versus want to run away? I mean, I wouldn't be here if I couldn't be trusted. Stark's business only had one… two… a couple of bad guys inside making a mess," he promised and it did little to comfort me.

"Jarvis, can you direct me to Bruce," I asked suddenly. Jarvis' voice crackled to life and he sounded a little uncertain as he responded.

" I'm afraid I can't do that," he said before sounding more normal, " You are quite safe with Mr Hogan. You are heading towards bay lab A-2. Doctor Banner is located inside," Jarvis said easily and went quiet.

"Who are you?" I asked, holding my supply of soup at the ready. The man gave me a smile that could have been on a child's face as he admitted to setting fire to the mean neighbour's rosebush.

"A friend of Bruce. If you're freaking out, I'm only having some fun," the man said before he started doing something that didn't make me feel 'safe'. He reached for his dirty tank top's hem and started lifting as if he was going to undress in front of me.

I had to admit, the small preview I got showed some lovely contours of physique, but before I could admire Happy's happy zones, I saw something that made my inventions in my head look like cavewoman banging rocks together.

It was a circular device implanted in the center of his chest. It was alight with a glow that if the hallway had been any less brighter, I would have seen through his dirty black top. The thing seemed roughly in line with his heart and was silent despite it being clearly advance technology.

"I'm Tony Stark. Might have heard of me?" he said and dropped the fabric to cover his… advance tech. I did know him from the media.

Usually, his appearance was impeccable boarding on vanity. That was what threw me off his trail. He looked like he was fresh off the street, bootlegging cars and pimping rides for a quick buck.

"That's nice?" I said after a moment and I don't think it was the reaction he was expecting.

"I wore the power suit, developed amazing tech, funded a dozen charities and foundations, and I even threw a nuke at some aliens?" Tony Stark listed and I merely raised a brow.

"If you have that clean energy thing in your chest. Why am I still paying for my electricity bill?" I asked and Tony raised a finger with a smooth chuckle.

"If it were only that easy," he began and he lost me. I marched on towards the clear walls of a lab where I could see Bruce inside, messing with remains of some burned metal pieces.

"One, it's only really efficient. Calling it totally clean isn't quite right. It's still a developing field and a lot of things we didn't know, which I would have loved to know before, are just coming to light," Tony explained, more at me than to me.

"Also, a tiny reactor and Stark Tower are built to work off the technology. Outfitting every home is going to take a long time and a lot of existing- Hello?" he said as I entered the lab without answering.

"Bruce!" I said and the man smiled, but in a rather confused manner as if the sight of Stark and myself together was an issue in his view of the world.

"Banner, tell her I'm cool," Stark said before Bruce could reply.

"Sandra, you… Tony, what are you talking about?" he asked, eyes squinting. I turned to him and decided to throw him a bone as Bruce's friend.

"Your reactor is cool and a lot of people are benefiting off your charity, good kids," I said, thinking of Peter but remember his wish not to be named drop because of fearing favouritism, "but you stripped in front of me and you stink like unwashed hobo," I said as honestly as I could. Tony didn't reach for a moment before he sniffed hard.

"I thought that was the smell of science," he countered and I had to look back just as unbothered.

"And the smell of success is soap," I replied before turning back to Bruce.

"I'll be back in a nice suit, but Bruce, your friend likes the v-cut. Work out a little buddy and you're ace," Tony said and I could feel the urge to reach out and kick him growing. Damn, he caught me… admiring his work.

Bruce carefully put the shredded metal fragments in some case and shut it as Tony left to… Tony elsewhere.

"So, enjoy the Tony experience?" Bruce asked, seeing the look on my face.

"He's distracting," I admitted. More so that I hadn't even thought of using my talents on him. He just came off as so one-dimensional, feeding me some surface stuff that kept me certain until he dropped that last comment.

It was only now I saw how much Tony had controlled and directed our interaction. I was on the defensive the entire time.

"Tony's a little different for everyone. It's hard to explain, but I wasn't sure you'd come so soon… is that for me?" Bruce asked as I put the containers down.

"And Steve, I hope you don't mind eating here?" I asked and pulled out spoons I brought. I would just take everything home and wash it, so I brought my own spoons.

"It's fine. The metal is pretty hard to fragment and it's inert enough that even I can just handle it," Bruce admitted and Lawyer Sandra raced with Spy Sandra to reach Bruce first.

"Metal? I mean… can you talk about that?" I asked, thinking of NDAs or something.

"It's pieces of the alien force that invaded last year. Dark folks, but their tech is leagues ahead of things we have here. I would have loved to see their research labs or medical division," Bruce said, a little wistfully.

Logic Sandra poked and I picked the stuff up.

"Know a good place with a view?" I asked and Bruce looked unsure then stood up. It would be good to make sure he got out of his lab for meals. I wanted to make sure he didn't live in that room.

"The other labs have windows, but they're distracting," he offered and cross the hall to show…

New York.

It looked so peaceful this high up. No wonder kings of old could ignore their kingdom's plights.

"Oh, look! The Baxter Building!" I pointed to the tower across the town with giant 4 on it.

"At night, it looks pretty. A sea of lights. The light pollution messes up the sky, but in South America, some places are so remote you can see some real sights," Bruce offered as he tasted the still warm soup with a pleased noise.

"You get around, huh?" I asked and Bruce slowed his eating.

"I like quiet places. The less people the better," he agreed reluctantly. I turned to him and he tried for a reassuring smile, but I could stop my concern now. He sounded so bitterly resentful at… himself? The world?

More?

"You sound sad, Bruce. I don't know why, but maybe one night, you can show me New York as you see it here," I said, not digging and he seemed to chew over that for a while before he brushed chin out of reflex.

"I'm not sad, just tired," he finally settled on and that was worse.

Sadness was still an emotion. Tired was just… trying to switch off.

"Sandra, maybe this isn't a good idea?" Bruce began, trying to phrase his thoughts to avoid hurting my feelings as he put his spoon down.

"Ah, it sucked… Sorry, the soup thing needs work," I admitted, purposely misunderstanding. Bruce blinked before he smiled a little.

"The soup is great and you know it. I mean lunch and us. I'm not the best person and you don't know about me," he said and I leaned back on a wall to think about it.

"So, you don't want me to feed you and Steve. Is the Avenger's thing? Am I coming off as a weird fan or something?" I tried to figure out his concern.

He leaned on a clear central table, chewing his lip for a moment.

"No, Steve should get this soup. It's great, but Sandra…" he inhaled and I saw a vein in his neck throb from the intensity of his anxiety over the talk. I had to intervene. He was going to have a panic attack or something.

I had never done something like this so I was careful as I stood across from him.

"Bruce. Look into my eyes," I said in a tone, channeling every therapy and persuasion skill I had. He did so and his eyes seemed intense, his pupils dilated.

"You don't need to worry. If you want me to go, I'll go. No drama. We're adults, right?" I asked and he cleared his throat uneasily.

"Yeah, but… it's not you but trying to explain-" he began but I raised a hand.

"You owe no one in this room an explanation. You're not comfortable and I'm not helping. Bruce, you have the right to be calm in here," I promised and he exhaled once.

"I just feel like an asshole," he said after a moment.

"Just tell me you liked the soup," I said, a little childish. Bruce snorted and it broke the heavy mood.

"I'm keeping the soup, but… if I get worked up, can you leave? If you don't want to already. I'm kind of coming off as crazy," Bruce sighed, rubbing his face as if annoyed with himself.

"I got kidnapped and spent the next day cooking like nothing happened. It's called coping mechanisms. Bruce, let's make a deal," I said and took his hands in mine. His skin was hot to the touch and it was almost… a little too hot for prolonged contact.

I endured it.

"You got kidnapped?" Bruce asked, a little shocked but I powered on.

"I promise that if you want me to leave, I will, no questions asked. If you're dying on the floor, I will leave if you want me to. In return, I get to alert Tony or Steve to your… state and you promise to at least call and say you're fine. If we do that, I want to keep bringing you lunch," I said.

Logic Sandra in my head was gentle but firm in her reminder.

Bruce wasn't my problem to fix and I had to be careful that if I saw something underneath his tired veneer that I couldn't help? I'd pull out as gracefully as I could.

"You sure? I mean… I eat a lot and I can get into funks," Bruce began, already trying to make me regret this. He was failing, of course.

I smiled at him and he grimaced back, sort of smiling.

"I'm positive, Mr Banner. Now, our soup awaits," I announced.

It turns out that Bruce was smart. I learned that as we lunched.

Bruce was maybe six or ten charges smart. He talked about that alien metal in terms I might have heard in a fever dream once. I could sort of nod at the right bits and comment there and here, but what the hell could you say to 'isotropic interlaced matter waves' that were given off by 'seamless mechanical-bio-organism structures'?

"More soup?" I managed mostly. Once he dumbed it down for me, all he really had to say was 'alien fleshy-metals gave off weird energy waves'. It wasn't that hard.

"Good weird or bad weird?" I asked and Bruce thought about it.

"Depends. The tech can do anything from creating anti-magnetic properties for flight to exoskeleton suits to heat or sound generation if consolidated," he said slowly, thinking about.

"Some of it could even open portals or if interlaced with the body make it into a conduit for sources of energy. The stuff raining down on New York isn't going to be a good thing. I suspect we'll be seeing a lot of weirdos emerging soon," Bruce warned ominously.

Steve never appeared for his soup, but Bruce was a little 'too happy' to get it to him later. I shot him an amused look as I left, getting a charge as I departed the Stark building, giving Jarvis a farewell.

Nice AI, I liked him.

Having still a long time before Emma or Nico were due home, I embraced a new style and went home to change into jogging clothes. I would start light… maybe.

Warrior Sandra preened at the idea of physical exercise which suited me fine. I was all for the 'proper jogging posture' and pacing techniques as I hustle a body that had gone through 33 years, two kids, and a nervous breakdown out the door.

As I huffed and puffed down the sidewalk, I put my new charge into Finance again. The first layer was nice, but it didn't give enough to power through the uncertainty. The star, a dollar sign, bloomed brighter.

What came next wasn't an instant mastery of the stock market or instant tips for snapping up business. It was how to spot companies or businesses beginning to panic sell their shares or tightening their grip as the company grew. The knowledge showed how to spot trends in the field that were less obvious, even to those with time in the game.

The act of shares was a multi-facet beast of politics, risk, loyalty, and more.

Low investments were a good starting point, better if I knew the business myself. If I had to rely on an expert to tell me what to watch for? I was simply paying someone to cover my inexperience

Logic Sandra looked at Tycoon Sandra.

Loyalty and affection now pulsed with potential and a sense of… profit.

I knew exactly where to invest my earnings…

I crashed into the tiny cramped office of Nelson and Murdock an hour later, still sweaty.

They didn't want to be paid, but how about a silent partner who could fund them because she saw how good they were?

Having a reason to drop by and grin at Foggy's cute face or listen to Matt's chocolate voice or say hi to Karen? Nah… I was totally professional.

But I could enjoy the benefits.

9: Investment? Boom?

The law sucked. How dare it attempt to hold back my glorious plans! I would turn to a life of crime and turn my kids into my henchmen, cutting through the corruption of the land!

"We're flattered, but investing in a law firm isn't quite legal. It throws everything we do into question if we have a business partner. We need to be able to represent people without ulterior motives which some lawyers might point out you could influence us. So, the current status is you can't invest with us," Matt said, handing me crap coffee.

"I was hoping to get wise with my cash, but I don't know how to begin investing. I think I knew how to get the ball rolling, but it's finding a ball," I blew out a sigh. Lawyer Sandra wished she had known this, but her level of knowledge was vastly under development compared to my cooking skills or spycraft.

"It's not bad thinking. I hear real estate is where it's at," Foggy threw in as he worked through some paperwork.

"Yeah, except everything in New York has been under the same owners since the 60's who are too terrified to sell or cost way more than Sandra here is getting," Karen added as she sat down in the seat across in the communal of their office.

"That's not quite… true," Matt said slowly and everyone turned to him.

"Last year," he began and no one had to ask what he meant. It was hard to forget an alien invasion. "A lot of people died and even more places got wrecked. New York's still shaking and buildings are sitting empty due to the costs being too much for some owners or no one willing to stick around the crumbling buildings to pay rent," he said slowly and I wondered how he knew that before I thought it was possible that he had clients explain their circumstances to him.

"So, could I get a fixer-upper?" I asked slowly, wondering what it would be like to be a… landlord?

Landlady?

"Sure. If you need legal representation when signing legal binding contracts on sales, Foggy would love to help," Matt smiled a little too roguishly. Foggy looked up from the tons of paperwork on his lap with a sour look before he looked at me and nodded with a reassuring smile.

"You can't invest with us, but we can still be friends," he promised lightheartedly and that made me happy.

I promised to call once I found somewhere.

When I returned home, I found someone I didn't know pacing outside my door.

Was this a thing now? Were people just going to appear at my door that I didn't know? The girl looked to be about Nico and Peter's age, her sour look didn't vanish when she saw me standing there.

I didn't hold back in unleashing my council on her.

She was anxious which in turn made her ill-tempered. A nose stud glinted as some obscene metal band t shirt covered a scrawny form. She was someone who didn't like or feel comfortable being stared at for any well-meaning ways. Her black and aggressive edge came off as a warning.

I think she had brown hair, but she had dyed it so rapidly it was more an abstract blob on some artist's pallet where the colours are merged into a greenish-brown.

I didn't think she was mad at me or anything in general. She just had a default blank wall around herself that seemed to repel attention where she could.

"Hello?" I began, not letting my guard down. I've seen new reports of teen girls like her flinging lava about or fighting weird robots. Power was no longer confined to years of training and genius of their arts.

"Looking for Nico. You his Mom?" she asked as if the role wasn't worth much to her.

"I am and he's at school," I said, the silent 'why aren't you there?' was left hanging before I pressed on.

"And you are?" I finally said. The girl sighed as if she was being massively hindered by Nico obtaining an education. I saw her flick her hair, my eyes narrowing down in bright blond roots before she answered.

"Tabby. He knows me. Sorry to be busting your door or something, but you could tell him I'm looking for him? We're supposed to hang and I liked to know face-to-face if he's ditched me," the girl said bored as if this was just a thing she dealt with all the time.

People letting her down.

"I can let him know. Are you… into the same things as he is?" I asked, trying to piece more information together. The girl smirked and walked past me, in her outstretched finger, something bright and hot-looking like a burning pingpong grew in size before it shrank.

"Not the same, but we cross circles. Let him know Tabitha Smith isn't a baby, I can take a rejection. Not everyone can handle hanging with Mutants for long," she said and the little sizzling ball fizzled out of existence before the girl walked off.

"You want a coffee?" I called, not sure if that was now my default response to things.

"… What?" Tabitha said back, flatly.

The girl sipped the offered drink with a look of hostility.

I was beginning to think she didn't have any other look beside scowling and smirking. I tried not to think how strange it was that I invited a random teen into my home, but I panicked and I wanted to dig into my son's life without coming off as snooping.

My experience with Mutants was nil, I don't think I've knowingly met one and considering the treatment of them in today's standards, I don't blame them for hiding where they could. It was the outspoken ones like the X-Guys or Magento that reflected back on the unknown kids like Tabitha.

Logic Sandra didn't have a reference on how to address Mutant issues, but she did offer perhaps it was akin to other marginalized groups.

"So, how did you meet Nico? If you can share without getting into trouble," I asked, trying to balance my approach to her. It was… going to be hard not to step on Tabitha's toes. If I was too friendly, she would bug out. Too good of a thing if an adult is being nice. If I was too business, she would smell a trap. If I focused on her Mutant powers, she might think I was looking how to use her to my own gains…

So, I talked about Nico.

Tabitha looked at the coffee, her expression telling me she didn't mean to drink over half of it, let alone any. Ah, poor girl, she knows not my coffee skills. I was beginning to transcend mortal limitations!

"Around. Nico pops up in the more interesting places. Some people I know muck around with the mumbo jumbo; it looks like a lot of praying to me so hard pass for me, but it works for them. He was haggling over some bark and I asked him why he was paying so much for some wood when the little blue pills are much cheaper," Tabitha grinned before remembering I was Nico's mother.

Honestly that didn't sound like my Nico to take that lying down-

"He said he would need the pills after talking to me as I ruined the female race for him in ten seconds," Tabitha carried on, draining the rest of the cup.

Ah, there was my cherub.

"Yeah, that's Nico," I agreed, which got me a slightly amused looked before the girl shrugged.

"So, we shot the sh- uh, hung around and just ribbed each other. It was good fun, but I asked him about his whammy and if he could whip up one of them 'piss off' wards and he said he'd get back to me," Tabitha said casually, leaning her chin on her hand.

Forget about bells, I had alarm gongs ringing now.

"Why would you need one?" I asked, not thinking about my question. Tabitha clammed up, her relaxing shoulders tensing slightly.

"Lady, I'm a Mutant that hangs around other Mutants. Some people would love to sneak in when I sleep and mount my head on a stick and wave it about," she reminded me, the acidity she had in her voice returning full force.

If it was just Tabitha, I could offer her a place for the night or help out, but she didn't seem the kind to kick it up in luxury as her 'friends' were left to struggle.

"Sorry, insensitive knee jerk question," I said, giving her a grimace. Tabitha stared at me for a long time before she shrugged and disarmed her aggression.

"It's fine. You're not a bad sort. Coffee is great and you clearly love your kids," she nodded to Emma and Nico's open bedroom doors and for a moment there was a long look of sadness in her eyes before it was buried under deflection and boredom.

"So, given I'm a normie who knows nothing. Don't suppose you can give me a run down of the Mutant side of things? Anyone I should know or avoid?" I asked, deciding the issue of why she needed defence was something she wouldn't talk about.

Calling the police would only ensure Tabitha fled and took it out on Nico. I couldn't stop a girl who could form energy balls. My Krav Maga was still untested.

"What makes you think I know Jack from Jill?" Tabitha responded, a little too coolly.

"I have a hunch you know what to do when the shit hits the fan," I answered honestly.

"You're playing me, I know you are, but… you're not wrong," Tabitha smirked, flicking her muddy green hair back.

I didn't expect to be getting a crash course in the local Mutant scene, but life was full of surprises.

I learned only a few things before Tabitha decided to head out.

One, New York sewers are massive and a horde of Mutants lived down there, their powers unable to allow them to blend. They were called the Morlocks.

"They're like… amazon warrior tribes. Everything is them or us and working with them is favours and all that jazz. Big pain, but they got a lot of useful people down there if you're out of options or don't mind the smell of cooking rats," Tabitha admitted.

I learned that big names were 'X-Men' and 'Magneto'. I was close with those.

X-Men were for unity and such, but the 'Brotherhood' was for Mutant elitism and ruling. Tabitha's view on things was illuminating.

"X-Men sell a good pitch, but they're more set on fighting the Brotherhood than improving our image. The Brotherhood could be popular if they weren't behind some serious crap," she rolled her eyes,

Besides that, New York was so chaotic since the invasion that Mutants were moving in and out at rapid paces. Tabitha assumed the groups would soon consolidate and then the turf wars would begin.

I suspected Tabitha didn't want to be part of said wars, hence the ward to hide behind.

She left me a lot to think about and so I told her about my day job and how I could make an even better coffee.

"Is there a Mutie tax?" she asked bluntly and I blinked at her.

"If it turns out there is? You get to see me quit there and then," I said softly and the girl frowned, but only shrugged.

"Maybe I'll drop by. Business might start booming with a cutie like me inside," she said and strolled off.

If almost relieved by the peaceful resolution… I got a charge. I decided if Tabitha or anymore guests showed up, I wanted the ability to assess them better than I had been. Tabitha ended up being just a rough kid that relaxed after a bit, but I might not be lucky next time.

I put more charge into Spycraft, as it was my main source of detecting threats of all sorts.

The star glowed, the dagger and cloak becoming brighter, but misty. The knowledge flowed to me. What I knew was just the tip of the iceberg. I focused now on infiltration. Learning to pick roles that were key, but not eye-catching. My skills in assessing a situation as a lost cause became more sharp based on the mission detail.

Some talent arose in causing sabotage in the spectacular scenes or the ability to invent a lie on the go. It was a little of the extreme side as I was pretty sure I could put together disassembled parts of various handguns despite never holding one before.

As I suspected, the designs followed after a third charge.

To say they were cutting edge was a lie. I saw blueprints for a compact mirror that doubled as a communications device. I got specs for some gogo boots with unique suction cups on them letting me walk on surfaces, providing my core strength improved… and finally, perhaps the strangest thing was the laser inside a lipstick, but the heat wasn't that great since the power source sucked.

I almost wished I could make them in a reasonable time frame just so I could see Natasha's face when I suggested she'd use them. I had the rough idea on their design but there was a lot about the mechanics that basically left it up to luck. Between the lack of knowledge in adhesive, lasers and thermal energy, and communication, the tech still felt 'magical' to me.

I went over my apartment, using my new proficiency of Spycraft to check the apartment, but honestly, if Natasha had hidden bugs in my home? I couldn't find them, that either spoke of paranoia on my part or the insane skill of Natasha.

I could go looking for buildings to purchase, work out, or dive into the local library to check out sweet books on my new martial art and law skills, but I honestly just lacked the energy and seeing the silence of the apartment, I went to my bookshelf of my room and to the top shelf where I kept my more… indulgent books.

My latest addition was 'Anna Black: The Bloody Bone Baron'. It was book 14 of the series and hopefully I'd finally see some closure on this building threesome between the lead, Anna, and her centaur neighbour and the serial killer, but not a bad guy Merman.

The world had ended twice, but their threesome could restore the timeline, but Merman was being an asshole and flirting with the enemy, Lucy the Fiend-Baroness.

But the surprise twist was Lucy's husband was back from Mars and he could also fulfill the third in their timeline saving lovemaking.

I honestly don't know where the hours went.

I had just gotten to the part where Anna had died again and met the Reaper, a strange guy called 'Pip, when I heard my kids coming home. I threw the book back on the shelf like it was Satan's personal diary.

When I told Nico about Tabitha, his entire face soured.

"Tell me you burned whatever she touched? She taints things with her… Tabbyness," he grouched and I knew that meant he liked her enough. Nico didn't grumble about you if he disliked you, he would grit his teeth and snap at your name.

"Don't be rude. How were your lunches?" I asked and Emma gushed about how she had the best lunch in all the class. The unicorn and rocket sandwiches were a big hit. Nico flushed and admitted that the girls and Peter loved them, he ended up sharing them in return from snacks from them.

I let Emma do her homework with the TV on but pulled Nico aside to ask about Tabitha.

"Is she… safe?" I asked softly and Nico shuffled, still a bit weirded out I knew about this side of him. The magic and Mutants side that I had missed when I worked all day at Oscorp.

"Mutant and Hater tensions are rising. Everyone in New York got really messed up by the aliens, but since the aliens are all gone, people turned on the next 'freaks' they could find. Mutant haters have been around since Mutants, but its real bad in some places right now. Tabi said that some people from Canada fled because camps are starting up in secret," he admitted.

I felt cold at the idea that a 'race' war was about to erupt, but his words also threw me.

"Canada?" I repeated and he shrugged.

"Some places, but it's happening all over the world. Tabi said that Xavier didn't help at all when he released that book called Mutants 'Homo Superior'. It sent all the wrong vibes according to her and now everyone is waiting for the spark that kicks it all off. It's not really noticeable as Mutants don't stay in public often and the News prefers to stick to mocking Spider-Man or talking about how Ironman wastes all his money on toys," Nico said flippantly as he was already done with people.

I thought of Tony.

"His toys are much cooler than he is," I said in a way that made Nico's eyes lit up.

"You met Tony Stark? Did you go see Dr Banner today?" he asked and I shrugged.

"I'll share my day if you tell me how the physics test went and your day," I offered and Nico shook his head as if that was a sucker's deal, but not to me. My kids were my life and I'd push Tony Stark down a well for them.

Still, my heart and mind kept going back to Tabitha and the idea she was huddled in some dump, keeping quiet as mobs went about, hunting mutants.

I wasn't a crusader of causes, but I couldn't stop my ability to feel empathy for people in suffering. Some Mutants were assholes, but they'd be assholes without their powers. People were people, be they made of metal, make glowy balls or read my mind.

And heaven or hell was other people.

It was late, and I didn't think I would get another charge on top of my two finances and spy charges, but tomorrow was always another day.

Everyday I would get a little better… a little more aware of the world outside my bubble.

I just hoped I could do my best for me and my kids and those that I could help.

If all I could do was offer someone on the worst day of their life was a cup of coffee? It was going to be a cup so full of kindness and support it would hug them on the inside.

I did occur to me that a reasonably sized building that needed repairs could be rented out to such people in times of need…

Something to think on.

10: A home? A fire!

I was… flying.

I watched the soaring teeth of New York shoot past me as I leaned forward. An orange cloak fluttered around my neck and back as the device I rode on snarled like an angry beast, spewing a toxic trail.

It was easy to make the thing silent, but I wanted New York to know I was flying above them like a demon. Ahead was a penthouse, my target. Grinning under the rubbery mask on my face, I reached into my satchel and pulled two grinning pumpkin bombs.

A little more deadly than my usual screaming stunners, but desperate measures called for desperate times.

I pulled back to throw and my arm was frozen as a long web snared my wrist. Snarling, I turned to see Spider-Man on a nearby wall, but… he looked…

Different from what he should be.

' Why am I throwing bombs on a glider?' I asked, but the scene moved on without me. This Spider-Man had four mechanical iron-legs around his frame and was speaking, but the scene was almost silent.

Spider-Man launched himself at me, more viciousness about him than I had ever seen in any recording. He was coming right at me with those legs pointed at my body.

I turned-

-landing on my bedroom floor with a grunt, blinking away the early sunlight.

'We need to analyse that, ASAP' Logic Sandra demanded. Everyone else turned to Barista Sandra as the ideas of pumpkin bombs floated about her area innocently.

I pulled myself up and went to the kitchen for coffee, eyes crusted with sleep. For a few minutes, nothing popped into my head, almost most like serene meditation, but when my brain finally kicked in, I had to admit that I barely remembered my dreams, let alone had a 'lucid' dream.

"I connect to all the Sandras and that's how I got my powers. So, if I invest in different areas… do I get a glimpse into their world?" I asked myself and it seemed… reaching, but if there was something I had in spades, it was 'cold logic' from my various knowledge.

I tested the feeling of wanting to get on a super unsafe glider and wear a rubber mask to throw bombs about.

Nope, still hated heights, going too fast, and bombs! So, it was like some superpowered projected TV show about visions of other Sandras. I nearly snorted in derivation. What kind of lame power makes a TV show to deal with difficult reality and acting like you're from another time or world?

I would keep an eye on these 'dreams'. If I started getting unusual urges or started getting warnings, I'd go straight to Tony Stark or Natasha and tell them I needed some power inhibitor. I wasn't going to let the chance of being 'impressive' allow me to even be a potential threat to my family.

Becoming good at something instantly was cool, but it wasn't 'I discard my entire life and things I love' cool.

Maybe if I was 16 again, I'd be a hell to deal with, but I guess getting 'old', if you asked Emma or Nico, gave me some protection against rash choices. I was doing my first close shift tonight. Mr Geoff was giving me the spare key copy and was trusting me as he left two hours before close to get ready for the open. The Brewer wasn't a late-night establishment.

I'd be out by 8.30pm.

But in the meantime, I had my customary charge in the morning to spend. I was going to do as Foggy and Matt mentioned and look for some buildings going cheap post-invasion. The Oscorp settlement money could ensure a lot of comfortable living, but it was a diminishing return. It would run out eventually.

The issue was that I had zero clue about buildings. What separated a wreck from something redeemable? If I was going to go with this plan of being an owner, I would need to make sure I wasn't getting ripped off.

I decided to try Building Maintenance. It was the only term coming to mind since I didn't plan on building the thing myself.

The knowledge came, a lot more condensed than I was expecting. It felt like since I narrowed down the subject of 'Maintenance' I was able to squeeze out more in return for blocking the unrelated information.

A charge in maintenance would get me a minor, almost imperceptible difference in my skills as the word covered every maintenance from cars to robots.

Instead, I got a firm beginning on buildings and their viability as shelters. There was a lot that I didn't think about beforehand. The first thing I would need to check and look out for was the foundation in any building. A weak foundation would shatter any golden palace I constructed upon it. The next few steps covered the more dire of maintenance I would need to ensure a building remained standing.

The main load bearing walls and support beams. The material it was constructed with when first built, and even things like the potential flooding zones that dotted New York as each sector had a different flooding threat and thus had different taxes and insurance rates.

My God, construction and water were such horrible enemies.

It was a shame Oscorp didn't give me just a little more. That 14 million dollar building looked just lovely to own…

Little? I meant a lot more.

Still, I was an optimist sometimes. A little more than glass half-full. Which is why I didn't cringe and hiss, covering my eyes when the real estate lady presented me a building after sometime of looking about.

I merely blinked hard once.

"As you can see, it's a tough character to look past, but it's serviceable. I mean, at least it's not the Meatpacking District!" the slightly frazzled woman said with a slight forced laugh.

I had to admit, Brooklyn definitely wasn't not some meat shipping district in Manhattan. It was a five floor building with boarded up windows and a 'courtyard'. The buildings on the street seemed watchful as if they didn't appreciate strangers visiting. My potential building was a darkish red colour like the wash-off of rust.

It had an eerie feeling about it.

"The roof was mostly patched together as it was hit by a piece of the alien debris. There was some… the previous owner didn't make it out, but there isn't a sight of anything gruesome," the lady promised quickly.

I didn't know if it was amusing or disturbing that Lawyer Sandra pondered if violent death could be a legal cause to haggle rather than Spy Sandra.

Inside was bare. It was the sort of place in horror films where teens would go to abandoned buildings to perform demonic rituals for fun and then all die in bloody cinematic fashion. The graffiti wouldn't take much to cover up I think.

"What's a Nazeh?" I pondered, eyeing a large message, and the lady stared.

"I think they meant 'Nazi' and over there is 'Highler'," she said with a long suffering tone. She showed me to the next floor, and despite her best attempt at trying to hide it, I used my spy abilities to see how she tested each step as if the wood was… perilous.

Each floor had four 'units'. Each one was a small apartment with a bedroom and kitchenette, and a modest bathroom. A lot of sinks were cracked or plain up just missing, leaving behind exposed pipes.

The top floor only had two apartments, the rest of it used for roof access and a side storage space. The ceiling looked minty and new, contracting horribly with the old cracked wood and paint around it.

In total that was… 18 apartments of single bedrooms or if I knocked some walls down and combined them, 7. Something to think about.

Finally, the agent took me to the roof where I saw what I could see. In the distance, I could just barely see the tip of the Statue's held torch, beyond her and slightly to the right, the highrises of Manhattan. A lot of business and even the glowing Christmas-tree like symbol of Stark Tower.

"It's a good view," the woman said as if this was worth raising the price.

"But not the best on the street," I challenge, getting a noise of agreement. It was a real mess and that wasn't even considering who my neighbours could be, what trouble lurked about… and more.

I asked the price and…

It was against all odds… affordable. I tell her to hold it for me as I still had other places to check out. Oddly enough, one was indeed in the Meatpacking District, but given the agent's opinion, that was just not going to happen.

What kind of people lived in a place called 'Meatpacking'?

Bodybuilders or vampires, that's who.

"It was delicious."

Looking up from rising out filters and cups, I saw Steve leaning on the counter.

"Well, I haven't served you yet, so that's a feat," I grinned before heading to make his usual. He seemed to like the warm cup of 'warm and easy'.

"I meant the soup, but I bet the coffee is great as well," Steve amended and I was glad he got some.

"I'm surprised Bruce could help himself or Tony didn't swipe it," I admitted.

"Tony doesn't act like he wants something as normal as soup. He tends to accidentally end up having some a lot," Steve explained as he gave me some change plus a tip as always. As I was on my own, I couldn't skip work to chat. Steve respectfully settled in 'his chair' as my next customer came in.

Tabitha looked around, an air of 'seen one coffee place, seen them all' about her. Her hair looked redder today as some of the dye was being washed out. I swear that I didn't have normal customers anymore. It was all spies, super soldiers, and mutants.

"You really work here?" she asked, amusement in her tone.

"Yup. I make a mean cup and it lets my kids keep it easy. Unless you think I'm such a Dad for doing it? Providing for my family?" I teased back and she gave a look of bewilder as Steve grinned at me over his cup.

"'Dad'?" she repeated. I waved my hand.

"We had slang growing up in the late 70's and such as well. My Mom used to say it all the time," I explained. Tabitha shook her head at me as if I was a lost cause.

"Your old timers are so weird. You try so hard to get it," she sighed as if decreeing it so. I leaned in, my face turning grim.

"I was with 'it' when I was younger, then they changed what 'it' meant. Then I got old. It'll happen to you! It always happens," I said and Tabitha snorted as she pulled out loose change.

"If you're going to throw old rerun references at me, can I least get the most heart-pounding drink while I listen?" she asked with a smile. I couldn't make the super caffeine serum on a challenge, that would be hideously immature and dangerous.

A really watered down knock-off that was basically all show and no benefit? I could do that. I would just have to substitute some sugar for some coffee blends and heated milk.

My hands moved and before I quite 'got' what I was doing, the beans from different brands and a bubbling foam of milk in a spare cup was already going. There was some delicate shaking involved, so lacking a machine, I put my hips into it and made it like a milkshake.

"Woo! Shake what God gave you!" Tabitha hollered! Steve was giving me an odd look but I poured the resulting mix like a cocktail into a small cup. Tabitha eyed the size of it with a dubious look.

"If your heart doesn't beat like a drum in 3 minutes, I'll pay for it," I challenged. Tabitha, the silly girl, down it with a grin in a single gulp. There was a moment where we just looked at each other and then I could almost physically see it enter her bloodstream.

Her pupils did a little dilating and she swallowed hard once.

"That was pretty sweet," she mumbled as she 'casually' leaned on my counter. She blinked once and when she opened them, there was a strange sort of 'buzz' to her.

"Woah. My heart is going 'boom boom'," she giggled and softly trailed her hand over the wooden counter top as if the feeling was enhanced and amazing. She then silently slid some money over and I handed her the change. Her eyes nearly bugged out when she saw how 'little' it cost.

I wasn't cheating the register, the effects came in the preparation and something in the moments of the bean juice upon release.

"I need three more 'Sandra Loves'!" Tabitha said quickly and I snorted at her name and shook my head.

"I'll call it the Hummingbird, but no your heart would blow. Go sit down and vibe," I ordered and Tabitha went before she turned back with a more calm expression.

"Thanks… for the coffee. I'll try to keep trouble out of here," she added which made Steve's eyes narrow from his own seat. I gave him a reassuring look. I wouldn't 'out' Tabitha. That wasn't my decision. No matter how casually Tabitha revealed it.

I wouldn't reveal Steve to Tabitha in return. Mutant powers, legendary status, or something else. I wasn't a gossip. As I worked and served, Tabitha slipped out sometime when I wasn't looking, but she left a tip on her table which was much appreciated.

It was close to close when I got my second charge of the day. Deciding that I could cut down on future costs by being able to fix something in my potentially new building myself. If I had to call someone every time went wrong, that could be a money drain.

I focused on 'Repair' then narrowed it down to 'Building Repair' which really helped narrow things down. I slowly got the knowledge of the basics, which was most appreciated. I could see the ideas of installing new doors, locks, and replacing door knobs. How I would patch up holes in walls or how to fix steps.

I saw ways to replace window glass panes, replacing broken wooden bannisters in hallways, replacing a fuse, and other 'tiny' things.

It was like the layer of jam over the layer of sponge of Building Maintenance.

Maintenance was the effort of preventing the breakdown of something. Repair was the function of replacing or fixing something back to operational states. It was a subtle difference, but a key one. Together they could rely on the other to know how to spot issues or how to turn slow but a short fix into a repair solution.

Custodian Sandra was the combination of all this knowledge. She was a grizzled veteran that survived the fourth floor bathroom war, the Great Flood. She emerged broken, but alive.

For the others? Lawyer Sandra leaned into the knowledge, absorbing what seemed legal and not. Spy Sandra got aspects on how to reverse the knowledge and cause a building to collapse, but it was Security Sandra that got the most. I had never quite… seen this Sandra as she tended to keep herself secluded and locked away, ironically enough.

She learned about building security and was getting more into the idea of large scale security measures, but I was still too undeveloped to see anything usable.

I bid Steve a goodnight, and began to close for the night. It was a peaceful process of cleaning the machine, turning it off, cleaning the floor and tables. I should get some audiobooks or podcasts for this, it could be so relaxing!

Maybe not 'Anna Black'. Even in my own head, some things were too scandalous to hear in public.

I think it was my relaxed nature that caused me to be utterly taken back by the form coming out of the dark towards me. My poor attempts at the Krav Maga routines only let me raise an arm to protect my throat before I could think.

The figure wasn't attacking, but she was coughing and spluttering. Tabitha looked covered in smoke and soot as a cut on her head bled.

"Shit," I whispered, grabbing a hold of her before she could stumble and fall. She struggled until she saw it was me.

"Tabitha, are you okay?" I asked, checking her over, but the best I could do was rely on Warrior Sandra and Spy Sandra to assess how physically capable she was and if she could attack me.

Neither seemed positive.

"Sandra… god my throat burns," Tabitha wheezed, her voice coming out raspy. She had a nasty burn near her neck that looked red and raw. She suddenly lurched to her feet.

"Come on, keep moving! Shit, I shouldn't have come here, but blind panic, and… I don't know! Boom, shut up, you're panicking," Tabitha wheezed as she began to pull on my arm down the street.

I tried to direct her mind, rather than sooth her. If she was afraid, she'd need to be alert.

"What happened?" I asked as I began to move in time so she wasn't dragging me.

"We got smoked out. I've been friendly with some of the X-Men before and that hasn't always gone down well," Tabitha admitted before I pulled her into an alley, pressed us into the dumpster, raising my dark jacket to cover Tabitha's bright red, and stained, shirt.

"Shh…" I said under my breath. Tabitha did so, clearly having been in some trouble before to know when she should listen. I was in fully spy mode cause I heard something that made me alert.

The ignition of a flame.

I slowly pulled Tabitha around a dumpster as the quiet street blazed orange for a moment. I didn't peak, I didn't check, and I barely breathed, but after a moment, the sound of a truck raced past, men hollered at each other to drive as the 'fun' was over. Tabitha clenched her hand, one of her energy balls forming at the voices, but I kept her in place.

I looked just enough to see what could only be described as a mix of drunks, angry businessmen, and other such. One of them angrily sprayed a flamethrower nozzle in the air, igniting the air and casting that hellish light over everything.

"Fucking Purifier fanboys," Tabitha spat before we stood up. I heard sirens now, it was like New York came alive in ten minutes.

I don't know what was worse, that these were just fanboys or the fact the fanboys were this dangerous, but some group called the 'Purifiers' were worse.

"Come, let's get back to my place and I'll patch you," I began, but Tabitha pulled her hand out of mine with a shake of her head.

"You don't get it, do you? You hang around me and it's your house that gets cooked next. Mutants should stick with Mutants. You're not involved," she said with a pained snarl, but none of her anger was directed at me, not directly.

"I'm already involved." I said, but had to admit the idea of bringing people to my door to 'cook' my kids alive made me… uneasy.

"We still need to call the police-" I began and Tabitha gave me a laugh that was part hollow, part scream.

"Half of them would hang me in a cell. Sandra, you don't get it. You're the only 'nice' person. Maybe 1 in 10 people have a 'good' reaction when they learn I'm a Mutant. I'm a murderer, do I explode in a nuclear fire? Am under that cooky Xavier or the terrorist Magneto? You can't ever 'just' be a Mutant," she said, tired as she leaned against a grimy wall.

Her neck looked bad, and it seemed to stretch down the back of her shirt. She must have been attacked in her bed or… I winced at the thought she pulled off burned clothes before running.

In my heart, I could not sleep or look Nico in the eyes if I left Tabitha like this… out here.

"Give me 24 hours. I have an idea, but stay with me tonight. Let me tend to your neck, even if you want to leave after an hour," I said and the girl took a moment to answer.

"No cops," she finally said, putting her price down.

I didn't need cops. I had something better.

Steve, Bruce, Jarvis, and if all else failed, I'd try Natasha.

If I felt utterly out of options, I'd ask for Tony.

The idea of Tabitha Smith and Tony Stark in the same room gave my mature sensibility a horrible feeling of doom.

They could never meet.

11: Burn! Strike!

"Are you married?" Emma asked.

"I'm sixteen," Tabitha responded evenly.

"Where do you work?" Emma went on without missing a beat.

"In looking good," my 'guest' said, just as succinct.

"If you're a Mutant, can you fly or turn into a wolf?" Emma carried on as I got my old dusty first aid case out of a box. I had not long left a message at the Stark Company for a callback from Bruce or Steve. I said no cops, but also letting them know something was up was also fair game.

Even Tabitha couldn't deny that it was unfair to give a general alert out.

"I am neither the di… divine Angel or Wolfbane," Tabitha said as Nico closed the blinds and set up the couch for Tabitha to sleep on, looking far less sour once he saw how badly she had been hurt. I gave him a look and Nico shrugged, silently telling me he wasn't the one to spill the beans on Tabitha's mutant status.

I suppose the girl did it herself when I was out of the room. Perhaps to scare Emma and make me kick her out without actually leaving? Tabitha was a strange one. I checked my supplies and double checked any expiration date.

The worst thing I could do was try to help was medicine turned to poison.

"Emma, stop bothering her," I called out but Tabitha raised a hand.

"I'm cooked and in her house. It's fine," she said as if trying to diffuse any trouble when there really wasn't any. Logic Sandra raised a brow and my mind almost began to go down a path without my conscious thought behind it.

Detached, aloof, distant, avoids connections or admitting feelings… attempted to play things down…

I… couldn't think of that right now. I could handle burns, a mutant hate-group, or potential abuse trauma from a family unit or general shitty life, but not all of it at the same time. It was just by luck I got a charge, the feeling of warmth unmistakable.

It must have been rushed along due to the surprise tonight and general stress about Tabitha's state… and my own inadequacies on knowing what to do.

I'd file that under 'deal with soon'. A casefile that Logic Sandra kept at her side at all times.

I put the charge into First Aid. Perhaps another field would be useful, but at the moment, I just needed to be able to help Tabitha as she squirmed at my kitchen table, her back exposed with a towel at the front for modesty.

The burn was bad, perhaps even permanently scarring. It ran from the nape of her neck to just midway down her back. She said if she hadn't thrown herself to the side, the burn would be across her face and body instead.

The knowledge filled out and I was interested to see that First Aid didn't 'stop' at plasters and some ice packs. I could begin to see how to remove shrapnel, shards of metal, how to tie off a vein with cloth stripes, how to check for concussion with nothing more than a light, how to remove a limb…

What I call 'First Aid' was someone's hour shift on Tuesday in the middle of a warzone.

It was dirty, it was effective, and it wasn't pretty. I kept people alive and that was all there was to it.

I took Tabitha into the bathroom. Any idea of using creams or such right now was out of the question.

I sat Tabitha down on the edge of my bathtub and used cool water to slowly cool the still red raw skin lightly. I took extra care to avoid the blisters that formed, some as large as coins. Those were important reactions and defences.

"I think I would have preferred to be stabbed than burned," Tabitha gritted her teeth.

"Yeah, the fun's just starting," I promised and carefully wiped down the wound before getting the creams used for mild burns. It was woefully inadequate for some of the damage, but any treatment was a good preventive treatment than not.

After I got through her yelping or hissing, I finally, and carefully spread the see-through wrap over her wound, taping it at the edges.

I couldn't wrap it around her like some binding because if she folded or stretched, the wrap would dig into her burns.

"You had me worried, but you're pretty good at this. A real mental placebo when you act like you know what you're doing," Tabitha carefully put to a spare shirt I handed her. She looked down at the face of the Cookie Monster with a raised eyebrow.

"He'll keep you company," was all I managed soothingly.

Tabitha didn't need to know until a while ago, I didn't know what I was doing! Like she said, some things just made you feel better knowing… and some things didn't. Returning to the kitchen, I spotted Nico doing his best to grind herbs into a paste which we could use if we ran out of stuff.

"Anything I make here is never going to be as good as the stuff in an actual hospital," Nico warned Tabitha as he moved his hands rhythmically.

"Yeah, well, I can give up some potency for some privacy in return," the girl responded dryly.

I wandered over and asked him about the stuff.

"I'm better at wards. Magic potions and medicine is finicky and it takes a lot of attempts to get it just right. Most of what I make is mild to almost home remedies," he explained.

"What, no health pots? I thought magic was broken?" Tabitha whined as she laid her head on my table, closing her eyes.

"What I'm making would have made me a grand healer and sage in olde times. Weirdly, a few hundred years of advancement evens the playing field out. People can literally inject you with stuff and regrow eyes or fingers," Nico grumped, pointing his whisk at Tabitha.

He wasn't wrong. We had a man who was literally flying about in a metal suit, made of pieces of rocks we tricked into thinking with lightning.

Tabitha would need her wrap changed and more careful cleaning done to prevent infection. If a burn got infected then things could go south faster than my career prospects in Oscorp. I had a feeling that Tabitha being medically treated would bring attention from people she clearly didn't want.

But if she was going to die… at what point do I override that?

Moral issues aside, I set an alarm for a few hours to wake up and change Tabitha's stuff. Tonight was going to be a hard one. Thankfully, I wasn't working until mid-afternoon.

As far as I remember? I didn't dream of other Sandras.

I dreamed of snow and a long road.

It was peaceful.

Tabitha was gone when my final alarm went off. I had woken up twice to do the changing and each time she seemed more regretful to be a charge under my care. I don't think she was the one to enjoy showing weakness or being actually dependent on someone.

The blanket and pillow were neatly stacked and my key slipped under the door, showing Tabitha had locked it as she left. The place felt a little empty with her gone abruptly. I made a conscious choice to track her down if she didn't appear soon.

Nico could get me started and my Detective along with my Spy skills would do the rest, hopefully. I had my morning charge and pondered what to do with it as I made breakfast for everyone. Nico had tried to stay awake to help me, but he was a teenager and he was fighting a losing battle against a body that demanded obscene amounts of sleep to grow.

As I flipped pancakes with such ease I looked like I was sleepwalking through the process, I thought about my plans. I hadn't quite mastered the instinctual knowledge of flipping or such, but there was enjoyment in the act now.

Before, food was to be consumed and cooked with little fuss.

Now? Food coming together was fun.

Like a good pancake, my own plans would come together as well as I really wanted to make sure I was investing and using my money on the new building and anything involved with it wisely.

I put another charge into Finance.

The star glowed brighter before the knowledge of business and the various avenues of pooling my cash into means to return more cash continued to grow. A lot of it was more on the practical side, updating what I knew about supply and demand. It was less about thinking and how to check the area, its populace, its desires, and what facilitates them.

A butcher shop was no good in a majority vegan community, but it was hardly any good in a meat-eater community that had a butcher shop on every corner either. The knowledge contained several tips on how to secure a fee return of some percent, even if the business went bust.

It was like insurance, but for money.

And like every other field that reached this field, the strange ideas flowed.

I stared into space as the blueprints for a literal suit made from dollar bills filled my mind, the 'costume' was garish, but also seemed easy to repair by slapping cash on it. Another design came with the ability to 'melt' down the paper of Dollar bills into a slurry, which would harden into something like steel for an hour.

Who would even have the money for this ludicrous display of wealth and why would someone devote such amazing technology as 'seamless' repair and 'material conversion' on Dollar bills?

It had to be a Sandra that didn't have kids, nothing else made sense. I always knew they'd eat me out of my home, but a fortune?

Well… they were lucky there cute.

Once everyone was fed, it was time to leave.

"Happy week anniversary to my magical awakening," I stretched as I strolled down the street.

"Getting fired from Oscorp isn't exactly magical, but I can see your point," came Natasha's voice as she stepped into line with me, walking with the same casualness as I had been; like we were a couple of besties.

My Spy skills wanted to kick in, but sometimes the best attempt at hiding my skills was simply not to use them. I simply declared Natasha was not a threat… and really hoped I didn't whip out my new urge to counter-espionage her.

"Well… it did invite a potentially cursed item into my home," I recalled with a forced smile.

"Key word is 'potentially'," Natasha pointed out. I looked at her flatly.

"The keyword is 'cursed'!" I said with exasperation. I think she was amused but she eyed my fingernails, nodding as she saw they were less 'scratched someone's eyes out' and more 'nail-biter'.

"Steve wanted me to drop in," she dropped casually.

"Makes sense; you are… aware of things," I said as Natasha led me to a small park between some apartment buildings. I didn't mind as I liked to drop in early to work so I had time to kill.

"More than aware. We're just going to look like you're telling me all about how your love life is terrible, and I'm going to nod sympathetically and tut on cue just in case anyone is watching," Natasha explained in a warm tone with a smile that made her look like a empty bimbo airhead.

"Wait, why are we discussing my love life? Yours can suck too," I pointed out with a grimace, my best smile at the moment.

"Mines sucks by choice and the inability to let anyone close. Your love life sucks because most men let you down and you devoted everything to kids that will one day move out and cause you to have a mid-life crisis when you're in your 40s," Natasha said back and I gaped at her.

"I don't have a reply to that," I admitted after a moment.

"It's fine, you'll think of one in the shower tonight," Natasha promised before she exhaled.

"Sorry… long night," she said before clearing her throat.

"Steve thought you should know what happened and given the girl that left your apartment with the burns peeking out of a much too big shirt… I agree," the red-head said as she 'casually' leaned back to enjoy the morning.

"Purifiers and fans tried to burn down someone's house," I offered and my companion was quiet for a moment.

"Purifiers are the collection of actual Mutant haters. They were under the command of a former military man called William Stryker; a man notorious for his utter hatred of Mutants due to his own son emerging as one. The details are hazy, but their son was dangerous and inflicted trauma on the family before Stryker… reached out to people and when that didn't work, his son vanished from the public, but no alarm was raised," Natasha began and I sat rapt, the earlier sting on my lovelife losing to this interesting, if odd tale.

"Stryker began to announce the Mutant gene and its 'taint' turned family and children that would be perfectly normal otherwise into dangerous monsters. The Purifiers gathered, at first, under banners of people who had experienced or had lost someone to the 'X-Virus' as they coined it. Mothers whose children tore apart the home with fire or elder siblings tormented by their younger ones with their powers, that sort of thing," the spy went on.

I thought of Tabitha and her behavior of disconnecting where she could.

"Then it became a locked society where pain and fear began to become hatred. Kids raised there became adults with weapons then the events of Magneto and Charles Xavier began to get recorded and posted with the rise of cellphone. More Mutants appeared and more families struggled. The Purifiers began to get tired of waiting for the order to kill or the legal right to end the 'Mutants' so they became like a Militia," Natasha explained as she flicked her hair and fake laughed as if I told a great joke.

"But, people have to know they're dangerous," I pointed out and Natasha shrugged.

"Yeah, but they carefully don't become 'too' dangerous," she said and I had no idea what she meant until Spy Sandra kicked in.

An occasional threat that came and went would be dealt with… if everything else just stopped too. There were just always more dangerous threats to deal with than some ragtag 'militia' that commited arson or hate speech on a small 'scale'.

"The Purifiers used to be a big deal, a real march of the troopers sort, but they've learned to work in chapters and splinter groups. Now, they don't even use the name when they go to 'work'. They're doing a lot to let their hate become normalized. They learned if they stopped saying 'Us Purifiers' and instead say 'Us Humans' they can infect a lot more people," Natasha stretched once.

"How do you stop them? They burned a teenager and burned her home down potentially," I asked, hoping she'd have an answer despite the illogical question of how asking how to stop people being stupid.

"Do what we do for all outdated and violent ideas," Natasha stood up and looked me in the eyes.

"You simply make it not worth it to be a Purifier. You make leaders targets, you smear them, you laugh at them, you bury their news, you suffocate their support, you drain their funds, and you force exposure. Then you do all that over and over until the world one day looks up and goes 'who the hell are these idiots'?" Natasha explained and then smiled, an almost real one.

"Does that work?" I asked, honestly curious and the spy looked around.

"Well, I've learned if cutting off heads doesn't work, you got to poison the heart. I'll walk you to work. I need a coffee; the stuff where I work tastes bad in comparison," Natasha offered.

I accepted, but something her story made me curious.

I wonder what happened to William Stryker's son?

What happened to Stryker?

When I asked Natasha, all she would say that he was enjoying the experiences of the lakes of Canada and likely was retired.

Sounds far too nice for a man that started a hate group, but who was I to not be thankful such a man was no longer an issue?

"I'm going to need a Hummingbird," Tabitha said as she wandered in near the end of my shift. She looked to be in clothes closer to her style and I was pleased to see she had convinced someone to change her wraps, a clear sign since mine were clear and the new ones were blue-tinted.

"How are you?" I asked, looking around to see Natasha was definitely not lurking behind a potted plant or in some cardboard box. I had no idea why Spy Sandra made me look at boxes closely, but it was like a bad habit.

Tabitha gave me a spin to show she was looking fresh.

"A friend let me crash on their sofa. They owe me so I totally don't mind eating their food and making a mess," Tabitha grinned before the expression warmed slightly to me.

"But, not that I don't appreciate what you did, Sandra. I just don't like… ya know?" she waved a hand to waft the unsaid words at me.

"Saying goodbye?" I teased slightly and she shot me a set of finger guns.

"You get it," she agreed.

I got her a cup and when Mr Geoff shuffled out with a nod, I knew I was free. I was amazed at my boss' work ethic. He was doing a double shift and didn't grumble once. He needed more workers, but I don't think he liked having a lot of unknowns behind the counter.

I sat down by Tabitha and decided to casually start the conversation as she slowly relaxed as rain pelted the window. Her rush was mostly over, but the dregs made her giddy to the eye.

"Tabitha, I'm going to be a landlord soon of a building that's a bit of a shitshow in Brooklyn. I was wondering if you needed a place to live, if you'd want to be one of my first tenants?" I said slowly.

"Sure, let the girl stay in your new place when her last one got burned down!" she said cheerfully before looking away.

"Bad idea, Mama Bear. You're inviting shit you don't even understand into your place that could go to racist old ladies or a nice couple from Poland or some Russian weirdo who stuffs pigeons but is polite," Tabitha pointed out.

"It's not for free. I do want to charge you rent," I said and Tabitha leaned in more curious now.

"I mean if you're going to be robbing me with a smile, that's different. How shitty? I mean I won't go above a 4 on the fancy scale, but I'm not a 1 kind of gal either. The rats have got to at least be smaller than me and the dead bodies in the walls can't be over ten," she bargained with almost a straight face.

I thought of the building that I was going to get very shortly with all the warmth and affection it deserved in its current state.

"A solid 2 on a good day," I said bluntly.

"Is there… hot water?" Tabitha asked in a voice that dared not project hope. I gave her a snort.

"Who do you think I am? Richy Rich? You'll get lukewarm at best and like it," I said with mock gruff and Tabitha swooned.

"Lukewarm! Bless my little socks," she grinned.

We shared a lot of amused comments over my new 'paradise'.

I could tell she was on the fence about it, but when I swung it like she was doing me a favour she finally relented she'd think about it. I wondered how she'd get the payment before deciding if she needed help, she would ask.

If nothing else, I could always ask Mr Geoff if he needed a worker who wasn't afraid to kick rude customers out.

But I wasn't going to be too naive. Once I got my Paradise Building repaired and stable. I was going to invest in a lot of fire protection and security knowledge. I wasn't going to let some Mutant-hater assholes burn my paradise.

Paradise…

I thought of the rundown, hollowed out, wreck of a building.

It seemed more a condemnation to live there than a reward, but what the hell? It needed a name for the moment.

AeKure Paradise.

What a name.

12: Purifiers? Grate...

"Well?"

The desk was clear and Natasha leaned back in the office. The nondescript office matched the dull building in an uninteresting street.

"Not an enemy agent," she said simply. The papers on the desk were decorative, but they let Coulson look busy as he shuffled them.

"That leaves a lot of other things," he said casually. Phil Coulson was an interesting man, but Natasha preferred the raw aggression of Fury, but Fury was dead for all intents and purposes to the world. Coulson had a more… watchful approach. Something was rotten in SHIELD and Fury had done the best thing for the time.

Remove himself from the power and game to assess the game being played. It could take months or years, but his death at the hands of Loki proved to be too good of a chance for Fury to pass up.

His corpse had been quite striking, even Natasha needed to look twice.

Stark was going to be furious he wasted genuine good words on the man at his funeral.

Coulson and Hill were currently in an unspoken election, both trying to push the other to lead so they could remain in the field, but Natasha cared less who called the shots and more the fact they seemed to believe Fury was just as dead as the rest of the Avengers.

"AeKure has a gift for… grasping things, if I had to suggest things. The more time we interact, the more she seems to grow in the art of spotting threats and acting in manner I would see in a recruit into the job," Natasha brushed her hair out of her face for a moment.

"Mutant?" Coulson asked and Natasha raised a brow at him, silently asking him if he thought Natasha could peer into someone's DNA. He stared back, just as confident.

"Hairs from her apartment were processed as norm for any new person of interest. No markers suggest a Mutant gene, but you already have the report," Natasha reminded him.

"Reports can be faked and your opinion is usually more accurate," he said, tidying his desk and putting the reports into a drawer.

"No. I've never heard of a Mutant getting a power this late outside of 'Omega-Influences'," Natasha began, slowly picking her words as she broached topics that could land her in some hot water if she said aloud in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I doubt Legion popped by her home and left after a cup of coffee," Coulson pointed out, showing how much his 'fuck' meter was running out after the events of this year.

"Which leaves deviant, science, magic, Asgardian, and anything else we pretend doesn't exist when people ask," Natasha stood up to stand by Coulson's desk.

"Do you think she's stable?" the question came and Natasha nodded without really stopping to think about it.

"Keep her kids safe, don't lock her away, don't trap her, and let Bruce or Steve continue to be a positive influence and even if she turns out to be some world-ending threat? She's going to be on our side," Natasha said with confidence.

"On our side? Or in our employment?" Coulson asked, the question poignant.

"A friend… anything else we should take where we can," she replied before walking out.

I yawned as I opened the Brewer's door, doing an open shift. Tabitha barged in before I even got it all the way. She was carrying a junker of a laptop and a tourist map of New York.

"Coffee please, any," she said, handing me a twenty that looked a little… singed. I blinked at her, not really expecting a customer for some time.

"Are you okay? You looked like you haven't slept and this twenty smells cooked," I asked.

"An ATM exploded and some cash flew out, the thing caught fire so pardon the smell, but no… I am not okay," Tabitha announced as she waited for the laptop to turn on after finding a suitable outlet near the corner.

"And why did it explode?" I asked as I slowly brewed normal coffee. Tabitha was not getting Humming bird in this state.

"My bank balance was so high it crashed, are you done asking questions?" Tabitha snapped and glared at me before she closed her eyes to inhale once, hard.

"Sorry… you are not the target of my shitty behavior right now," she said, more to herself than to me. Some coping mechanism for her temper I saw. I saw her back of her neck was roughly wrapped and it looked almost like she did it herself.

"Talk to me, what's going on?" I asked as I placed the large coffee down with a soothing taste. Tabitha took it and drained almost half of the scalding stuff in a single gulp. Barista Sandra began to grow faint at the fact most of it didn't even touch her tongue.

"Well, I am here, being rude. A… friend? Yeah, I guess she's a friend in a 'through a friend' way. A friend of mine is missing. She's not the vanishing type, but I only found out last night when her roommate began to ask questions. Ana doesn't wonder off, she's got a mad number of strays she watches and she'd rather cut off her own nose than not look after them," Tabitha said, finishing the coffee which she held out for me to get another without a word.

That was a lot of words in a rapid fashion.

"And Ana is also a Mutant?" I asked slowly, sitting down by her. Tabitha looked up, blinking before she nodded.

"Tatiana, she um… takes on properties of things. She's like that bitch, Rogue, but if Rogue was actually likeable, but she tends not to use her power because it freaks her animals big time," Tabitha said, looking ready to pass out as she tapped her laptop.

Okay, Rogue was a name. But I had to focus on the important thing right now.

"So, a girl is missing. Have you contac-" I cut myself off as Tabitha just looked at me.

"Ignoring last night a lot of buildings were set on fire? Tatiana is technically a runaway and if the police find her they have a duty to return her to a shithole, so no I haven't," Tabitha announced. Given how Tabitha herself acted in response to genuine kindness, I could see her taking much more drastic response to the idea of anyone being forced into an abusive environment.

"Maybe I could help?" I asked without thinking. Logic Sandra lowered her glasses with a raised brow.

'But Sandra, you are getting involved in a potentially politically charged Mutant affair which could bring risk down on your family? Why did you offer?' she asked me and my brain fired back a response that I felt worked.

'Tabitha alone. Remind Sandra of children. Sandra help Tabitha! Mother insistics overrule puny logic!'

'Illogical, but fitting. Carry on,' Logic announced. Tabitha looked like she was already going to turn me down so I unfolded her map and the circles she had made on, pulling Detective and Spy Sandra together for a meeting.

I still had a charge from waking up, but I hadn't spent it due to the rush to get to work…

I put it into Investigation because if I could help Tabitha even a little to find her friend, it was worth it. The star glowed and began to feed me knowledge of several things. Mostly the ability to spot incidents and oddities in facts presented. How to tell a sort of bullet from another. How to pop trunks or pick locks. I got a basic understanding of a poison which was gleefully used by Spy Sandra, giving me a more complete set of simple poison understanding than investigation alone would have provided.

Cyanide was a popular one and had an almond scent rather than a strong chemical smell.

Also, stakeouts were really boring.

But thankfully, to offset the many ways I could discover about how someone was capable of being murdered or escaping the law, I also got new inventions…

The first was a sort of short range tracker that no matter how I turned the design about? I could not make the thing in anything but a 'S' shape. Another came with a sort of weave pattern I could put into a trench coat that would stop 'a few' low caliber bullets. The idea of the weave was pretty good if not for the simple fact was they were specifically designed to bind to the fabric of coats.

"You look like you need to sneeze," Tabitha muttered, eyes half-closed.

"Brain fart," I muttered before pouring over the map and the new sites Tabitha was trawling. I had the time as Tabitha had walked in at 7 and most customers wouldn't swing by until 8. The map denoted five different buildings the Purifiers had hit last night. Tabitha had marked the ones that went up in flames, but there were smaller black circles dotted between each red one.

"Black circles are just where scuffles broke out or where people saw Purifiers about. Ana's building is in one of those black circles," she explained. I was a little impressed she had already gathered this much.

"It's routine by now. Attacks happen, we communicate and regroup. I sometimes wake up thinking life is good then get told about three assaults or a Mutant going on a power trip against some asshole drunks," Tabitha explained when she saw me looking.

"Ana's building wasn't torched?" I asked, frowning as I wondered why Purifiers would bother grabbing Mutants. The group hardly seemed like they'd kill a Mutant and not brag about it, so if Ana wasn't simply missing and was taken…

Why?

"Nope, even though, if they knew about Ana, they knew about Kiden so they wouldn't spare her," Tabitha frowned. I blinked at the names I was picking up. I guess I was looking a little lost so I was filled in.

"Kiden, she's like a time… stopper or a super speedster? She doesn't explain it well, but if she uses her powers, people end up with broken arms a lot so maybe they didn't want to mess with Kiden?" Tabitha shrugged helplessly.

Spy Sandra and Detective Sandra could both see a distraction in the rough circle around Tatiana's apartment. Five buildings set aflame and a single Mutant kidnapped that Tabitha knew of. Mutant deaths were a bonus, Tatiana was the goal or perhaps Kiden if they mistook the two.

"I can call people who specialise in things like this? Not cops, but heroes?" I said and Tabitha shrugged as she closed the laptop.

"I won't stop you, but I'm going to keep looking and I know areas to avoid so I already know where to start looking," Tabitha said, somewhat darkly. I shot her a startled look.

"Tabitha, you haven't slept or showered. Have you even had anything to eat since last night?" I asked and she was quiet long enough to give me an answer.

"I can't have a pizza while kicking it back in a bubble bath when someone is needing help. I already dropped a message with the X-Men, but they must be busy fighting the Hellfire Club or maybe Grey went nuts again," Tabitha scoffed, rubbing her eyes with irritation.

"I'm sure Tatiana would forever be in your debt if you turned out and collapsed in exhaustion to join her in her jail cell or wherever she's being kept," I began getting a look of annoyance from Tabitha, but I had dealt with Nico, I was a master of the sass.

"I can't do nothing. Kiden is already going mad looking and neither Xavier or Magneto care about a Mutant that isn't going to be a team changer or great publicity. Xavier would only turn up if we agreed to go to his stupid school and I can do without the 'you need training' crap. Sandra, I am going to look for my friend," she stressed that last word.

I was beginning to think maybe Tabitha wasn't the greatest source of unbiased information about the X-Men, but I had to think fast. I didn't want Tabitha to vanish as well.

"Give me a day and if you see no progress or any hint I'm doing nothing to help, you can charge into wherever you want with your eyes glued shut and hands tied behind your back," I challenged and she stared at me before I shoved my house keys at her.

"Sleep and eat… I'll be home by 2 and we'll do this together," I said.

We gave each other a long look before Tabitha took the key with intentional slowness.

"I don't like this," she said finally. I gave her a smile.

"Not asking you to, just to trust me," I pointed out.

"That's a big request from me, but… everyone gets one chance," Tabitha said then stood up with an almost zombie-like posture.

"You sofa is pretty comfy…" she admitted and shuffled away. I watched her go with a frown.

I just hoped I could live up to my words. A girl's life could depend on it.

By the time I got home, I saw a most awkward sight.

Natasha's gun was pressed close, but not directly against Tabitha's forehead as the girl had two large glowing plasma balls in each hand.

"Sandra, you know this hag?" Tabitha asked without a hint of fear of a weapon aimed at her head.

"She invited me to dinner, have you been invited?" Natasha returned the words casually.

"Tabitha, this is Natasha. Natasha, stop pointing your guns at someone I invited into my home," I instructed, voice strained. There was a second's pause before Natasha made her gun vanish… somewhere. Tabitha sniffed and walked over to the window in my living room and nudged it open with her foot before she threw the two balls out into the air where they detonated a second later with enough force to rattle the windows.

"Bruce called Tony who is currently fighting Gargoyle in one of his facilities outside of town. Steve is likewise unavailable as we cannot involve Captain America in this kind of thing," Natasha said before Tabitha cut her off.

"Mutants. You don't want America's hero being seen involved in support of Mutants," she snapped.

"Politics is the only thing keeping the Avengers legal and most of the heroes operating in any fashion. Mutants and a kidnapped one involves overstepping local police authority in New York. Avengers are the last defence or the only response to threats normal forces cannot compete with," Natasha replied without any hint of being upset.

"So, because the Purifiers are just normal people with guns, the Avengers can't actually be seen operating against them?" I asked dubiously.

"Exactly," the spy said before she leaned against my counter.

"So, why are you here then? You sound like you're a part of them," Tabitha asked with a stiff tone.

"I don't exist and am good at my job," Natasha said simply. I looked between them before clearing my throat.

"So, can you help?" I asked slowly. Natasha looked at me, lips turned up.

"I already found their potential holding space for the local force. The question is, what help can you provide me and Boom Baby here," she jerked her chin at Tabitha who was eyeing my knife block with increasingly tempted eyes.

Poor girl wouldn't make it, but I applauded her confidence.

I gave her a look which I hoped conveyed my feelings of nervousness.

What could I even offer? I didn't know how to apply my martial arts, I didn't know how to handle guns beyond some theory, I didn't know anything about Mutants or locating them…

"The building is a two story old steel mill, the yard is spread out with non-marked trucks, but the business is a shell. It's eventually traced back to a known Mutant-bigot with some cash. Maybe the local funder of this Purifier chapter. The building was built back in the 60's. It has little vent access, a serious health risk and denies easy access," Natasha began to list and I stared at her as Tabitha looked at us with cautious eyes.

"The side doors were welded shut recently and while no cameras seem pointed at it, it seems the best entrance-" she said and something leapt out at me like lightning.

Custodian Sandra debated the thickens of a door that could be wielded to a metal frame set in old brick. Security would mean if the door had been welded, it was a risk and/or meant they lacked the forces to guard all entrances. This was transferred to Spy Sandra who pinpointed places where charges and explosives could knock it out before I remembered stealth was key and thus explosives was thrown off the table, the goal was shifted to Chef Sandra of all people who raised a blueprint.

"I can offer something," I admitted and Natasha smiled like she had struck gold and Tabitha gave me a hopeful look.

"Tell me what you need and it's yours," the spy encouraged and I merely flexed my fingers.

"I actually should have everything I need in my kitchen, but… just… don't…" I struggled to articulate my sudden panic and fear.

Tabitha was at my side, nudging me with much clearer eyes than that morning.

"Trust me. I get it and if the hag doesn't?" she said, pointing a thumb at Natasha who tilted her head, "then I'll make sure she doesn't bother you. Help us and I'll get the non-crazy Mutant community to support you. We remember people who help us," she said softly.

"I also work with people that do weird things. I can keep it professional," Natasha said dryly. I inhaled once and moved with the idea of the blueprint consuming me. I took my only cheese grater out of the drawer and turned my eye to an old slow cooker I barely used, having the screws out of the thing before I really knew what was happening.

I pulled at wires and copper pieces. My hands moved in a way that made my knuckles hurt after a while as I ended up stripping all but one side of the grater, using the heat of a heated knife to bend the metal in a curve, the holes warping slightly to become jagged as wires ran the edge of the metal, clipped in at several places by copper rings.

The power was going to be an issue, but a happy accident of a toxic Hummingbird stimulate derivative allowed a strong chemical reaction if I didn't mind never being able to switch the power source in the future, which I didn't. If the thing broke, Natasha and Tabitha just had to not drink or smell the fuel or they might end up sick.

I turned around to see the sun had shifted in the sky and a burnt rubber smell was in the air.

I held up my Steel Grater with a dazed looked. It was a crescent-shaped device with two cloth-wrapped handles to grip. The middle had large arrow shape grates that would shear normally, but as the handles were gripped, a buzzing noise hummed and the holes seemed to glow slightly red.

It would grate metal, but I suppose it could remove flesh from bone if someone needed it to…

"That was terrifying," Tabitha announced as Natasha slowly took the device with delicate fingers.

"I handed you a glass of water, you used the water to cool the metal and smashed the glass to cut the wires when you lost your knife," Tabitha said faintly.

I swallowed once.

"I was inspired?" I tried and at the looks I got?

It didn't sound like that reassured them.

Natasha lined up one of my spoons and moved the Steel Grater over it, a second later a long metal stripe fell to the ground and the spoon head clattered after it, leaving behind only a handle.

"I think it's grate!" Tabitha said, trying to cheer me up as I stared at my ruined kitchen, looking more akin to a trash heap. I stared at her then just began to giggle before laughing as Natasha eyed things in my apartment to test her new toy on.

I stopped laughing when she headed towards my front door.

--

13: Rescue! Ressurection?!

The McKinsey Steel Mill was another eyesore in New York. It blended in because it was surrounded by a dozen other eyesores with almost the same style and empty looking feeling about them.

Tabitha would have walked past the place and never given it a second look. There was the main way in, but the woman, Romanoff, looked like she'd rather chop her own hand off than go in through the front entrance.

"If it was a party? If it was a rich stiff gathering, and maybe if you weren't here? I'd go through the front. But this is a majority ego-centric all man workforce. We stick out," Romanoff said flatly. Tabitha gave her a sarcastic smile.

"Sorry to bum your entrance out, but you're stuck with me," she said, meaning it. The only fact Tabitha was good at sticking with people, and Romanoff wasn't knocking her out, let her keep up. Tabitha's earpiece crackle.

" Please stop fighting. I'm nervous enough," Sandra's voice came through the ear pieces Natasha had supplied. The woman was a street over in a parking lot.

It was odd to have equipment, let alone support, but Romanoff making Sandra their woman in the background wasn't a bad idea now that Sandra spilled she could casually just learn anything she wanted as long as it was educational or something.

Sandra had been cagey about it and Tabitha was more than ready to stick up for the woman's right not to overshare. It could get annoying when well-meaning people harped on about your powers, but people who didn't let it go?

That was a whole other issue.

But Sandra was that sort that compromised.

She explained things to an extent. She could learn things, but she didn't go into details nor specifics, just the fact that she could eventually make things in the vein of that weirdo grater. Romanoff wanted more info, but time was wasting.

Sandra promised an explanation once things 'calmed down'. Tabitha was optimistic at best…

Natasha looked up at the barbed wire around the top of the brick wall before she smoothly climbed to the top of a dumpster and, from a backpack, retrieved the Steel Grater, the thing looking absolutely ridiculous in the flickering nearby street light and the dark of the night.

"How does it work? Like… what area of science does this thing hail from?" Tabitha asked quietly, tapping the ear piece. There was a moment's pause before Sandra responded; no doubt texting her kids. Nico and Emma weren't happy being left out of the cool operation, but Sandra had got them to work on warding the house just in case. Nico would ward, Emma would supervise as cool sisters did.

" It's a sort of a magnetic something charge that generates a field that kind heats then condenses that energy… to uh… do something to the something in the metal… when it moves?" Sandra said slowly as if unsure of her own knowledge.

Tabitha crossed her arms, the black wooly knit cap on her head itchy.

"I am filled with confidence beyond belief at your words," Tabitha said bluntly as Romanoff sheared the barbed wire away like trimming hedges. The rusty metal falling in silent strips as fast as Natasha could move her arms.

" I know the idea, but I'm lacking a lot of basics that go into it. Like maybe I learn some engineering or maybe some thermodynamic theory… I could blab on, but the stuff came from hardcore cooking knowledge. It doesn't have the details included," Sandra sighed.

"It works, that's all I care about," Romanoff said and nodded to Tabitha to follow as she hoisted herself over the now cleared wall.

Tabitha was less 'graceful' than the other woman, but she managed to land easy enough and follow the spy to the side of the building where a lot of overgrown shrubbery had crept up without any maintenance to keep it at bay. Romanoff was silent as the grave when she moved, using the foliage to smother her steps but also made it not rustle.

Tabitha followed her but she occasionally made the odd shuffling noise that got her a look from Romanoff.

If Tatiana wasn't being held hostage, Tabitha would have the wall ahead in pieces with one good arc of her bombs, but she wouldn't risk it until they had the other Mutant, which is why she even considered allowing Romanoff to help out.

Super spies were handy, even if you didn't get on with them. After a moment, Romanoff ran her gloved hand over a dark shape in the brick which looked to be a rusty stain before Tabitha saw the shape of the metal door that Romanoff reported about.

Without a word, the spy used the Grater with quick swipes. It was almost eerie how the thing removed parts of rusty metal that should have squealed or creaked or… something. Sandra's machine was weird, but it was also becoming a little creepy at this point. The barely audible hum was like a malicious wasp.

They both froze when the sound of crunching boots sounded out.

"Fucking slave drivers, just want out for a smoke every so often," a sullen voice muttered as he headed for the mouth of the alley between the outwall and yard. Tabitha felt the weight of the Grater settle in her hands as Romanoff moved, becoming nearly one with the wall at the corner. She waited and Tabitha tensed, ready to Grate some hater's balls off if need be.

A man in a dark jacket and dirty jeans with a low tipped cap appeared, trying to spark a cigarette. Tabitha's mouth dropped open slightly as Romanoff grabbed him with a raised leg, pulling him into the shadows before she used her thighs to choke the guy until his muffled panicked noises went quiet and his flailing hands still.

Romanoff dragged him over the gravel and weeds until he laid nearby.

"Why not just choke hold him?" Tabitha asked and Romanoff patted her gun.

"In case I needed to shoot someone that came after him and I didn't hear over his struggles," she said easily.

"Remind me to never get between your legs," Tabitha muttered and Romanoff took the Grater back.

"Men and women have killed to be there, but you're too young," she said casually and Tabitha eyed her with a cautious look.

Killed? Yeah, and likely those same people died down there. Romanoff likely had her organs and fluids replaced with venom sacs or something.

A second later, Tabitha helped Romanoff lift the metal door away from the frame it had been welded to.

"We're in," Tabitha reported.

" Just get back out and tell me what's going on. I can learn something if you need me to, but depending on what it is, it won't be more than basic stuff," Sandra warned, worry tinged in her voice.

"Roger, Big Momma," Tabitha said and she saw Romanoff smirk before she vanished into the dark hall beyond.

" That name is so not me. Can't I be Inspired or Cure or… something? Anything, Boom?" the woman actually pleaded.

"Radio silence, Big Momma. Boom and Widow entering enemy base," Romanoff insisted. The hallway inside the mill was nasty. Cobwebs, trash, and the smell of dead things left so long they were practically a whiskey brand at this point.

"It's a good sign," Roman- Widows said quietly, "it's undisturbed which means we don't need to expect too much resistance until we meet back up with the main mill," she explained.

"I knew that. Doesn't change the fact if I step in the wrong place? An old rat body is going to crack like a wishbone," Tabitha insisted.

"At least we're not going in by the plumbing," Widow responded darkly, gun at the ready as she moved in deeper.

Waiting for a joke, Tabitha stared at Widow's back.

Through the… the simple attempt at 'imagining' the smell made her gag silently.

Deeper inside, Widow led Tabitha to a set of stairs that led to disused offices, but the noise of heavy machines and talking was getting louder as they neared the main floor of the mill where a giant space was. Old machines used to rest on the floor, now crudely pushed aside to make room for… something out of a Frankenstien horror flick.

See-through cells lined one wall with lights to reveal them all to be empty. Machines surround a central table hummed as men worked, but they were nothing like any Purifier trash Tabitha had seen before. These guys looked professional and proper.

An ice box was open near a central table showing a badly torn detached arm with wires stuck in it as men fussed over it. The wires ran slowly through different things until they pooled in a jar near the table where a trembling girl rested, the wires connected to IVs in her arm. Tabitha was both glad to see Tatiana had both her arms and looked unharmed.

She stood to start raising hell, but Widow's grip was strong.

"Eight guards on the upper ramparts, maybe more in the hall. All heavily armed. Let me reduce the numbers and when I say go… aim for the power generator on the far side, behind those screens. Don't rush… they wanted her alive this long," Widow breathed almost into Tabitha's ear.

It went against everything in Tabitha to even entertain the idea, but eventually she jerked her head in a sharp nod. Widow moved like a cat and Tabitha returned her attention as two men seemed to be talking about Tatiana and looked more important than the rest. One was a weasel of a guy with a sneer. He had the chin that could have been broken just by tapping it. The other was stronger, intimidating looking.

Black getup, crew cut hair, and about three guns that Tabitha could see on him.

"I suspected if the sample was fresh, the change would be more spontaneous." weasel said and the big guy didn't respond.

"We're doing what we can with synthetic blood and adapting cells, but an arm as degraded as… well, it will take time," he went on.

"Time we don't have," the big guy finally spoke but Tatiana shifted on the table, her usually long hair shrinking and her skin filling out with hair and mass. It looked arduous and painful for Tatiana, her body shifting in pieces and places instead of her more seamless change.

After a moment, her jaw shifted before her face became aggressive and she screamed.

"LOGAN! YOU ANIMAL!" she howled, her eyes seeing something that her power at yet to convince her was not there.

"William Stryker," the big guy said and the name sent a tingle down Tabitha's spine followed by a chill.

"Who… are you?" Tatiana panted as her jaw filled out with a trimmed beard. The big guy pushed the weasel scientist aside to loom over the bound form of Tatiana.

"Of course, we never met, but I know you, Colonel. Do you think yourself resurrected? I will enjoy this, but we must talk first. You took a secret to the grave and I want it," the man hissed. Tabitha licked her lips nervously as another guard 'stepped' back into the shadows without a sound.

"I… no, I was… at the lake," the man Tatiana had become panted, the memories still disorganised.

"You died Colonel. Pitifully, if the reports were true. Really, how did you think a kidnapping of Mutant children would go under the protection of the X-Men? There is bravado and then there is arrogance. I heard you got baptised without an ark to spare," the man said casually as Tatiana finished transforming as the blood continued to filter into her.

"Mutant scum," Stryker hissed, Tatiana lost now under the change. The man grinned.

"Look who's talking. You're currently a Mutant as well, but we don't have all night," he admitted sadly as if he would love nothing more than to keep taunting the dead man.

"Colonel Stryker, military man and advisor of the President at one point. You had a son, Jason… ," the man went on and this made Stryker livid as he struggled against the bindings on the table.

"Jason, as far as I know, is dead, but I don't care about him. What I want to know, Colonel… where is your daughter?" the man breathed. If the mention of the guy's son made him livid? Tabitha saw the mere mention of a daughter made him go white with terror.

"How did you… know about it?" Stryker whispered. The man shrugged.

Tabitha almost screamed for Widow to hurry the fuck up.

"A lot of looking and questioning. You're dead, Colonel, a ghost… now let me have your daughter and I'll promise you that I will remove millions of Mutants as a threat in minutes," he promised and there was a long silence.

"It was… in the old Exeter Asylum but-" he began, but Widow's voice crackled in Tabitha's ear.

" Now!" She ordered and gunfire from across the room hit the scientist in the leg.

Tabitha didn't hesitate before she hurled two bombs at the generator like she was told. The thing sparked and exploded before all the machines powered down and the big guy turned furiously at Tabitha before he looked down at the weeping scientist as the lights flickered. In the moments of darkness, there was a horrible sickening welching sound and the weeping abruptly cut off.

The building's backup lights turned on and Tabitha saw a shadow looming over her on the walkway to her right. The dark clothed dude was already reaching for Tabitha's throat with his hand. How the fuck did he get up here so fas-

"Fuck!" she yelped and without thinking she swiped the Grater that Widow had left with her under her feet and fell through the opening ripped open in the metal floor. Landing on one of the now dead machines attached to Tatiana, she heard Widow's gun cracking and the guy jumped over the space, landing in a noisy roll that cracked the floor.

He rolled to his feet, a large handgun pointed up where Widow's gunfire came from. Tabitha hurled her bomb at his feet, barely shifting him. The gun swung towards her, but Widow was there suddenly, firing shots into the guy's chest.

There was a second's pause before the guy grunted and the bullets landed, flattened on the ground.

Tabitha had been charging another bomb up and when this was crashed into tall and evil, he was lifted off his feet with enough force to shatter bones, but he merely crashed into a table and went over it.

Tabitha turned to Tatiana, the transformation already receding due to either the shitty quality of the blood or the artificial stuff in it. She fumbled at the latch and once she got one hand free, she felt Tatiana's shifting hand wrap around her throat as hate filled the Mutant's eyes.

"Mutant scum, I'll kill all of you!" the shifting voice hissed.

"Tat… iana, I'm really… sorry," Tabitha managed before she sent a bomb into the chest of the other girl and made her fall unconscious as her head smacked off the metal table. She turned, rubbing her throat as she panted. The guy and Widow were duking it out, but whatever Widow threw at him, he shrugged off with a maliciousness, but in return, the guy was nowhere near as deadly as Widow who danced away from his grabs and attempted to smash her to paste.

Tabitha narrowed her eyes and ran full pelt at the guy responsible for burning down Mutant's homes, torturing Tatiana with this shit, and also burning every pair of damn cute boots Tabitha had collected since running away from her piece of shit dad.

"Your ass is cheddar!" Tabitha screamed as she used a chair to launch herself into the air, the guy turned, almost amused at her bravado as Widow's kick between his legs did little to bother him.

He stopped being amused when Tabitha slashed the Grater across his face with a war cry. There was a sort of crackling noise and the Grater shook in her hands and flesh on the guy's cheek peeled back like a blooming floor, exploding flesh meshed over with thin film of wires and plates before they parted like any other metal to the bone beneath.

There was an unholy scream and the Grater began to crack down the middle before it broke and the inner fuel sprayed into the man's open wound. The liquid stank horribly and turned Tabitha's stomach before she backed away as the man wrenched back and forward as his veins turned a dark murky brown until it reached one of his eyes.

Tabitha only saw the thing begin to melt before the guy put his head down and charged through the room and smashed through a solid concrete wall like it was plaster. The Steel Mill groaned as the guy kept making his own doors.

"Big Momma's Grater melted his eye!" Tabitha yelled, her heart pumping too fast to be healthy from the fumes of the fuel alone.

"Worry about that after we get out. Get the girl and run!" Widow barked, looking oddly invigorated by the combat and fuel stench.

Tabitha didn't need to be told twice.

"We'll always be together. However far it seems. We'll always be together," I sang as I waited, "Together in Electric Dreams!" I riffed to the electric guitar solo as the radio blasted the amazing song out.

I hoped Tabitha and Natasha were okay. This radio silence thing made sense, but it was making me angsty… I could trust Natasha to help Tabitha, but I felt a bit of a third wheel as the radio, potential-advice giver, and getaway driver.

A man ran past screaming, his face literally smoking and sparking as he vanished down a dark alley. He looked handsome, but pain was never the best expression on someone's face.

"New York, all sorts," I huffed as he ruined my song's chorus. For the first time, I had two charges waiting to go, but I felt full. Unless something went really wrong, I was pretty sure I could only ever hold two charges. Stockpiling was not going to happen.

I wanted to use them, but what if Natasha and Tabitha needed ancient Greek translations or the weight and speed of an African Swallow for some obscure knowledge? Would Swallows speed and velocity be better with Maths or Ornithology?

Both?

A new song came on.

"Oh! 'Turn around… every now and then… '" I crooned like no one was watching.

I screamed as Tabitha slammed into my car hood, looking smokey and red-faced.

"Drive! Drive!" she banged and climbed into the passenger seat as Natasha lifted what I was sure was a girl with an afternoon shadow and possibly dead into my backseat. I powered Natasha's rental car into high gear and peeled off into night.

"What happened?!" I demanded. Tabitha answered after needing a moment to pant.

"A robot or cyborg resurrected a dead Mutant killer called Stryker to demand to know where his hidden daughter was by transforming Tatiana into him by using his old dead mouldy arm and science we defeated by using your Grater on him which broke and also filled his body with the fuel by accident!" Tabitha yelled before needing to inhale.

I mental white screened before in my mind, Barista Sandra went 'oh fuck, that's not good'.

"He didn't die?!" I yelled back.

"Not that we saw!" Tabitha shouted.

"Stop screaming, please," Natasha said before she calmly reached forward and turned the radio station to the metal wave. I turned to Barista Sandra and tried to figure out what that stuff did to someone who ingested it and lived.

The answer was… not a lot? Maybe. It was a super coffee to the point of toxic… if it got into his bloodstream, he might…

It should be fine! It wasn't the pure potent but still faulty version I could have made, so…

It was going to be fine.

Totally.

It didn't matter for now, I had to get this girl back to my place and hope I could help her. Anything else could be dealt with by Natasha and her super spy friends.

I could show off my charges, potentially. I just hope they didn't want another Grater, I was fresh out of the core material- graters.

Funny that.

14: Mercurial? Drugs?!

I could not wait until I got this new building of mine. Trying to sneak Tatiana into my apartment without my neighbours being nosey or my landlord finding out was stressful. The girl was seriously delirious and occasional her skin… shifted.

Once we got her inside and my door was shut, Natasha went right over to my phone and started punching in area codes that could not exist. I suspected backlines through various government powers that be, to her boss.

Not like you could list those in the phone book casually. I tried not to notice how Spy Sandra took note of the numbers ever so casually. Likely they'd be changed after Natasha used them, but I couldn't help but notice it.

I turned back to Nico and Tabitha muttering angrily over the still unconscious form of Tatiana.

"-have a choice. She was full of angry white old man energy. I had to knock her out," Tabitha said tersely, arms crossed as she stood like a guard dog over her friend.

"You might have cracked her ribs," Nico sighed, his paste covering most of the superficial wounds on Tatiana, making her smell minty and a bit like toothpaste.

"Well, between her acting like a maniac and the attack of the killer-android douche, I didn't have a choice. Besides, your Mom's gadget was amazing," she said, singing that last word. Nico turned to me and I flushed a little around the neck at the praise.

I had never been praised for making anything besides great food and my children.

It felt nice.

Barista Sandra waited, but her ego was too big as it was. She could live without the compliment.

I wandered over and my limited First Aid skills and checked Tatiana's sides, feeling for misaligned parts, but without the ability to see inside her body, I could only admit that all her ribs were still there.

Natasha was still speaking too quietly to hear and I looked around to see Emma was watching this all with interest. I did have two charges, but I had to wonder if it was best to wait for a moment.

I turned to Tabitha, who despite her age, I mentally dubbed Tatiana's guardian for the moment. She would know what the girl would want or know someone who did.

"I told you how I…" I waved a hand, "learn things," I said, eyeing Emma who looked interested. I asked Nico to tell her something if she asked why I was involved or why our kitchen looked like a mad scientist's lab.

"Uh huh?" Tabitha lowered her chin slightly.

"I want to develop some skills in the medical field, see if I can help Tatiana without her needing to go to a hospital, if you'd be okay with that?" I asked slowly. Tabitha thought about it.

"It's not going to be another grater, is it? Even kind of magic, I don't think I could grater the boo-boos away without hurling," she said bluntly.

"I'm pretty sure it won't be," I said after a moment, thinking of how my other inventions hadn't been graters…

Extremely weird, but not graters.

"This is going to be something…" Nico said before I focused my two charges into First Aid, my first time ever spending two charges at once.

I wonder if that's going to have any consqunc-

New York was a healthy dame I watched crumble under a cancer no one wanted to admit was real. I could only smile as doctors who thought they knew better than me blindly smoked cigars with crooks, the medicine needed for sick poor people being shipped elsewhere.

The profession I had promised to serve was now killing the very people I wanted to save. I left the Mercy Hospital, coat turned up at the collar as the rain lashed down on the streets. I didn't go long before I ducked into an alley.

I could sense I was being followed and I turned with a massive syringe in hand to attack my pursuer when my wrist was held tightly by the figure in the dark.

"Madam Nightingale," the gravelly voice said and I huffed as the twin lens of Spider-Man's mask emerged. His black mask and protective black vest looked the worst for wear.

I looked him up and down.

"You look like the cat played with you for a while. I've seen more holes in a poor set of pantyhoses," I said, trying not to wince at the series of bloody holes near his torso, they looked too uniform for bullet holes.

"Vulture, he carried me for a ride. I gave him a ride to the prison dentist after I broke his jaw in return," the masked man admitted as he leaned against the wall, sagging.

If the evil was the cancer, Spider-Man was a dangerous white cell prone to mutation. I couldn't approve of his thirst for violence, but I found myself admitting he was the only one doing anything. I sighed and reached into my bag where my various chemical formulas waited. My experimental stuff was dangerous, but the man before me continued to take them after each fight with little trouble.

He was helping advance cheaper and cheaper medicine for the world and he didn't even want to be paid. I smirked as my large needle made him groan.

"Can't you make those smaller, Madam?" he slightly pleaded. I thought about it.

"Then you'd never learn," I replied flippantly.

I would continue to supply this dangerous man with the ability to heal impossibly fast, to see in the dark, to fight whatever deadly poison he was hit with… I would do that for the man that would help me kill the Green Goblin.

-quences?

My jaw hung open and Tabitha waved a hand in front of my face.

"Sannndra?" she called and I shuddered as if I just stepped on a frog. I blinked at her.

"Sorry, never did two at once," I admitted, only to get confused looks back at me. I waved them off, silently pondered what it was with me and goblins? First I was one, albeit an orange once, now I wanted to kill a green one in another life.

Was I some sort of Goblin Slayer?

I must be an exception so far. I've never been screwed over by a goblin, green or not. I turned my attention to the absolute deluge of combat medic skills I had gotten. My base was rough treatment for survivability and I hadn't strayed from that.

I had a truly frightful knowledge of ways to set bones back into place. This went along with how to even do on-field surgery in the trenches if need be. Nightingale Sandra was a fighter and while she did a lot of clean work, she was most vivid while she was being shot at and trying to staunch blood flow or plug holes.

The knowledge only compounded when I saw how to make the body survive things that it shouldn't. How to make my own tools if need be, and when rarely how to turn a deadman into a groaning pile of meat that would live for another day.

Then, of course, Nightingale's tech began to flow to me. This lady was scary, and I was her in another life! The first blueprint of sorts was the massive syringe I saw her use. It was more than a mere needle. I don't know exactly how she managed it, but some odd metal she found had turned the tip into a near atomic point of delivery, able to pierce metal with some difficulty.

While interesting, I don't think I really saw the need to inject people made of metal with stuff…

The second blueprint was far more interesting. It was a sort of formula that focused on limb regeneration, but it was highly finicky and seemed to be part of a more complete formula. I saw that 1 in 20 people would have no ill-effects. The other 19? It seemed to trigger some odd reaction in the DNA.

Given the thing needed some primo reptile DNA as a base, I was going to go out on a 'limb' and say it would end badly.

The last was a basic sort of vitamin that did something very strange. I swallowed as the vitamin, a sort of super supplement that did give enhanced healing in return with a massive drain in energy, to almost lethal levels, began to tingle.

The vitamin and the Hummingbird coffee drink circled each other like attractive ends of magnets. It was fascinating because the coffee produced a massive energy boost at the cost of general vitality, but the vitamin produced enhanced healing by draining the body's energy reserves.

Mentally, I took apart each blueprint, seeing them in a new way for the first time. I took the parts I need from each, producing a new one entirely. I ended up with some sort of strange pill. The outlier was made from the Hummingbird formula, but the powder inside was a refined Vitamin.

The shell would dissolve, producing massive energy before the vitamin would activate, draining the massive energy instead of the body, it would cancel each other to a point that the taker would be exhausted but far better off.

It wouldn't grant nearly as good as the energy coffee or near the potency of the vitamin on its own, but it was much safer.

I think I lost about 60% potency of the original vitamin, but the results were still impressive I think. I got a notepad and began to write things down before handing them to Nico.

"Go around the corner and get these for me. Take Tabitha," I insisted and Nico read the list.

"Why do you need so much milkshake powder?" he asked dubiously. Tabitha took the list.

"I saw her work. If she needs it, just give it to her," the mutant girl said easily and refused my money.

"You helped Tatiana this far, I can pay for your wacky science stuff," she said easily. Nico eyed her. She smirked at him.

"If you're a good boy, I'll buy you some broccoli for your wacky magic stuff!" she said in a 'baby voice'.

"No thanks, but I'll take a soda," he grunted and followed her outside.

"What will you make, Mom?" Emma asked curiously and I thought about it.

"The Hum Pill, I guess," I named it on the fly.

"Sounds deadly," Emma wrinkled her nose.

I hoped not…

Maria Hill had her back pressed against the aged wood. The Exeter Asylum has been closed for 10 years now, but the rusted gates hadn't been left in tatters, she was sure. She nodded to her team of agents.

She much preferred being here, in the field. She'd let Coulson take the Director's job for now until he fucked up. If he fucked up. Her fellow SHIELD agents moved on her command to approach the building across an overgrown lawn.

Exeter Asylum could have been pretty if the sun hit it right and it was functional, but it shut down when it's barbaric 'treatments' were brought to light. According to the file, no one else had taken an interest in the place except a small operation that was 'dealt' by Frank Castle.

She entered the front door and found the floor disturbed. Romanoff's report on a 'cyborg-enhanced' individual was as useful as saying he might have powers in this day and age. One that had an agenda for finding a mutant that even SHIELD had no information on was…

Worrisome.

"Age 10, developed frequent bursts of violence," came a sudden voice from the grand entrance ahead, someone descending casually. Maria pushed against some cover as her team raised their weapons.

"Age 12, mentally scarred another patient. Now rooms alone," the woman said as she flipped through a very old looking folder.

"Age 15? She murdered her therapist. Interesting reading, no, Agents?" the woman asked, one eye flicking up. Maria gave the signal to wait as she emerged. The urge to shoot the woman and remove the threat was on her mind, but if she was just arrogant and cocky, shooting a source of information was a rookie mistake.

Maria examined the woman who had to be working with their missing cyborg man.

"And you are?" Maria asked, handgun at the ready, aiming for legs if she tried to run. The woman snapped the folder closer with one hand. She was a gaunt figure with tidy brown hair that brushed her neck. Her outfit was black with an open coat to show a white tank top.

She could have been seen as dainty, but the scars across her knuckles and the ever slightly off-center nose suggested violent fighting.

"Mercury," she said with deliberate slowness and Maria fought an inside twitch. They had not long ago got rid of that damn Cape of Mercury and the damn name pops back up again.

"Any relation to the X-Man of the same name?" Maria asked, buying time as her back up team moved in through the back of the building.

"Nope, but doesn't really matter," Mercury said before the folder in her hand simply seemed to melt and drip to the floor in puddles of paper and ink. She was destroying the evidence.

Maria put three bullets in her; one in each leg and one in the arm holding the folder. Mercury blinked in surprise as she crumpled to the stairs, sliding down it with a gasp. The folder's papers flew in the air, scattering like a torn book. Maria moved in, but at the last moment, she pulled back, seeing something wrong. Her reptile brain reacts before her chimp brain processes what was wrong.

No blood. The woman's body convulsed before she laughed and coughed up the bullets, perfectly preserved.

"Almost, Agent, but I'm impressed," she said before she got up. Maria knew they had an incendiary grenade, but that would also destroy the evidence. Maybe they could try tasing her? Once Mercury was standing, she rolled her neck.

"Who do you work for?" Maria demanded, gun cocked as if it was still a threat. Mercury thought about answering for a few seconds.

"Who don't I work for?" she admitted before her body did something strange, a crackle of electric current passed over her body, visible in little flickers of electricity. The next thing Maria knew, she was flying out the front doors of the asylum as her team opened fire.

Rushing to her feet, moved back inside, only to see Mercury blurring in crackles of silver and electricity as she dismantled the SHIELD team. The odd thing was when she was moving like this, her body was liquid as if it didn't hold her shape terribly well when she was moving this fast.

Mercury was leaving little droplets of herself as he dashed about, losing speed. Maria aimed, waiting just a moment before she blew Mercury's ankle to pieces in splatters of silver.

"Back up team, report!" Maria yelled into her coms as pieces of Mercury began to group, acting almost like a hive mind than blown off pieces. There was a scream and one of her team flew through the wall, followed leisurely by a second Mercury. She eyed the first and Maria.

"Man, I do not look good with only one foot," she decided. The first Mercury flipped her off.

"Fuck you. What were you doing back there? Sleeping?" she demanded. They both looked down as Maria's grenade bounced between them. The agents around Mercury were dead and the ones that could flee were.

"Uh oh," both Mercury's said as Maria took off, reporting over all channels about the threat, her heart pumping.

The Asylum went up, the upper floors instantly collapsing in like a fragile house of cards. Maria coughed, feeling woozy as her lungs felt heavy. Likely Mercury wasn't just a name, Maria would need treatment.

She moved over to her remaining team, some of them even managed to grab some of asylum reports before fleeing.

It was only two pages.

She read them on the jet back to HQ.

"Age… 16. Mutant powers manifested. Reported to her parents. Father insisted on treatments. Patient continues to cause damage," Maria read between wheezes.

"Age 18. Patient informed of father's passing. She smiled for the first time. Patient vanished in the night. Location of Ophelia Stryker is currently unknown," Maria finished quietly.

It had some useful info, but Maria couldn't see how this would help Mercury and the other guy find Stryker's daughter or why she was even sought after…

Maria closed her eyes, knowing that the clean up team would arrive too late to find Mercury. No one died that easily in Maria's experience.

Mercury stretched as she entered the room, she still felt all tingly all over since she was blown to pieces. Nothing she hadn't experienced before, but it was a pain nonetheless. There were only a few people inside, but her eyes landed on one in particular.

Mercury burst into laughter at the sight of the standing man near the back.

"Mars, what the hell happened to you? Someone go after you with a can opener?" she called and the tall man turned, making Mercury stop abruptly at the full sight of the damage.

The left side of his face looked peeled back to the metal enhanced skeleton below, but the darkened skin and poisoned looking veins that led to a grotesque eye stared back at her. Mars' eye was red on brown.

"A grater, actually," Mars responded as he flexed his hand.

"It won't work on me again," Mars said simply as the left side of his face spasmed uncontrollably. At her look, he frowned.

"Unusual fuel source in my system. I'm having trouble breaking it down or adjusting… I'm sure I'll be fine soon," he said dismissively. Mercury didn't argue.

You didn't argue with Mars, he treated it like a fight and it got annoying.

Mercury threw the mostly intact reports on the table. Her splattered mercury body had done its best to form a protective seal over the paper, but most of it was still black. She couldn't be blamed for that.

"Tada. SHIELD turned up so excuse the mess," she said with no real regret in her voice.

Someone at the table looked up and eyed the report with distaste. Ceres was one of those people that liked their proper order to things. She had the appearance of someone who could either be a power lawyer or business tycoon. Short pulled back blond hair and rimmed glasses that made Mercury want to punch her, just to break them.

She touched the burned reports.

"I see you returned with your usual level of professionalism," Ceres said with disdain. Mercury shot her a grin.

"You got it," she agreed.

"Will Minerva be able to use this to locate the target?" Mars asked, more on topic. Ceres pushed her glasses up, likely earning 10k in the time it took her to answer. Mercury hated the smug bitch.

"The program is still in its infant stage. It will likely need time to work what little information we have," Ceres admitted.

"If it does well, Jupiter might actually deem it worthy of having legs, imagine that?" Mercury yawned as she leaned back.

"If he let a miserable pile of robots that even argues with itself the privilege?" Ceres began and Mercury stopped smirking, "then I am more than confident Minerva will pass the test," the woman said.

Mercury slammed her fist into the table, her fingers melting into a spreading grey puddle that began to eat into the table towards Ceres who merely raised her brow at Mercury.

Mars wasn't concerned. He had long developed a… unpleasant resistance to Mercury's nanobot swarm. Ceres, however, didn't need to fear because Mercury stopped short as a sigh entered the room.

"Children, enough," came the tired voice of the elderly form that walked in the door. Mercury scowled but reformed as Ceres gathered paperwork along with candid shots of Ophelia lifted from the wife of William Stryker.

With the information, the pictures, and more… they'd find Ophelia Stryker before long.

Saturn looked down at them for a long moment before sitting down too.

There was a long silence and Mercury remembered why she hated these meetings.

The waiting.

I moved between bubbling pots. I don't know where along the line the various milkshake and protein powders turned to a vapor that was funneled along a discounted vacuum hose pipe to a canister.

The Hum Pill was a strange series of steps that somehow I ended up blurring some of the steps. I know I did them, but it was like my body just went on autopilot when my knowledge was incomplete to do it on its own.

It was a reminder that while I built these things, I was not the Sandra who actually designed them. At the level I was at, I could reproduce the items easy enough, but trying to share the knowledge? The technology?

I was missing steps 3-4 and 15-59. I waited until the steaming gas collected in my french pressed before I pushed the plunger down where it condensed into a liquid which slowly filled into a tiny hole of the pill shell.

Then I just sealed it over with leftover powder.

I turned, the pill held out triumphantly. Oh, Tatiana was awake and looking both terrified and awed. Nico and Emma looked at the kitchen with looks of slight horror.

"What? Did I break another glass?" I asked after a moment and Tabitha looked up from the teen mag she had bought with my supplies. She looked so over being impressed with my mad science.

"No, but you took a whole slice of bacon somewhere along the line and we have no idea what you did with it," Tabitha said evenly.

"You also took apart our vacuum cleaner, but we managed to wrestle the TV off you," Nico added slowly. Yes, I think I remember how the innards would be a fantastic conductor for boiling the thingy stuff to a good temperature so it could undergo some funny business in one of those steps I missed.

I made do without… but this odd mad science mood was a weird thing.

I walked over to Tatiana who tried to sink into the sofa as if her mutant power was to vanish on command rather than DNA via blood transformations.

"Hi, honey, how are you feeling?" I asked gently and Tatiana swallowed once and looked like she regretted it.

"Ow… ow… my sides hurt real bad," she grimaced. She looked at me.

"You're… different than before. You wandered over to me once to feel my hair," she said and I blinked once, internally screaming at myself.

"Hair volume and dryness is a good indicator for how much of the binding stuff I should use for the pill," I said and that… felt right.

She didn't look convinced so I held the pill out to her.

"This is a Hum Pill. It's going to make you feel better, but really tired afterwards. Do you feel comfortable taking it?" I asked, knowing I was breaking a few hundred laws in making my own drugs to give to teenagers. Tabitha leaned in, gently to touch Tatiana's shoulder.

"She's good people," she promised and the other mutant raised a brow but she inhaled once.

"My ribs feel like they're scraping over each other. I'll take anything," she admitted with a wince. Natasha was nearby, watching intently, likely already putting this into some report.

Tatiana inhaled once then popped the Hum Pill into her mouth. She swallowed it with a slow blink.

"Oh, that's where the bacon went," she said before we all waited to see what would happen. If Tatiana exploded, I was going to be devastated. I could never sit on that sofa again knowing it had unfortunate mutant girl giblets scraped off it.

And the endless guilt would suck too.

A flush crept up Tatiana's neck, sort of like she was suddenly in a sauna. She blinked a few times, her pupils dilating to be enormous. The flush hit her face and she turned almost beet red as if she were sunbathing.

"I feel… really warm. Is that normal?" Tatiana asked in a panic.

"Sure, everything you're feeling is perfectly normal," I said easily. I mean, since this was the first pill, there was no secondary test to contradict my statement. A second later, Tabitha shifted as if uncomfortable or literally unable to sit still. Steam began to rise from her hair and skin as she panted, fanning herself for a while as very uncomfortable noises began to sound from her chest.

"I feel like ants are in my skin or are they beetles? Spiders? Spiders. They spy on you! The spiders are watching us!" Tatiana began to rant as she physically got up and paced, her whole body steaming as we saw her skin around her torso shift.

There was a series of popping noises and Tatiana twitched, hugging herself.

Then slowly the steam died off as Tatiana stared into space.

Then she vomited a mix of artificial looking clear stuff and chemical smelling drugs on my rug.

"Wow. She did the same thing as this girl in my class after eating 30 gummy bears in a row," Emma whispered to Nico. I stared in horror at my rug, but managed a brave face as I gently touched Tatiana's shoulder. The girl looked up at me with dazed and blinking eyes.

"I feel so much better," she croaked as she felt her ribs, still wincing slightly, but she was clearly able to walk without too much issue now. She went back to my sofa and just… passed out. Leaving me, Natasha, Nico, Emma, Tabitha, and a pile of steaming vomit in her wake. The stuff on my rug was congealing into a slimy mess.

Like that time Nico was big into those slime alien toys and threw them at my ceilings? This mark was never coming out.

"I'll pay you $10,000 for three of those pills," Natasha said suddenly.

But really, the rug was so old and I had my eye on this amazing vivid one downtown.

"50,000," Emma said, appearing at my side. Natasha looked down at her, brow raised.

"I plan to rule the world through government and money. If you make an offer like Jenny at lunch wanted Billy's chocolate milk and offered a dollar, you can get 5 since she made the offer first, making you have more power in the deal," Emma said firmly.

I hate her father. He put such weird thoughts into her head, the difference was that Emma had the actual will and smarts to be someone if she wanted.

Jack was just a grifter.

Logical Sandra quietly pointed out that I was something he stole from a future I saw going very differently and some part of me might resent him for that. Therapy powers sucked when they had no off switch.

"$40,000 and you held me pitch this rug in the dumpster," I said and this actually made Natasha pause.

"$60,000 and I don't do that," she said after a moment as the stench of the vomit became stronger.

"I'll take the other 20!" Tabitha yelled, already rolling the rug up with cheer.

The old saying was true I guess. 10 million was nothing to something with 500 million, but 1000 dollars was everything to someone who had nothing.

I would hold off on payment until Tatiana woke up and I could be sure there was nothing to wrong my new invention. I didn't relish in selling faulty products to even Natasha.

Knowing my luck, Tatiana would develop a new power or have a minor healing power because I forgot to adjust the pill for her power.

But I'm sure it was fine.

Totally.

Last edited: Mar 31, 2021

15: Iron! Girls?

As far as I could tell, Tatiana was just very tired and hungry. No third arms or unforeseen psychic powers seemed to have manifested but Tabitha said she would make sure she and Tatiana's friends watched her.

Kiden and Laura, I think she said.

"Thank you," Tabitha said a little quietly as she led the dazed Tatiana outside. I gave her a smile, tired after making another couple of pills for Natasha. It wasn't as bad as the first time since all my 'equipment' was already set up.

The spy was gone with them and less than an hour later I was up sixty thousands and Tabtiha's phone app pinged to alert her she was also up twenty thousand.

Natasha was such a nice young lady.

Spy Sandra just had to point out with Tycoon Sandra that Natasha likely spent an average of 100k per mission if she needed to appear as wealthy. I shushed the sourpusses and nodded to Tabitha.

"Don't worry. Make sure you come in for your coffee. My day isn't complete until I see you bouncing off the walls," I said dryly. I got, I think, a real smile off Tabitha.

"I have cash to blow on a rental agreement, you'll be seeing me soon, Landlady," she promised and moved off with a mumbling Tatiana. I closed the door, my apartment still slightly stinking of vomit slightly. I wrinkled my nose and went to open some windows as Emma peppered me with questions about my 'power'.

Curious girl, but she seemed a little let down that I couldn't turn into a dragon or summon a ghost ship. I was such a disappointment to my little girl it seemed.

She patted my hands.

"Being a drug lord isn't the choice I'd make, but I support you," she promised solemnly.

Nico snorted and I felt one of my eyebrows twitching unconsciously. I mean, if I sold drugs to a government spy, was it really that illegal? I had a feeling Natasha would sooner assassinate a judge than appear in a court of law to testify in my favour.

I eyed the sheer chaos of my kitchen. Between the making of the Steel Grater and my Hum pills, the area looked positively ravaged by some ancient chaotic god of destruction or Emma's science fair volcano attempts.

I hired my two minions and we got to work shifting the Hum Pill development equipment to the side and learning what was scrapable and what was now a permanent fixture to my counter tops.

It turned out there were a lot of bumpy additions to my home now.

Good thing I was moving out.

"It's… something," the woman said. Natasha watched as the woman moved about the laboratory. While Natasha would rather leave the eggheads to it, she had a duty as the finder and to Sandra not to let the pills 'vanish'. If something happened, Natasha would have to comfort Sandra and admit she fucked up.

One she could manage, both would be too much.

The woman, Simmons, was credited as being a biochemist so it made sense she was looking at the 'Hum Pills' rather than man awkwardly moving around Natasha as if she were a viper and he was a mouse.

They were the only two scientists with high enough clearance to do this. Still, to ensure their protection, they had their own minder who was watching Natasha with annoying ease to his posture.

Agent Ward had the same, if not higher clearance than Natasha herself, but clearance didn't stop a bullet if he thought Natasha was weaker due to her lack of interest in politics or promotions.

"Reproducible?" Natasha followed Simmons' statement up with a question. The woman hesitated before she gave a slow shake of her head.

"No, cause it shouldn't work. It's not just a chemical formula. There are parts that I swear are… encrypted? I mean, maybe it's a bit too specific, but the atomic structure alone has a lot of false bonds or is throwing shifting mass and results back at me," she said as she brought something up on a big screen.

It showed a series of strands that weaved in a pattern that could have been like a painting. Simmons highlighted several parts and when she zoomed in, the entire thing seemed to invert before some parts expanded, falling away or consuming another series.

"The only parts that make sense is the fact I'm getting a lot of hints found in b12 Vitamins, some Omega fatty acids, and C25H28N6O7," Simmons said bluntly. There was a pause and she sighed as she grabbed her coffee cup and swirled it as a hint.

"Your 'hidden' agent developed a low-tier regeneration boost out of kid vitamins and coffee extracts," she said, stressing how ridiculous that sounded. The man, Fitz, eyed the screen.

"If I can have the equipment, I might be able to reverse engineer the creation and plug in the gaps giving Jemma trouble. She's good, but I can make it easier on her," he said and Natasha turned slowly to him, her expression clear.

"No," she said succinctly. Natasha couldn't assure she could santaize the equipment of every DNA trace back to Sandra. Handing over instruments that had her fingertips all over it was as good as just naming her in the national news.

"If they're in danger. I could aid in protection detail," Agent Ward offered, but he was dismissive in a way that said he wasn't really bothered if Natasha accepted or not, he was just trying to downplay his friendship with Fitz and Simmons.

"He doesn't need it. He has his own team in Florida and the Everglades cover a lot of ground," Natasha said back, briskly as if she was annoyed at the pestering. Ward shrugged again before he turned to ask Jemma about the pill, but he was clearly more interested in talking to the woman over the pill for intent and purposes.

It amusing to see the awkward Fitz clearly wanted to join in, but he was also too busy trying to stare the pill into giving up its secrets.

Who knew the science department was such a drama series?

Due to how the previous day developed, I went to bed early, waking up a whole hour before my alarm went off for my shift at the Brewer. I stared at the pitch black room.

"I have money. I can call in sick," I muttered before every inch of me rebelled about slacking off and letting down Mr Geoff or Steve if he came in for his usual. I shuffled to the bathroom like a creature of the swamp, mumbling about being too nice for my own good.

A twinkling charge in my chest waited eagerly.

As I showered, I thought about what I was working on. My shift at the Brewer, the upcoming sale of the building which should be done any day now, and personal development for myself.

I sat down on the sofa, free of teen girl giblets, turning on the early morning news reports.

" The Vulture has escaped using make-shift wings made from candle wax and wiring stole from the prison's vending machines," a man said grimly. I wondered which one it was? The old man one? The thuggish one? The rainbow team one?

Could be any of them. More people used vulture wings these days than the public bus these days… I spooned some cereal into my mouth as I kept listening.

" A series of thefts occurred in various successful business men's homes. All hints point to either the Prowler or a new cat burglar, more updates as we have them."

Oh no, think of the poor people who had their diamond eggs or gold toilets stolen instead of investing in decent security systems. I snorted to myself.

" In business news, Oscorp was outbid in the recent land deal to purchase rights to build one of the first 'on-water' facilities by Harvest Manufacturer. Spoke's person for the company, Surrey Pine, promised the facility would be used to develop water-born solutions to pollution and the hazard nature of New York's waters," the report showed a pleasant young looking woman in pleasant dress and pulled back dark hair.

Sucks to be Osborn. I would try and hold back my tears for his loss.

I headed to work and just as I got the place ready to work, I finally spent my charge. I decided to up my ability to repair a building to serviceable condition. It was likely that a lot of things would simply break before I had the time or chance to get around to performing maintenance on them. Most tenants would likely only report something when it was actually broken. A slow shower was a pain, no shower was a problem.

The star for building repair was a pile of nails oddly.

The knowledge filled me as I learned more about the finicky nature of the whole business. If the building was pre-WW2, there was a certain sturdiness and reliability but it was also fragile in terms of actually improving it. Skyscrapers and apartment buildings have a different approach in most areas. I learned how to wire a room or hallway to reconnect it to the main power source of the building, replacing rusty pipes or outright tearing down walls when they were crumbling.

It was more detailed and I felt more confident handling small day to day issues if I wanted to avoid spending cash on people or if one of my renters had an aversion to strangers due to previous hate.

I got to work and my customer of the day walked in. Instantly, I could tell this was going to be another day of weirdness.

Tony Stark did not blend well into the soft-colours and atmosphere in his power suit. Not a tuxedo, but the actual Iron Man suit that the helmet unfolded to show his smiling face. The suit was red and gold, colours of the brave and bold I presumed. I gave it a long look over, but not a lot in my repertoire covered mechs supplied by an unseen power source that had potential delivery systems via the hands, but the actual protections twigged Security Sandra and Spy Sandra, neither knowing the first thing about getting around.

"I look even better outside the suit," Tony sauntered over and I was annoyed by how impressed I was when the suit didn't clank or grind. It sounded seamless.

"I've seen you outside. The suit adds a foot and makes your head look small," I said bluntly, Spy Sandra schooling my features into an unimpressed look. Tony didn't even blink.

"I like the suit, it makes me feel pretty," he argued back.

"Some people drive monster trucks, some people have a gun collection, some… wear their super mech suit to get coffee, it all screams 'insecure'," I said as I got ready to take his order. Tony thought about it.

"Or I stopped a financial theft of my company, helped a sinking ship in the waters, and did two meetings over a speaker while stopping a crashing truck, and kind of needed something to keep me awake," he pointed out. I pursed my lips, admitting that I was being rude for no reason.

"Point to you, what can I get the hero of the morning?" I asked, holding my hands up in surrender. I could say I was a get-away driver for Natasha and a kidnapped mutant, but why have a measuring competition?

Tony looked like he had cracked some code.

"It's not the suit or the fame, it's the actual do-gooding that makes you like people. Explains Scout boy and Bruce," he mused.

At this rate he was getting hot water to the face…

"I'll take something for sleepiness and then I'm going to need something just for me. Steve might have bragged, actually bragged to me, that you made him his own special blend. I want a special blend. Gimmie," Tony flexed his gloved hands repeatedly. I stared at him, slightly aghast.

"Who lets you outside in a power suit unsupervised?" I asked, slightly alarmed.

"I'm not unsupervised. I have Jarvis with me at all times and Pepper calls me all the time," Tony said dismissively.

Then something occurred to me.

Something terrible.

Tabitha was supposed to be in soon for her fix. Tabitha. Tony. One room. Me with them.

All the Sandras in my head began to run in a panic, screaming. I grabbed Barista Sandra and handed her full control. I had a Hummingbird in Tony's hand before he had time to ask if I was okay. I grabbed filters, shakers, pots, and more.

Barista Sandra and Logic Sandra did some unholy ritual together, using what we knew of Tony and what Jarvis had mentioned to develop a unique blend for the man.

"Oh wow… Jarvis disable the heart attack monitor. I'm not dying," Tony said to himself as his pupils dilated.

My coffee invention ended up being a bit of a Janus. Two-faced to the point of being disconcerting. The first couple of sips were almost annoyingly sweet with childish amounts of froth, but as the first couple of sips were gone, the drink grew bitter and more lingering until you hit the bottom where the grit was almost a punishment for trying to finish it.

"Stark Delight, special order," I put the drink down and Tony eyed it like it might bite him. He was kitterly and clearly on the Hummingbird energy way, but he took the drink where he sipped it, wincing slightly until he sipped again… then again… and again.

"Is it supposed to hate me?" Tony finally asked.

"You get demons in a bottle. This is passive-aggression in a cup," I said bluntly, accepting his money before I saw he handed me a 100. I didn't have change for this so early in the day, but Tony just walked away to finish his drink, being weirdly quiet. People were staring at him through the window, but no one actually dared to come inside. Iron Man was cool, until you remembered he only really showed up when things got dangerous or he was about to puke on someone.

I wondered if I had gone too far, but Barista was clear on this. Art was meant to make you think and sometimes it was just a mess on the wall. It was down to Tony to know the difference for himself.

He finally returned to the counter and put his cup down.

"You made it wrong," he said abruptly. I stared and inside my mind, Barista Sandra snapped her neck almost 180 degrees to stare at him.

"Wrong?" I asked, voice deceptively calm.

"Yes, as a humble drinker of coffee. This isn't my special blend. It's off," he announced firmly.

"As a humble maker of power suits, your costume is inefficient," I said back and Tony nodded solemnly.

"It must be, so as humble experts of each other's passions, let's agree that you made it wrong and I didn't make a mistake in my suit, so you'll have to make more attempts when I come back," Tony announced grandly.

"And I refuse you entry?" I challenged. Tony merely smiled lightly.

"I'll buy the place and you can't bar me," he countered.

"I'll quit if you're my boss," I said easily. Tony leaned forward, elbow on my clean surface.

"And make Boy Scout, Bruce, and Natasha lose their fix? You're too nice to break their little hearts," he said easily.

"I'll invite them back to my place and not you," I stressed, leaning in to meet his cocky face.

"I'll actually glue myself to Bruce so we're a package deal," he threatened and I reeled back. There was a moment's pause as I tried to figure something out, but I think he outmaneuvered me on this one.

"I didn't make the drink wrong," I muttered finally.

"Maybe not wrong, but it's missing something. It's still good," Tony shrugged and his helmet flipped back in place. He reached near his hip where the suit opened up to let him fish in his pockets.

"If you start flicking money at me and making it 'rain' I will peel you out that suit and drown you in hot coffee," I warned.

"And how do you propose you'll peel me out of my advance durable suit?" Tony asked back and I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"With a grater," I growled.

Tony snorted and he turned, holding up his phone, taking a quick selfie with me in the background.

"Had social media in my suit, but Jarvis said it distracted me by 40% so I had to remove it," Tony sighed.

He showed me the picture and I looked like a hissing milk splattered gremlin.

"Delete that!" I demanded, reaching across the counter for his phone, but he pulled back as he typed.

"Decent coffee. Stark rating 3.5/5. Would be higher, but service comes with lip and I'm a fragile boy inside my suit," he reported as I climbed on the counter, ready to throw myself at the hero.

"Hashtag 'Ironman', hashtag 'Brewer', hashtag 'IronCoffee'," he said and moved to leave as I felt a terrible omen of things to come.

Tony paused before adding one more.

"Hashtag 'noshipping'," he finished.

"You're an ass," I called before sighing, "you better come back for more testing. It's going to bug me it's not 'right', your drink," I said tersely.

"Hey, don't feel down. You're the only one besides Pepper to get above a 3-star on my social media. Well, besides some strippers I follow, but my standards are looser there," he promised and left the building and took off with his boot thrusters.

I hated how I was rolling my eyes and slightly amused at the man that was Tony Stark, he was getting to me like a heartworm.

Wondered why he didn't want ships or boats involved in my coffee? Did he not like water? I shrugged, but my slow morning was broken by the slowly approaching horde of people who eyed me like Tony Stark had left some essence of himself on me and they wanted it.

By the time Tabitha and Tatiana turned up with two more girls, I was so swamped by work that I was physically stressed and it showed. A second later, Tabitha was on the other side of the counter, snapping her fingers.

"Fanboys to the left, customers forward, reports outside, chop-chop," she warned and began to man the register, looking serious.

"Tell me what to punch in as you make them," she said. I shot her a grateful look as Mr Geoff wasn't due for another hour.

When people protested, one of the girls sitting with Tatiana stood up, her dark hair and such an expressionless face that as she approached reporters refusing to take 'he just wanted coffee' for an answer, they backed up.

I could understand why, the girl gave off such a primal promise of violence that it was almost palpable.

"Laura, use words, not bloodshed," Tatiana called over, worried. 'Laura' twitched before she smiled and somehow made her look even more terrifying.

"Leave," she said and the reporters left.

"Ah, you'll learn to love Laura. She's good for getting rid of rats or roaches, scaring off guys in clubs, a mean shish kebab, and does the dishes with no complaints," Tabitha beamed.

Laura turned to me and the more natural blank expression returned.

"You saved Tatiana," she said it as if it were a statement, not a question.

"I drove the car," I admitted, thankful the sudden rush died down so no one wondered why I saved anyone.

"Good enough. Avenues of escape and support from afar are crucial to the success for extraction of valuable resources- friends, and more. Your job was not any less valuable," Laura said flatly.

Logic Sandra sat heavily in an armchair, staring. Spy Sandra began to squeal and coo.

"Laura used to be an assassin raised by the shadow government to kill people. But she's better now because she only beats people to the point they wish they were dead and of her own free will," Tabitha smiled as she handed a hot chocolate over to Laura who took it silently.

Kids… could you please lighten up?

I reached over and handed her a cheese toastie I had for a customer who left before collecting.

"Progress is progress," I said and Laura eyed the melted cheese before she took the plate.

"… Thanks," she said quietly and I had to admit, for a second, as she tried to figure out the right social protocol, she was startlingly vulnerable and my mother instincts ripped through me like the force of a thousand hurricanes.

The last girl stayed back, the most obvious in her distrust, but I didn't mind.

The idea of another super dangerous shadow assassin lady in my life helping Laura popped into my mind, but I didn't offer. These things took time.

I had time to spare.

Life was… not stable, but it was interesting.

16: Renters! Why him?!

"Woah, it looks…" Tabitha trailed off and Laura helpfully chimed in after a moment.

"Unassuming," she said quietly. I think that was meant to be polite, but her tone and bluntness made it come out as a critique. I held my truly massive sets of old looking keys and up at my new home.

"It's a fixer-upper," I said, forcing a little cheer as the estate agent finally drove off, leaving me in charge of all this. For a few moments, I hoped a responsible adult would come and take these keys away from me.

What the hell was I doing being in charge of a whole building?!

Spy Sandra said 'safe house'.

Lawyer Sandra said 'estate management'.

Chef Sandra said 'preparing poor ingredients for a good soup'.

Barista Sandra said 'mid-life crisis'.

I turned to Tabitha and Laura, the girls had chosen to come with me today because they wanted to see their new home. It had taken me by surprise that I was going to be housing Laura and Tabitha each, but out of their friend group, they were the ones couch surfing the most.

Tabitha's house had been burned down and Laura said she had 'space issues' with people and single rooms were hard to rent.

I led them inside and Tabitha tried to cheer me up.

"Woah, for a 'Lock, this is five-star!" she exclaimed, looking at the rundown foyer with smashed open mailbox slots. Lock… as in the people she had-

"They live in the sewer, so she's not wrong," Laura agreed softly. Custodian Sandra clicked her tongue once at the implied suggestion that my building was slightly above par for sewer people. I had the keys for less than five minutes, I was going to do some work soon…

I showed them around and asked their opinion on knocking down walls and merging rooms.

"Five floors… I'd say make bottom floor family units, knock some walls down, but make the upper floors personal. If you're going to be known for being good to us Mutants, you're going to want numbers over space. The sense of community is worth the slight cramping," Tabitha shrugged.

Once we got to the roof, I saw Laura's nostril's flare like she could smell something I couldn't. If she was a Mutant and an ex 'government assassin'… what were her powers? Death lasers? Poison touch?

Stare of destruction?

"Nice! We clean up the pigeon crap, put some benches and plants about and you can have a real swinging pad for chilling when the weather's nice. You can even get a pretty view of the Manhattan island horizon!" Tabitha exclaimed, far more taken with the roof than anything else so far.

"It's exposed," Laura shifted her gaze to some of the near-buildings that rose higher than my building.

My building… so weird to say.

"Ask Sandra if she can put up fences or you can just sit inside on the stairs," Tabitha suggested brightly. Logic Sandra decided to poke her head in and I had to notice a few things. I suppose one didn't just stop being an assassin, even if Laura could… some people wouldn't care.

If she's lived a rough lifestyle simply because she can't feel safe…

I had to do my best to ensure safety for her.

"There's a room on the third floor, a middle one, that's only got two windows facing out into the small alley between this building and the other. It's brick across the space and no one can see inside," I told Laura suddenly, almost blurting it out.

"Sounds depressing," Tabitha announced before lightly patting Laura's arm, who tensed ever so slightly, but didn't react.

"Perfect for our little Wildcat," she said, trying to sound imploring to Laura.

"I can look at it," she finally said. It was a little clear that Laura was massively awkward around me. She did not trust me, nor did she seem particularly sorry about it. I got it, I had a literal spy in my head and I could see how such a life didn't lend itself to open and fuzzy feelings.

"Love to, but we need to discuss the rent sitch," Tabitha said as she stretched her slightly less green hair beginning to show blond roots in the sun.

I admitted that was fair and after having Matt and Foggy look over the legal paperwork and predicted the cost of running a full building, I bluntly told them what I thought was a fair deal if I did a lot of the work myself and my tenants weren't destructive psychos.

"$400 a month which will cover your utilities and such. No deposit needed since I know you and you vouch for Laura," I offered.

"Surely you mean 'a week'?" Tabitha responded with a frozen smile. I double checked the figures in my head. Single bedrooms, kitchen and sitting room combined, barely an elbow to swing in the bathroom, and since the invasion, NYC was in a little financial free-fall so taxes were scary low.

Follow that up with the slight Lizard infestation, costume weirdos everywhere, and the fact Stark, though I'd never tell him to his face, had been slightly working to improve the city's power system had caused a reduction in fees across the poor neighbourhoods.

Then the fact I wasn't looking to hit gold and charge a leg when I could eventually just do the inventions thing or become some super business woman in a few months.

Also, I just couldn't honestly set down a price higher than what I offered until i could walk through the halls without physically wincing.

"You'll be torn apart by scumbags. Make it $500 to cover damages and complaints, and definitely get security deposits. People will pay them for dirt cheap monthly rents," Tabitha said, her relaxed voice turning hard and slightly miffed as if the idea of underselling myself affronted her.

I gave the girls a smile.

"And what shall I do if people refuse to pay rent after seeing how crap the place is?" I asked, mostly teasing. Tabitha simply looked at Laura who did a strange weird flexing motion with her arms and there was the sound of tearing flesh as on each arm, two dangerous looking bone knife things… emerged from the hands of Laura.

There was a moment where she sort of bled over the roof before she retracted her claws and her skin knitted over without so much as 'pardon me'.

"We look after those who look after us," was all Tabitha said.

Logic Sandra was… mildly concerned to say the least,

I gave Tabitha's burn a look over, finding it healing as well as could be expected. During my examination, Laura asked questions about the right amount of cream or such. I suspect it had been Laura who had done the 'poor' job on Tabitha's burn I noticed the other day.

Well, if the girl just healed from anything, I doubt first aid was high on her list of skills to learn…

"You look after her for me," I told Laura who gave me a slight nod.

"I will. I have your scent now so I can find you now as well. You don't have to worry," Laura responded which made Tabitha sigh as she slipped her shirt back on.

"Laura, we talked about smelling people and then telling people they can't run from you," she called.

"Logan said it reassured his people…" Laura said back, slightly annoyed. Some actual emotion that showed for a fraction of a second she dropped her guard around me.

"'Logan' stabs people who call him short. I think anything non-violent he does is reassuring to his team," Tabitha retorted.

I could mentally hear Logic Sandra praying this 'Logan' was not an important parental figure to Laura. He sounded… intense. The girls departed, not long after… leaving me alone in this massive building.

So, naturally, I nearly peed myself when a charge winked into existence. I just filed it right into Building Repair since that was going to be my immediate concern. If people needed shelter, Mutants or not, then they couldn't live in a deathtrap.

The star began to unfurl and I inhaled as details came to me slowly.

Material recycling wasn't always wise, but it was doable. Special mixes that could be painted on to support wood that was cracked. How to make a replacement set of windows with wood I could install on hinges for the moment.

I learned about tile replacement, functional power surge protectors, and weirdly… how to begin the very arduous process of elevator repairs. It was only replacing the console buttons for the floors, but it was a start.

Then… the weird blueprints came. I should be used to them by now, but…

Really?

The first was a hammer. I thought maybe I was tapping into Thor, but this looked like a mostly normal hammer from the outside. It had a grip, a hammer head, and a back bit for yanking nails out.

Oh, and the button to emit a sonic shockwave to ease in my demolition.

Did I mention that? No, silly me, my new hammer had internal sonic emitter technology! There was a strange clicking as a previous invention decided it just had to join in the fun.

The First Aid Atomic Needle broke apart and with the internal mechanics of the new hammer, soon refigured itself into a Nail gun able to fire pieces of metal with sonic shockwaves. I think I just invented a war crime.

I shook my head as the second repair invention came my way.

It was… tape.

It seemed to be some grey sticky tape that was weirdly flexible. I could make it in tape form, liquid form, or paint form. The stuff seemed handy and cheap, but I was worried, there was a chemical make up about that seemed insanely long for simple tape…

I waited to see if this would merge with anything, but the only thing I 'thought' of was that my Sandra Tracker would hold better with this stuff as an adhesive. I looked around and despite my urge to just begin tackling things, I needed a plan.

Custodian Sandra rolled a toothpick in her mouth, looking into the distance.

'If you don't plan right, you could lay down the prettiest tileset of yer life, but then came the great cheese blockage of '04. Some didn't walk away from that one,' she sighed.

Who hurt you, Custodian Sandra, who?

Nico was getting out of school soon and since I had the afternoon free, I was going to grab Emma and all Nico's friends for another burger run on me. Emma was in her own world, using a space stone she found to draw white drawings in the sidewalk. I saw rabbits, horses, I think Emma in a cape and crown shooting fire from her hands, and a few panicking people running.

Normal kid stuff.

"How goes it, Em?" I asked and she looked up smiling.

"Queen Emmarelda has pushed back the loggers and all the animals love her. Except the badgers, they turned traitor and tried to sell info to the loggers," she said sadly. I'd be worried about her if I didn't know for a fact Emma burst into tears whenever one of those sad 'adopt a dog' videos appeared on TV.

When that no longer phased her, I then consider psychopathy as a legitimate fear in Emma.

As I waited, someone called out to me from behind. It wasn't a voice I knew. I turned, puzzled, my polite-but-whom-the-fuck-are-you look repleaced by a look of being caught by a predator as Norman Osborn emerged from the back of his car, a suit so green it was almost vivid.

I was in full Warrior and Spy mode. He seemed to take my sudden wary stance as amusing or perhaps as a businessman, sensing fear from me.

"Mrs AeKure, are you here for your son? I'm here for Harry, my own," he smiled and while I just wanted to run, hands in the air, I couldn't deny he wasn't… ugly. He had the sort of face that if it just dropped the smart attitude and lost about 2 tons of ego, would be pleasant to look at.

He wasn't overweight, far from it.

Yet, every inch of me felt tuned to attack. It was a sensation I had never known before, but parts of me felt violent towards this man that went beyond fucking with my life.

"Terrible business with the lawsuit and your unemployment. If you ever decided to give Oscorp another chance, come see me personally. I can't express enough how bad this has all developed for us," Norman said and all I could think inside my own head was 'liar, lair, liar!'.

But I couldn't just rant and rave inside my own head. I'd look like I was in shock.

"Thank… you, Mr Osborn. I'll remember that," I finally managed as Logic Sandra coached me through every calming practise I could do with no outward signs. But even Logic Sandra, even she felt hostile to Osborn.

But she, the part that was once Therapist Sandra… felt weirdly sad. It was stuck in the knowledge, the imprints, the slight echoes of skills that felt familiar but never were mine.

"Still, you can't be doing too bad. Stark certainly set you on blast across the media," he joked and stood there as if at a press conference, arms behind his back.

"You don't seem to like him," I said coolly as Emma kept behind me, sensing the tension.

"Stark has good ideas, even if he executes them in flawed ways. You could say I might take inspiration from him one day and show him how it's done," Norman said, his smile colder, but much more genuine.

"You want to fly around being Iron Man?" I asked dubiously, trying to get a fix on his mental state, but it shifted wildly from cool to slightly oppressive far too fast.

"Iron Man? No, Mrs AeKure, I am much more of a patriot," he promised.

"Miss," I corrected. He seemed to take the cutting remark with a slight narrow if his eyes.

"Yes, I forget you tend to go about your life alone. Not the safest lifestyle in New York," he commented as the school bell rang.

"I have my kids, I'm never alone," I pointed out, feeling like I needed to get away from Osborn, he was freaking me out.

"Yes… yes you do, but I'm the same. I'm never alone," he promised as kids emerged from the front of the building and Osborn's smle became publicly bearable once more.

I was distracted when Nico's group emerged, plus a few more people. A blond kid, a girl even blonder, and a kid that could only be Osborn's spawn. The real shame was that the kid looked normal, if a little recluse as he hung around Nico and Peter.

His face schooled itself when he saw Osborn. I couldn't blame him.

Peter looked up from Nico's side and he physically paled as he saw Osborn. Norman's kid I could get, he lived with the man, but what had Peter seen to make him feel as sick as I felt when he saw the man.

"… Dad? You said you had meetings," the kid, Harry, said slowly. Norman managed a wistful and homely expression which I'm sure he practised in the mirror.

"I got done early, came to pick you up," he explained. He must have expected jubilant joy from Harry cause he frowned when Harry managed to smile weakly, but not much more.

I saw my chance to get revenge on him.

"Norman? Is… is that okay if I call you Norman?" I asked, making myself suddenly more unsure in voice and mannerisms. Nico looked at me with alarm and Emma looked like I was acting like a nut. The man clearly didn't expect a last minute attack so he could only roll with it.

"Of course, Sandra, right?" he responded. He used my name like someone might when talking about a poisonous spider.

"I was going to treat all the kids to a burger nearby. You wouldn't mind if Harry hung out with his friends for a little longer?" I asked softly.

Logic Sandra dared him to lose his kind and affable manner in front of everyone or argue against it.

"Well, I had taken the time off to see Harry, important time," he said and I knew that was a big social attack on Harry's need to please his father.

"Oh, Norman, you'll see him at dinner right? You two must eat like kings and enjoy good talks all the time!" I smiled, so fake it hurt. Norman's smile turned slightly homicidal, he couldn't correct me without admitting he didn't do dinner normally.

Thus trapping him in a faux pas of letting Harry go with me or admitting to sucking as a person.

"Perhaps I should come with you?" he almost threatened. I heard Gwen whisper something to Nico who looked ready to shank Osborn if he laid a finger on me.

I better wrap this up.

I took off my metaphoric gloves and my Sandra collective rose as one.

"Well, one I think Stark is going to drop in and annoy me. Have you met Stark? You must have, but yes, he's going to bring his Avenger friends maybe and that's a hassle, but feel free to come! I think also to be there for hours, important work time you said?" I tutted before smiling broadly with every inch of dislike I could manage.

"Also, it's just awkward if we hang out. I just sued you and won. If it was seen and photos were taken? I mean…" I trailed off.

"And my son isn't involved with that?" he asked, voice tight.

"Sins of the father I cast not on the child," I said softly back. It was subtle and I felt Peter slid up next to me. That weirdly made Osborn snap out of his little duel with me to smile easily.

"I think we got too tense! Parker here is feeling the need to be a hero. Forgive me, long day," Osborn chuckled, shaking his head as if everything was a-okay.

"Harry, if you need a lift home, call me. Sandra, please take care of my son. Whatever ill-will between us shouldn't be placed on his shoulders," he said earnestly, and there was even a slight hint of actual truth there.

Osborn had shifted again and it threw me completely again.

What kind of mental games was he playing?

Then he was in the car and driving off.

"Woah, Miss A, you got them kitty claws out," MJ announced, smiling with a hand on her hips. The new blond girl eyed her own nails.

"I've seen cattier, but that was cool," she admitted.

"You didn't have to do that," Harry said quietly and he looked tired. Gwen put a hand on his shoulder, looking soothing.

"Harry, we want you here," she promised. The new guy snorted.

"Speak for yourselves, nerd. I'm jetting for practise. Felicia, I'll see you later. Nerds? Later. Ma'am," the boy nodded at me with a serious expression as if he was about to salute, "later," he finished and walked off.

"And there goes Flash, able to charm, but chooses to crush," Gwen said before MJ put an arm around Felicia's shoulder.

"He could charm or crush me. I'm not picky, right Licia?" she teased the girl who merely shrugged MJ off.

"If you're into meatheads, I guess," she played it off.

Harry and Peter shared a look with Nico before they all looked down at their scrawny frames. I'd say their baggy clothes didn't help, but not much muscle could be hidden that well under some flannel and button ups.

"Do you think we'll develop six-packs and tight muscles overnight?" Nico asked gloomily.

"It happened to me…" Peter muttered before he grinned.

"In a dream. I'm more likely to grow extra arms before something attractive," he joked. Gwen reached over, sliding her arm into his.

"I think you're cute," she said and MJ did the same with Nico.

"Green thumbs drive us girls wild, makes us think of romantic roses and hard work with your shirt off," she proclaimed, making my son flush. Felica and Harry looked awkwardly at each other, clearly on the opposite ends of the group from each other.

Emma took Felicia's hand.

"You look like you know the best way to deal with a badger rebellion, let's talk tactics," Emma said smoothly to her and the girl blinked but let herself be led off.

I offered my arm with an amused look to Harry.

"Mr Osborn, may you escort this old lady?" I joked, he looked nervous, but did so.

"About my dad…" he began softly.

"Don't worry about it. As far as I'm concerned, you're Nico's friend and that means more to me than your last name," I promised.

Harry needed more exposure to girls, he was a little awkward…

Wait, I could let him talk to Laura! She, too, was awkward in a much more violent way! They could help each other and if Nico hadn't introduced Tabitha to everyone, I'm sure she and Peter might click.

Peter was so unassuming and not threatening, the ladies just liked him.

I'm sure deep down, somewhere beneath the bloody bone claws and glaring, Laura was a sweet lady indeed.

Just in case? I'd bring some meat chops to distract Laura so Harry could run. I'm not sure running would help, but it was the thought that counted.

Right?

17: Happy Days! Long days...

The next two days passed so peacefully, I only got two charges. I suspected it was simply due to the routine of it going to work and then back home to just spend time with my kids. I didn't experience areas where I struggled or needed to be 'better'.

I put the first one into cleaning, since I could make the place work 110%, but the act of repairing something cared squat about how it looked in the end. I was a decent housekeep, but I suspected a whole building needed a form of expert until I had enough cash flowing in to hire cleaners for the stairs and halls.

The star turned out to be an old rag and a bucket of water.

It soon turned out that I had made a slight mistake in asking for all forms of cleaning. I blinked very slowly as I had the vaguest understanding of cleaning out fish tanks to radioactive waste barrels, tank treads to space toilets…

Custodian Sandra took in stride as Barista Sandra screamed at the understanding of more coffee machines, Spy Sandra nodded in glee at the various gun cleaning tips I had, and Chef Sandra ran a metaphoric finger over the knife cleaning ideas.

It was so amusing to know just how wide such an innocent sounding word was that I put another charge into it. The first charge was hardly useless, it compounded what I knew with various techniques and solutions to various messes, but the second one…

Chalk post-ritual needed a specific washing of salt and water to make sure they didn't linger in the various 'realms', influencing future rituals. The function of aerosols to make even living near the riverside or worse, in the sewers bearable. Some knowledge even dived into hastening the dissolving of Spider-Man's webs for Pete's sake!

Even then, the web still took an hour to melt. What even was that stuff? This came with another, if slightly lesser, boost to my general skills as well. I eyed the bottle of overpriced stuff in my cleaning basket under the sink. I moved some around, having to peel apart the bottle of bleach and the old 'dark warrior' cleaning solution that I had bought once just because Nico loved the edgy design so much.

Cleaning brands were truly insidious with their marketing.

I eyed the materials made to make some of them.

"Half this stuff is useless, it's like they only added some of these chemicals to not be sued by each other," I had grumbled to myself.

Still, I felt it was a good relaxing few days which only compounded when I ended up having lunch with Bruce the next day. He was sort of eating, sort of inhaling, the chorizo & mozzarella gnocchi bake I had brought to share.

I watched with some scientific fascination as this slight of build unassuming man took down over half of the dish in one go and only stopped because he was being polite, not because he was full.

"You either haven't eaten in a week, which I know is a lie or your metabolism is insane," I said, shaking my head. Bruce smiled weakly before he answered.

"I haven't slept and I missed dinner last night. I had a breakthrough and Tony joined in and before I knew it? Sun was up," he admitted as he took his plate to a sink I was sure was dedicated to science and not the common kitchen stuff.

He suddenly turned back to me, looking perhaps more relaxed as he shot me a mischievous smile.

"I liked your selfie with Tony," he said casually.

"He sent me a friend request on Facebook. I haven't confirmed it," I said with a shrug. The only way I knew that was because of an e-mail alert that had come through. I hadn't been on Facebook in years. Jack made me sign up to send him 'lifes' or something on some game.

"He told me. He was complaining you didn't have Twitter so he couldn't follow you for 'fun'," Bruce went on as he returned my plate, clean and dry, to my carry-basket.

"I might join Twitter if you're on it," I offered. The idea of just following Bruce and not Tony tickled me in a fashion. This made my lunch companion stall for a moment.

"I've been on Twitter, never a good time," he said and I wonder if he meant user or as a subject? I hadn't Google his name or anything, but he was a researcher, maybe he did some dangerous test and that's how Tony poached him?

Logic Sandra decided now would be a good time to ask if I didn't want to be nosy and look behind his back.

"How did you and Tony meet? You seem more comfortable in some lab on a mountain and Tony gives the impression if he doesn't have a camera on him within the hour, he will melt like the Wicked Witch," I pointed out.

"The Invasion," he said slowly and I waited.

"I… well, there was a lot going on and they needed people with the know-how to stop… well, cut it off," he waved his hands, visibly tensing as he tried to grasp the right word or phrase.

"You like I don't know you," I finally said which caused Bruce to go quiet.

"Yeah," he finally admitted and Spy Sandra began to plan to Google him, stalk him, look up his number in the phone book, but Logic Sandra sprayed her with a water bottle. There was no rushing this. If I went looking for answers then Bruce would feel either revealed as something he was ashamed of or worried the answer I had was incomplete or wrong.

I only had a few facts to go on.

One? Steve Rogers trusted Bruce.

Two? Tony Stark trusted Bruce.

Now that those two elements canceled each other, I went on. Bruce was kind, he was awkward, and most of all, he was lonely. I wouldn't say I had a savior's complex to the lost and weary, but I was also not able to just ignore someone in pain.

"You tell me when you're ready. I'm not going to look, search you up or what. I want you to have the power to approach me under your own terms and tell me what you want to. I'm giving you that power," I said slowly and Bruce looked down at his hand before he slowly unclenched it.

"If I had my way, you'd never learn what I hide," he promised before he blew out a sigh.

"I appreciate the statement. But," he said standing up and looking serious.

"You talk like a therapist and now I feel bad. So, in payment for causing me emotional distress, I claim the rest of this," Bruce announced and took my meal and began to eat the rest straight out of the dish.

I stared, jaw hanging open.

"How do you eat so much?" I asked, gesturing to the vanishing food. Bruce thought about it as he sat down at the stool near the island counter in his lab.

"I'm a big guy at heart," he said seriously and then carried on devouring my hard work.

I ended up cleaning the dish and when I turned back, Bruce was fast asleep on the small sofa in his office space. I gently laid his nearby coat over him, wishing he kept a blanket or something on hand. The guy had eaten himself into a food coma and I was not taking any of the blame.

" Dr Banner was looking much happier today," Jarvis said as I rode the elevator back down.

"He ate enough to certainly feel happy," I joked to the nearby panel.

" Food is a common social lubricant between people. I have often wondered how certain things taste. If machines tried to simulate reality, would we correctly apply the taste to the right food? Would potatoes actually taste of chicken and vice versa?" he pondered at me.

"Well, if you scan human brains and tongues, you'd be able to guess close enough. We all have 'likes and dislikes' but we all agree on what something tastes like. Chicken is chicken and beef is beef," I pointed out.

" Tests on the early 'lab' meat is inconclusive. Some beef tastes off to the subjects and some chicken tastes strange, but the chemical make-up seems accurate," my AI companion added and I could tell he was enjoying the talk.

"Coffee and food, you're a complex guy Jarivs, what next? Philosophy? Is a ship the same if you replace all its parts?" I teased and Jarvis took a moment to think about it.

" It is not the physical hull nor the same sails that make the ship. I would guess that it is the experiences made aboard it by the people. If the wood is new and the sails along with the rope is replaced, then the only thing truly the same about the vessel is… what it means and shared experiences with its crew," Jarvis said, trying the argument in his own way.

He was quiet for a moment, maybe looking something up.

" I see, this question is the 'Ship of Theseus'. I shall delve into this subject more," he announced.

I gave him a farewell and departed to the lobby where I was stopped by the most surly and unhappy looking 'suit' I had ever seen. Spy Sandra said 'security', Warrior Sandra said 'trained'.

"Mr Stark wanted you to have a lift home as he wished to make up for the 'selfie' incident," he said and I eyed him. He flashed me a security ID badge.

Holy shit, his name was 'Happy Hogan'. I thought Tony just made the most bullshit name up when we first met.

"He is not sorry for that," I said firmly. Happy grimaced then nodded.

"Miss Potts suggested I add that in. Mr Stark said you'd see through it," he admitted. Whoever you were 'Miss Potts'? You tried and I appreciate that.

"It's not a sports car… is it?" I said with dread, knowing full well what Tony might do to make my life more annoying.

"No, casual black car," Happy explained as he gestured for me to get back in the elevator to go to the underground parking garage.

I sighed in relief before we stood there in silence. Happy was… clearly wasn't a massive talker to strangers.

"So… Tony was pretending to be you when we first met. Does that happen often?" I asked and he gave me a long look.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said and went back to being quiet.

This was going to be fun.

It was a damn SUV with more armour plating and bullet-proof glass than the President's car! I seethed inside at Tony smirking as he sent me home in a mobile bomb-shelter. Despite being functional, it was nice and comfortable, even if people stared at the clear 'move out the way' car getting closer to my home.

When we parked, Happy got out to open my door and with his sunglasses on, he was sort of handsome in the 'super agent' way with a 'I'll protect you' aura to add spice.

"Thanks for the ride. If you want, you can go for a coffee or take a break. Just tell Tony I was being difficult," I offered the guy who I was sure wasn't paid to ferry women Tony Stark wanted to annoy around New York.

"No problem. It's one thing or another with Mr Stark," Happy promised as he looked around my street with alertness.

"Are you going to be fine getting home?" he asked as if we weren't parked right outside my building's front door.

More than a few Sandras were amused causing me to smile.

"Happy, I think I'll make it 5 feet. Tell Tony and Miss Potts thank you so much and check on Bruce. He's going to get sore sleeping on that sofa," I instructed and something about my voice made Happy straighten up as if I were a drill sergeant.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said firmly. I turned and took three steps towards my building before the upper floor which had my apartment on it exploded out in a wave of heat and glass shattering noise. I was launched back into Happy who caught me.

"Inside," he barked, pushing me towards the car, but my mind finally snapped into gear.

Nico and Emma should be home by now. I threw Happy off my arm and tried to rush into the main entrance which had my neighbours pouring out.

"Nico! Emma!" I screamed as black smoke filled the air and there was a screech of an engine and some horrible noise before something inside my apartment exploded out like a bat out of hell.

A dark purple and green form seeming to fly until I saw some extended glider contraption he was riding on. The sight of him made me-

It was just us left. The world had ended long ago and was now just a monument to how fucked it had gotten.

Not the last alive, of course, but the last willing to keep going. I couldn't see well, I was… barely moving. My opposite element, my enemy, was in similar conditions, pulling himself out of a cracked wall, wheezing as this took the toll on both of us.

The torn green scaled skin of that monster revealed human flesh underneath, as if to mock me. As if to say to me 'he was only human in the end'. The Goblin was a monster and I would kill him today.

He grunted and a moment later, his costume repaired itself, on his head that stupid crown of his glinted with that yellow stone.

"You know you can't keep this up. You're on your last legs, AeKure! You outlasted them all, but look at you!" he cackled and wheezed. I raised my hand as I felt what he meant… every bone in my body was broken, but my mind was strong.

I lifted myself and floated there as the deep blue stone in my locket glinted, the stone fused into the last image I had of my family.

We stared at each other, the reality stone in the King Goblin's crown warping the very air around him while my Mind Stone pushed my revenge and purpose to higher levels, straining my soul to its max.

But I knew he was right. I couldn't beat the very creature that warped the world to be his toy. If I was stronger, if I was smarter… if I was more, the mind stone would elevate my soul and mind to weapons to slay this king, but I was just a grieving mother…

It was all I ever was.

But it didn't mean that was all I ever could be.

"You win this game, Goblin, but the war begins now," I moved my finger with the telekinetic powers of the stone. King Goblin cackled as his energy built.

"The war is over, little lady. You're dead," he spat. I began what I knew was going to kill me.

What I asked of the stone was to do something it shouldn't and even for a moment, this meant a sacrifice. The stone pulsed in my hand.

"No, you and me. Us? It's just beginning and eventually, one day? I will win then I'll find you, maybe not you here and not you here now… but a me will find a you… and you will suffer. Your win is going to become a statistical anomaly," I barked out a laugh.

Perhaps my words sparked a slight sliver of sanity in the monster.

"What have you done?" he asked as my fingers began to turn to dust. It was mercifully painless.

"Reminding you that reality is what I make of it, not your stone," I said calmly, almost glad for it to end.

"My soul, my mind, my existence will be the web that snares you. Every idea, every word, every memory they gain will use my bones as railroads, my flesh as maps, my soul as the light in the dark, and you will die, in every time and in every period, you will be destroyed, reduced to a loser, tossed off your throne!" I yelled and my legs went next.

"The infinity war begins now," I rasped as the Goblin tried to undo what I did, but only bound us closer together. He was king of reality… this reality.

He would sacrifice nothing, but me? I had given the stone the very essence of my pain, love, and regret. I was greater than he was king.

As I gave up my existence, I felt perhaps my wish wouldn't be enough. I was… willing, but I only had the mind stone.

I wouldn't tell the Goblin, but I had been so close…

I think it was a surprise between us both when a green stone appeared in my grip, thrown into my remaining hand. I looked over at the badly ruined form of the Phoenix, his incarnation torn apart by the Goblin's assault earlier.

"Jack…" I stared and he looked at me, eyes glowing with that flame.

"Once I was… perhaps this is why the Soul Stone comes to me now while I weep. The death of a loved one summons this stone, which is why the King never found it along with the others. Jack loved you and the stone is yours. End this!" the Phoenix demanded, his flames burning brighter.

The goblin was wrestling the mind stone's power away somewhat, but now with two stones, I was beyond even him.

"Why? Why?! What did I ever do to earn this hate? This is beyond even madness!" King Goblin spat as I overpowered his control over myself, my soul and mind were superior to his reality. I looked at him as my neck began to turn to dust.

"You killed my kids. For that? I'm going to kill every single one of you that ever could, can, and will exist. That covers Emma. For Nico? I'm going to make sure you get this memory just as you die, so you know the one that fucked you over in the end? It was yourself. You did this… and you will learn that millions of times, countless times, forever," I breathed out my last intake of breath.

"I will destroy your kingdom, stone… by stone."

Those were my last words and the scream of rage was beautiful.

Then I was no more. I was all more… I was you and you are me.

Now you know.

-Utter loathing.

I recoiled as my power unleashed some sort of blackboxed memory that was stored until I saw the goblin above. The Green Goblin, not the King Goblin. What the hell were Mind Stones and Soul Stones… why was Jack on fire?!

I ignored that as I tried to push inside again, desperate to get to my kids, but Happy had me in a double arm wrap.

"Mom!" Nico called as he rounded the corner, holding groceries and Emma's hand, looking afraid until he saw me.

I got a charge, but Happy was in full cover mode as he swept me and the kids inside the super bomb shelter of a car. One I was fully thankful for as the thing rocked as something exploded a piece of the road at our sides.

"I was so scared, I thought you were home and the smoke came and-" Nico said, holding me tightly as Emma did the same.

"I was at lunch with Bruce… I was meant to be home but…" I finished, going quiet as the thought occurred. The figure through the tint glass began to swerve and head down the street towards us. I saw the costume, green-scaled and forms of purple fabric giving him a sort of childish fantasy look, but his demeanor and yellow eyes promised there'd be no innocence today. He had two things in his hand and they looked familiar.

Spice Latte Bombs, projectile, wick or not wick? Explosive or conclusive? Chemical?

I nearly snapped my neck as I looked at the damage he did around me. The Green Goblin had to do a sudden swift retreat upwards as Happy unloaded a handgun at him, leaning out the car window. The car roared to live and we were off. The street was crowded but the Goblin had aerial mobility. The car stalled as other people left their cars in a panic.

"Crap," Happy muttered, considering his options. I looked around to see we were down by the general hardware store. I had a horrible idea, but it was all I could think of until someone showed up to help.

"Stay here," I told my kids and ran to the store as Happy told me not to leave the car. Sorry big guy, he was after me. I was right as the Goblin went on to ignore the car and move towards me. I looked back as the front of his glider opened up to reveal tiny muzzles.

I rushed in the store and threw myself behind the counter as barks of machine gun fire went off. I saw people scurry into the backroom, leaving me basically free of the place as sirens went off.

The Glider needed space to work so I prayed I could do something. I wouldn't have time for any full idea to be totally done.

I would have to jury rig something that 'functioned' in the barest sense of the word. I crawled over to the tools, grabbing a hammer, a buzzsaw, and things that looked like it would make fathers happy to use to build decks or show off around BBQs. I got another charge in the haze of danger.

If I was going to be building a weapon, I decided to see what Improvised weapons got me. I spent a charge and I ended up with something that sounded a bit more fancy than I expected. 'Low-Tier Weapon Mods' were basically turning things into weapons through some careful applications.

'Careful' was a bit of a misnomer in this case as I saw how to smash a bottle better for more jaggedness, how to make a shank out of chopstick, a broom handle, a vacuum cleaner, a table leg, a spoon, a plastic bottle, and more. Shanks were pretty universal. Anything jagged could just be slapped on, but it took an expert to make a weapon from nothing.

There was a lot of fineness to it.

I spent the other charge in Mechanical Engineering, the idea popping into my head when I decided if I was going to be firing off something stupid and dangerous, I could at least know what the hell I was doing.

The charge was spent and I-

"What you're asking for is both impractical and near impossible," I say with annoyance as I tidied up old blueprints and sketches away. My office was usually quiet, but not today. I couldn't even just tell my guest to buzz off.

However, one did not idly tell Hank Pym to buzz off. I was a woman who had bright ideas, he was the man in charge! Note my sarcasm. Hank Pym placed the blueprint down on my desk anyway, messing up my order.

I had to get a move on, the New year's party of 1969 was going to be a riot and yet here I was sitting in dollbox office, force to listen to someone who I was sure was insane. His 'design' made me sigh.

Why did my employer want me to build a 'ant helmet' capable of manipulating other ants?

"Physics are my forte, but Sandy, you got a real knack for those machines. You make metal do crazy things," Hank said seriously.

"Hank, you made robots," I reminded him and Hank shuffled and shrugged.

"Yeah, but I can't tonight. I need to make up with Janet after… I was too energetic about brushing her off and it looked bad," he said sheepishly.

Brushed off, according to Janet, was being inches off from a backhand. Janet told me she wasn't sure if he meant it or… worse, but she was in a bad mood when she left.

"I'm not staying tonight to make you a helmet," I said firmly. Hank idly brushed a finger along the desk.

"I'll let you see project-U. It's a mechanical marvel," he said lightly and I paused.

I had been very curious… I shifted before nodding.

"I'll design it, but you'll need a chemist for the pheromones and someone else to do the fine-tuning. I know nothing about ants and I am not picking up a fourth doctorate," I warned.

"A fourth one would scare off any chances of getting a ring on your finger. Men are intimidated by a smart lady," Hank winked as he left my office, leaving his helmet design behind.

I was going to build his helmet so it felt too small at the back but roomy at the front and it was a pain to get on and off along with muffling his voice.

But it'd function so damn well, he wouldn't dare take it apart to fix it.

Put a ring on that, Hank. Malicious compliance was so fun!

-Three Doctorates?!

Holy cow, was I cool or what? There was more gunfire outside and I shook myself into action. Marvel at my own self later, I had a Goblin to dismember.

I got a baseline introduction to Mechanical Engineering, which was to say my brain was slapped hard across the face with thermodynamics taking one look at my designs and shrieking in despair. I got a slight inkling of control theory, vibrations, solid mechanics, fluids, combustions… and a lot of maths.

Oh… that was a lot of math.

Well, the only maths I needed right now was force amplification and distance between me and the Green Goblin's limbs. The store was smoking as something was on fire and the screaming was dying down as people fled.

"Come out, come out… Little Miss Sandy, Stark's Coffee girl," The Green Goblin sang over the chaotic noises. If I was getting assassinated because Stark's Twitter? I was going to be so mad at him when I made his coffee.

Since I wasn't going to be going into a massive inventor state, I had to do what I did with my Humming Bird coffee and dumb it down to a lower level to reduce the time to make it.

So, I took my Nail Gun and 'dumbed' it down. With the existing nail guns I found, I ripped apart the need to plug it in and replaced it with an energy pack from one of the drill kits I 'borrowed'. I then cracked open the actual gun part of the thin and hardwired a different component to it. Engineer Sandra was pointing things out as I went along, letting me smooth things down or reduce the change of killing myself by a fair margin. Engineer Sandra basically as the sum of new knowledge, so she all pointed out how to add barbed wire to the frame to give it melee qualities.

It was sort of like if a metalhead had an engineering degree but also liked building flamethrowers. It was that sort of scientist I had created.

I was also moving too fast to be… normal. Not superspeed, but occasionally I would do a step somehow in advance or two steps in such close order it was basically at the same time.

I loaded my ammunition and finished the last of the soldering and heard the Goblin get tired of waiting and smashed through the front of the store, using his glider as a battering ram.

I walked out to meet the Goblin, knowing he'd be able to bomb behind any cover now. I held up my improved weapon. It was an ugly sin upon all that God's light touched.

My invention functioned a little like the nailgun, but it lacked the sonic vibrations that turned the nails into dangerous projectiles. Instead, my thing growled as the buzzsaw in its 'mouth' spun rapidly, waiting for me to release and fire the saw like a razor disk. As the disk spun in the two-handed gun, it began to glow red at the edges as it passed over an exposed hot air vent inside.

I had this thing on for longer than five minutes, I was likely to get a face full of burning shrapnel.

I tilted my head as the Green Goblin saw he might have miscalculated against me. What a shame.

"Bet you never 'saw' this coming," I said before I opened fire, the ring of dangling buzzsaws around my waist would need to be manually reloaded.

The thing sang as it flew through the air and to my annoyance, the Goblin did a pivot, spinning his glider to get nothing more than a passing cut on his shoulder which hissed. I dove as he opened fire, reloading as Spy Sandra took stock of the arena so to speak. I fired another saw and it was close to his chest, but he sideswiped at the last moment, getting an arm wound. My gun began to grow uncomfortably hot as I reloaded again.

"Little girls got teeth, but shame for you I got bombs," my enemy laughed and something bounced near me, orange and demonic looking. I threw myself away from it as it exploded, making my ears ring and my vision swim. I kept rolling, careful to keep my 'ammo' flat as I did so. I went under a bunch of hand saw tables and rose to my feet firing another disk.

I cut myself badly on my palm as I reloaded too quickly, but I got another shot off and by the time he was dodging the first one, the second disk buried itself into the wing on his glider, causing sparks to go off, but to my surprise the thing was only slightly pierced.

That had to be amazing material to be lightweight and resistance to tear and heat.

My gun began to smoke badly as I reloaded for one final shot.

My hand throbbed and holding the gun now was burning my hand. I should have grabbed gloves… damn it. I snarled as I did one last shot, getting another bomb in return. I turned, throwing my weapon in his direction.

This was when I seemed to have miscalculated in some of my mental maths as I made my weapon. I figured the release of the energy and compression of metal would be dangerous, but not overtly powerful.

I counted wrong somewhere in the force yield by a decimal or so. I was lifted off my feet and sent crashing into wall holding wrenches which all fell on top of me with a mighty topple. There was a scream of anger, sounding extremely like the King Goblins from that other Sandra's memories, and three more explosions went off.

I struggled to crawl out of the mess, my hand leaving bloody handprints as I moved over boxes and crooked wrenches suspended by their hooks. The store looked like a bomb had-

Stupid thought, I must have hit my head since everything had a cool blur to it.

Combat Medic Sandra suggested I had a concussion and should not go to sleep and not play with more bombs. She even gave me the mental version of a sick leave note! Sweet, no school tomorrow!

Wait… I left school… or had I never gone?!

I shook my head slightly, I had to focus. I saw the goblin, the goober. The Green Goober! He was picking himself out of a parked van across the street and boy, did he look green. Also, slightly smoky.

His right arm had lots of chunks stuck in it. Those were my chunks, I made those! Asshole was stealing my chunks! He tapped his wrist and his glider emerged nearby, one wing almost skinned completely to reveal cool looking wires and a whole lot of spare bombs.

I thought he was going to throw more bombs at me but he took off as what sounded like a jet engine closed in.

Iron Man touched down, looking in at me and presumably where the Green Goober was flying away.

"Oh, you're so cool! Hey, why am I mad at you again?" I called as I stumbled messily towards the front of the store. There was the sound of something like an ominous groaning from above and I looked up to see my bomb had cracked the ceiling somewhat.

"Whoops," I said as the cracks spread. I didn't quite know what happened next, only I was suddenly very warm and there was a horrible noise of wood cracking and lots of stone on stone. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't move… I could breath and I was hyperventilating.

" Please calm down, Miss AeKure, the suit structure integrity is holding. It was designed to fight tougher foes than brick," Jarvis' voice said soothingly. His voice seemed to be coming from all around me.

Without any input from me, I began to move slowly, as my arms shifted wood and bricks out of my way, the sound of jets making me have forward momentum.

"Where am I?" I asked, voice faint and my head was killing me.

" In the suit, the mark- Unimportant, but the time to rescue by arm and leave the building was estimated to be 8 seconds. The time to use the suit equip function on you was 5.7 seconds. Master Stark took the better chance."

Neat. My hand was feeling a little better, but I was also sleepy. I jolted awake as something buzzed my spine.

" Apologises, but there is a high risk of death if you fall asleep, Miss AeKure. You have a concussion after your weapon exploded. I would urge you to never use such a thing again. It was highly unstable," Jarvis actually reprimanded me. I blinked as light began to filter in the 'screen' ahead of me.

"How did you-" I began but the footage of my shooting sawblades at the Green Goblin was shown, taken at a downwards angle to suggest security footage.

" The owner used cloud storage for direct upload of all his footage. As Master Tony would say I 'hacked' in," Jarvis explained.

I finally emerged from the rubble to see something odd. Stark, in nothing but an undershirt and black silk briefs was being suspended in the air by…

"Is that the Hulk?!" I whispered as Jarvis actually kept me walking towards him. The giant anger looking… person was bulging out with muscles that I wasn't sure worked under normal physics, but I had just made a saw blade bomb, so I could not throw sawstones.

He had strips of fabric barely covering his frame and some sort of super stretch undergarment on. He turned to the suit as it came nearer and in my blurred haze, I thought he looked… lonely.

Angry for sure, but he was also just like an agitated dog that was caged in. Jarvis opened the suit from the front and I nearly toppled out.

"Wee…" I said as I dropped to the ground below.

"See big guy? Safe and sound and I only had to flash my modesty about to make it happen," Tony said and then eye his suit with a frown.

"Happy, wet wipes. There's blood in my suit," he called as he walked over to me and looking around, he borrowed a strip of fabric off the Hulk's arms, using it to bandage my hand.

I looked up at the Hulk, unable to quite ignore the weird feeling in my head.

Concussed Sandra said he looked like the jolly green giant. Concussed Sandra totally agreed. The Hulk flared his nostrils as he paced, looking like he wanted to get closer, but didn't like the idea at the same time.

Then my kids were there and life was peachy.

The Hulk gave us all a look and he seemed slightly smaller, but he jumped away, clearing a whole building as he did so.

"He's shy," Tony said as he stepped into his suit, my blood cleaned out as best as Happy could manage it. Nico put his phone down and I saw my baby was crying.

"Who hurt? Tell your Mother and she'll skin him," I said, taking his hand as Emma just buried her face into my chest.

"The Green Goblin did, he hurt you," Nico said back, sounding helpless. I patted his hand gently.

"I blew him up then he dropped a building on me. I did my best," I said casually as Tony picked me up gently to get me in the car.

"I'd fly you, but head wounds and fast speeds with no headrest is bad news," Tony said and I ran a hand over his facial hair as his helmet was down.

"You are nice, but no selfies. Unless it's for your wall and private," I instructed. Tony managed a smile.

"You want me to have pictures of you for my private time? I'm flattered, but I am never without company," he promised as he set me in the SUV once more.

"Just because you do sock puppets in your spare time, doesn't mean you have company. Hands are hands," I said flatly, getting a scandalous gasp out of Nico.

"I see your filter got damaged," Tony managed as Happy got into the car with a serious expression and my kids climbed in with me.

"No one disses my coffee and lives!" I said cheerfully and shut the door on his face.

"Mom, are you okay?" Emma asked and I looked her in all four of her eyes.

"Of course I am. I just need a little medicine and my kids to be safe. It's all I ask," I proclaimed. Inside, some rational part of me was seething. It was boiling and anger. Goblin, kids, danger, attack, insanity, and me.

My part in this war was beginning.

The infinity war.

All I had were graters, coffee pills, and exploding buzzsaws.

And the Hulk, I guessed.

That was a bonus.

18: The Hangover. The Lump!

Cause you're all awesome. Heres the next chapter.

"I don't think that will work," Bruce admitted as he turned the holographic sequence around to Tony to show him several issues he pinged in red. Tony pursed his lips and very slowly poked the red markers as if he could just make them go away.

"We have to figure this out. We literally have the most advanced equipment in the world," he said and Bruce raised an eyebrow at him.

"Top 1% of the world," Tony amended.

"Yet, you can't figure out what coffee blend she made with your advanced equipment," Bruce pointed.

"The ratio of hazelnut is off," Tony grunted as he expanded the sequencer of ingredients he had broken down to base elements. The secret was in here, but so far, all 18 cups of coffee had been a bust.

The closest Tony had gotten was when he added salt and that was a choice he regretted. He had footage of the woman making the coffee… salt was not in the equation.

Bruce tapped his chin before shrugging.

"Is this important?" he finally asked, which was nice of him after spending a day or so helping Tony anyway.

"Important?" Tony looked at him weirdly, "its coffee. It's not important at all, I just wanna know what she made cause it's worth way more than $4," Tony pointed out as he leaned against one of the clearer walls of Bruce's lab.

"Is this where you tell me you bought Starbucks and rebranded it as Starkbucks?" Bruce seemed to ask with dread. Tony paused, the idea had merit, but he shook his head.

"Pepper only lets me buy out one massive company a year. It's not good for my 'ego'," Tony said with, his tone hinting at Pepper's audacity clearly.

"The global market breathes a sigh of relief," the other man responded dryly. Tony decided that he could ignore the 'anomaly' coffee for a moment to lean ever so casually in towards Bruce.

"So… Sandra is coming over tomorrow, for lunch, with you, to have lunch… with you," Tony said brightly, popping each statement.

"And Steve if he's free," Bruce responded quickly, suddenly finding a nearby beaker extremely interesting.

"Strange, I don't recall Steve getting that memo. I mean, did you send him smoke signals?" Tony pushed as he took the beaker away from Bruce who avoided meeting his eyes.

"I haven't seen him and if I did, I'd tell him," Bruce said, voice a little higher than before. Tony lived for this. He wondered if he and Bruce would do each other's nails and talk about girls all night now.

"Oh oh. Alright, I see what you're doing. It's not 'not telling' Steve if you don't… have the chance to tell him," he said and Bruce snatched the beaker back with a sigh.

"She doesn't know about me," Bruce finally said, running his hands down his shirt as he tried to tidy up his messy lab. Tony blinked once before he thought how socially inept someone would have to be to not know the name Bruce Banner.

"No way, let me check her Twitter," Tony said, his phone already out.

"Right, here's her kids, Nico. Oh a rocker. I dig the band, Jarvis, check for tickets to any gigs. Low key rock concert and Pepper is perfect," Tony said as he scrolled through the kid's feed and Jarvis beeped to show he heard.

"Her little kid, Emma. Lots of followers, she's a real go-getter. But 11? Yeesh, Jarvis run through her followers and ping any issues to the internet police, whatever initials they use these days," Tony added.

" Yes sir," Jarvis responded.

"Are you combing through an 11 year olds Twitter for creeps?" Bruce asked, looking baffled at Tony.

"No, I am looking for Sandra's Twitter. Jarvis is looking for creeps," Tony corrected. He flicked through the profiles, getting nothing concrete until an uneasy feeling began to rise up his spine.

"Bruce, you're in love with a cave-woman," Tony swallowed loudly as if suppressing a gasp, he almost wished he wore pearls so he could clutch at them. The idea made him think of pearl sheens and designs for a suit, some Moonlight suit or something.

Bruce spun so fast he knocked a delicate looking instrument for calibration clean off the table.

"I'm what? No, Tony, don't even joke about that," Bruce warned, picking the thing up. Tony shot him a look.

"Fine, she's early Bronze age, but I won't go higher. She's devoid of the internet, okay… don't panic, I will check Instagram," he promised.

That was a bust and Tony began to worry about the woman.

"Pin-interest, she has to post her food and coffee somewhere," Tony went on, fingers flying over the touch screen.

After that, it was time to dig in the trenches.

Finally a hit. A single photo and the barest profile ever on Facebook.

Tony winced, but sent a friend request. She might not respond, but Tony didn't care. He just needed to have something to show Bruce at this point.

"Listen, is it so bad that she might-" Tony began as he put an arm around Bruce's shoulders.

"Yes, whatever it is you're about to say? Yes a thousand times over," Bruce protested. He looked Tony right in the eye.

"I give out a constant low hum of radiation at all times. Constant exposure or… intimate relations would be like drenching her radioactive by-waste," he said and Tony pulled his hand back, shaking it as if radiation was cooties.

"I'm not going to kink-shame hazamat suits," Tony promised, his mind whirling about, trying to figure out if there was something he could construct to either trap said radiation inside Bruce or mitigate it to something less harmful.

Besides, the guy was overreacting, Tony had sensors for that thing and Bruce didn't even set them off or maybe Tony needed to make them slightly more sensitive around this lab.

"If you were a walking leaking reactor, you wouldn't come near people," Tony pointed out as he put his phone away.

"It can be higher when I constantly shift. If I'm the other guy for a while or myself, I don't leak, it's the change that makes it unsettled," Bruce explained with a shrug.

"Well, you do spontaneously generate mass. That's a bit of an energy hog," Tony reminded him.

"It doesn't matter. Sandra is just a friend and I'm going to tell Steve we're having lunch tomorrow right now," Bruce proclaimed. That would either be amazing to witness or ruin Tony's fun. If they could both develop feelings for Sandra that would be the best soap opera ever.

But… Scout Boy was still sort of reeling from his defrosting and Bruce was a mess of issues.

"Cool, let me leave you to that," Tony smiled, edging towards the door as he made a plan.

The moment he got into the elevator, he told Jarvis to make sure Steve's email account got locked due to a 'super scary techno-Satan virus'. Which should be enough to scare the guy from trying to contact support.

Next, he got the man himself on the phone.

"Steve!" Tony smiled jovially, the emotion in his voice clear.

" Tony?" Steve responded and there was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, swinging rope, and lots of men. The gym, where else would Steve Rogers be?

"Tomorrow, Pepper needs us to go on a night out to support-" Tony's mind raced, recalling some of Pepper's charities she had mentioned, but Tony only half-listened to, "-deaf and blind puppies for kids," he grasped, sure he had mixed two of them up along the way.

Now, Steve would go…

" Tomorrow night? I don't think that's a great idea," Steve said, nervous about the idea of going out to town with Tony Stark. Silly man.

Tony pretended to get a message and grimace.

"Crap, it's tonight and Pepper already said you'd go," Tony winced and he could almost physically see Steve's resolve weaken when the idea of letting down Pepper came about.

" Just… a few hours helping Pepper and that's it?" Steve asked slowly and Tony was already thinking of how to convince Pepper to go along with this and where in New York City he could find strong enough alcohol to get Steve Roger's drunk.

Tony would make it up to him, but Steve needed to be incapticated to not nudge in on Bruce's lunch date. Tony needed that lunch to happen for his friend. Steve was more mentally stable and Bruce didn't have any friends besides Tony and a select few others.

A voice, one that sounded annoyingly like Pepper, spoke up in his mind.

' You could just explain it to the man. Steve would bend backwards to help Bruce!'

Tony imagined Pepper in a low-cut Iron Man tshirt and the mental Pepper grew outraged.

' Tony, how dare you ignore me and objectify me when I'm trying to be your conscious!' she glared.

"Just a few hours," Tony promised innocently.

Tony was going to sue the man operating a jackhammer on his skull. He opened his eyes, trying to figure out why his bed was rounded and cold. He slowly groped around and pulled himself out what he saw was his bathtub.

"If I sold my kidney to help Bruce get laid, I will be so mad… but kind of impressed with myself," Tony muttered, each word emerging from a mouth so dry that the Mojave desert felt positively swampy in comparison. Tony patted his sides, not finding any fresh needlework.

He walked into his main room and stared at the giant patriotic shield buried deeply in his massive TV. The thing barely worked and the some history channel was frozen in place, the caption under Hitler's face reading 'a tyrant or a plant by aliens to cause the progress of humanity?'

"One Captain America shield, but no Capt," Tony muttered as he looked around the mostly non-destroyed room.

"Steve? My little war sugar plum?" Tony called, voice raspy with dryness. The weird thing was the fact something had woken Tony up. He was still due for what felt like another ten hours of nap time.

He shuffled to something near his desk that was beeping incessantly. Tony knew that noise, he just couldn't place it as his brain was shrivelled like a raisin and he was sweating what smelt like cherry vodka.

He reached for it, but an arm extended out from under Tony's bedm grabbing him by the ankle. Tony shrieked and his bed lifted straight off the ground as Steve bucked his knees in surprise. There was a long pause.

"Why are you under my bed?" Tony demanded, wincing at the volume of his own voice. Steve's head poked out and he looked rough.

"We were playing hide and seek, but you never came to find me," he moaned, eyes so red he looked sick.

Memories fluttered back.

"No… I don't think we were. For one, I'd choose a better place than the bathtub," Tony pointed out, affronted. Honestly, as drunk as he was, he was lucky he didn't just put a lampshade over his head and call it quits. He vaguely recalled pitchers and something fruity enough he could trick Steve into downing over and over without the taste of alcohol coming across.

Ah well, then he recalled Pepper returning them back to the tower and she was sober… then they were chilling on the sofa… then the history channel and it got fuzzy after that.

"It was Pepper's turn, she left us hiding all night," he muttered, wishing he had anything to drink. Water, more alcohol, lighter fluid…

Had it been her idea of the game? Was this revenge?

It was good revenge.

When Tony drank, he usually ended up just being morose all night or really annoying. Playing games with army boy was a new one.

Turning back to his desk, he tried to figure out which alarm system was going off. He had a few warnings set for a few things. It wasn't an Avenger's meet up, old or new. Not a SHIELD call. Not a 'Mutant civil war kicked off' alarm…

Tony tapped a few keys, his brain coming back online. Namor? No sign. Ultron? No sign either, even better.

Thor was still MIA and Tony knew Bruce hadn't done anything, his building was still standing. He checked his own alarms. First, the series of secure armouries containing his father's old suits, none of which were missing. Howard Stark, the Iron of old days… his good deeds only made the fact he worked on the Manhattan project all the worse.

His Dad's 'Brotherhood of Shield' junk could just waste away as far as Tony was concerned. Next was Pepper and Happy…

Pepper was fine, but it was Happy's alarm that was going crazy.

He tried calling Happy's number, remembering he told his friend to take Sandra home as a treat. After a moment, he began to use his GPS to narrow his location down as he told Steve something was up.

Then Burce burst in, looking… agitated.

"There's been an explosion near Sandra's place across the bridge, what's happening?" he asked Tony who was already stepping into his suit, bleary eyed and without getting dressed. Steve was up and pulling his shield free of the TV.

"Looking into it, I'm sure it's nothing," Tony said, as he took off. He really hoped he wasn't hearing the sounds of clothes ripping behind him as he hit full thrusters.

"Jarvis, give me something," Tony said as he flicked his eyes over incoming reports of the bombing.

" The Green Goblin, sir. He bombed Miss AeKure's apartment and is now chasing her into a hardware store on the corner of her street," the AI reported. Tony saw Jarvis pull up a live feed from some cloud access. Sandra was huddled behind the counter, the shelves and floor were torn apart by a hail of bullets. Tony had never dealt with the Green Goblin personally, the maniac seemed to cherish dementing Spider-Man more than anyone, but Tony was pretty sure some clown on a hoverboard was going down with a well placed Uni-beam.

Tony liked the Spider-Man kid; he had… heart. Tony appreciated that in this day and age.

"What's she doing? Why is she out of the really good SUV with thick protection?" Tony grunted as he passed the bridge. Jarvis zoomed in and Tony nearly went through a window when he saw what Sandra up to.

She was dismantling a series of power tools into an amalgamation of a project in record time. If he blinked, he missed two or three parts coming together or parts just seemingless integrated where the woman wanted them too.

"No, don't do that. If you don't install a proper heat sink… what! No, you don't crosswire those two parts, you're just asking for… I mean that works terribly, but it works!" he said, a little scandalous at the foul surgery he was witness to.

" Sir, there are no audio functions installed in the store," Jarivs warned as if Tony was trying to reach Sandra.

"Jarvis, she's making a super-unstable spinning top designed to fire heated saws at people. That thing is so badly made, but so… impossibly made at the same time. I want to use it!" Tony yelled as he neared in on the site of the fight.

" My analysis shows she is working backwards, using an existing design to create a lesser functioning weapon given the time. I suspect the original design has better safety functions," Jarvis added.

He pulled up images of the weapon, building it in a 3D model program as he highlighted several key pieces of the weapon that didn't align correctly or were even purely wasteful. It did seem the weapon was supposed to be something else. It was like if Tony took apart his suit to make a go-kart.

He was nearing the street when there was a truly almighty bang, far more concussive than it was heat. Tony saw the Green Goblin explode out the store, smashing into a parked vehicle and his glider spinning off to the side.

Tony landed hard, fist in the ground as he crouched to bleed off his momentum. The Goblin freak was already running, his stupid glider smoking as he fled. He could follow, but as he turned to the store, he saw Sandra waddling above, sideways and backward before moving forward, she looked…

Well, Tony had looked like Sandra had a few times and it was always some of the worst days of his life. One of her hands was bleeding profusely, dripping even as she swayed towards him. A massive cut across her head and one of her eyes was swelling shut as Tony watched. She was babbling to herself mostly, talking and rambling as her head wound made her ignorant of the dozen cuts across her body.

Sandra was smiling, her dark hair covered in dust as her slight rounded cheeks looked flushed as her body pumped pain-numbing chemicals at her.

A piece of the ceiling fell around her, making Sandra stop.

"Jarvis, suit or catch!" he yelled and Jarvis flashed blue, the signal for detaching the suit, and Tony stepped back as the suit flew off him and at Sandra, catching her as it all went down and leaving Tony in his shirt and underwear… he didn't even have socks.

He raised his watch up and Jarvis' voice started sending reports along with the sounds of Sandra's voice. He slowly let out a huge sigh of relief.

Tony Stark didn't fuck it up, not again.

Today was looking great already.

Then the Hulk fell out the sky and Tony should really learn to keep his metaphoric mouth shut.

I was warm, soft, and weirdly detached from everything. I was aware, but it was a sort of astral projection of my consciousness rather than being awake. I suspected morphine and I sighed, already mentally tallying up the hospital bill before anything else came back to me.

As I slowly convinced my eyelids to open, I had to think about everything.

Sandra… Prime? Alpha-Sandra? The one that had caused all this… I wasn't sure how I felt being drafted into a war of her making. I didn't choose to have beef with the Green Goblin and deep down… I wasn't sure I would have if she hadn't used her hippy stones to make it so.

Or maybe I would have and she armed me with the power to avoid 'losing' as she had done. I simply couldn't know.

But if I was getting ideas and stuff, then somewhere out there, 'there' being a weird term for everywhere else, a bad Sandra, a really monstrous Sandra, was now getting the same benefit.

In arming all the Sandras, the Alpha-Sandra had created just as many villains as she potentially made heroes.

In some bizzaro versions, the Green Goblin could be a hero or if there was no goblin… would Alpha-Sandra now force a goblin for every Sandra? The original Sandra to start all of this, didn't do this out of objective and moral choice making.

She had done this out of hatred and spite, and now we, all Sandras, were involved.

I, even with her memory, couldn't fathom how much pain someone had to be in to not only doom herself to a level of non-existence, but to draft millions… billions of uninvolved women (and some male me's I guess) into her fight.

I kind of wanted to punch her.

I opened one eye, thankful the room was on low light. White walls, white ceiling, white everything. I saw the only flash of colour in the room so I turned towards it and spotted Natasha leaning back in the chair, perfectly still like a spider waiting on the fly struggling before it moved.

"Please tell me you are not my nurse," I croaked and Natasha eyed me.

"I break people, I don't fix them," she said before finally moving to sit forward.

"How do you feel?" she asked and I shot her a look through my good eye that spoke volumes.

"You caused a stir, but any reason why the Green Goblin wanted to take you down?" Natasha asked and I thought about what he said.

"He called me Tony's coffee girl," I said weakly, but the man was clearly insane so it could literally be 'he didn't like the look of me' was all the justification the goblin needed to gut me.

Inside, Logic Sandra gently tried to assure me that my destiny was not tied to the Green Goblin's… that I had free will.

"You also showed him you weren't defenceless, I saw the footage. Interesting weapon. What did you 'learn' to make that happen?" Natasha asked and she was being obvious in her questioning to tell me she had to ask, but she didn't want it to be so subtle that I felt tricked. It was a kind gesture from a spy on Natasha's level.

"First aid and building repair. A needle and a vibro-hammer that I merged together for a Nailgun, but I didn't have time for the nailgun so I hackjobed it into the Disker," I mumbled.

"The Disker?" Natasha repeated, voice a touch bit judgemental on my naming skills.

"Original content, don't steal," I managed to smile, but boy, these drugs were good. Still, the fact there were so good made me want to cry. Goodness in a hospital cost dollar dollar bills.

"Stark assures me that your trauma and wounds won't cripple you. He has the best medical care money can buy and footed the bill," she said and that reassured me, but Spy Sandra finally awoke from her stupor to notice something.

Natasha was looking slightly… I wouldn't say guilty for I was almost sure guilt withered near Natasha's soul, but definitely a slight blankness to her.

I raised my hand to see there was no bandage and not even a scar from where I cut myself.

I licked my lips and there was a lingering taste of bacon.

"Wow, talk about karma. I make pills and they save my life," I managed and Natasha nodded.

"Stark and Banner want to know what I did, but I didn't want to share your… gift, so I'm not the most liked Avenger right now. On top of that, some footage did leak of your fight despite SHIELDs best attempts to scrub the footage," Natasha explained and I blinked at her.

"Does this mean you care?" I asked slowly. Natasha looked me dead in the eye and without blinking responded in a very careful tone.

"You're a prime asset."

"I don't think you need any more assets," I said back and I had to because Natasha was in this weird body suit thing again she had worn when rescuing Tatiana. It was…

I really needed to double down on my jogging in the morning.

"I didn't think my Hum Pills were the best bet. They encouraged natural healing and somewhat exhausted the body. I had a concussion, that was dangerous," I pointed out after a moment.

"You were slipping into a coma. I could read it on the doctor's face," Natasha admitted.

"People wake up from comas," I said gently and Natasha raised her walls and became a super spy once more as she shrugged my comment off.

"Sometimes they don't," she replied easily. I could push it, but I suppose she was right. I could have died or I could have spent three days in a coma, healing.

Or I could have been out for ten years.

Brains, they were the darndest things.

"Thank you," I finally said honestly. Natasha brushed her hair back, the bounce to them seeming to come straighter with each passing day.

"If you die, I'll never have good coffee again," Natasha, just as honest. I teetered on the edge of asking Natasha about the stones before I decided to just go for it.

She frowned, but shook her head.

"No, I've not heard of the stones, but if it's the source of your powers, I'll keep an ear out," Natasha promised as she stood up inside the stark white room that hurt my eyes. Colour was badly needed.

"Great, now my kids? I want to see them," I asked.

"They're with Tony, I'll go look," my… friend offered before she vanished out the door. I felt a pit in my stomach at her words.

With Tony? That dastardly… man who saved my life?

I watched with a long look as Emma walked in wearing Tony's Iron Man helmet, waving excitedly. Nico followed and he was grinning.

"Please tell me it's from the gift shop?" I asked weakly and the thing unfolded and showed the advanced tech inside as Emma grinned at me. I saw that Tony had stuffed Emma's socks at the sides to stop it wobbling on its sides since it was clearly too big for my girl.

I looked over as Tony leaned against the door of the room.

"I think she's great. Real heart… I suppose she can 'Iron Heart' for the day," he joked.

"Your coffee privileges are on thin ice," I warned and Tony looked pained before he looked at Nico quickly.

"I did not let you guys use the hand blasters in a safe and controlled environment, right!" he said far too brightly. I closed my eyes, my head too fuzzy to deal with Tony's whole… thing right now. It turned out Tony was gonna to host us in his tower, rent free…

On one hand, I felt great I wasn't forced into my new building and making my kids sleep on an uncleaned floor, but on the other, I felt kind of like I was only getting this treatment because of Steve and Bruce. I hoped they didn't feel like I was expecting this all the time.

Logic Sandra pointed out I really couldn't feel too bad for something Stark was basically pushing on me while I was unconscious. He was a man with a tower and a slightly bigger ego. No one was pulling his arm to do this so I just let it go.

Tony was doing me a solid and I would appreciate it and not stress over it too much. A nice woman came in and said she was going to be my primary doctor. She started doing 'busy' work, clearly waiting for the room to empty before she dropped something on me. I think Tony knew what it was so he mentioned he had the 'guest' floor set up for them and me when I was able to move about.

Once Nico and Emma was led off to get some sleep, Tony lingered for a moment longer.

"I've got people digging through your house, but there was… not a lot left. I'm sorry," he said and I thought of all of Emma's early school art pictures she made, Nico's odd sports trophy, their baby pictures, the few old things I had left from my marriage that made me happy…

My life.

All of it was in ashes.

"They were just things. I can get more things. I can't get another Emma or Nico," I said, only half-believable as my voice shook. Once he left, the doctor rolled her neck as she examined my charts.

She was a sort of blunt looking woman with brownish hair and the attitude of 'I have no idea how I got here'. It was endearing, if worrying.

"I'm Doc Castle. I was swinging by Boston when Stark asked me to fly over to do your medical. I'm a bit of a case-worker, but I pick things up fast," she explained and I eyed her. Her face was weirdly familiar.

I must have been staring because she smiled, but also looked resigned to something.

"You're not crazy. Imagine me with black hair and draped over some himbo and looking like a housewife's erotic cover model," she instructed and the image snapped into place as I blinked at her.

"You're Velvet Castle!" I gasped, wondering how the famous sultry actress of Hollywood was also my doctor. I loved her in 'Love Bite', 'When the Night calls' and, my favourite, 'The Interview'!

"My twin is Velvet. I'm Margaret. I actually know how to button a top up," she promised. I was still starstruck by proxy, but I didn't badger her about her sister.

We ended up talking before getting down to business. Margaret ("Call me Mags. Mags if you prefer, or Mags if you want to be cheeky… and if you wanna be rude? Mags will do,") was the older twin and the twins had a younger sister who called Cate who was in some school for the gifted.

Mags liked animals, books, and her dog who was called Butters.

She was kind of nice and relaxing as she moved about adjusting my IVs or checking my vitals.

"So, the good news is that the scans came back and your head is pretty much patched together almost without an issue," she began as she held up what I hoped was my skull, otherwise this would be a weird medical.

"And the bad news?" I asked slowly. Mags pursed her lips.

"You've slightly developed a new tiny section of brain, it's not quite grown neatly so it's pressed on some parts of your frontal lobes," she pointed to my brain and it looked… normal to me.

"I would have classified it as a tumor, but it's a functional and healthy looking piece of brain tissue and it's doing 'something'. Honestly, I think it was there before your injury and your concussion actually let it grow out some," Mags admitted.

She swapped the pictures until she saw one that had colour.

"We ran a dye into your system to highlight any irregularities, but this section isn't connected to your other brain tissue, the dye didn't enter it, but brain synapses are firing out, so it's like a one way track," the doctor went on, but I can tell she was holding something back, dancing around the issue.

"Give it to me solid. I'm not a teenager, I can handle the naked truth," I insisted and Mags snorted.

"Lady, you haven't seen half the stuff out there, but sure. Your new 'lobe'? It's completely smooth, there's no folds. It wasn't buried in all your brain? I would remove it, but I can't. It's in there and well… there's a reason we didn't darken the room," she admitted and went to hit the lights.

When she did so, I didn't know what she was getting at until she pulled a compact mirror and moved it right near my eye, to the point the reflection became blurry.

But blurry or not? I couldn't ignore the slight glow emanating from deep within my eyes. It was so subtle that I thought I had zoned out and the weird space white noise was dancing over my eyes again.

A deep blue glow filtered out occasionally and in that moment, I got a single charge and Mags nearly dropped the mirror as the near-missable glow dialled up to an alarming flare that overrode my natural brown eyes.

There was less… discomfort with this charge. It felt less like a sudden impact and more like a smooth intake of energy than before.

"Contacts… could probably dim that to manageable levels," Mags said finally.

I looked at her.

"I'm a human mood ring stuck on blue!" I cried.

I actually dreaded to think what would happen if I stored two charges now. Would I glow until I spent them?

I mean, it was pretty, but suddenly going jazz-Goa'uld and T-posing on Emma's teacher during a parent-teacher meeting was just not going to go over well.

Emma would love it, bless her heart.

"Well, shit," I said and Mags patted my shoulder.

"Do you want me to hang the Thor calendar up from the staff room? He modelled, but the calendar only has Thursdays on it per his request," she said apologetically.

After a moment, I nodded.

I would need something to stare at gloomily for a while. Why not Thor's body?

It was… medicine for the eyes, just what I needed.

19: The Test. The Flex!

"Since the invasion, tons of people have started glowing. It's not that noticeable," Steve tried as he sat by my bed. I turned to him and raised a brow as I reached over and turned off the bedside lightswitch.

I could see Steve's face become outlined by the pale blue light of my eyes. It was definitely as bad as I thought with two charges. I was like a cat that had a light shined on it.

"If you go when the sun is out, it's not that noticeable," Steve amended, wincing at his own tone.

I blew out a sigh as I turned the light back on.

"It's only this bad because I promised Tony I let him do a scan when I used my… powers," I said, uncomfortable using the word.

"It's not strange. If we team up, we can be the 'Brains and the Brawn'," Steve mused as he looked down at his notepad where a graphite pencil was moving over the paper. The sketch was of some woman with bouncy dark hair in some military costume. She was pretty beyond belief.

"Do you think I'm going to go out in spandex with some star on my head? Is my name going to be 'Patriot Gal'? 'Stars and Spanker'? Oh, how about 'Searchlights of Justice'?" I asked innocently, flicking my eyes at him.

I got a brief smile.

"I like Patriot Gal," he responded with a serious nod.

"No, no! Really, you need a PR agent, ASAP," Tony as he strode in with Bruce falling with heavy bags under his eyes. I winced as I had a feeling I was the reason he was up late.

"Cranium. Blueprint. Hell, get an eyepatch and call yourself Odin. Thor will get you the blessing to do that," Tony said briskly before pointing at Steve.

"Patriot Gal makes you a sidekick," he warned.

"I think you should just keep your head down and get back on your feet. Being a hero is dangerous and you don't get paid," Bruce interrupted as he set up some machine on a nearby table.

"I'll pay her," Tony retorted, slightly insulted.

"Yay, I get to be a corporate mascot," I said flippantly. Tony pulled out a newspaper and a muffin from a bag and I eyed them.

"So, I sell my soul where?" I asked lightly, reaching for the first hint of sugar I've seen in over a day.

Tony seemed to consider before some hint of a conscience and pity hit him. He gave them to me and I devoured the muffin as I read the news.

I was affronted my attack was not page 1 news. I was page 4!

Spider-Man was page 1 and 2, and some news article about a space launch was page 3. The Daily Bugle was such a hack. As Tony and Bruce talked about the machine, all of it going over my head due it involving scanning and brains, I read the paper as Steve sketched. I was a battle medic at most so keeping brains inside the skull was the extent of my expertise.

Spider-Man went on a slight gang-cleaning spree. Supposedly, he had captured over 30 people in connections with illegal underground activities and really putting pressure on the criminal element of the city.

The editor put a spin on it that Spider-Man had only ensured they all walked free by illegally trapping them and causing chaos. Spider-Man was also somehow the gang leader or a rival moving in and removing the competition.

My inner Spy pointed out the cross gang elements and the lack of command officers captured spoke more of a frantic search by Spider-Man who was pruning through all the criminals in search of something or someone.

I hoped she was right. I liked Spider-Man as the average gal went. The fact he was in more than few of my other timelines was only making that more obvious.

I was soon covered in sticky pad sensors as the machine nearby hummed.

"What we're doing is going to just pick up any passive surges you give off. I don't think we want you leaking radiation or something every time you get smarter," Tony said as he attached the last pad.

"Short of building or hauling in a MRI scanner, this is the best we're going to get," Bruce added.

"I could build that, I just don't want to keep you down here an extra hour," Tony promised, his smirk almost at punchable levels.

"Don't I need to sign consent forms for this?" I asked as Lawyer Sandra raised the point.

"Do you want our help?" Tony asked quickly. I blinked at the questions.

"Sure-" I began, just getting ready to point out the issues of it all.

"Great, now just lay back and we'll get started," Tony said as he gestured for Steve to stand back.

"That's what my ex said to me before my first kid and I've never liked him since," I replied flatly.

"You have two kids," Bruce pointed out.

"Hate sex is a thing," I said back, flushed as I was suddenly reminded I was surrounded by men. Where was Natasha when I needed her? She didn't function as a person rightly, but she was a number in my favour.

"Alright, so we'll do a control test and a follow up test. You said you could do this two times?" Bruce asked, taking over as Tony became invested in the machine and its readings.

"So, you suggest a topic and then I'll do one of my own choice to see if there's any change over what I get told to get and what I want for myself," I said to make sure I understood. I got a nod from Bruce and a gentle thumbs up from Steve who looked ready to spring into action in case Tony and Bruce's machine began to kill me or something.

I weakly checked the nearby air vents, hoping to see Natasha's watching eyes for mortal support, but she was either not in the vent or she was smart enough not to push her nose against the grate.

I wondered why those vents were so large, but Custodian Sandra and Lawyer Sandra said that in the early reconstruction of world war 2, the US supreme court ruled all buildings over a certain height needed to have crawlable vents for repairs and to attempt to ensure air flow reached trapped people incase the building ever collapsed.

Weird law, but who was I to argue with a law that was older than my parents?

"Alright, the first one is… -" Bruce cut himself off as he looked at the list.

"Tony," he said flatly. The man in question looked up, innocent.

"I think pole dancing is a mystical art in this great country that you've never heard of. Are you mocking a tradition of a country you've never been to?" Tony asked, accusation heavy in his voice, but under the combined look of myself, Steve, and Bruce he shrugged.

"Fine, move down the list," he said with a sigh of defeat.

"You said you had no experience beyond basic highschool chemistry and that was about twenty years ago so I think even if it isn't effective, Chemistry is a great thing to know about," Bruce said kindly.

"I mean it's cool, but it's not engineering," Tony said with a small smile. I was going to go so hard into Chemistry just to spite Tony. Then I was going to put laxatives in his coffee. I put a point into chemistry and I was not sure how alarmed I should be that my star for this one was a flask exploding in an atomic mushroom cloud.

Chemistry was broad, but it was also a good thing. Having a sample of 'all the chemistry' let me see where similar basic points collided. Working with acid or reactive compounds pretty much ensured you had a bucket of water nearby if things went wrong.

This was followed by reactive elements, noble stuff, and elements outright toxic to people. I learned how to perform basic experiments such as creating smells, making salt, and all the basic stuff you'd trust a kid to do, but it also went deeper. I learned about mass, chemical bonds, and more.

Then to cap it off, I learned… word for word… a song.

"There's Hydrogen and Helium then Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon everywhere. Nitrogen all through the air," I sang, feeling my mood rise.

Engineer Sandra and Chemist Sandra eyed each other, but there were missing elements to fully merge into a more singular Sandra for now.

"Okay… Bruce… what am I looking at?" Tony asked slowly as the machine displayed something I couldn't see from my bed. Bruce leaned in, tapping on the tiny attached keyboard.

"Not radiation or thermal energy… not noise, but something just pushed the needle past energy levels that I've seen in reactor cores," he said slowly. Oh, that sounded healthy…

"So, if you crack my head open, I'll blow the country?" I asked sharply.

"No, otherwise your skull would crack. It's just bone. It's a massively contained… hole in reality that thins to let things through, but not too thinly that it's dangerous, I think," Tony said excitedly at the possible blackhole in my head.

"It's gone inert again so it's clearly only active for a moment or two," Bruce announced, frowning as if such a power source shouldn't just turn on and off like a switch.

"When you spent your 'charge' what you did was basically knock on this 'hole'. It responded and became thinner and produced something. It spread to your brain, but what it did I don't know, but now you know chemistry," Bruce explained.

'Nothing duct tape won't fix,' Battlefield medic Sandra announced.

"Can anything come out of that hole?" I asked, worried about my head splitting open one day and hundreds of tiny Sandras with different jobs rushing out to save the world. Tony shook his head.

"No way, it has to be either pure energy or able to become so small…" Tony thought of something.

"No, pretty sure to make the wall thin out, you either need enough energy to crack space as it is or your unique method of opening it," he promised.

"Alright, Sandra… this next one is yours," Bruce said calmly and reset the machine back to its base settings and I made sure to warn them that two charges sometimes go a little weird. They didn't seem concerned.

I inhaled once and decided to keep things mostly sane and choose Biology as a nice synergetic counter to Chemistry and-

"This is evil!" I roared, flipping the table of prized books and papers. The noise was enough to make the two men stop snarling at each other.

"It's bad enough you're both using my lab, my company, my name to fund your research, neither of which is likely to be viable outside your own cases. Kurt, your serum is so hideously locked into your own DNA that it'll likely become a virus if you spread it. Michael, your idea? It's insane. Your disease is tragic, but some last ditch effort into an experiment you have 'theories' on is ludercious," I snarled.

There was a silence as some of the various animals shifted in their enclosures.

"Dr AeKure, I am this close to unlocking the lizard DNA properties of regeneration, new limbs grown with some rest! It could change the world," Kurt pleaded and I looked at his missing arm.

"And I'm sure this avenue of research has no reward or personal interest on your end," I said back testily, making Kurt's face darken.

"I want all research on both experiments on my desk tomorrow morning. I was only able to fund one, but at this rate I'll likely have to terminate both of your contracts for idiotic self-testing and disregarding every sense of science procedure because your arrogance presumes to know better," I sighed as I sat down in my chair, feeling ever so tired.

Michael came closer, the more cool-headed of the two.

"Sandra. I'm going to die," he began and he said this with the unsaid comment of 'not just missing a damn arm'.

"If I don't get funding, I will die and I am scared," he pleaded.

"And instead of telling me that from the start, you've been stealing supplies and spending money that didn't belong to you. You're pleading your case only after you've been caught almost getting away with it," I said to him, more hurt than angry.

"Both of you go. I need to report both of these disasters to the committee of the university that was funding us. My name will be pulled through the mud for letting it get this far," I whispered. They left after some moments, leaving me alone in my office.

I went to a shelf and pulled off the whiskey I was given for getting my PHD. I popped it and broke my ten-year sobriety in the wake of this disaster. I pulled a letter of recommendation, suggesting Michael Morbious take over from my failure position and be given a chance at his own highly promised experimentation.

At this rate, the man had more reason than Connors for his test.

I also suggested Connors get a position in the Florida Glades were a highly promising Doctor was doing research on the alligators there. Maybe he could find what he needed there, and Martha, the doctor, was a nice woman. He might stop being so hastily if he found a friend.

I would take the burn for us all. I had enough cash to live until I found another position. I could have the mortal highground, but I wasn't missing an arm or God forbid, dying of a painful blood disease.

Walk a mile in their shoes and all…

They would cool off, come in to rant and then I hit them with the news.

We all needed some time to think. It would be good for us.

I did not relish the idea of looking Norman Osborn in the face at the committee and explaining the failure. He would hold this over my head forever, the prick.

Time later.

Why… was it always me? I ran through the street as it exploded behind me.

"Doctor AeKure… you're looking a little poor. Let me lift you up," came a cackle as someone grabbed her shirt collar and lifted her off the ground before slamming me into a wall where I slumped down. I panted.

I looked up at the figure. The animalistic distorted body leaned forward on remnants of a glider. The distorted figure had a pincer on one hand, a stinger tail, malformed wings, and scaled skin; he wore dirty purple garments and a mask that barely fit over his gremlin-like face.

The Chimera Goblin only got uglier the more I saw him.

"Gobby, what's wrong? Didn't like my dissertation on how you suck and glueing random animal parts to your DNA is the most idiotic thing I've seen in years?" I spat, tasting copper in my mouth.

The tail stinger went for my throat, but a dark form slammed into the Goblin, flying through the air.

The pale skin and snarling bat face attempted to rip open the goblin's throat with fangs larger than butcher knives.

Then I was being hauled away by what seemed like a humanoid Sewer gator.

"Not the reunion I was hoping for… doctor," the Lizard man rasped as he quickly scaled the building with inhuman agility.

"Were you one of my rescue lizards from the lab? Man, you guys got swole," I muttered as we crossed over the edge as the vampire dude was flung away.

Then it was the chase of the human, the lizard, the vampire, and the chimera. I looked in the distance and the multi-limbed figure of Spider-Man was rushing towards us, his many eyes and bulging body decorated with stripes of red fabric.

And here came the hero to add the cherry.

I blinked to see Tony spraying his scanner machine with a fire extinguisher and I looked up at Steve as he was hauling me outside the room.

"I am not paying for that," I said quickly as fans turned on and began to filter the smoke away. Tony stuck his head around the frame.

"It's not an accident, it's a challenge," he promised brightly, his eyes watering from the smoke.

"I don't think we should casually prod Sandra's hole. It causes shortages," Bruce coughed as he followed us into the hall a moment later.

"We must prod it for science," Tony said firmly.

"I'm going to hit them," I warned Steve flatly. His arms were so firm and he was rather warm. Maybe I could convince the doctor Steve was a better bed than my actual bed?

Speaking of firm things, Biology had settled in nicely giving me a wide berth of subjects. Most of it was focused around cells. Development, mutation, death, rejuvenation, and a lot of plant systems. It came with a nice map of the body. Some of it made Battle Medic Sandra go 'ah, that's why they scream when I stab them with feel good stuff'.

Sometimes I worry about the voices in my head.

I was released from the medical ward as Tony deemed my charges as 'contained'. Someone would literally need to be touching me and holding something sensitive to the energy that Tony had dubbed 'Awesoium' to notice anything. I couldn't be bothered arguing it so I guess I now gave off Awesoium when I learned things.

Bruce was nicer and called it 'Mom Force'. I was low-key happy with that, but as I was free to wander the non-secure locations of the Tower and stay in the guest rooms, I was… restless. While the view was amazing and Tony's place had everything one could likely want…

I didn't want to look 'down' at New York. I wanted to be in it. Emma and Nico were enjoying the time off school, but I had been worried about Nico when he insisted he wanted to go out and spend time with his friends, but keeping them locked up in fear was only going to make Nico either sneak out or resent me.

Emma had become somewhat a little duckling of Tony's second in command, Pepper Potts. The woman was everything Emma aspired to be. Strong, took no crap, and wasn't that impressed much with boys and their toys.

I think I was beginning to haunt the tower too much like a lady in white because Tony soon appeared and guided me to some space near the back of the tower that I don't think people could just go.

After a moment, rows of armours lit up, backlit to show their forms all had a rough similarities to them.

"I know… that when you suddenly have little choice when it comes to adapt or die that it can change you," Tony began as he brushed a hand over a particularly rough looking suit made of welded metal and rusty joints that had more than a few bullet dents in it. He turned and his strange chest core thing was easily visible in the low light.

"When you fought the Halloween creep, you adapted, but we patched you together, but how's the head? How's the Sandra motto of life?" he asked and he leaned against a wall near a suit. I could now see there were little labels about, but there were… gaps. Like erased important historical events.

The prototype… mark 2 then mark 3… mark 6 then 7 followed by 8 but then it jumped to the mark 11.

The Mark 11 looked unfinished, perhaps not far off, but with what little I knew about Mechanical Engineering? It was close, at least on the outside.

"I feel like my life was ripped away from me with no choice. Every turn and choice seems to be trying to lead me into a destructive spin of getting stronger or becoming a hero and fighting crime. I feel that… someone made a choice for me and I don't if she knew exactly what that entailed, but it affected me. Maybe it saved me? Maybe it was setting me up to get my powers? I just know my life is moving on and I had to leave everything behind in ashes. I'm starting anew with my kids," I breathed out.

Tony just watched me so I kept going.

"Maybe if I was twenty years younger and didn't have my kids? I might have embraced it, but I feel too old to be punching muggers or posing against the moon at night," I laughed, but it was a little sad.

"Getting stronger, constantly improving is a good kick. You can get into it," Tony admitted. I put a hand on the mark 11, feeling how cold it was.

"Getting better for the sake of simply getting better sounds great, but it's not what's going to make me happy. I don't live to feel superior or flexing on people. I'm happy because I've made people happy. Listening to them or offering them coffee or just cooking," I looked at Tony, wincing.

"I'm not really the right person for this power, am I?" I asked bluntly.

"Well no, but if we were all perfect and what we're supposed to be. I would be Howard Stark's prodigal son who helped develop his daddy's company of selling weapons for the greater good or maybe making secret cults. Instead, I'm devoted to helping people and developing technology for the next generation. I think it's guilt for my rambunctious twenties," he mused aloud.

"I think the world would be a lot better if we had more people making weird coffee than buzz blades of thermal doom. Until then, you do what you can and make what you need to to survive. There's always a mark 12 or 100, but there's only so many people left you can lose," Tony said, putting an arm around my shoulder and leading me to what had to be some lab.

I wasn't going to tell him about the battery acid coffee. His argument was making me feel better, I didn't need to melt it in a scream of agony.

"So, go crazy!" he spread his arms and I stared at him, not understanding.

"No. I like being sane," I said meekly.

'You tell him!' Barista Sandra yelled.

Logic Sandra was screaming with her head inside a barrel of water.

"No sanity here. We invent because we must, no off you go," Tony insisted, pushing me towards a large table. I mental scanned what I could make that wasn't… too much.

The only one I could think of popped into my head and began to just let it flow. Weirdly, it was much easier to stay in control as I began to collect things. I think my new growth mitigated some pressure or issue I was having.

I said 'some' because moments later I tasted a screwdriver to make sure it was 'adequate'. I grabbed a whole lot of spare metal shavings that Tony never got around to discarding as I powered up a nifty looking blowtorch. The temperature had to be higher… no higher…

I took off the nozzle and used the screwdriver to make the exit narrower so the flames were compressed for more huzzah. After that I threw in some extras. Thanks to Chemistry, I used some old lead paint instead of the boring new safe stuff. Tony's lab was like a hoarders treasure trove!

I looked up at Tony who was standing way back. I gave him a thumbs up around my makeshift mask that I had fashioned out of two plastic bottles, elastic bands and a bunch of charcoal. As my concoction began to melt, I did something… or did I add something? I did something to the something and the mix stopped being so toxic as I stirred it, using the blowtorch and a metal sheet I battered into a rough bowl shape.

Whistling,I slowly collected the goop in a jar before making bands out of the remainder to dry like jerky on the table. Once done, I applied a series of quick brushes with this cool mixture made of… I think lightbulbs and some toothpaste, one side of the goop became extremely adhesive to the point that I was scared to remove it off skin without treatment. The rest was added to the jar to make the stuff adhesive as someone painted it.

"Flex tape," I announced grandly.

His ceiling fans were doing some laps as they provided me with cool air.

"I think I saw the same process of making something in Macbeth, the three witches did roughly the same thing, but it involved the eye of newt," Tony called. Yeah, well, the witches couldn't cause lead poisoning by proxy with their brew, so I was sure I was better.

I turned to clean up.

"Jarvis, is it toxic?" Tony called as he approached. Overhead speakers of some kind came on.

" Surprisingly not, sir. Residue scans to show it to be non-toxic on contact," the AI reported helpfully. I heard a sticking noise. I snapped my head around to stare at the man who many called a genius.

"Oh, that's spicy," Tony said as he eyed the tape he just stuck to his hand. He tried to peel it.

"Ow… ow… ow…" he winced, but the tape didn't budge at his gentle tugging. I watched as he tried to run it under water, the tape just sticking with him.

"You could make a boat out of this stuff and it holds," I said faintly.

"I can fix this," Tony announced gravely and wandered off to a wall where many tools shined. I was about to offer a dissolvant idea when I remembered he called my craft the same as a witch's brew. All my Sandras took offence to that so I turned to a nearby panel.

"You recording?" I asked Jarvis.

" Yes, Miss AeKure," he responded. I sat down and popped a soda from Tony's on-lab fridge.

"Let me know when he reaches the stage of cutting his hand off," I said smoothly, sipping something that tasted far too sweet. The lights flickered.

"Okay, it doesn't peel when shocked! Good to know, can use that on lightning rods," Tony said, mostly talking to himself as he moved about.

'There is a lot to unpack here' Logic Sandra said flatly.

'Write that down!' Engineer Sandra barked at Biologist Sandra who was busy doodling dinosaurs with capes.

'Coffee cake, how deep can we go?' Barista asked Chef who thought about it.

Really, between Tony nearly setting himself on fire and my mind… who needed TV?

20: Cloak and Daggers?! Welcome home.

Hiding any alertness for figures in the air, I waved Emma off as she walked into her school. I didn't think even the Green Goblin would bomb kids. I think that, if nothing else, it made him look pathetic.

I think even the villains that plagued the city would simply not tolerate that shit. It would be hard enough trying to dodge the heroes, but the villains as well? The Green Goblin would just be miserable.

I don't think even his weird boy band, the Sinister Six, would let him back in.

Though, I have been hearing things about the Vulture… the old one, not the younger one. I turned and climbed back into the very unremarkable brown car that I had basically thrown Happy into.

Driving big armoured tank-cars was just asking for trouble. I wanted to drive myself, but Happy insisted. I suspected Tony was using him as revenge about the tape, even though he did that to himself.

I had no idea how he managed to get both sides of the tape stuck to his face and hand along with what seemed a dozen wires. I finally made a workable dissolvant when I saw he wasn't going to give up and ask for help.

Tony Stubborn Stark, was his full name it turned out.

"Back to the tower, miss?" Happy asked behind his black shades that he used to make people nervous. He looked out one window and kids that were being too loud scurried off like Happy was the specter of death or getting old and boring.

"Nope. I need clothes. I need things and tools then you can drop me off by my building that's going to start being charged soon and I don't have renters in," I said easily, settling back to relax.

After a moment, I saw Happy was trying to figure out where to take someone that didn't have Pepper or Tony's budget.

"The big Walmart just off Tonnele Avenue," I said dryly.

"Walmart's quite exposed," Happy pointed out as he turned the car on.

"Don't worry, the crazy will hide me. I just need to find the nearest woman in her pyjamas or the guy walking around with twenty guns," I said easily as we drove off.

This was going to be fun. Shopping and hoarding things were a guilty pleasure of mine along with feeding people.

Nico didn't skip too often, but he did it when Mr Tafferty substituted. The guy literally did not care if the classroom was on fire. Nico didn't hate school, but he did think it was a bit of a drone manufacturer for the 1%.

He slipped down the side streets he was familiar with from his years of practising his trade. He checked his phone and saw Peter had sent a 'no luck' text. Nico's friend was hunting the murderous monster that tried to kill his Mom.

Nico wished he could do something, but without something of the Green Goblins or some backup, his magic was… tame. Peter was also just being plain weird, as if he was holding something back about the whole mess.

Peter took this personally as if he invited the Goblin to attack them, but Nico wasn't sure. Peter was a bit of a martyr when the school lunches ran out of jello before they could get some. 'Dramatic' was a good word for Peter… 'Sometimes a little lost in his own existence' was another few words.

But the real rough of it was that he couldn't do anything to protect his Mom. His ward was useless to someone just bombing the damn place. His magic made Nico feel… useful, and it hit close to his now burning home that in the scheme of it all, he wasn't that much better than some hedge wizard waving incense about.

He ducked into an unmarked store and managed to step over the slight repelling spell that pushed the nosy normal folk away. The bell above the door was annoyingly cheerful in the otherwise dark shop. The place stank of rosemary and sage burning somewhere. Shelves of useless or oddities lined the walls while overpriced fake or incomplete magical texts for beginners were piled on a middle table.

Nico knew this the hard way after buying more than a few over the last year.

The woman behind the counter slowly turned what seemed like a comic book. The loud noise effects and blustering main character on the pages amused the woman, but she flicked her eyes up at Nico.

"Nico, why the long face?" the woman asked as she slowly pulled back her pure white hair back in a ponytail, shutting the comic book before putting it away.

"My house was bombed and a maniac attacked my Mom," Nico reponsed, voice tense before he forced a smile.

"How are you Alicia?" he asked, perhaps a little too sarcastically.

With annoying ease, the woman's finger tip glowed white and she drew a quick smile in the air, the burning white light lingering for a moment.

"Peachy," she popped the word out. Nico had a deep inner envy of Alicia's supposedly ease of conjuring what seemed like light magic without any aid or ritual, but he composed himself.

"I want to learn what you do," Nico said abruptly.

"Nope," Alicia said flatly as she stood up and there came a snort from the back of the store where it was so dark that Nico couldn't see beyond the beaded drapes separating it from the front of the store.

"Ignore Drumm, but he's right. It's a lot to suddenly ask. What happened to 'wicca is enough'," Alicia asked and Nico bite back his first response of 'I guess it wasn't!' and looked down.

"I need something," he said finally.

"Nico, we're not going to be here for long. Once we do something personal, me and Drumm are going to leave. We don't have the time for a legit training process," Alicia sighed as she looked around the store.

"You have to know someone?" Nico pressed. Alicia snorted.

"Sure, we know tons of names. None of them will know us, though," she said breezily and walked around to tidy the store up. From the back of the store, a figure of a man moved about, more one with the shadows than not.

"You know the rule of magic, boy. If there is magic to be gained then there is a price. For some, it is years of practise, others it is service of a high power. To be a witch is to serve the Goddess of Witchcraft in the Witch's Road. To be a druid is to serve the land… to be a shaman is to be a medium between the spirits and the flesh," Drumm's voice called out.

"And what was your price?" Nico asked hotly, wishing that people would stop telling him there was a price. He heard that anytime he wanted a soda…

"We have to do this cloak and dagger shit but we aren't even home. We're always on the road picking up our mistakes," Alicia said flatly, poking Nico in the arm.

"And where's home?" Nico asked, rubbing his with a frown. Alicia had a hard pke.

"7316," Drumm called out flatly. Nico raised a brow but Alicia coughed.

"Area code. I'm from all over and Drumm was on a sabbatical for a long time, but this isn't home," Alicia said quickly. Nico began to angrily slam money on the counter, his savings for sometime was pretty impressive for a teen.

"I need something, someone! I can't let this happen again," Nico said to them as he remembered seeing the explosions, Emma screaming as the building fell on their Mom. He was so… useless.

"Well, I hate to see another good kid lost to ole 'Phisto," Alicia muttered before she turned to the back of the store.

"Drumm, anyone you can think of?" she asked casually.

"Anita Blake?" the shadow man offered. Alicia made a gagging noise.

"He'd be worse with the actual devil," she said. Nico was mentally writing all these names down just in case they ended up being no help.

"Carlton Beatrice? Is he decent?" she asked as if she wasn't sure. How many Carlton Beatrice could there be who used magic?

"Nope. Sticks souls in wafers," Drumm reported.

"Donald Blake? I know his break-up from Thor was messy, but sometimes-" Alicia began thoughtfully.

"Canoodled with the end serpent and went whacko," Drumm said flatly.

"Our teacher?" Alicia asked, sounding exasperated with existence around her.

"Off by a few years. It's our teacher's teacher right now," Drumm said which made no sense.

"Well, how about to offer something then?" Alicia threw a ball of light at Drumm who made it vanish with a weird sucking noise.

"Agatha," he said finally and Alicia physically blanched at the name.

"Remind me…" she said, shooting Nico a long look.

"Nannied the Richards kid. Died a few times. Has issues with Scarlet Witch," Drumm reported, listing it. Hearing this, Alicia sighed in relief.

"Thank God it's not the Stepford Wife one… that was a mess," She brightened, physically glowing for a moment, before she reached over and wrote down an address and handed it to Nico along with all his cash.

"Good luck. Old Aggy doesn't bend easy," she warned. That sounded ominous, but Nico nodded slowly.

"Thank you," he said and Alicia snorted.

"You won't thank me when you meet her," she promised and ushered Nico out of the store. He turned to say she didn't need to rush him, but the store was… gone. A boring and weed covered parking lot stood before him. Nico stepped into its space, testing for some invisibility spell.

He looked down at the address before he walked stiffly off. Agatha was going to help him. She was going to make him stronger…

This was the opportunity he wanted.

He thought maybe Alicia and Drumm could help him or maybe some hedge practitioners, but it turned out…

It was Agatha all along.

I stood outside my new building to an odd sight. Tabitha and Laura were painting the cracked entrance hall with red paint. I hoped it was paint, but maybe it was also the Green Goblin's blood with what I knew of Laura so far.

"Heyo, landlady," Tabitha called before Laura eyed Happy in the car, her lips curling back at the 'government' look Happy was sporting.

"He's a friend," I said as I walked in carrying a bunch of tools and bags. I waved as Happy reluctantly drove off. I had a feeling Tony wanted to chain me up in his lab and make me crank out weird inventions for his amusement. Poor Happy had to explain he let me go to frolic freely in the wildness of New York.

"You okay?" Laura asked as she eyed me for damage, her dark leather jacket was paint splattered, but she didn't seem to care. I mentally winced at knowing it may be beyond saving.

"I gave as good as I got," I said evenly, knowing she was referring to my 'battle'. Knowing my chain of connections, Nico told them or my boss did when they came in for coffee. Mr Geoff was great, he was understanding and said I could take time off since sales were up for a moment.

"Hell yeah you did! So… where can a girl get one of those buzz saw guns?" Tabitha leaned on my shoulder, batting her eyes. I remembered the smell of burning metal, the sound of it leaving the weapon, the screech of metal, the explosion it causes-

"Tabby," Laura cautioned and Tabitha took my bags from my hand.

"Forget it, it would class with my nails," she announced, flashing her pink nails. I blinked.

What the hell was that?!

'Shock, traumatic experiences, unfinished issues,' Logic Sandra said evenly.

'Not enough coffee," Barista butted in.

I got a charge abruptly and Laura's eyes widened but after a moment she purposely looked away as not to draw attention to my eyes. Wincing, I reached into my pocket where Tony's freshly made contacts sat in their box. They would dim the glow, but I hadn't put them in.

Quickly, I looked at my building and funneled the charge into Security, hoping to make a slight difference in case someone decided to drop in with a few bombs.

The star of a spinning safe dial glowed brighter.

I began to see that security was a broad topic, but it was beginning to wrap up loose ends. I could reliably implement locking devices in cars and to know how to add unorthodox means to keep a door shut. The building before me had way too many ways to get in and out, it was surrounded by buildings with greater heights to allow nosy people to spy on me.

The knowledge came with tons of ideas that weren't too hard to implement. Lace curtains could let sunlight in, but obscure sight. Plants on the roof with high leaves were both enjoyable and made it harder to see along with perhaps hanging gardens with lattice woodwork.

The ideas kept spinning into upgrading the simple keys to keycards, but Custodian grumbled about the cost and the power bills. Deep in my psyche… Security Guard Sandra looked out from her cardboard box, uttering a single word in a hiss from her 'fort'.

'Necessary!' she warned.

I was low-key dreading to see what blueprints Security gave me. I swear if I got one of those devices that needed some random key found in a crypt located in the basement to access the roof to get a single part of a puzzle piece to open the bathroom?

I was setting fire to the place.

"Love the red, seems in your face," I said finally and Tabitha grinned.

"You got to stick your guns up. Show people you're ready to throw down," she warned, pretending to shadow box before Laura silently adjusted Tabitha's posture with a single hand.

"White is bland and is used in padded cells," Laura added flatly.

Oh… kay then.

The building was going to need some work done, but a few hours later I was pretty sure my apartment was looking pretty good. The floors seemed to be stable and a lot of it just needed to be cleaned with a few very noisy boards ripped up and new ones cut anew.

I was dreading hauling a machine to cut wood in, but Laura gave me a look that I was sure was 'really'? She ended up slicing spare lumber into roughly the right size with her claws before sanding it down with sandpaper. I was being a little selfish doing my apartment first cause I was technically the most homeless of us three and with kids.

Tabitha and Laura didn't seem to mind. Honestly, they were weirdly enjoying the no-drama, no-fuss work. I checked Tabitha's burns during a break, pleased how she was healing and she told me that their friend, Tatiana had finally stopped enjoying Fox News, meaning she was finally clear of Stryker's influence.

It wasn't too long before the furniture I ordered began to show up. My kids would have to forgive me for the simple beds and such. It would take time before we could splash out and really decorate our respective spaces. The bigger apartments would have two bedrooms so I was going to give up having my own space and have a fold out couch so Emma and Nico didn't need to share.

It was a tight squeeze, but it was a roof and four walls.

"What about your sex life!? You can't…" Tabitha waved her hands and Laura closed her eyes, mentally counting as if she had heard this complaint too many times. I gestures to the sofa.

"I don't have the time or the callers to worry about that," I said sagely.

"If someone touches me longer than a few seconds, I want to hurt them," Laura reminded Tabitha who spun on her friend, blond hair bouncing.

"Yes, but you're half-girl, half-angry yeti beast from the alps. Sandra is a mature and sensible woman in the dying prime of her life," Tabitha lectured.

"I'm 33," I said, voice hollow as I felt wrinkles appear all over my body at her words.

"Lady that's double my age almost," Tabitha reminded me and I became dust and bones, lost to the ravages of time.

I silently held on to Tabitha's arm before forcing a smile.

"Your youth is wasted, give it," I encouraged. Tabitha began to grin before she obviously remembered my Grater and Pills.

"Ah… nah, you're young… man you look so young," Tabitha laughed and reached for Laura without looking.

"You said don't get involved when things kick off," Laura batted the hand off and wandered off to paint more walls. Tabitha seemed to curse.

"No more fortune cookies for her," she said before I let her go.

"Go help her before I begin to tell you how to burn a mixtape onto a CD," I said dryly. At Tabitha's confused look, my eye began to twitch.

Still, I guess it was good that Tabitha and Laura could still joke… after everything they went through… were going through. I let them tease me about my age, it wasn't a big deal honestly, and I think they needed whatever time they could to just laugh and relax as much as they could.

The world was shitty enough at times, but their home and their landlady didn't need to add to that.

I had Emma and Nico by my side as Laura and Tabitha joined us on the roof, my cups of coffee and free sodas were as good as it got for christening my building.

Nico looked weirdly serious, but he brushed off any concerns. It was like he was studying for a serious test, but didn't want his mother helping because he wanted to prove he could do it. He and Tabitha had a quiet talk which ended with Tabitha slinging arm around Nico's neck, calling him 'neighbour' to his sulky horror.

"So, I think that while the Loch Ness Monster has water superiority, which is great, Mothman has aerial advantage which is arguably better when Nessie doesn't have anti-air missiles," Emma explained to Laura who thought about it.

"But what if the Loch Ness can breach the water at such speeds it can grab the Mothman?" Laura asked seriously.

I was… not getting involved in that discussion.

After much grumbling and debating, I decided to put the name on the building down as 'AeKure Acres'. It supposedly had a better ring than my last idea. As we talked, I watched New York turn dark and the lights came on. I could see Tony's tower.

I wondered if he could see me if he tried?

Someone moved overhead and we all looked up.

"Spider-Man!" Emma cheered, the red and blue hero waved, but he was moving too fast for me to get a clear look.

I didn't see a trench coat or multiple arms, so I wondered what 'my' Spider-Man was like? I had a feeling I might find out one day, but I didn't see how he would be connected to me unless we bonded over hating the Green Goblin.

As the hero vanished, I felt a charge emerge and felt 'safe' not to need my contacts since everyone here knew about my powers.

I honestly felt… ready to just have fun with a charge. I did it with coffee and it brought me great pleasure. I could be serious tomorrow with more charges, but in this environment with my kids and first renters?

I wanted to just relax with them in the same manner.

I remembered an old toy I had, more a relic my parents let me keep. An old clock with one of those birds that popped out to chirp on the hour. I remember seeing the insides one and all the twisting gears and cogs that made it work.

I asked for Clockwork. The symbol for this was… a mechanical owl? The knowledge easily came under the tree of Mechanical Engineer, but it had a fantastic narrow niche of turning the energy powered cogs into oddly complex machines with little or no wires or circuits involved. I learned about the art of the subject, how one little device could easily span the width of a table if you laid its parts out in order.

Mechanical Engineering showed how the turning and the ability to create systems of pulleys and timetable ticks of levers or cogs was easily doable on different scales. If you could crank it, you could power it.

It was almost useless in its current state and nothing engineering couldn't cover it if it tried, but it was… so nice to know. How it worked.

I understood my old clock better and it made me smile.

I went to tell Emma the difference between an internal gear, a spur, and a helical because it was interesting! Emma indulged me with a smile as Laura stared at me as if I had grown a second head.

I should do this more often.

Watch out world, here came Trivia!

She wasn't a superhero, she just was annoying with her factoids.

21: Tick Tock. Hello Sandra.

"Thank you," I mumbled, face down on the cool desk. There was a bemused chuckle as Foggy printed out another sheet of paper.

"It's fine. I'm not exactly up to date with New York tenant agreements, but a classmate is and she said these ones are pretty standard and slightly flexible within a small margin of rent adjustments. You just need to keep on top of it or have a business handle it for you for a small fee," he explained as he chewed something that may have been left over burger.

My own law skills were lacking, but it didn't seem like such a world crushing issue when I had people I knew that I could depend on for that. Matt, Foggy, and Karen were a great reminder to myself that I didn't need to handle every little thing myself.

Not that I might not one day put a charge into law again. Knowing what I legally could and could not do was likely going to save me from a lot of trouble down the road I assume.

I slipped over a few dollars to replace the amount of printer paper and ink I was using and thankfully, Foggy didn't fight me on it.

"How's the place looking?" Foggy asked conversationally, wiping burger grease away with a napkin that he used as a notepad, smearing blue on one cheek.

"Rough, but solid," I said after a moment as a light rain started outside. Perhaps 'illegally' I let Laura and Tabitha start moving stuff into their chosen apartments, both selecting nice one-bedrooms on the fourth floor. I tried to convince them to take the room across from me on the fifth, but they said I should keep that for someone quiet.

I thought Laura was quiet, but she had issues with wide open spaces which I guess was fair.

I drew a quick doodle to show him the building.

"Five floors, the first four floors have four units; each being one bedroom. The top floor was the old landlords before me so it consists of two apartments with two bedrooms each and the roof access. It has a little lobby area, a courtyard and access to the alley behind," I said, my sketch looking little better than Emma's on our old fridge.

I felt pain well up at the thought of those pictures burning to ash, so I shifted to Steve and his drawing skills. Maybe I could learn some theory and we could sketch together?

"So, you could easily have 17 singles or upwards of 34 couples or 32 couples and maybe a family of four in the final one," Foggy said, tapping it. I did a quick mental math of the income. At the suggested $500, that was easily seventeen hundred a month off rent…

But Tabitha, Laura, and even Nico were pushing me to make it $700, which was still amazingly cheap for New York. That pushed my monthly income of $23,000ish.

Keeping my job and doing some repairs myself and if things go well, have talks about upping rent to make it nicer…

I shook my head, knowing I was getting too ahead of myself.

"If you start earning more money than me, remember your old pal Foggy when he becomes homeless," Foggy said, eyeing the maths he was doing, looking physically close to blowing out a sigh.

"Business is still slow?" I asked and Foggy shot a look at the wall, as if he could glare into Matt's side.

"Business is fine, but it would be 'successful' if we accepted payments other than bread sticks, soups, and blessing from the ancestors as payment," he said roughly, leaning into his palm.

"If any of my tenants need legal aid, I'll send them your way," I promised and as I stood up.

"Warn them that I want rolls with the soup," he joked, but I put the agreements in my bag and left the office with a nod to Karen. As I left, I eyed the rain with a sigh and wondered if I could wonder myself into building a car from wood and cogs?

The bus fare would drain my coffers faster than building expenses at this rate.

As I waited for the bus, I still had to consider what I was going to use my morning charge on. My priorities were to turn my building into a safe place, and perhaps learning ways to mitigate masked maniacs coming after me.

So fortification, building skills, some sort of warning system or bunker…

More defensive stuff for people I cared about would be nice, but my tech was… if it wasn't built to the exact blueprint? It could go the way of the Buzz Saw and explode.

After pondering my options, I decided to at least see what Security offered at the first threshold of technology. It would help me overall secure things in my life, so it wasn't like it was wasted either.

The star glowed and I inhaled as I became rather fixated on locks.

This side of the knowledge touched upon hidden switches or safes disguised as bookcases or hidden behind paintings. The lightest touches on security cameras, how to assess or even assemble the most basic of ones that would take images every 10 seconds. I learned about ways to make the building seem less of a target. Looking out, I saw shops and stores, guessing where their alarm sensors were placed or the likely place of the office would be to locate the keypad.

I waited and was rewarded with the gift of more weird technology to build.

The thing I guess I hadn't really understood was that being a master of security was basically the flip side of knowing how to break said security. My first invention seemed incredibly useful… I think.

It was a skeleton key of sorts. The catch was that it didn't interact with existing locks or such. It was a long brass thing that hid incredibly complex circuits that with my basic skills in Mechanical Engineering made my head hurt. It made sense if I didn't look closely. If pressed to a door, it generated a keyhole by… parsing the bonds of the material? It did something to space before 'created' a lock by stretching the material out the door into all sides of the frame.

It turned any door without a lock into… a locked door!

Doors, car doors, drawers, and more. It needed a composition of wood or alloy, otherwise it just didn't work. I didn't know how it detected it was touching a door, some gadget inside I supposed, but it was pretty impressive.

I decided to call it the 'Locker Key'.

I'm sure Emma would be so disappointed in me that I didn't name it the 'GATE-A-NATOR' or something.

The next thing to come had me a little less convinced of its usefulness. I think… It was mounted turret for the ceiling.

It was a glistening tri-barrel retractable series of machine guns. The targeting was tied to alarms that had been tripped and they were set to reload or be repaired inside the wall on their stands. Their firerate was close to 1200 rounds per minute.

Who the hell would want these things?!

I twitched as the blueprint began to click and integrate with another blueprint. Oh God…

One of the oldest tech I had, the condiment guns began to disassemble in my head. The live ammunition of the turret was stripped away before being replaced with small canisters of various ammos. The tri-turret went from having a uniformed look to each turret a different shape. One was a gas dispenser of spices and pepper mixed with onion juice left to ferment.

The next was a liquid gun, primed with either hot sauce primed to lock onto the target's eyes, or oils aimed at the feet if the eyes were obscured.

The last was the 'solids'. It seemed to be weirdly designed to cook and disperse yeast at high rates to the point the bread rose around targets, becoming hindrances or outright burying them under layers of bread.

The other option was potatoes.

I think to anyone looking at me, my face was scrunched up in both amusement and deep horror.

I supposed that could have been worse.

The turrets began to break down again as it reached for more blueprints.

I was not the slightest impressed with the new 'Money Gun' turrets. A mix of the turrets and my tech from finance. It felt very 'elitism' to take crooks or intruders down with turrets shooting literal rolled up dollar bills or sacks of nickels.

'Sir, the rabble have broken in!'

'Oh must they? Very well, James, load up the loose change turrets. Tally ho!'.

I mentally snorted, trying hard not to grin.

I slipped the rental agreements under Tabitha and Laura's door, the girls having gone out for the day. I worried they'd be picked up for truancy, but I suspected they knew how to avoid being noticed if they wanted.

I decided to settle on $650 for the rent and if I needed to adjust it in the future, I'd talk to anyone living in the building first. Before that I decided to check out something that Spy Sandra, Custodian Sandra, and Security Sandra all insisted upon and I decided it was a good idea as well… even though I was dreading it.

I head to the alley behind the building, taking a long look up and down the narrow stretch. Discarded sofas, knocked over trash cans, dark shadows produced by the looming buildings, and more than a few shattered lights.

It was fine when it was sunny, but with the rain not long passed, leaving behind an overcast, it felt more than a little dangerous. To be slightly safe, I purchased a taser when I was out with Happy, the thing a weight in one hand. It wouldn't stop too much, but I felt like skipping about with my hands in my pocket and hoping for the best was asking a bit much of the universe.

There was a slight urge to open it up and see how it looked with my new science knowledge, but there was a risk I might be over my head and just break my new taser. I slowly moved over to the manhole cover and used my little noodle arms to shift the thing over, releasing trapped heated air into the sky above with a slight hiss.

Why did even the metal bars to climb down look slimy? I shuddered, but I knew I had to know what was under my building so to speak. I angled my flashlight down and climbed down, thankful I had work gloves to keep me from touching anything directly.

It was always a shock to know how big these tunnels were at the end of the day. I easily lowered myself into a thankfully 'dry' tunnel with about five feet between myself and the ceiling. I moved my light about, spooking some rats and old newspapers. Very aged graffiti still lingered like cave-man etches on the brick. I risked a slow sniff.

The good news was that I was sure this tunnel wasn't for sewage per say. It didn't smell nice, but I only retched a little. It was more very old garbage and wet stuff. It had to be more a maintenance tunnel to the main ones than the sewers themselves. I walked down, finding old pipes, hearing very distance noises. It sounded like a wheeze of an old beast.

Did the trains echo all the way here?

Or was it some ancient furnace living on in the dark?

I shook myself and moved on quickly, sticking to the wall, mentally keeping a map of which direction I was heading. Next time I came down here, I was getting a damn compass. I found a smaller off-tunnel and tested the metal door. It was locked.

I reached down into my bag, wincing at what I was about to do.

The second Metal Grater I had ever made looked almost identical down to the first, despite using different materials and graters. I never thought cheese graters would be so important in my life, but here I was. I marvelled at how quietly the metal near the frame just shredded off without a sound. I was perhaps too enthusiastic as I shaved off the handle itself and it fell to the ground, clattering on the concrete.

I hated the way it that sound seemed to travel on forever. I quickly stepped in and pushed the door as shut as it would go. That new skeleton key would be nice about now, but I needed some stuff that was a bit weird.

A brass key, as expected… and a low quality gem as a focusing lens? My key was apparently a lightsaber as well. It needed a few more pieces, but those were easy enough.

"Why am I down here? Why am I making devices to break and enter into a sewer…" I trailed off to look at the space beyond. I wanted to say it was a series of metal cages holding quiet metal devices that the closest I could guess was transformers or… engines? Their long wires vanished into the ceiling. I peered over the edge and saw I was on a walkway in a room. Below was more machines, but also a lot more doors.

"One sight of a scaly hand or batwing and I go home," I promised as I carefully edged on to the door to my right on the same level as I entered. That would roughly point me back towards where I came and under my street and building.

This door was locked too.

"Oops," I said as I managed to open it in a single swipe of the grater.

I should find it comforting that these doors were locked. The monsters didn't lock doors.

Right?

I stuck my head in, wincing at how it was so dark now that even having no charges, a faint blue light was radiating out from my eyes. I moved my flashlight about, noticing this was another tunnel, but it felt different.

Before? I was trespassing and now I was… intruding.

I shuffled down the tunnel, alert for traps or signs of danger. My heart was beating rapidly as I stuck to the wall that was opening up to a large space gradually. I could tell I was heading slightly downwards and the public pipes and wires seemed less apparent now.

My flashlight began to flicker.

"Oh, don't you fucking-" I warned before it flickered once and went dark before weakly turning back on.

"Energize batteries, my ass, my coffee powers better than these," I cursed. I was already turning around and heading towards the curving tunnel and back where I entered from. My flashlight turned off, leaving me alone in the dark except with a few inches of blue light that let me see my hands if I lifted them near my hand.

"Thank you, glowing eyes formed by a blackhole portal in my brain," I whispered. I moved forward slowly, pretty sure I was heading the right way. I only saw a few turns I could get lost down… but as long as I moved forward…

"Was this worth it? Security? Hm? Are we happy now?" I asked under my breath.

"Spy? Are you happy about this?" I added. The voices in my head were silent in their guilt.

' Coffee would never betray you,' Barista Sandra said, sipping said imaginary beverage as she watched this like I was some cool horror flick she just happened upon.

"If nothing happens, I will live quietly and just become a coffee goddess. I will enslave handsome men who have good values under my spell, and I won't go looking for trouble. I'll be nice… and quiet. I'll have the Green Goblin arrested and unmasked and declare myself the winner. Then fate leaves me alone and I just grow old… older… and be a landlady," I began to breathe in a calming exercise that Logic Sandra was coaching me through.

"My only goal in life is to break into Stark Tower and steal that Thor calendar. Everything else is I'll take as I go," I added as I moved forward, the tunnel getting narrower again. My foot suddenly didn't have solid ground under it. I snapped into pure reflex mode, using what little practise I had with my martial arts and fitness to tuck and roll as I tumbled a good 15 feet into darkness.

I didn't have to worry about my landing as it was broken by something soft… weirdly soft. My heart skipped and beat. Then I got a charge from the stress.

The tunnel ahead lit up like I broke a flare, washing everything out in blue light with the slightest hint of green mixed in.

The light was already pulling back, but I was too busy staring up at a snarling bear to really care.

I screamed. I was going to die, but why die crying? I swung my grater and cut the head off the thing in a single motion.

It rained… fluff down? It was a giant… stuffed… bear. I looked down and saw a very thick tiger rug had saved me from a bruised fall. I didn't spend my charge as the light coming from my eyes was a life-saver. I saw what looked like a switch near the ledge and ladder I had fallen down. I went over to it.

I was… having slight issues of thinking.

' You're having a slight panic attack. It's perfectly normal. The bear isn't real. The goblin isn't here,' Logic Sandra said soothingly, but the issue was it was like I was listening to myself trying to calm myself.

Sometimes it was fine… but sometimes you really needed someone else to help you snap back into reality. I flipped the switch.

"Please don't release the lions," I begged before a hum emanated deeper and lights began to flick on.

"My eyes!" I cried, sliding down the wall as I had looked up while flipping and got a full blast of the overhead floodlight.

"My eyes literally glow! Why can't they adjust better!" I demanded, maybe at the helpless Tiger rug who could not answer me back.

' Weird space energy does what it wants. Your eyes are an amazing device of many years of evolution. They're doing their best," Biologist Sandra barked. She was exactly like the woman I saw in the vision.

I slowly blinked away the stars to see that I had somehow fallen into stereotypical tribal Africa.

I felt like Alice in Wonderland, but my Wonderland might have cannibals or hyenas.

It was a circular space with far too many trophies sprung about the place, but it was old. Webs were strung up between mounted pigs and antelopes. Dust settled thick on a throne like chair made of tusks and leather.

I think looking at it alone had put hairs on my chest. There was a place for a central bonfire and a sideroom with a bed and a mixing table with some seal jars. Biologist Sandra could spot a few ingredients while Chemist Sandra hazarded a guess at the others. The odd table had a statue of some fearsome deity above it.

It was… a lion man? Maybe holding a spear. Finally, near the bed was what could only be called a 'hit list'. The paper was yellowing and a few had moldy spots on them, but most of it was legible.

It almost covered the entire wall and ceiling so it was the first thing you'd see when you awoke down here on the bed.

There was a nice corner for the Vulture, a few penned remakers of revenge. A decent chunk for Spider-Man, he was labeled 'if there's time'. But most of it?

It was for the Lizard. Lots of blurry images and sketches of a raggedy creature in a torn white coat or sometimes even less.

The owner had scrawled a few notes of gaps between appearance and map of the city with red circles and crossed off locations.

The weirdest was on a sketch, the person who lived here had crossed out the name Lizard and wrote instead. 'The closest I can come to hunting Sobek himself'.

"And it smells of dust, mouldy paper, and crazy," I summed up before I spotted something in the corner of my eye. It was one of the many flowy banners strung up around the place, but it had been torn slightly off its awning in a hurry, revealing a series of bricks removed and ladders that were definitely not city-standard. I looked up where they vanished into the darkness. I tested the ladder. It seemed solid enough…

"I mean… it goes up," I pointed out to myself, breaking the silence as my heart was slightly too loud for my tastes.

I began to climb, hitting another switch nearby to turn the lights off. I didn't want something to break and catch fire if I left them on.

I climbed slowly, letting my eyes light the way. I just pretended I was in some action flick. I even had Spy Sandra make up an epically suited song like they sang in those spy films. Each rung was a chance for the song to get more exciting.

"Through the sewers… in darkness and crap," I hummed, distracting myself. I whimpered slightly as I went through a spiderweb.

"Sorry Mr or Mrs Spider…" I wheezed before the ladder showed signs of finally stopping. I was in a small square room of mostly concrete. There was no lightbulb, but I didn't need it. Directly ahead was streetlight, but it was entering the space oddly. Sort of… jagged. I pushed on the wall and it took almost everything I had to make it move.

"Stupid… arm muscles. I'm working out… but come on," I grunted before the light began to grow. I saw the light was entering through a fake wall. A real legit fake wall.

I stared at a fenced off dead end alley, the wooden planks hanging askew ahead and weeds overgrowing, explaining why I was having trouble. Nature had been attempting to claim the space back.

I walked slowly out and looked behind me. The wall opened like a jigsaw piece, the mouth of an angry lion acting as the door. It was a lovely mural but so faded you'd only notice it close up.

"This is a lot of work when you could just rent a hotel room," I said to myself faintly. I clambered over the fence as the secret entrance closed itself after a moment, working on weights and hinges. I saw it swung the other way if I needed to get back in, but Spy Sandra had to admit along with Security Sandra, it was a well hidden entrance if nothing else.

It occurred to me then that I had explored only one of many… many possible tunnels or doors down there.

I slowly looked down the alley where I could see my building at the end, haunching like a giant in the overcast sky. A spider slowly clambered in front of my eyes from my hair.

I stood there and a second later I lit up the space as I got a second charge, the poor spider was scared so badly it fell off my head.

I needed… a shower.

And to spend these charges. I didn't think checking what was essentially my basement was going to be so… exciting. I kept my head down as I carefully selected my charges. After feeling so damn helpless down there and relying on my Grater and taser… I felt I was helpless without them. Knowing it wouldn't suddenly make me a master, I still put another charge into Krav Maga.

I inhaled as the knowledge came. It was weirdly not just about a series of techniques I need to master or repeat a dozen of times. There were tactics involved, it began to bring up ways to use it with knives or small items if need be. I learned the difference between killing someone and perhaps pinching enough oxygen to the brain to know a difference.

The knowledge came with spotting how someone was trained in the art or similar enough to know when I was outclassed. There were… ways people acted when their body was a weapon. There was more to it and I looked down at the way I was moving.

My mind knew but my body was clueless.

But even then, as I corrected myself, feeling the sheer awkwardness of it, there was a comfort in the fact I knew I would eventually get it was… reassuring.

I reached my building and slipped inside through the backdoor, noticing on a clock I had hung in the lobby as a general 'homey' gift to the tenants that I had been down in that sewer for nearly two hours.

I began to haul myself up the stairs and into my shower while letting my mind just become distracted by the charge I needed to spend.

I stilled for a moment, flashes of the goblin and then that bear, its head flying off hit me and I leaned on the tiles as the hot water washed grime and web out of my head. I… looked at my hand to see it was shaking slightly.

"Stop," I said. It kept shaking. I clenched it a few times.

"Enough," I ordered it and it began to make a strange clawing motion as if trying to grasp something.

I inhaled once… Logic Sandra knowing that she couldn't be my therapist. I couldn't both ask the questions and have the answers. I couldn't have a dialogue with myself. It just didn't work, but I tried something perhaps more unorthodox.

I focused back on my childhood, when I was in my bed. My parents hung that clock on my wall, the audible tick every second was soothing. As long as it ticked? I was safe. The clock would scare off the monsters and if it got real bad, the bird would come out and scare them.

Tick… I was safe.

Tock… I was safe.

Tick… my hand unclenched.

Tock… I stopped crying.

Tick Tock. I was safe.

I put my second charge into Clockwork. I needed new happier memories of cogs.

The star glowed and I-

"You just don't see these anymore," the man said with delight as he picked up the diorama of lumberjack sawing a tree. The turning key let the little figure chop away as a jaunty tune sounded out. Occasionally the lumberjack moved to sit down on a nearby stump. The amount of cogs for that much movement was complex, but I was proud of them.

"Cogs went the way of the dodo," I agreed sadly as I stared out at Nueva York. My store was pretty low down on the levels, but I could still see hundreds of flying cars shoot past over the polluted mist of the surface. I sold the work for a fair price before I stretched. My old bones and grey hair never bothered me, but they sure liked to make me work somedays. I flicked on a nearby holoscreen to read how Nico was getting on in L.A.

I smiled as he managed to get the twins into an animated picture. It was a happy family picture of Nico, his lovely wife, and their four kids. Heaven helped them. I stopped at two.

I checked an email to see Emma was scheduling time off as president of Alchemax to spend the holidays with me. I had little doubt her security team would follow her and all those dizzying large complex machines.

Maybe she'd bring that lovely assistant with her. Olive? Olena? Something like that. The woman was so funny and reminded me of myself when I learned new things.

I went to the back of the store, closing the door. I took off a small cog around my neck and slotted it into the wall where it slowly slid into the mural of a grand scheme of gears. They began to turn, lowering the entire room into the depths below where I kept my lab.

I was due another charge soon, but I was in no hurry. Beyond the odd curiosity soon… I didn't really need too much these days. It felt like just yesterday I had gotten this gift.

I think what I regretted the most that it took several charges of parenting to finally earn back Nico and Emma's trust. To understand why they walked away from me when they could. The visions of that Sandra… the one who seemed to have so little, but needed nothing. Her kids truly loved her.

I was an alcoholic who was absorbed in my self pity after Jack had died. It was a dark time, but not these days. These days I picked myself up by the bootstraps and got to work.

I slowly emerged into a massive warehouse like structure which I separated by 'area' of interests. Chemistry by the side, physics to the right… I hadn't done much since I collided with some things I shouldn't have. Biology section had burned down ages ago when some of the research got hungry and it had to be burned.

With vengeance.

Biologist Sandra was shaking her head.

' It would have been fine, but Klyntar DNA got wobbly when we looked too deeply,' she complained.

' Messing with those was insane. What if it escaped? What if it hurt someone?!' Parenting Sandra shook her head, looking two shakes away from glaring at me.

I sometimes had to remember between a battle of a therapist and persuasion Sandra… Parenting Sandra kicked their ass and absorbed them.

"Yes, but imagine if there were sane and wanted love?" I said and I could literally feel Parenting Sandra wilt and weaken. She was strong, but she was predictable.

' Sample 'Carnage' was a bit too violent. We'll try Scream next time,' Biologist Sandra said a bit too eagerly.

I pushed them aside. The project to restore sanity to the venom suit was slow going. So far it remained as the loyal hound at Emma's side, but it was one the most stable symbiotes… I still prefer to help work out where its issues with rage came from.

I owed it for protecting Emma as a loyal guardian. Nothing quite deterred assassins like a dog exploding with teeth and tentacles.

I slowly walked to the center of my lab where I always came before anywhere else.

"How are you feeling, Norman?" I asked softly.

The man looked up, the newspaper he held jostled.

"Sandra! I was wondering when you'd come down here. Good day at the store?" he asked easily. He sat up in his armchair. His own hair was as vibrant as it was forty years ago. His room was circular with what was about half-mile of gears turning and spinning into a cavern below his space.

Norman looked relaxed.

"Money is never an issue with Emma owning most of the world," I said dryly.

"Please tell me she isn't producing unicorns. I may be 'dead' but my reputation is still a thing since I started that company," he had the audacity to whine at me. I rolled my eyes as I moved to sit down in an armchair like his own.

I didn't need a barrier nor protection. Norman could no more leave his space than I could enter it. The Clockwork Spire was my greatest and, perhaps, worst invention.

Norman Osborn was trapped in a round sphere of spinning time, controlled and distorted by the massive machine stretching below us. Somedays I came down to find him the same day he was trapped, screaming at me… sometimes he was an old man who looked at me with clear affections.

I never knew what Norman I was going to get each day.

It sustained Norman as it trapped him. I looked at him and asked the same question I always did.

"Do you want to end this Norman?" I asked kindly. He shook his head.

"No, my dear. I told you, or I will," he amended as he smiled at the time jargon, "I experience each moment here with perfect sanity and for you I may be jumping back and forth, but to me? You're the one rapidly aging and getting younger. Somedays… you're so angry and guilty… some days you're this charming grandmother," he teased.

"We're two ships passing the same ocean, but I'm at dawn and you at dusk," I said. Norman nodded slowly.

"Wise words," he allowed. They should be… he was the one who told me them when he was older.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked, feeling very relaxed. Norman shook his head as gestured to the computer with a slowly updating internet. He had dozens of tabs open and dozens of books downloaded. Near it was a VR helmet for scenery.

"I don't eat my dear and sleep is a hobby. Are you feeling well?" he asked, concerned and I waved him off.

"I have that feeling," I said and Norman looked unsure so I supposed I hadn't told him yet. How novel. It was getting more common, but it still pickled me as I got older, it became my turn to explain things to Norman.

How things have changed.

"If I'm quiet enough… I can just almost tell when it's my turn to be watched. By another Sandra… maybe more than a few, but it's been so long…" I paused as I searched my army of Sandras. I could feel… her.

Hello dear… welcome to my life.

"It's a trick I picked up when I was connected to so many Sandras. But most of them only show up when you entered the machine," I said and Norman raised a brow.

"I did what?" he said, tone amused. He was still an arrogant bastard…

"When I threw you in this machine. It was then I was most watched. It's rarer to get a Sandra this late," I admitted.

"Who wants to watch an old lady at the end of her life talking to a time ghost?" Norman asked and I shrugged.

"I don't question the others. We're all Sandra, we all have our shit to get through. I just hope it's helpful to this one in particular," I said, feeling the automated heating keeping me warm.

"Are you going to-" he asked and I raised a hand.

"Hush Norman. Do that and it cuts the connection. We aren't told because that's the balancing act. We get tools to arm ourselves, minds to think and the soul to reach out. We aren't allowed to know the reality of our enemies," I reminded Norman or just informed… it got hard to know with two out-of-synch times.

"If she's half as good as you, the clues are all there," Norman huffed, picking his newspaper up.

"If she isn't? She will be soon. That's just how us AeKures roll," I said, grinning as I closed my eyes. I would just take a nap.

Emma and Nico were coming.

I wonder if I should brush off my cooking charges? At that moment, I got a charge and it funneled into the machine Norman was in, fueling it.

One for me… one for him.

Balanced… as it should be.

I yelped as I came back to find the shower was freezing cold. I tripped out the shower, bringing the shower curtain down with me as I landed on the bathmat.

I was… oddly relaxed.

I stared for some time at the ceiling.

"She stuck Norman Osborn in a giant time dilation prison. Holy shit…" I breathed out.

Then something more disturbing occurred to me.

"We were friends!" I almost said with disgust. There was too much to digest and I needed to get dressed.

Tick Tock… my hand's didn't shake. Go figure.

22: Softieware? Rats...

Having spent a night tossing and turning from my vision of Clockwork Sandra and staring up at an alien ceiling in the new apartment, I barely slept as I heard Nico and Emma slowly fall asleep in their new rooms.

I couldn't quite ignore what I had seen or the conclusions I had drawn from my recent vision. So, I decided to pull myself out of my own thoughts and get some advice from the most honest source there ever could be.

Young children when they weren't in trouble. Something about social cues and not yet tainted by sarcasm or hormones made them brutally honest.

So, in the morning, I looked up innocently at my child.

"Emma," I began slowly as she shifted awkwardly in the kitchenette area of the open space, spooning cheerios into her mouth.

She looked at me, cheeks bulging and a milk mustache on her lips.

"If you learned somehow that the person sending you horrible texts or ruining your stuff during recess turned out to be that really popular girl everyone respected and was well-off so the teachers didn't want to upset her parents by punishing her… what would you do?" I asked, hands pushed together before I pointed at her.

"Is mutual destruction and burning down the school an option?" she asked, weighing her options up as she thought about it.

"No," I said flatly. I had to double check those weird cartoons she was watching, she was clearly getting these ideas from somewhere.

Emma shrugged.

"Play her game, but do it better. If this 'girl' thinks she can get away with it, you got to hit back in a way she can't admit anything without also being in trouble," she said in a 'duh' tone.

I pursed my lips before I spoke.

"Promise me you won't get married until you're 30 and/or rule the world with an iron fist," I requested. Emma slowly spooned another mouthful of her cereal.

"I make no such promises, but I'll do my best," she said before hugging me as Nico finally emerged, grumpy and trying to make the sun explode with his mind alone.

'You know her flair for dramatics is a coping mechanism for your potential broken marriage and lack of father figure, right? Acting more mature and planning ahead to avoid hurting you or to never run into the issue of being abandoned again, right?' Logic Sandra asked. I wanted strongly to reach into my own eye socket and strangle her somewhat.

One, Logic Sandra had no proof of that other than her incessant need to psycho-analyze everyone and everything. Two, Emma's home was just burned down and I was attacked. Emma is likely going to be worried and acting strange for a while yet. Three, dragging her into therapy before I can talk to her or see if Emma has time to adjust and be a healthy adult on her own terms is as bad as letting her grow up with issues.

' And if she rules the world?' Logic asked, calmly enough in that annoying 'I'm here to help you' tone.

"Then my taxes and healthcare bills are going to be really affordable," I said firmly.

Still, Emma had let me think about my issue.

How I was going to handle Norman Osborn and the fact I was 90% sure he was the Green Goblin. The timing fit, I made him look bad at the school in front of a bunch of teens and soon I was getting attacked.

But, I had to admit, there was a chance that it was Tony's selfie that also prompted it. What little I could learn from Nico or Natasha when I was resting wasn't promising. The Green Goblin was more loopy than a Hot Wheels race track.

Between his sprodiac vanishing periods. He was labelled as a terrorist by authorities. His M.O tended to be cases of destruction and wide-scale fights with Spider-Man and a few others. Standing up, I got ready to head out.

What I lacked was information and since my powers didn't allow me to select people or facts that weren't related to education or learnable skills, I couldn't put a charge into 'Green Goblin' or 'Norman Osborn' or even 'Oscorp'. Nothing happened.

I had a theory that it was because physics, biology… coffee, and more? They existed in one form or another in every other dimension. They were constants. There may be a few odd dimensions with no physics or coffee, but most of them were solid.

Most worlds with people had a simple formula; '11 = 2'.

Some dimensions took this to extreme weirdness like '1 by the power of atoms 1 with the power of ghosts = 2' but the idea was there. Norman Osborn, even if he was present in every dimension?

He was not the same Norman Osborn.

One Norman may be some lunatic living in the gutters, another may be a legitimate saint in some country. Others may be businessmen, but never founded Oscorp. This Mind stone thing, it couldn't get that information because it didn't have the power or the ability to make me store 10,000 different versions of Norman Osborn, let alone 100,000 or millions.

But as Engineer Sandra pointed out? For every limitation, there was an opportunity to adapt the design.

I headed down the stairs, mentally counting what I had left of my settlement. I should have enough to get a laptop. The old building had internet services and a provider thankfully, so I didn't need to wait for '7-50 working days' for someone to turn up and flip a switch.

As I got on the bus, I got my morning charge as I headed to a decent electronics store I was sure to have what I needed. If I got a real banger, I could always make it better when I got mad enough with its loading speed.

As I waited, I decided to put the charge into clockwork once more. I didn't want to exactly become a carbon copy of that Sandra but something she did was quite interesting. She put a charge into the machine somehow, it was powerful enough to make a time device function, so I might as well see what the basic tech of the field would get me.

I closed my eyes for a moment as the knowledge came to me. I learned quite a bit about keys, a popular method for starting clockwork technology. Security liked them enough it began to synergise with how to use clockwork as ways to secure things or spring traps. This went on until Mechanical Engineer ended up fusing with the knowledge to become Tinkerer Sandra. A creation of the knowledge involving simple parts for complex designs and complex parts for simple ideas.

I slowly let the knowledge settle with mainsprings and torques.

The tech came next, filling slowly. The first was a strange little doll. It was featureless and had a single large turn key at the back. Once cranked to full power, it would wander about in a limited manner for about an hour. The interesting thing was it was reactive to stimulus, but all it did was walk towards the noise.

It had terrible range, anything beyond five feet just didn't exist.

The plan immediately began to synergise with another.

I watched in some horrified fashion as the doll and the turrets mixed, becoming turrets that patrolled, reacting to sound or faint sights via a camera optic. It could even be programmed to speak with pre-set recordings. They had a slight hiccup of being only able to remember 'one' person as friendly at a time.

I guess I could fix that with more parts and programming if I wanted…

The second Clockwork tech blueprint I got was something more manageable thankfully. A sort of handheld grapple gun that had some intense innards of pull and whirling. If I could figure out a way to stop it ripping out my shoulder from its socket, it might be able to pull me to ledges or something.

That issue was solved when a previous blueprint kicked in to support it. The Detective tech had a protective coat weave that if the hook was worked into the coat sleeve instead of my arm, it would work as long as I didn't lose my coat or lose too much weight.

I did have to admit afterwards…

This bus would be a lot cuter with some whistling and chirping pistons and steam blowers…

"I think you got ripped off," Tabitha said slowly. I looked between her and the machine sitting on my table.

"It's not that bad," I said sourly as I opened the lid and hit the power button. There was a sound like a jet engine going off and Laura crouched down low in her corner, lips pulled back in snarl as the sounds of what might be Sisyphus pushing a big boulder up a hill began to emanate from the laptop as it powered on.

"I haggled it down to a $100," I said easily.

"Should have gone for $40," Tabitha said, her legs crossing, one sandal dangling off her painted toe.

The thing was like one of those cool briefcase laptops people used to carry around. The edges were thick enough I could bash Norman's head in and only worry about the blood.

"Hey Laura, I think this is made of the same stuff they put on your old man's bones," Tabitha said, smirking at Laura who was in a large dull sweater today and leather pants. Her style was interesting.

Laura stared at the laptop before she got up.

"It's giving me a headache. I'm going to hunt the rats in the wall. They kept me up last night," she said bluntly and left the apartment. Tabitha stood up abruptly.

"Laura, don't you dare restart the Rat rescue farm again. I am not living with 20 of those rodents inches from my head like last time!" the blond girl yelled and stormed after Laura. I stared as my front door slammed shut and I made a mental note to buy Laura a personal pot of plaster so she could patch any walls she broke in her 'rescue' attempts.

I looked down at the laptop, awkwardly using my finger on the touchpad to test it. I moved left and the cursor went up. I swiped down and it went up as well. I did a weird flick to the upper left and managed to get it to go roughly to where I wanted it to go. I inhaled once and managed to click on the bottom corner where it was telling there were important updates since I connected to the internet finally.

' There are 308 mandatory updates for this machine. Updates will take 3 days and 2 hours! A brighter future brought to you by Howard Stark!'.

I got up, deciding my urge not to ask more of Tony Stark than he already supplied was wearing thin. I picked up my landline.

I called the tower and asked Jarvis if he was available. There was a moment and I was patched through.

" Stick-it-gal! How-"

"Your father's operating system is wanting over 300 updates for its stupid software. I don't want to wait 3 days just to surf the internet. Is there a hotkey or something to skip these updates? I can get by on basic functions," I said clearly and waited.

" My Dad- Uh, my Dad's OS was made defunct about- well years ago. It's got hardware breaking bugs and the last 100 updates were basically spyware. How did you get a laptop still able to run it?" he asked.

"I got it for 100 dollars downtown out of a sidestreet," I said honestly. Tony was quiet for a moment.

" The reason I patched you through is that I had some limited success recreating a sample of your Flex Tape. It's not as potent and it does burn… but I'm in a meeting with my shareholders about setting up a production line of the stuff and was hoping to introduce you all… smoothly," Tony said and I noticed his voice was slightly echoing as if he was in a large room.

I waited for a moment for him to say he was joking.

"Am I on speakerphone?" I asked slowly.

" Hi, Sandra," I heard Pepper called from slightly on my left side.

" You're on the central speaker device of the table and just asked for a button to skip 20 years worth of updates and expect it to still work," Tony said, sounding highly entertained as if the meeting had been boring beforehand.

"Yeah, well at least I didn't try to stick my hand in acid to dissolve Flex Tape he stuck on himself because it was 'spicy'," I said succinctly.

" I'll invest in her for that comment alone," came a more muffled voice that I didn't know.

"Tony, I'll figure it out. I'll make it work," I said before he could hit back at me about building buzz saws or licking screwdrivers. I hung up.

Marketing some form of Flex Tape? I had no idea how much that was worth so even if Tony only sent me 100 a month or something, that was neat. I had enough Mechanical Engineering that I could do the most basic of stuff. Take it apart and reassemble it once I cleaned each component.

And if I got working and learned how to 'siphon' the internet downwards? I could have the internet and sit on that throne like some cool Sewer Rich guy coming back from Africa with his freshly poached prey.

It'd let me feel slimy without actually doing the deed myself!

I stretched, my back aching like I'd been at a desk for 8 hours. I slowly put the dirty napkins and dust bunnies into the garbage can. The inside of that laptop was a biological terrorist's wet dream. A few wires were fraying and I think some grit that used to be glue was flaking away on important parts that shouldn't be moving.

I still had my jar of Flex Paint I made at Tony's so I just slapped some of that in there and it worked beautifully. There was a knock at the door and I spun, my hand reaching out in case the owner of the Sewer Throne had tracked me down. I reached for something and came away with a wooden spoon.

Warrior Sandra and Spy Sandra both pointed out the big sharp knives I had and I made a compromise with them and took a potato peeler. I peered out the peephole to see a delivery guy. I opened the door and he handed me the package with a smile.

"Fee's been paid," he said and left. Closing the door, I ripped open the package to see a slim smartphone slide out and a note.

" You're going to keep the laptop, that's fine. But this is the quickest hotkey I could find. Don't worry, it'll come out of the first paycheck you earn from Flex Tape and the model is almost three years out of dates. It's practically ancient. That should sooth your thrifter instincts.

T.S

That was nice of him.

I turned it on after charging it.

The display picture was of a slightly angled shot of Nico and Emma. I remembered that hallway and judging by the origin of the shot, it was taken by Jarvis.

This was… really nice of Tony to do this.

I tapped the screen and a passcode turned on. It was a question based one over a number.

"Tony Stark is so…" I read before staring at the four boxes for me to enter letters. I gritted my teeth and tapped out, saying each letter as I did so.

"D… e… a… d!" I hit enter. I got an error., sighing. I tried 'sexy' or 'cool'. Those were busts as well. I stared trying to think what the mind of Tony Stark would put.

Security and Agent perked up and I was running through possible words until Security remembered another possibility.

I tried a few possibilities until I typed 'Tony Stark is so-ftie' and the phone unlocked.

"That isn't even grammatically correct!" I complained until I noticed he made me spend 20 minutes on that…

The phone was the most advanced thing I ever owned that I didn't build myself. Well, one time I owned the Cape of Mercury, but that was more 'most cursed' but regardless of that. I spent minutes moving through the screens and I got lost playing some game that was about jumping over hurdles and dodging trains.

But eventually, I found the Internet!

God… did I find the Internet.

There was a lot of information on the Green Goblin. So much that I was beginning to suspect I would have to shift through a lot of false leads simply to find one nugget of truth. One claimed the Green Goblin flew on a phallic broom stick. Another jokingly posted the Green Goblin used Sparkle Rays.

The Green Goblin was dead. The Green Goblin was actually a mantle passed on. There were three Green Goblins. There was one Green Goblin who cloned himself three times.

The strange thing was that beyond creepy fanclubs or official new sites, there was no real source of listed facts as if any attempted to set one up met with a brutal take down or had issues. The best thing I was able to find was 'New York Capes'. It was a more lowkey site, but kept things backed up and didn't let members or even some staff members edit the information.

It could be that I wasn't looking in the right place or unlike me, most people? They didn't want to know about the Goblin. I honestly didn't know.

Spider-Man had well documented sites and even a Twitter of all things.

The latest news was reporting on the Goblin versus 'Unhinged Blade-firing Woman'. My face was impossible to make out, but it wouldn't be hard to figure out who it was if they simply asked whose apartment the Green Goblin bombed.

The NY Cape site had a list of active people out of incarnation that were known to work in the city or surrounding areas. That list would be proved useful as it was updated by the hour. I shifted into joining up and digging into what they had.

It was a little more understandable why the Green Goblin wasn't so easily unmasked as I read. Two Green Goblin's had been 'caught' and unmasked. Both were dead. One had an uncanny resemblance to Norman, but it was passing and a double looking dispelled the illusion. The other was some guy who hated Oscorp and suspected of leaving 'clues' that pointed to Oscorp in an attempt to frame the company for the Green Goblin's existence.

What pictures and footage there was showed their 'outfits' and gliders were… subpar compared to the one I faced. My Buzz Saw would have cleaved through these gliders with a lot more ease.

"Known strengths included strength, durability, and ability to heal from life-dangering wounds rapidly. Once was shown to be impaled by his glider and reappear the next day… unknown if double or same Goblin," I read slowly. I was a little glad the Goblin decided to 'play' with me and not simply hop off his glider and grab me.

I did one more search. My mysterious man-cave could either belong to Kraven the Hunter, Ka-Zar who was known to visit New York with his… Sabertooth tiger? Okay, that was a statement.

The only other option made me skin prickle with slight goosebumps. Limited information of a practising magic-user (there was a big link next to this with the words 'Magic or super science energy, read here and don't debate) called Calypso. She had a big list of murders she was either directly involved with or suspected of.

Photos of some of her 'lairs' usually depicted penthouses or large suites. I didn't think she'd be a sewer gal, but she had to be clever to survive so long with a target on her head. The woman worked with Kraven and had 'powers'.

The vagueness of that was slightly worrying.

I got another charge as I saw it was approaching the afternoon. Still a few hours before the kids were home. I had a computer to tackle, an apartment building still kind of grimy, and more information to gather. If I was going to go after Norman, I couldn't do it directly. The best defence was simply not being a target in the first place.

As soon as I had proof? I'd point Steve or Natasha at him.

I put the charge into computers and whistled at how broad the subject was. I shot past the beginning levels of the stuff. I knew what the ports were called, how I could bypass my touchpad issue with a mouse, but Tony was right as was Tabitha, my laptop was a junker, but I noticed now that it wasn't wiped. As I learned about basic shortcuts that I was thankful for, I began to pull up what I could.

Each OS ran differently, but they all spoke the rough same rough way. If I found the correct buttons or right prompts…

Soon, I had the screen spitting out some basic numbers, but I couldn't do much until I made it disconnect from my landline, it was far too old for Wi-fi, but once it was disconnected, the need to update it vanished.

With my phone, I wasn't missing much.

I wasn't going to be rewriting the system just yet, but I could start seeing that I had a lot of interesting things about this laptop. One, there was a lot of encryption, it was a real bummer. Without a key, even Security couldn't just bust the folders open.

It would be a fun little project to work on as I got better. I downloaded all the files on to my phone and looked around, finding not much else before I wiped the thing and using my phone, installed the most recently updated OS I could.

The Howard Stark OS still functioned in 2004, but roughly went obsolete after that. I would have gone for a new OS, but until I could see if junker could handle the HS OS, there was no need to attempt the new Stark Os, that Tony had been putting out through his company.

But it seemed if there was one thing Howard Stark did, it was build things that lasted. The laptop booted up a little better now it was cleaned and seemed to have regulations on the fan now. I didn't think it could be done through coding alone but there you go.

Then remembering Tony's warnings about the spyware, I went on a purge.

It was a bloody war of code and admin access prompts.

"I own you!" I snarled as it asked for the umpteetive time ten minutes later to get admin permission before offering me a button to do just that.

But there was no 'remember this option' box.

It was hell.

Laura let the man slump to the ground. She snarled as her skin slowly pushed the bullet out of her forehead. She looked down and sighed as he stared up at her with glassy eyes. Tabitha emerged from behind the dumpster a moment later.

"Purifiers? Mutant hunters? Same people that took Tatiana?" she asked quietly as the dark alley around them seemed to press down on them. Laura searched his pockets, but he carried no phone.

He was too well dressed, too well trained… to be homeless. Laura sniffed, trying to move past the scent of blood. She smelled something and searched his hip where she found a syringe kit and a dosage for one person.

"Wasn't looking at our window," Laura looked up at the top floor where the only lights came from Sandra's apartment. Laura could smell she was cooking some sort of sauce and pasta meal. It smelled good, not cut with cheap and easy pre-made sauces.

Tabitha gingerly picked up the gun with the silencer with her scarf.

"Shit, we just moved in. We can't lose our landlady in less than a week," she complained. Laura dragged him into the shadows, heading for the manhole. She thought she smelled Sandra out in the back, but the rain was coming down now and the rain washed everything downstream.

"Do we have to? Can we just leave him in the street and let him be found?" Tabitha asked, face pinched as she pulled her jacket tighter around her small top.

"No. Discovery means the people in charge of the man know he failed and will send more next time. Also police asking questions. Neighbours will assume Sandra is trouble and shun her. Making him vanish causes doubt on all sides," Laura said flatly.

"Can I keep the gun?" Tabitha asked suddenly, turning the thing over with an interested eye. Laura reached over and removed the silencer before handing it back.

"Now you can," she grunted. Laura watched Tabitha make a face before she tossed the gun down the manhole.

"Lame, if it's just a gun then I don't want it. The silencer made it cool," Tabitha said, turning away. She was trying to be bratty, but the sight of the blood and dead body was upsetting her. Laura would clean up faster.

She hefted the man into the manhole as well. She would clean the body out tomorrow. Going into the sewers when a storm was approaching was trouble. If the body didn't vanish of its own accord in the rain, Laura would make it vanish later.

As the rain picked up, the cooling body was roamed over by rats before they scattered as the water rose from the heavy downpour.

The body was carried down to the waterfront, eventually snagging on an ancient grate designed to catch large objects, after a moment the body slipped further down and out of the coat. On the inside of the arm, surrounded by rat bites, was a skull with many limbs spreading out.

Then the mark and its owner were gone into the belly of New York and its many parasites, eager for a fresh meal.

23: Therapy... Dinner Plans!

New York had an average of about 218 hospitals in its boroughs. Most agree that is woefully unprepared for the sheer number of people still living in New York post-invasion. The number of non-private and available professional therapists was about 1/20th of that in numbers, resources, and availability.

So, after a night of tossing and being chased down a dark tunnel by a cackling set of yellow eyes set on skinning me alive with my own buzzsaw, I had to admit I needed help before things got worse and bit the bullet to pay for three sessions of a private doctor.

It wasn't too bad as I got another apartment unit filled in my building after an hour of posting an ad online. A nervous couple who had to downgrade when the woman lost her job and her partner was still studying. They were happy to pay the first month's rent up front and were relieved when their front door locked.

I actually felt really bad for what they expected of my place. A shared building bathroom? Rats hustling them for cash in the hall? Dead bodies in the nearby tunnel system?

I mean, sure I had a Mutant ex-assassin a few floors up and a secret dusty lair below… but it was really normal otherwise.

I had owned this building less than a week properly… I guess that wasn't a good sign.

"Your life, as you knew it, has been forcibly changed beyond your control in just over two weeks. You don't feel that might have had an impact on your mental health?" Doctor Sidney asked. She was a woman close in age to myself, but where I had the relaxing appearance of a woman who worked hard, she had the smooth beauty of a scholar who had tackled her purpose with poise and grace.

I was a little let down that I wasn't lying down on a neat sofa, but instead there was a coffee table between us as I sat on a corner chair, a box of tissues strategically placed between us. Doctor Sidney's office had plenty of chairs, and I felt it was some psych test to see which her patients used.

Closer meant trusting,but far away showed issues of trust.

"Well… I suppose it was more the nearly dying part that's upsetting me than the rest of it," I admitted. She brushed back her dark hair and looked at me over her thin glasses.

' True, other than that, you're mostly stable,' Logic Sandra pointed out.

' She did act as a getaway driver for two Mutants and a spy,' Spy Sandra pointed out.

' She weaponized coffee,' Barista added, appalled.

' I said 'mostly', you insufferable bunch of neurosis,' Logic said, irritated. I silently hushed my inner crazy voices so I could convince the nice doctor lady I wasn't crazy.

"But, as tragic as being attacked was, you've not actually mentioned how losing your job, your home, having your children endangered, or being forced into a new home has affected you," she pointed out, making a note on her pad.

"I have a new home, my job sucked if they could just cut me, and my kids were made safe by my choice to leave the car," I countered.

"And how would your death affect them?" Sidney asked calmly.

I blinked at her.

"I don't follow," I said bluntly.

"Your brush with the criminal, being forced to defend yourself or even the fact you were targeted is something you've said in our briefing was your own fault. You taunted the criminal somehow, you chose to leave the safe vehicle, and your words indicate you're more troubled by the fact you might have died than the fact you put yourself in that position," she pointed out. I wondered if I could push her down the stairs? It worked for Logic back when she was Therapy Sandra.

"Sandra, you seemed to be taking on responsibility for actions you cannot control and feel the need to compensate for others. Do you honestly feel like you have any control over the Green Goblin's unhealthy mental state of being a costumed terrorist?" Sidney asked, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Of course not, but… I-" I cut myself off as Sandra-Prime's actions flashed across my mind. That nagging doubt that me and the Goblin were now entwined to battle until one remained rose up.

"You are not responsible for someone else's choice to inflict harm upon you. However, given your action in response… I wonder if you've heard of the 'Lee Effect'?" she asked suddenly, capping her pen.

Shaking my head in no, Sidney leaned back in her chair.

"When someone with power causes unbalance without any show of bending to the law of the land… a rival and equal power will eventually rise to match them. It was originally pointed to when talking about tyrants or criminal gang lords, but in the recent years, it's become more common with what we call 'Inhumans' or 'Masks'," she began and I wondered where she was going with this.

"When a Mask causes pain and runs amok, they will eventually create their enemy, a hero or another villain. Something about seeing another person in a mask or juggling cars causes a psychological need in people to equalize the gap between them and their tormentor," she said and I guess that made… a sort of sense.

"When you left the car, to find a weapon to fight back… what was driving you?" she asked and the question made me go quiet as I didn't have an answer right away.

"I had to get him away from my kids. If I could pull him away and distract him. I could buy time for help to arrive," I said finally.

"But you could have kept running and hiding. You fought, be it for a noble cause, you attempted to fight back, why?" she pressed more. I suddenly wanted to leave the space. I wanted to pull back and shut myself off as the question made me uncomfortable.

' Then it's important you answer it even more then,' Logic Sandra whispered.

"I was angry. I could hurt the Goblin and no one was going to care. I blamed him for my life going sideways. My ex caused trouble and I didn't unpack that. I didn't deal with the fact my life just went up in flames. I felt like the Green Goblin was deliberately sent into my path for me to deal with because somewhere in this fucked up universe, someone made that unavoidable," I said through clenched teeth. Sidney listened then it was she who pulled back.

"Sandra, do you know why I'm being rather heavy handed in our first session?" she asked and I shook my head to say no, needing a moment to catch my breath.

"You aren't here to find out why you're having nightmares or why the thought of being outside with open air might terrify you. You see these sessions as an extravagance you won't afford past a few sessions, maybe only three. We cannot progress in a smooth and proper manner in three sessions," she pointed out and she was right on both accounts.

I hadn't planned beyond maybe four sessions.

"I'm trying to make this impactful simply because if I don't stress the importance of treating you seriously, you won't see your mental health as important. In two weeks, you have endured three, that I know of, massive life changes and you've dealt with them by having more minor but as impactful life changes," she said, eyes concerned.

"You're the type of person who puts almost everyone else first. It is not a bad trait by any means, but until I prove to you that these sessions are of vital importance in the long run, three sessions of a normal treatment runs a risk of downplaying things to the point you may not even last three sessions. You already made a comment earlier to the degree of if you're not suffering a mental breakdown, it's not an issue. If I hadn't insisted on it, you would have skipped our briefing and just begun the first session," she went on.

"If we're going to talk about my issues anyway, having a pre-battle meeting seems a little inane," I admitted.

After a moment, she leaned forward.

"Would you like me to recommend a few names? They are cheaper options if money is a factor holding you back?" she offered suddenly.

"No, your rates are fine. It's just…" I waved my hand to the fancy office as if gesturing to the issue.

"I feel like I'm making a big deal of things when maybe I just need time to deal and move on," I said after a moment, my excuse feeling a bit lame.

"Your experiences are not lesser simply because you need to discuss them," Sidney promised and she seemed earnestly sincere about that. After a moment, she put her fingers together and seemed to think of something.

"I have a proposal, if you're interested?" she asked and I raised an eyebrow, but waited for her to go on.

"Some of my time is dedicated to a social group of people who range from acute depression, addiction recovery, and simple loneliness. It's a majority gardening group, I usually run in small community parks or gardens. If you aid me in opening it early and perhaps simply helping out, I'll have my co-worker, Doctor Haskell, take over as your therapist for a massively reduced charge. If we work together even loosely, it could compromise our ability to communicate," she explained.

"You want me to work for my mental health treatment?" I summed up, more amused by her thought process than insulted.

"Stability and community are healthy things to have in a daily routine," Sidney added.

Spy Sandra and Detective Sandra needed more.

"Why? You can't honestly offer this to every client who looks ready to bail," I said and leaned forward to match her posture. Sidney noticed the small act of psych 101, smiling a little.

"I don't, you're right on that, but believe it not. If I wanted to be a doctor earning money without getting emotionally involved in people, I'd be a heart surgeon. I don't stop caring or being concerned because your purse has nothing but mothballs in it," she said easily.

"Are all therapists as generous as you?" I asked dryly, letting Spy Sandra slip out a tad.

"No, in general, there are three types that I know of. Genuine providers of health. Narcissistic psychopathic controllers, and the ones who hope to land a celebrity on their couch," she said and stood up.

"Our time is up for this week. If you wish to continue to see me. I'll see you next week, if not? We meet on Sunday at Farah Park off Clarks," she held a hand out.

'All the better to analyze you and find out if you're real or a psycho,' Logic Sandra purred as she leaned back, feeling challenged. I smiled and took the hand.

Still, even as I left the building… I had to admit something.

I was really angry at Norman if he was the Green Goblin. I was actually… extremely angry. I was just so busy that I hadn't time to admit that to myself.

If he wasn't? Norman was still a massive asshole who could afford to lose a few million dollars.

I got on the bus, feeling two charges in my gut. I think my emotional outburst in the office had hastened the second charge. So now, I had two to spend.

Sidney may be a bit strongly opinionated about my lack of commitment to my mental health, but I could do it. If Therapy was a bit useless on myself, perhaps something more spiritual?

I got Meditation on the brain and put a charge into it.

I let the idea of it wash over me, getting what was essentially a crash course into the concept of 'self'. It was a bit of a brain teaser since what I 'thought' wasn't me. If I heard my thoughts, I was witnessing them.

But who was listening to the thoughts I was thinking? Who was the self behind my Sandras and power? Who was the being beneath my surface whims and brain-words.

' Sounds weird,' Barista admitted. I waited for the Sandra of Meditation to appear, but she was ethereal. She didn't exist because in the end… she was present. She did not exist in the past or the future. She was self.

She was the witness.

It was amusing for a time to witness my thoughts. To be present and experience things without giving my inner dialogue a chance to dictate what everything was. I was terrible at it, having only a few minutes practise. If reading the Buddha's scripture on self didn't make enlightenment happen, I doubt my power would either.

I moved on to the second charge, taking a deep breath. These ones were always intense. I decided on a particular skill that I had been curious about. I turned the charge into coffee, making it attain a fourth level.

Then I saw.

I saw it.

"You're hovering," I teased. The man at my side shifted awkwardly, flustering as he struggled to explain. I turned to him, my full lips thick with lipstick as I smiled up from the microscope.

"Abraham, I'm joking," I assured the man. He adjusted his glasses, grey hair from a dark past making him come off more harmless than he might actually be.

"Doctor AeKure, I simply must admit that your skills with biochemistry are astounding. It's more art than science," he admitted. His praise was high, considering he was such a renowned scientist in his own right that America spent a fortune on smuggling him out of Nazi-controlled lands.

How could I honestly compare to his brilliance when I simply… woke up each day and got smarter? It wasn't fair and it's why I would always hold Doctor Erskine in higher regard than myself.

"Not really. Biochemistry is a passing hobby of mine. A natural byproduct of my actual passion," I admitted as we turned to the large room where computers and generators all linked up to Stark's 'Vita-chamber'. Some machine that sounded more magic than reality.

Vita-waves, it would be hogwash to me if I didn't put a charge in to see if Howard Stark was being actually honest or stringing Doctor Erskine along with false hope.

"Your true passion?" Abraham asked and I smiled.

"Stimulants. Biochemistry naturally comes into play," I said easily.

"Yes, I remember reading how your work will let our subject endure a much higher level of serum and waves. Potentially almost 150% more than expected. This might be beyond super soldier," Abraham admitted, sounding less enthused than people might expect.

"If we want to make him explode. I'm limiting it to 70% at most. They should be pleased with anything that is beyond a 5%," I replied flatly. If they didn't need me to make the stuff, they'd ignore my warning and set it to max.

My opinion was 'valued' but I had better get back to looking busy when the military men came to see progress. Sometimes, it only felt like a select few appreciated what I could do.

Howard Stark was not one of them.

He found it highly amusing that I was in the workspace and as a worker. He treated me with the same value he put on the coffee maker or the clock on the wall. To be used and looked at.

Not to be trusted with America's future.

I excused myself as I went to rest in my room. I was already dealing with a 15 hour work schedule for the project, but with my recent vision… I was having issues.

Most of my other selves… they lived… in such fantastical futures. Modern eras where women could walk about as they pleased… hold higher positions as men in the military and even be president.

I… felt out of place in my own time.

But, to keep things rational. I remembered the Sandras that emerged from the Russian programs. Sandras buried deep in the Hitler regime… Sandras that were so troubled that no amount of 'Ubers' or 'Netflix' could solve their issues.

There was one that I connected to that left me speechless. She was using my stimulants as bomb fuels and some strange serum for strength. She was some hideous goblin creature when she was in disguise. Orange and yellowed face like aged paper.

I was determined not to put charges in her field again. I wasn't up to seeing more of her. As I entered my room, I shut the door and sighed.

I shivered at the room, the concrete walls were devoid of personality and the dingy light did little to dismiss my growing concern of attackers hiding in the shadows. After the glimpses of what I had seen in the visions… how could I relax?

I turned to the desk nearby and the lone piece of machinery there. The grey lid held technology so advanced that in most cases it would take an entire wall to do what it did in the space between my hands.

Howard called it a 'personal computer' as if such a trend would catch on.

But I had seen the future… so maybe it would?

It had been a gift to Abraham, but the man disliked the feeling of it, preferring his blackboard and thoughts than the machine. He gave it to me and I had to admit, it was very handy. I'd been keeping details on the project so far along with some of my personal formulas.

If I didn't use it, Howard would constantly be in the main lab as a point of showing it off. The amount of files he already had on it with unassuming passwords was sad.

I settled on the bed, knowing the project would finally be done tonight. My work, Abraham's, and even Starks would all forge a new tomorrow.

It had too…

I felt I only had a few winks of sleep when alarms sounded making me bolt out of bed, syringe of chemicals in hand as I went to the door, my mind jumbled. I opened it to find one of the marshal's men that guarded the facility already there.

I relaxed for a fraction, but he had his gun out and was already raising. He was a man I had seen around and he always had an affable manner, but now his brown eyes looked colder than Siberian ice.

I stabbed him in the chest and he stumbled in shock. I didn't want to waste my chemicals on him, but if you weren't ready for the rush? It was a great distraction. I kicked the gun out of his hand as he backhanded me. I landed harshly against the wall, but his attention snapped to the laptop nearby on the desk.

He moved and my hand raised, his gun in my hand.

We both paused.

He smiled and I could tell how unnatural it was, like an expression he turned on like a switch.

"Madam, put the gun down. We both know it's unlikely you can pull the trigger," he said as his eyes expanded as his blood began to pump.

I pretended he was Howard Stark and found it rather easy to put a bullet in his leg, making him scream. I stood up slowly.

"That's doctor to you," I warned, levelling the gun at him. He stared up and he made that smile again.

"I'm afraid you'll be the only doctor on site by now," he said as he lost blood.

"Answer my questions and I'll stop the bleeding," I bluffed. I wasn't going to let him die, but he didn't know that, but at the rate he was bleeding out… I wished I had invested in some marksmanship. Aiming for the fat of the leg or calf muscle would have been easier and less riskier…

Well, he had my stimulant in him. So, the unnatural blood pool was partly my fault. You couldn't pump the heart faster and not expect more blood.

He grimaced and bit his tongue. I stared as he met my eyes, swallowing.

"America's weapon, the knowledge, belongs to the leader. Your efforts, American whore, have been for naught. Hail… Hydra," he gasped, spittle and white foam forming on his lips. I narrowed my eyes and was at his side in a second stabbing a combination of syringes into his system.

I did not develop everything I had to lose to a common suicide pill such as this!

His body shook as I injected the Hummingbird Coffee into him, grateful I picked that up from one of the Sandras. The mixture along with a series of other ones forced his heart to beat. He might develop some issues, but my pity was limited when I awoke from a nap.

His eyes went from confused to horrified as he stared at me.

"Again… that's Doctor American Whore to you, you sack of traitorous shit," I hissed.

Backup arrived in the form of a very topless and buff blond man and Peggy.

My heart broke when I heard about Abraham.

Then it burned with purpose.

I would personally dismantle the Nazi movement with my barehands.

I couldn't afford to lose any more friends.

I stumbled home and pulled the battered laptop out from under my sofa bed, staring at the near replica of the machine I saw in my vision. I was a badass World War 2 scientist who helped make Steve into super Steve! If… if this only had Howard Starks notes on it since I obviously didn't exist in 1930 in my world, did that mean I had the thing that made Steve into what he was right here and on my phone?

That was… important, right?

But I had to get in touch with people. Like, Natasha and Tony.

Tony because if I was right, then the person likely to crack Howard Stark's codes had to be his son… and Natasha because I lowkey wanted to know if a super Nazi-cult was still around.

I did the sensible thing in this regard.

I invited the billion dollar businessman and the superspy for dinner in my dingy apartment. Which, of course, meant I accidentally invited Tabitha and Laura… then passed on to Tony it was fine if Bruce and Steve along with Pepper came.

Cause obviously I couldn't stop myself and I might as well just stick my head out the window and scream for Spider-Man to join me.

I pondered on inviting my new tenants, but didn't want to scare them.

It might be a bit much for their first night here.

' There isn't enough time in the world to ready them for this,' Logic Sandra said as Chef Sandra sharpened her knives eagerly.

In apartment 1A, the couple James and Sarah sat on their bed, quiet and unmoving other than their near silent clicks of their laptop. After a moment, their screens popped with a shared email that they would continue to wait for further instructions.

Stay out of sight and mind.

They deleted the email and plastered smiles on each of their faces making inane talk about dinner and how work sucked.

The perfect low-income couple.

Their trail of their comrade was cold, but they would continue to serve.

Always serve.

But the flies were always the most confident before the widow spun her web.

They could have never known about Sandra AeKure's dinner plans.

24: May Day! Plants?!

It turned out that expecting very important people to be free for dinner at a moment's notice wasn't always going to be possible. I couldn't get them that night, but Tony and Pepper did promise first thing on Monday, which considering today was Saturday? I felt confident I could get through the weekend with little trouble.

I had to honestly believe that or I might go slightly crazy.

Bruce wasn't… available and Tony was avoiding explaining why which I took as a 'company/science' thing which Bruce was involved in. Steve said he couldn't make it due to some special event involving his time in the war.

I suspected some memorial service he couldn't slip away from without seeming massively disrespectful. So, I decided to just round them all up for Monday and call it a day.

"Hey kids, what do you say about a lazy day in and some pizza for dinner?" I offered as I walked into the living room. Emma looked up, already ready for her argument of what kind.

Emma was a meatball explosion kind of girl, but Nico was peppers and chicken.

I always ended up ordering two pizzas and just taking shares of each. I was a tuna gal, but they looked at me as if I said I liked puppies and broken dreams as a topping and not fish. I would win in the end because the tiny pot of ice-cream they threw in for free would be mine.

… I mean, if they asked for a bite, I would share of course. I wasn't a monster.

Chef Sandra pointed out not only could I make pizzas far healthier and more delicious than the joint, I could almost make Ice-Cream that would literally rock their worlds.

She has a point, but I was a 3 on the 'motivational' scale right now. Cooking was effort, picking up the phone was easy! At that thought, I idly wondered what Chef Sandra's world was like?

Thoughts for another time.

Nico looked up from where he was plowing through his homework and looked regretful.

"I was going to meet that lady I was talking about," he said and I winced internally as he had mentioned something last night about that, but between the laptop and the stress, I must have taken it in while distracted.

"Hence why your portion will be here when you get back. The only thing better than pizza is left-over pizza," I said easily, planting a kiss on his head which was getting harder to do by the day.

Nico was growing too damn fast for his poor momma to glower down at him. Still, being small never deterred a determined mother bent on bending their kid's ear when they needed it.

"Yeah, your pizza choice, while revolting, will remain safe. Unless I trade it to Tabitha for tips on how to fold a cherry stem with just my tongue. She showed me that yesterday and it was insane!" Emma gushed as she went slightly dreamy eyed at this 'fabled' skill she could master.

I paused in sipping my coffee.

It wasn't the worst thing Tabitha could have shown Emma… I mean, Laura knew how to kill someone apparently in ten different ways. Emma could have wanted to learn that.

Cherry stems were tame in comparison.

"Touch my pizza and I'll turn your hair into snakes," Nico warned and Emma squared up to him, unafraid.

"Do that and I'll tell all your friends about the time you thought you saw Captain America and ran off in the park, but it was just some guy in a blue tracksuit," she fired back. Nico pulled back, lips curled inwards in disgust.

"You're a brat," he said finally.

"A brat with pizza," she grinned up at him, her brown hair bouncing merrily as she turned away.

"Children," I said without looking up from my new phone and checking the news sites.

"Sorry, Mom," they both intoned. It was so nice to see the old routine had survived the fire and was in full power again. I certainly couldn't live without my children blackmailing each other over pizza every day.

I was slightly surprised to see a name I knew on an article, sort of tucked away behind all the celebrity gossip and business stuff.

" DNA specialist Kurt Connors won his legal battle to terminate his Oscorp contract early to pursue a new career with Harvest Manufacturer, the up and coming rival company that recently obtained Allen Chemicals along with several notable firms," the page read.

That was the guy from Biologist Sandra's vision. The man with the missing arm…

I pushed down the uneasy feeling I had. One version of the man hardly condemned them all, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that I should keep my eyes open for any developments. One, it was nice to see Norman lose again in court, and two…

I guess I felt like it would be idiotic to ignore what happened in one universe. Both men were DNA specialists which was a pattern. I watched as Nico got ready to head out.

"Are you sure this woman, this 'Agatha' is someone you want to meet?" I asked which got me a determined look from Nico as he nodded.

"Yeah, the worst she can do is say no and slam the door in my face or just refuse to see me," he said, exhaling out a sight.

"She could put you in the oven and cook you," I countered. My son gave the look he usually reserved for the most idiotic statements.

"Mother, she's a practitioner of the arts and a powerful one. She at least has a rice cooker or an air fryer," he said back with a smirk.

"If she has a magic spell for housework, make sure you sell some years of your life in servitude in payment for it please," I added as I made sure he had his mobile phone, money for the bus, and there was no dirt behind his ear.

I was worried about him, but there was no point of rushing to this woman myself and trying to handle it. I had a sense that these magic types didn't think having one's mother ask on their behalf to be very convincing.

I also… sort of hoped that she did turn Nico away and he didn't go further with magic. As hypocritical as it was, I would like my kids to have safe and normal lives eventually.

That left me hanging out with Emma who eventually also ditched me to go hang out with Tabitha who offered to take her to the mall to get their nails done.

"She's like a little sister that I can leave at your place when I get bored," Tabitha announced with glee as she accepted some cash from me to cover Emma's expenses. My little girl would sooner bowl me over than be stopped going out and being mature.

I was sure soon Emma would see how woefully inaccurate it was to call Tabitha 'mature'. I hope. I suppose helping her and Natasha break into a villains warehouse and rescue a kidnapped mutant means I could trust her with my little girl.

But if she came back with a tattoo, I was going to introduce Tabitha to my turrets.

I eyed my empty apartment before I decided I need to be 'rational' and put that laptop somewhere safe and I knew exactly where to do that.

I headed out not long after with the thing in a backpack.

The nice couple downstairs were just coming in with groceries and they gave me a smile which I returned.

But…

I didn't look back, but Logic Sandra was like a beacon, homing in on their position mentally.

Spy Sandra knew something was up, but was staring at Logic to help her understand. It took me a moment to figure it out myself.

Their bags; it contained toothpaste, cabbage, new toothbrushes, and lightbulbs. But when I was helping them settle in, I remember seeing new toothbrushes already in the bathroom and a full tube of toothpaste… also one lightbulb was fine, but four separate ones seemed excessive since I knew all the building lights were functional and working.

'It could be lamps or something,' I tried to rationalize. Also, toothbrushes for each day of the week?

Also… why was it quiet in their apartment? Not TV or even raised voices. I expected some couple issues since they were forced to downgrade due to income, but they looked perfectly at ease in their new home.

They didn't look sleepless or stressed or wearing the same clothes since the rest were in boxes…

Logic Sandra saw the issue on their behavior which set Spy off.

I hurried on around my building, slinking into a crouch and heading for a corner which would show me if anyone would follow.

After a few minutes, no one did. Instead, I headed up the fire escape of the building across the alley from my building, keeping my head low.

By the time I reached high enough to look into my windows, I saw the man, James, moving like some spooky man through my living room, opening drawers, and the woman was in Emma's room.

I ducked back down, moving as quietly as the metal would let me.

I fully embraced my knowledge.

Posture was different, the emotions, the act they showed me was all a front. I invited some trained… drones as renters. I say drones because these were clearly low-level watchers pulled into a detail they weren't trained for.

If I was a normal house-Mom, I'd find them odd, but not too weird.

As I was now? I saw they weren't trained hard on the undercover thing. I'd say they were one step below operative. Plants one might put in place to build a network, but unimportant pillars of that network.

That was neat, but what did they want?!

Spy offered three possibilities as I headed down the alley.

One, they knew of my powers and were planting bugs to monitor me. Possible leaks involve Bruce, Natasha, Tony, or spies at Stark Tower.

Two, they suspected I was involved in breaking out Tabitha and Laura's friend, Tatiana, and now I was involved in a big conspiracy. They might want to know how I found them or how I helped. This seemed the least likely since Tabitha's apartment would be more a target.

Three, they were using my apartment first as a means for some other operation and just happened to have my phone lines tapped when I told Tony I had a computer that was old and had his dad's software on it.

Said Laptop I suspected had government secrets on it worth doing some damage over? It was fine, I just… had to get somewhere safe, called Natasha, and see what to do.

The idea of seeing how far I could push them as their landlord entertained me for a moment, but I couldn't justify it in the end if they were in my house.

What if I left Emma alone for ten minutes to get milk and they walked in on her?

The idea made my stomach run cold before it churned in hot anger.

How… dare they?

How dare these lame untrained spies come into my home and think I wouldn't notice? The utter arrogance of them making my new home feel unsafe.

I leaned against the brickwork at the dead end.

If they wanted to play at spy? I could play and I could bring the more experienced spy. I pushed open the secret tunnel entrance and climbed down, ready to plant the laptop in the lair for now.

I was sitting on a point I was going to use on art or something, but I think I needed to focus it a bit more tightly today. I put it into Spy as I was beginning to get paranoid that my postman would be a spy next.

The knowledge expanded. The art of deep cover came up ironically enough. How to embrace a character, how to dive so deep into a lie that you almost lived it as the truth. With it, the art of knowing what was too much or too little. One could hide in audacity while another could die in plainess.

To be a spy was to fit, not to blend. Those that blended didn't get to see what people paid spies for. With that came a truly massive spike in behavior training which Logic Sandra compounded into her own.

It also came with a clean fact that I hadn't thought about.

If they sucked at acting, their talents laid elsewhere… assassination perhaps or setting bombs.

I pulled up my phone and called the number I simply had listed as 'N'.

"Nat, I have a problem," I said as I looked up the ladder.

I paused for a moment to listen.

"What do you mean you're in the country of 'classified'?" I said sharply, my plans running to the ground.

" It means- One moment," Natasha said before the sharp bark of gunfire sounded across the connection.

" Should have packed more clips- No, I can't help you. I'm doing my day job of 'toppling the government' as you keep joking. I go where I'm needed. America today, Russia tomorrow, and if I'm lucky, in Quebec for Sunday," she grunted as something thudded close by.

"What am I going to do about the two shitty spies in my apartment?" I asked quickly, wondering if I would have to build something to help.

" Just… give me a moment," she said and put me on hold. The audacity of one, answering a call in the middle of a firefight and two, putting me on hold to make another call in the middle of said firefight.

Not long after, she came back online with a solution.

I was… intrigued, if nothing else.

I wasn't sure Natasha had sent the right person when someone slid into the booth across from me. I had called Tabitha and Nico to insist they stay out a bit longer. Tabitha made some remark about getting some, but the only thing I was getting was justice.

The disarming sweater and jeans did not scream 'Natasha sent me' which I guessed was a good thing. After a moment, she smiled and it instantly felt real and reassuring. If she was faker, she was even better than Natasha.

Her dark hair with fading blonde streaks softly covered part of her smooth face. With dusky skin and features that should belong on a model, she took a sigh as if readying herself. She looked like she should be in some fancy restaurant, not a Starbucks.

"I'm so excited to meet you. It's so hard to meet nice single Rebuplican women online and ones into nudist beaches," the woman said, and even her voice was soft. It was so nice that it took me a moment to recall what she just said.

I think all my voices spluttered at the same time.

She cracked a smile, holding up her hands.

"I'm kidding! Don't shoot," she promised before holding a hand out to me.

"Melinda May… you're not what I expected of Romanoff's pet secret scientist," she said slowly. I eyed her in return.

"Sandra Aekure. You're not what I expected from the next best in line after Natasha," you said back. She raised a brow.

"We could debate who'd win, but I think at the end, we'd both just quit and get a drink. When you get to a certain level you just know some shit isn't worth figuring out," she promised and someone brought her a drink from the counter… already paid.

Which meant she ordered inside and did so without me noticing her.

Damn.

She rolled something towards me and I caught it on the table. It was a round brown marble; sort of like a sweet.

Except, its structure and texture was that of a Hum Pill. I rolled it, feeling its weight… much less condensed. I held it up to the light and nearly scoffed at the inner layers. Three layers between the medicine and energy booster? Were they trying to make it useless?

If imitation was flattery? I think I just got called garbage.

"That's all the verification I need. You made the original H.U.M pill?" she asked and the way she said it made my eyes narrow slightly.

"Hum," I corrected and she nodded.

"H.U.M," she agreed.

"What do the letters stand for?" I asked, wondering if I needed to call Nat again in the middle of another war.

"Handheld Universal Medicine," she said slowly, smiling as she could tell this was bugging me now. I swallowed back my first response and sipped down my caramel frappuccino with extra cream, sounding displeased.

"One, it's not a medicine. It's an aid. It's not designed to tackle viruses or diseases," I said after getting some sugar in me.

"It's also not universal as I'm pretty sure it only does wounds," I went on and I picked it up.

"Most pills are handheld, otherwise we'd be taking them rectally most days as they'd be too big for our mouths," I said and this made a nearby table look over, eyes wide.

"It's a comedy act, she's improving," Melinda said with an easy smile before she turned back to me, thinking.

"Highly Unique Moniker?" Melinda offered and I think my glare just amused her for some reason. Likely because she didn't see me as dangerous without tools in my hand.

"So, I hear you have pests and I came down because they overlap with some reports I've been getting. I'm usually desk work these days, but it's good to make sure my legs still work," she explained as she pocketed her pill back into a case with two others.

The sight of them made me grumpy.

It wasn't even honest innovation or some creative spin, it was just bad in every way. I would have almost preferred if Melinda's pills had a tracking function or exploded if she tapped it three times.

Now, I had the issue… did I tell them about the laptop and risk them taking it even if I had the files on my phone… or do I keep it quiet?

"Yeah, I think I rented an apartment out to plants that were in my apartment," I explained.

"Are they after this laptop you purchased recently?" Melinda asked as she sipped her own cold beverage. I stared at her.

"You were hardly subtle when you yelled at Stark about it. One of SHIELD's agents is a stockholder in his company with his approval, a friend of mine," she explained.

"You people are everywhere," I whispered. Melinda May merely nodded once.

"You have to be. A Shield is only as good as where you point it," she explained.

"I thought that was a sword?" I said slowly in return.

"No, a sword is a threat by simply being. Swords cut off heads which is sounding better by the day," she admitted before she gave me a smile.

"Ever done a whack-a-bush?" she asked abruptly.

"I thought you were kidding about the lesbian republican thing?" I asked, clutching my drink to my chest like it was a shield in itself that would stop the fully trained agent on the other side of the table.

"You can never tell, but no. I mean where you shake a bush and see what critters come crawling out. The best version of the game is knowing there are snakes and seeing if you can avoid being bitten," she promised.

I don't think I liked the sound of this game.

"But instead of snakes, you have potential enemy spies you shake up which makes them return to their programming and likely run back to the one holding their leashes. If we capture them, they have ways of shutting down or killing themselves before we can secure them," Melinda went on casually.

"How do we play?" I asked and Melinda checked her black sleek phone.

"We already are," she said casually back before she stood up.

"My team rattled them and they've bolted. You're free to go home and relax," she said before leaning on the table.

"Or you can ride in this sweet SHIELD armoured truck with air conditioning," she offered.

"Why are you here if you're doing the thing?" I asked as I followed her outside onto the street.

"You could have been kidnapped when the plants were unearthed. You're a SHIELD asset to upper agents and Romanoff, we don't skimp on protection detail for that kind of level," she began as she rolled her sleeves up.

"Also, you could have wandered home and became a hostage, another 'no thanks' from me," she went on.

I was beginning to feel I wasn't as smart as I think I was…

"The last reason is that if Romanoff goes off-grid or gets-" she eyed me then changed her words before she said them, "-retires then you need another agent to contact for these kinds of things," she said and I guess I could see the importance of that.

"That makes it sound like I already work for SHIELD," I said and I was about to remind her that I already turned that job offer down.

"No, you don't. But SHIELD is for its people or so its claims. You shouldn't need to scratch our backs to be safe. You're important, but you're also someone in danger… it doesn't need six contracts and five years of anti-brainwashing training for SHIELD to help you out," she said and this seemed more personal… more of Melinda's own thoughts.

A simple truck that could have been for any bank or company pulled up and Melinda climbed into the back before she looked at me.

"You make it sound like SHIELD doesn't do that," I pointed out, not climbing in just yet.

"I won't lie, AeKure, SHIELD's got rot in its cracks and it needs some honest work, but it is still led by one of the best men I know and that means something. Romanoff, myself, and even more people whose lives you'll save with your work are good types. Keep doing what you need to do and we'll be there for you, but it's safer for you to be on the outside," Melinda warned and she said it frankly enough that I took her offered hand and let me her pull me inside the roomy truck where two men worked at consoles, monitoring screens.

"You say that, but you just dragged me in," I pointed out dryly as I settled down on a cushy seat. Melinda looked around.

"This is not really SHIELD… this is more… the Cavalry that gets called in to do the dirty work," she said, waving a hand.

I supposed that I couldn't be too grumpy about it all.

I tried to psyche myself up.

'Cheer up, Sandra, the calvary is here!' I prompted and gave Melinda a weak smile.

"Let's whack some bushes," I said finally and the truck took off.

25: Visitors?

Shield had some nice toys, I had to admit. The truck, while a bit military for the streets of New York, was packed with screens and a state-of-the-art communication system that could both tap into the hell that was New York's radio space and isolate certain bands or frequencies on the fly.

It also seemed to casually break a few privacy laws as it accessed any security footage that worked wirelessly, showing a furious shifting picture of my two 'renters'.

"Targets are moving independently, I want Team 1 on the woman, 2 on the man. Team three, keep moving ahead and be ready to converge on either target 1 or 2. I'm not chasing two rabbits just to lose both," May spoke into an earpiece with a tone that made it clear she expected to be obeyed.

I sort of knew why I was here. Why Melinda here was bothering in letting a 'prime asset' that was also a civilian on her little command platform.

One, it was easier to keep me safe if she was within shooting distance of anyone trying to grab me and two, it was her way of showing she intended to keep her word about helping me… about Shield helping where it could.

You didn't appreciate things until you saw them for yourself, I guess.

"My team is a collection of favourable operatives, ex-soldiers with a good mindset, and a collection of sector people who showed they have the means to excel, but wouldn't do well in Shield proper. It helps to think of what I do as maintaining a sort of contact point between these potentials and Shield. Everyone here works for Shield, but not everyone is Shield," she explained, leaning back as the man leapt through a window, vanishing from sight, only to be chased by two women and a man.

"I used to be an airforce radio tower operative," one of the guys on the computers joked before he looked down to shift through a dozen different cameras.

"So, there's 'SHIELD' and there's 'SHIELD associates'," I said after a moment. Melinda nodded, her eyes taking in the staggering amount of feeds before her seemingly casually.

"Yup. Shield's old boss didn't like the look of the consolidation of power under the organization's control. He set up a few related, but able to work independently groups which has its own dangers, but you can't really make a perfect spy system. A perfect spy is eventually surpassed by a more perfect spy," Melinda went on which took me a few moments to wrap my head around.

I was distracted as I got a charge, my contacts stopping the inside of the truck from lighting up from my eyes.

We watched for a moment as the male spy was cornered and tried to swallow something, but he was tackled… the female spy, now visible on an agent's helmet cam, seemed to reach some 'door' that was disguised as a wall inside an apartment building, the second the door opened, a flash went off and the screen went white.

The team began to report in, all accounted for, but the spy was a black smouldering corpse as inside the room was nothing but fire and smoke.

"They were set up to die either way. Like test rats aimed at our electric fence," Melinda blew out a sigh as she took off her earpiece.

"So what did you learn?" I asked as the truck did a soft turn on the road, heading back the way we came.

"Nothing good, but that's the nature of the job," Melinda admitted.

Still, the fact a group was so willing to throw away indoctrinated people spoke of either casual waste of resources or an abundance of them or both…

Like Melinda said… 'Nothing good' indeed.

Their apartment was gutted. Only the leftover milk and bedsheets left behind ever showed people lived in this apartment. I suppose Melinda had everything taken in case it was booby trapped, but it just left the place feeling hollow.

I had Melinda's number now, a big thing considering that she was supposedly a big name, but if I was now her 'responsibility'? She wouldn't mind. I walked up to my apartment and began to clean out the place of any bugs.

I only found one that was amateurishly placed in my lamp, but besides that, my apartment was clean. I knew I should have told Melinda about my secret base, but I was hesitant because of what she said… and what she didn't say about SHIELD.

If Shield had both issues of having too much power and spies… then it wouldn't be inaccurate to think the spies had been infiltrated by other spies. What I told Melinda would be safe with her until she reported it then it became Shield's domain which wasn't safe.

I sat in my quiet apartment, a text from Tabitha saying she and Emma were catching a film. Nothing from Nico yet, but considering he was nervous, he tended not to get in touch for a while.

This group… Maybe Hydra, maybe not, were meddling and deep down, I knew I wasn't going to give up what life I had chosen.

I was the Landlady of AeKure Acres.

My tenants, all two of them, needed to feel safe.

I should focus on making my building, and myself, ready for any future trouble. If I was going to make my building as amazing as the Baxter Building? It was going to need some serious care to survive anything.

I popped my charge into Building Maintenance, bringing it to its second rank.

The knowledge bubbled in, flowing around my mind as I learned about installing monitoring systems over the building's electrical and water pipes, able to measure if there was a sudden surge or drop. There were facts on how to maintain a water tower on the roof and connect it to the emergency sprinkler systems.

I even learned how to make the fire escape hold more weight than three pigeons.

I inhaled and stood up, determined.

It was time to make the theoretical into practical.

"Woah," Tabitha announced as she walked into the foyer where I was hard at work installing a more functional light, front door, and series of mailslots.

The front door was easy, to be honest. I replaced the simple lock with a series of clockwork gears that operated bolts that popped out of the frame on all sides. Sort of like a bank vault, now that I was looking at it.

Tinkerer Sandra and Security Sandra just nodded in satisfaction.

I didn't even need to change the keys and they popped open with a simple push of a button on the inside.

The light was a simple re-wiring issue that only took some small cost to purchase. Most of the wires were old or wearing down or the light fixture itself was simply crap.

Now my foyer was secure, had a lovely luminous quality that revealed the chipped paint, cracked floor, and cobwebs… the mail slots were pretty normal, using the person's key to open. I didn't feel the need to go fancy.

Especially after I stood up, I saw the issue of how the delivery guy was suppose to enter the building to put the mail in their slots… so I just added a 'public service' button and linked it to my intercom so I could buzz them in.

"What do you think?" I asked, wiping my brow as I put down my screwdriver.

"It's like when the light comes on in a nightclub… less confusing, but sometimes you see things," Tabitha announced, hand on her chin.

"Like what?" Emma asked as she licked her ice-cream cone.

"The reason why people stay single," Tabitha responded sagely.

I stretched and Emma showed off her single strip of hair that was neon pink and a shirt she bought. I was glad she had fun.

Still, the urge to say 'Mommy was involved in a spy operation and rode in a battle truck' was strong, but I wasn't ten years old.

"I'm glad she didn't come back covered in tattoos or with six piercings," I said dryly, eyeing Tabitha who shrugged.

"We blew our rebel budget on ice-cream," she said easily.

What a hero.

As I went to return to work, with Emma as my foreman now, I was stopped by a buzz that sounded from the door. The thing was wired to also buzz if the public button was pressed. I went up to it and peered out the peephole.

I saw a stern looking older woman waiting there, eyeing the peephole as if she knew I was there. Her pulled back hair was in a neat bun while her dark shawl covered her from the shoulders down.

I got 'strict headmistress' vibes.

I opened the door cautiously.

"Miss AeKure, apologies for the abrupt arivial on your doorstep. My name is Agatha Harkness, may we speak inside about your son, Nico?" she asked with a soft tone that seemed more Bostion than New York.

Maybe even more south than Boston, it was hard to guess.

"Are you going to turn me into a toad?" I asked bluntly, needing a day off from the weirdness.

"Not likely, toads and frogs can be messy. A nice minx or cat perhaps?" she offered with a smile.

"Well, might as well invite you in before you change me. I hate to be rude and an animal," I said, unsure why she was here when Nico was on his way to meet her.

She was quiet as she walked upstairs and Emma looked annoyed when I said she'd hang with Tabitha. I knew why, she wanted to badger Agatha about being magic, but I gave her my look and she deflated.

Emma could be mature, but she could also not be at times.

When I shut my front door, I offered her tea or coffee.

"Oh, I would, but I'm not actually here so I'd just ruin your home with stains," Agatha said smoothly as she sat in the lone armchair, making it look regal.

Logic Sandra pondered if she meant if she was mentally not here or if she actually meant-

Her form shimmered, going see-through then back again to solid.

The council all blinked once slowly.

"Ah, quite literally… not here," I said slowly and sat down.

"It saves on taking the bus. Do you know your son is outside my front door, listing why he should be trained under me?" she asked, amused as looked around.

"He isn't being rude, is he?" I asked, my concern for him was great, but I didn't think Agatha had come to taunt me about taking my child so openly.

"No, he's quite firm in his reasoning, but he is quite young. I would hesitate to take on a student as such unless there were dire circumstances," she admitted, steepling her long fingers together.

I thought of the goblin, the secret spies… other issues.

"Be frank with me, you've been around the block," I began bluntly, getting a bemused raised eyebrow in return, "if Nico doesn't get you to teach him, will he just move on to more sketchy stuff? Will he suffer from some issue of not using his power?" I asked, knowing that while I could spend a charge on getting magical knowledge…

It wouldn't tell me the odds or Nico's future or what to really look for in budding mages. Agatha was worth ten charges at least and she was right here.

"Potentially high risk. Frustration can lead the unfulfilled to less safe beings. Hedge Wizards looking to increase their covens, witches that would use him in group rituals, and even darker forces always looking for fresh blood to use in their endless war on everyone. As for his power? Hard to say, no one practitioner develops as another. Always a little difference… sometimes a big difference. What could be a young man with some skills could easily become a powerful wizard with the right catalyst," Agatha said, voice deep with thought.

"But the fact you're here means you want to offer a deal or spread out options," I said, deciding Agatha was a woman who didn't waste time on frivolities.

She smiled a small smile.

"Astout," she admitted before leaning forward.

"I believe you should be able to aid me. I admit I'm not sure exactly how, but when I consulted my power… you turned out to be a useful aid. I wonder why… but it isn't my place to pry. I will accept your son as a student if you do me two favours," she said smoothly, her face relaxed.

Lawyer Sandra: Read before just clicking accept on the terms and agreement!

I twitched and tried to also look calm.

"Which are?" I pressed.

"One now, one in the unforeseen future. The current and pressing favour is I need a particular object constructed within the month, as the full moon is closing in. It is an intricate symbol of crow carved in ancient celtic druidic runes. These need to be ringed with words of summoning, calling, and more," Agatha said, voice projecting no emotion.

"I might need details, like what to carve from," I protested and Agatha merely shrugged one shoulder.

"You are or will be, the expert," she said with a mysterious smile.

"This won't involve my son or killing someone, will it? I want to know that much," I stood up, arms crossed, trying not to waft the astral projection out the nearby window like a bad smell.

"I have no plans to involve your son or plot the death of anyone. In fact, you may end up freeing a soul tormented," Agatha said before she too stood up.

"Do the first favour and your son's education will begin, the second favour will not impact his future, but I expect you to uphold it for the sake of your honour," Agatha Harkness warned then smiled.

"I suspect this will be interesting," she mused and abruptly vanished.

"I hope you hit astral projection traffic," I muttered childishly.

Still, the feeling of stepping around something big was noticeable. Whatever Agatha was doing was… big and I had no clue what crows or druids had to do with anything.

I turned on the TV, hoping to calm down, but no drama mystery or trashy rom-com was settling me just now. I flipped channels until I heard a strange thump on my roof.

I closed my eyes.

What was Tabitha doing on the roof with Emma?

I marched up the flight of stairs in the hall and out to the small humble beginnings of a roof garden to see something that was not my daughter or Tabitha there.

Leaning against one of the benches was a bleeding Spider-Man, cut in a dozen places and with a massive metallic stinger in one shoulder.

"I need… feel good… cream," the man slurred and pointed two feet off from where I was.

"Doctor Nico… in the house!" he said and fell flat on his face.

I stared for a long moment before Battle Medic instincts took over and I was by his side, not daring to move him until I could stabilize him. The best thing I could do was use the placement of umbrellas the girls brought to sit in the sun without tanning.

I tried to think if I had any spare pills, but I didn't think so, the current means to make them destroyed my kitchen and I just couldn't bring myself to do that over and over. Sure, I wished I had some now, but what I could do would have to do.

I paused when I reached his face. I needed a clear way to check his pulse, and more, but taking off his mask…

Every inch of me felt like it was a massive violation, and even Spy Sandra mused on the importance of one's identity.

But what good would it do if he died?

It was the same reason I didn't remove the sting instantly. If I yanked it out, whatever blood vessels or damage it was keeping in would come leaking out.

I needed an O.R, a team of helpers, and stats read out by a dozen machines.

What I had were two hands and dilemma.

On one hand, if he lived, he could rage or get angry. On the other hand… I'm sure his funeral would be packed cause he was Spider-Man.

I pulled the mask up so far to reveal his lower face.

No beard… rather young looking. He reminded me of Peter a little, the way his jaw curved and that made me a little sad, imagine sweet Peter in a state like this. I went about the basics, tearing my own shirt up for bandages to stop the worst of the bleeding.

Spy Sandra: I'm going to tell her.

Logic Sandra: Don't you dare.

His pulse was thready, but becoming stronger. It was… extremely odd, I expected it to get weaker, but his wounds were already beginning to scab as well. That wasn't just fast regeneration, that was 'almost visibly fixing' himself before my eyes.

Biologist Sandra: Take his blood. We could make indestructible puppies!

Chemist Sandra: The fact he's healing so fast must mean his blood is either filled with robots or… a unique enzyme! Oh we need to drain this sucker!

Quiet in the council house that is my mind. A superhero was dying on my roof! I didn't have insurance to cover this!

Once he stopped bleeding, I dragged him inside, wincing at how heavy he was. His hand was also sticking to my back and it occasionally peeled off disturbingly. Once I got him into the living room, I put him down on the couch, careful to avoid removing the stinger or jostling it

I looked around my apartment, desperate for ideas.

A hospital was a no-go. Spider-Man technically was illegal and I didn't feel like fighting off nurse fangirls of J.J Jameson eager to cash the Spider in for the reward.

None of my inventions could help, even the pill needed things I didn't quite have.

Just as I was panicking, I got a charge. I shoved into First Aid and I got a rush of deeper understanding of the body that coupled with biology, after a moment of seeing how to detect and repair punctured bowels, locate fluid in the lungs with instruments, I even learned a lot of tricks I didn't think were in the medical textbook. Some even offered tips for working on clearly not normal patients.

Such as how to patch the wounds of an Atlantean person or use workabouts if someone had tough skin.

Usually any orifice was the way and if not? The eyes.

I forgot Atlantis was a thing… it was big in the 50's and sort just… stopped being so important when it was wrecked.

I turned to Spider-Man and began, more methodically to time his regeneration, getting a rough estimation of how long it took for his wounds to scab over.

When I had the timing down to an average, I put both hands on the stinger using my oven mitts for protection. The thing might be coated in poison after all…

I tugged once, get a soft moan of pain from Spider-Man, but I stopped and let his body heal slightly, then after the time I guessed, I pulled again and Spider-Man gave a louder grunt and I repeated the process,

Pull, wait for the healing to kick, pull a little more. I think I was there for nearly an hour, pulling this way or that, my hands covered in sweat from the mitts.

When I finally got the thing out, the wound was huge and bloody, but not gushing like you'd expect on a normal person.

Softly I bent down and dabbed at his sweating neck, his laboured breathing hard to take. He was so young and he did this everyday?

I… felt outraged on his behalf. What about school? Family? Friends?!

Any young person needed things to keep him sane and I… eyed the mask. Spider-Man was unconscious and defenceless.

I touched the mask.

Pulling it down I got to work taping him up as best I could… using disinfectant on the edges rather than just pouring it in the wound.

I looked up to see Laura producing a first aid kit without a word and nodding at me.

"I cleaned up the roof. Call me if he wakes up in rage. He can hurt you badly if he's not fully conscious," Laura said as if she casually knew Spider-Man and walked back out.

Right… super senses.

Fresh blood would have kicked her off and… the fact she was leaving this in my care means she either didn't like Spider-Man or they had a history she was ashamed of.

Now, I kind of wanted to mother her too along with Spider-Man… but I had priorities. I carefully put him on Nico's bed along with a glass of water and aspirin. It wouldn't do much, but hopefully it would convey I wasn't dangerous.

I picked up my phone and dialled Nico.

" Mom! Miss Harkness accepted me-" he began and as much as I wanted to congratulate him? I needed to burst his bubble.

"Nico, why is Spider-Man half-dead on our roof and coming to you for medical aid?" I asked simply.

His silence was telling.

26: Spider? Needle!

Spider-man shook slightly before he jolted up, groaning, grasping at his wrapped shoulder.

"Don't jostle it, your wound could tear open despite how fast you heal," I cautioned and watched as the hero stiffened on my poor stained couch that I had usually slept on… and for an uncomfortable moment I was reminded of that vision where I was riding a Goblin glider and a Spider-Man attacked me with those mechanical spider legs.

He slowly turned to me and I swear I could hear an audible gulp.

Spy Sandra pointed out that he was a lot more nervous for a seasoned hero. I guess some people were just nervous like that.

"Um… howdy, miss," he greeted awkwardly and I stared at him for a long moment.

"Sorry to have… fell into your lap, but you patched me up! How about that… that's really nice of you not to toss me off your roof!" he exclaimed and tried to swing his legs off the edge of the sofa.

He hunched in on himself as pain radiated through his body and I gently pushed him back down.

"Hey… easy now. You're safe here," I promised and he weakly tried to shrug me off.

"I… I should go. I'm really sorry about this," he spoke up again and I cleared my throat to cut his next words off.

"You came here looking for my Nico," I said as calmly as I could. This caused the hero to clam up. After a few seconds, he gently tried to rise in clear panic.

"Nico is hero slang for street doctor!" he said confidently. Spy Sandra snorted so hard she began to choke and die in my mental space. I took a moment to answer, eyeing him. The red parts of his costume hide the bloody stains well, but the bandages I put on him didn't really.

"Young man, you can just say you'd rather not speak about it than lie to my face. I'd respect you more, now sit," I pointed and Spider-Man planted his rear back on my sofa like I had put an anvil in his lap.

"I'm technically the street doctor in this case and I didn't pull a bloody stinger from your shoulder to be lied to," I grumbled as I checked his shoulder and he was oddly quiet for a moment.

"You didn't peek under my mask?" he finally asked and I shook my head, distracted.

"Just enough to get a read on your pulse. If you had a head injury, that might have been a different story," I said, satisfied he hadn't torn his wound open.

"… Thank you. The only other guy I have to patch me up is working at a new company and he's hard to reach," Spider-Man admitted and I stared at him.

"You don't have a dedicated back-up team? Medic? Scout? Information feeder?" I asked, more appalled than upset.

"They'd want to be paid." Spider-Man pointed out and I just stared at him.

' If he doesn't die within the year, he's going to develop into a self-destructive loner who loses all relationships from hiding his injuries and secret life,' Logic Sandra said flatly.

"… My son's medical creams are all you have as back-up?" I finally said, more gentle now.

"They're good creams!" Spider-Man said back, defensively before he remembered who I was.

"You son is an upstanding citizen and his aid in my heroic career should not be his fault. I can cut all contact, just don't blame-" he began and I prodded his shoulder making him yelp. I sat next to him on the sofa.

"My son has been hiding a lot of stuff from me that I'm just figuring out. However, in less than two years, he's going to be legally an adult. I… want to keep him safe, but I don't think locking him in a padded room with bars on the window will stop the world banging on my door. Nico chose to help you, but you didn't force him into any of your fights. My son is a good man and he'll help because he knows it's the right thing to do," I reminded him, in case he didn't know Nico at all.

"I'm mad as a mother that he kept a secret like this, but also proud as his mother that he's reliable for you to turn to, but now that I stumbled onto this little thing; I need to interject because I know more about patching people up than Nico and you… you get hurt a lot," I said as if Spider-Man didn't know this.

"Just… keep him out of fights like you have and don't stop being his friend. Nico doesn't handle being left behind well," I said before gesturing to the kitchen.

"Now, before you swing away or whatever, do you want some coffee and food. I'm a good cook-" I began and he snapped his head to me faster than I could have blinked.

"Please!" he said before pausing.

"I mean… I promise not to involve Nico in any fights but…" he trailed off looking more eager now.

"I'd love anything you could throw together; really put the pep in my swing!" he insisted.

Ah, I think I snared another hero with my unfair cooking skills. Nico must have shared some of my leftovers with him in the old apartment.

I moved to the kitchenette and pulled out ingredients for a nice sandwich. It wasn't bombastic, but a good sandwich was fast to make.

"What even happened to you?" I asked as Spider-Man gently tested his arm's range.

"Some creep calling himself the Scorpion came out of nowhere and got a lucky hit in with this mechanical tail thing," he said grimly. I stared at him blankly. I mentally ran through his villains that I knew of.

Green Goblin, Vulture, the Lizard guy, a lot of mafia crimes, and maybe Shock? Shocker? I think he fought a guy made of sand once. My knowledge of Mechanical Engineering kicked in and I looked over to the sink where the stinger was resting. I walked over to it, running my finger over grooves and connector ports.

"Yeah… this thing isn't just a chunk of metal," I mused and I was surprised Spider-Man came to stand by my side.

"Careful, it could be… a bomb or maybe broadcast's J.J Jameson's radioshow," he warned with a grimace to his tone. I turned it over slightly, feeling how the end was slightly curved to pierce flesh and retract as painfully as possible.

I found some trigger mechanism at the back and parts of the side opened, revealing compacted circuits.

"That's… intriguing. It didn't set off… well, it's not dangerous," Spider-Man said, trying to take it from my hands, but I kept a tight grip on it.

Security Sandra and Spy Sandra were staring at the stinger with a combination of slight intrigue and a lot of horror.

"These are GPS circuits, hooked up to a broadcasting device set at the base," I muttered and there was a pause.

"What?" Spider-Man said with surprise before he snatched the stinger, showing a lot of strength, and examined it himself.

"You're… right. I-" Spider-Man backed away, holding the thing.

"I led the Scorpion and whoever funded him right here," he whispered. Oh, I wasn't letting him go down that road. I hated people who took blame for crap that wasn't their fault. The opposite of self-inflicted victims, martyrs, were just as bad as people who broke down anytime something mildly inconvenient happened to them. I grabbed his uninjured shoulder and made him look at me.

"We have time to come up with a strategy," I said and he tried to argue.

"I'm already on the radar of whatever's getting that signal. They know you're here so rushing off to take the tracker elsewhere will only leave me without your help," I pointed out, using logic to its full power.

Sure, I had Laura and Tabitha, but… he didn't need to know that right now.

"Miss AeKure, the Scorpion is strong, I can hold him evenly, but his tail and suit are unpredictable," he tried to point out as if I couldn't guess from the stinger, that thing was heavy…

"And you're injured," I said simply. He stared at me through those white lenses, waving his hands a little, but having no argument.

"She's also not alone," came a quiet voice. We both turned to my door to see Laura standing there with a bemused Tabitha.

To my surprise… Spider-Man let out a little squeak of what sounded like terror.

"H-hey, Logan's kid! Haven't seen you since you tried to… cut my head off," he trailed off feebly. I turned to stare at Laura who looked away with pink cheeks. Tabitha tutted.

"Her old government 'handlers' used a codeword to send her into a rage, hoping to use her to spark more anti-Mutant laws and set her loose in New York, she's better now," the girl promised as if it was that simple.

"I managed to slow her down until the X-Men came. She's a scrapper!" Spider-Man laughed with a slight hitch to his voice.

"… Sorry," Laura finally said to him.

"It's fine. Some of my best allies started off trying to kill me," Spider-Man promised, counting with his fingers.

"Johnny Storm, Iron Fist, Prowler, Luke Cage, Daredevil…" he went on. I was annoyed none of these allies were someone Spider-Man could turn to for medical aid. I pushed down the urge to ask for numbers and turned to the group.

"-Brother Voodoo, Hulk, Moon Knight, Spider-Woman, Dazzler," Spider-Man kept going.

I felt my eyebrow beginning to twitch of its own accord.

"Punisher always takes a shot, Black Cat confuses me, the Lizard has moments…" he turned ponderous and we all stared at him.

"I've never taken a shot at you," Tabitha pointed out and Spider-Man eyed her dubiously.

"Give it time, I seem to inspire violent urges in people, I think's the red in my costume," he said flippantly.

"People! Killer scorpion man, tracker, plan!" I raised my hands.

"Stab him until he stops being a problem," Laura said simply. My twitch was developing into a headache.

"Back up plan, any other suggestions?" I asked.

"Blow him up?" Tabitha offered, knowing full well what she was doing.

"Web them up and substitute terror with quippy lines?" Spider-Man threw in the ring. I pleaded to my council for help and Warrior Sandra stepped forward, giving me ideas.

"I… let me think. You said he had thick plated armor?" I asked Spider-Man as we all stood around in my living room.

"Big honking green plates, the only part of him uncovered is his chin and I can't hit there without risking blowing his jaw off… jaws are fragile," the hero said and Laura nodded sagely as if what he said was extremely deep.

It was almost tempting to tell him to do it anyway, but morals and ethics yadda yadda.

"Any idea of their make?" I continued, the plan almost coming together.

"A poly ceramic, tough and hard to break," came the answer and the last piece snapped into place. I turned to my home and began to collect parts from a mixing bowl, spare junk I kept from the last experiment and turned to Tabitha who looked pale.

"I need either a hundred bee stingers or some really good hypodermic needles… or air plungers," I said firmly.

"This… another mad science thing, right? Like the grater?" she asked, both afraid and excited. I nodded gravely as Spider-Man looked at me with worry.

"Mad science?" he echoed.

"It's not mad… it just shouldn't work," I corrected. That didn't seem to make him feel any better.

I didn't really know what he said in response because my body began to move on its own once more, the purpose of creation overriding my processes once more.

It was less chaotic since I had some basis in the sciences and engineering… but parts before me seemed to almost blur between states of dismantling and assembly. Somewhere between heating the air chambers together and coiling the correct vibrating frequency on the polar directional roads, needles began to appear and plunges which I managed to begin the process of fusing together into a monstrous needle.

How I managed to do that and with what? I had no clue.

I turned when I was done to a shocked Spider-Man, excited Tabitha, and curious Laura. My Atomic Needle wasn't a handheld device like I thought it would be. It was strapped to my forearm by what I think used to be a favorite handbag turned into leather straps. The device looked curved and wicked, like an insect stinger someone had turned into a device. The needle itself only protruded a little in its inert state and the loading chamber for 'medicine' was located at the back, so filling it was a lot like loading a shotgun where I had to snap my hand forward to reveal the chamber.

"Time?" I asked briskly and Tabitha held up her phone.

"Twenty minutes and 43 seconds," she clocked. I just made something that could deliver a flu shot through tank armor… in less than thirty minutes.

Damn.

Still, I was lacking the key to the plan. A strong enough sedative. I had only a basics in chemistry and biology; so the closest thing I had to knowledge of sedatives came from a passing in my spywork and the chants of 'heathen' from Barista Sandra.

Which is why the charge I had been saving for a while was right down handy. I made a new field by selecting Sedatives which Chemist Sandra was deeply interested in and Spy Sandra licked her lips at. Nurse Sandra smoothly absorbed a lot of it too.

The field unfolded with three 'Z's atop one another as a symbol. The field showed me that honestly the strongest sedative I could find in any household was… alcohol? Those tied with antihistamines were some of the most common sedatives around and in large doses could cause liver failure in a normal person, but mixing them could even disrupt the central nervous system in someone.

"Tabitha, do you have beer in your flat?" I asked and Tabitha turned innocent.

"Rum?" she offered with chagrin.

I turned to Laura who stared back for a few seconds.

"Drinking is pointless. Don't see why Logan does it," she finally said and I turned to Spider-Man. He crossed his arms.

"Beer, I drank plenty. Shots too!" he said a little too fast.

I guess I was dancing with death then.

"Get me the rum," I ordered, deciding it was worth the risk right now.

I think I was surprised that ten minutes later, all three of my guests decided I needed to be elsewhere if the battle was going to take place. I squawked in protest as Tabitha led me off to the street as Spider-Man gingerly strapped on my atomic needle device filled with sleeping medication and rum.

Laura inhaled sharply, the relaxing scent of Sandra's home now overrun with rum, burning metal, and Spider-Man. She finally heard the woman's protests fade as Tabby got her somewhere safe; they had taken Emma from their apartment and gone away.

It was better that way.

She turned to the costumed man, his scent of books, sweat, blood, and an inorganic plastic smell she associated with his webs. It was like New York itself had soaked into his costume, smog, food, and trash.

"You need to wash your costume before coming back," Laura said finally and Spider-Man sniffed his armpits.

"The costume is due for a dunking," he admitted and Laura was sure it was overdue.

They began their climb to the roof.

"So… how have you been?" Spider-Man asked as they climbed the stairs.

"I have an apartment now," Laura said succinctly.

"Must be nice…" Spider-Man said, sounding a little envious, but he cleared his throat.

"How's Wolverine?" he asked brightly. Laura tried not to flare her nostrils at 'small talk'.

"Drunk, small, and angry," she said flatly. Honestly, she hadn't seen him in a while, but given the X-Men lifestyle, she'd be lucky if he was on the planet or in this time period. Laura couldn't stand their inability to just stay… still.

And if Logan was having a bad time? He would be wandering the Canadian wild with no memory again, naked and angry and without beer. It happened weirdly a lot to him.

"Cool cool… how's-" he began and Laura turned and held her hand up, hearing… something. It sounded like a grinding tank taking heavy stomps, pistons loading and something with massive pressure gaining traction.

"Move!" Spider-Man yelled, sensing something Laura couldn't but the door was smashed open and Laura stared down at the massive green tail sticking out of her stomach. She began to bleed onto the stairwell and Spider-Man made choking noises before Laura snarled at the surprised man in a scorpion tank-suit.

"That's coming… out of my deposit," she snarled and went for his throat.

"Baby Wolverine! Remember the plan!" Spider-Man yelled as the battle broke out, Laura on top of the attacker as her stomach healed over, pushing him back onto the roof and into the open space.

"It's the back-up plan!" Laura yelled back.

"Crazy girl!" the Scorpion yelled, his tail coming back around to smash into her ribs with unnerving accuracy, sending her crashing along the roof. In the better light, she saw his form was heavily armored, but the suit was designed to allow the man inside to make shocking agile jumps and leaps. The tail curved up behind him, segmented in a weird collapsible manner that allowed it full flexibly of a real tail.

Laura and Spider-Man circled the villain who cracked his neck.

"Coming to take another crack at hurting me, boy?" he asked Spider-Man with a cocky grin.

"Break your hands on my shell?" he taunted. Laura was going to break his skull on concrete in a second…

"Mesosoma," Spider-Man said, coughing. Scorpion turned to him with a confused grunt.

"Scorpions don't have shells, it's more like plates along their body part called a Mesoso-" the hero said and had to dodge abruptly as the tail went for his stomach.

"You might not know your arachnids, but you're as twitchy as a scorpion!" Spider-Man joked, getting the villain to fully expose his back.

What was he doing! He had the needle! He should be waiting for an opening, not making one!

"Over here," Laura snarled and charged, claws extending in tears of skin. The roof was not the best for agile movement, but she skidded under the Scorpion's tail stab as he tried to grab her. He was strong, but he was also a little slower than herself.

She sent a quick look at Spider-Man, warning him to work with her… not off doing his own thing.

The fight was on and Laura needed the Scorpion to keep failing to notice the fact Spider-Man could only use one arm.

"They won't make that much of a mess," Tabitha insisted as we met up with Nico who slunk towards us in the cafe with the posture of a condemned man.

"Who?" Emma asked, looking up from her milkshake.

"Laura and Bob Ross videos; she likes to paint," Tabitha said quickly, making me give an odd look which she shrugged at.

"Oh, what kind of pictures?" Emma asked curiously.

"Red sunsets, red apples, red buildings," came the answer.

"Blue can add depth," Emma said and they broke down into arguments over the value of color as I led Nico outside under the guise of needing to talk about his teacher.

"So… magic and now Spider-Man," I said and he winced.

"Are you mad?" he asked and I sighed.

"Not mad; just a little sad I didn't notice all this before," I admitted as the cold wind blew past us and sirens flew down the street, making my nerves a jumble. Nico made a face.

"Can you be mad instead?" he asked honestly and I snorted.

"No can do, little man… no can do. I just hope Spider-Man's okay," I muttered, eyeing up the street where our building was around the corner.

"Peter's strong, he'll be fine," Nico said and I nodded, distracted.

' Give it a moment,' Logic told Spy and Detective who just nodded.

Wait.

I turned to Nico slowly.

"Peter?" I echoed and he looked startled.

"Did you not… see… when you said you took off his mask… I… mean Pietro, the Russian transfer student we got," he said, going paler than freshly laid snow.

Oh my God… they both sucked at lying.

Spider-Man was Peter Parker. Peter was fighting deadly villains in secret. He was in highschool… he had powers… he was good at being a hero…

Peter, little knobbly Peter, laid dying on her roof.

"Please tell me Gwen isn't Spider-Woman or Mary Jane is an alien," I whispered, my mind snapping pieces together that I think I just refused to accept.

"100% on the first, 60% on the second," Nico tried for humor and I swallowed hard. Nico put a hand on my arm.

"Gotta trust him and he's got Laura with him…" he said, trying to calm me.

I could only jerkily nod, taking my own early advice to heart.

I couldn't be a martyr for Peter hiding who he was and then getting hurt. It did no one any good.

What I could do mother the hell out of him since his Aunt couldn't possibly know this.

I was going to mother him so damn hard.

27: Defanged? Detail!

Peter flipped over a swipe of the deadly tail, idly noting the Scorpion already had a replacement stinger added to his suit.

Given how rash and dumb the guy acted at times; Peter suspected he didn't deal with fixing his own suit.

' Must be so nice to have someone willing to pay for your costume adventures! Imagine all the pocket money I could save if someone replaced my web-fluid for me!' he thought sarcastically as his senses screamed from him to throw himself to the side.

He did so, just in time to avoid his new foe from grabbing him in a bear hug and popping his spine like a twig.

"Sorry, Scorps, I don't kiss until the fifth date," he called, getting a snarl from the Scorpion, but before Peter could be attacked again, Laura was on Scorpion like a wild rabid animal, scratching his suit with her claws.

Peter knew Laura's claws weren't dull, but she couldn't get good leverage to actually pierce Scorpion's suit that well. Not that Peter was complaining; he really didn't want someone else getting blood on their hands because he drew these freaks to him.

Still, this fighting was drawing attention to Miss AeKure's building so with a flick of his wrists, he sent two streams of webbed to Scorpion's back and twisted his body with all he had, lifting the other man, suit and all flying to another roof across the street; sending him rolling across the gravel surface.

Peter got ready to swing across, but stumbled when Laura landed on his back.

"Go!" she barked and he tried not to think of Laura with sideburns and a cigar in her mouth.

"Yes, Ma'am," he muttered and took off, landing on the other roof just as the Scorpion got to his feet, looking none the worse for his little trip.

"You two are beginning to piss me off," he warned, rubbing his jaw, the only exposed part of his costume.

"Just beginning? I thought we were a little further along than that," Peter confessed, adjusting Miss AeKure's needle puncher on his wrist.

"Work with me," Laura hissed quietly and Peter hesitated.

"I am, I'm staying out of your way," he retorted finally and she shot him a look that almost spelled out the words 'idiot' in the air.

"That's not teamwork," she said and took off in a dash, claws exposed as the Scorpion slammed his tail into a nearby vent, using it like a club to swing at Laura.

"That's what everyone else tells me to do!" Peter threw his hands up before following after her with a slower run. He webbed the vent down and covered Scorpion's face with a quick burst of web, letting Laura get in close.

Shame for Scorp; 'close' was Laura's preferred zone of action.

The wild child leapt onto Scorpion, locking his head and arm for a moment, making him reach up to attempt to dislodge her blindly. That left his side wide open for Peter.

He raised the contraption on his wrist and rushed in but at the last second a voice lingered in his mind.

'What if this kills him?'

His slight moment of indecision caused Scorpion to flex slightly, getting leverage to throw Laura with his enhanced strength that almost outdid Peter's. She was sent flying over the edge of the building, getting cries of alarm from the watchers on the street below.

Peter moved without thinking, diving off the building, shooting a web at Laura's chest, the web catching her moments before she hid the ground; lifting the center of her body upwards but her feet and head snapped back brutally.

He landed as people backed off. Laura's head lulled and her eyes were unfocused as she stared up at the sky.

"No… no…" Peter's breath hitched as he reached down but stopped inches from touching Laura as if she was made of glass and his own touch was toxic… destructive. Peter looked down, but something grabbed his throat and he choked as Laura's glassy eyes turned to him.

"Next time… let me hit the ground… a spine is easier than… my skull to fix," she hissed and her nose bled for a moment before she stood up and Peter tried not to gag as Laura's head hung… askew.

People gave a scream as she 'righted' her head and looked up.

Peter was never going to make that mistake again. Laura's sideways head was going to make sure of that. But she was alive!

He couldn't imagine how things might have gone if it was MJ or Harry or Gwen.

"This time, don't hesitate. Things go wrong, I'll let someone take a picture with his body. But you wanting to be a hero inside and out could have killed someone. Your responsibility is to them," Laura jerked her chin to the shocked crowd of normal people watching the scene, "not him," she then nodded to Scorpion who stood on the ledge of the building, heaving up the vent he tore off.

"I'm not a killer," Peter whispered as he got ready to catch the vent.

"He's going to make you one by proxy; now go!" she yelled, jumping and using her foot claws and arms to quickly scale the building before Peter followed behind her.

The weight on his wrist only seemed to grow heavier, but he would deal with that later.

"Let me go first! Circle round!" Peter yelled as he pushed off the building, taking aim and trapping the vent to the building as Scorpion aimed it at him. Laura didn't even stop to nod, she just changed her trajectory to move sideways.

"Next time, I'll throw someone less likely to bounc-" Scorpion began, but Peter's punch to his stomach lifted him off the ground for a moment, breath fleeing Scorpion's body. Peter spun and pressed off the ground with his hands, planting both feet into Scorpion's armored chest.

As Scorpion stumbled back, Peter leapt into the air, firing bursts of web on his legs and arms, trapping him for a moment. Laura stalked into view a second alter, landing on Scorpion to begin slashing at his shoulders and chest, causing deep grooves to appear in the acid green armor.

Scorpion roared and struggled, cracking some of the roof as his tail went to impale Laura.

Peter didn't let him. He appeared between Laura and the incoming stinger, grabbing the tail with both arms and yelled as he pulled with all he had. There came the sound of something like industrial power cables being snapped and metal screeching and the tail came loose in a series of sparks and viscous liquid that had to act as a pseudo-muscle compound that let the tail be flexible, but strong.

Peter threw it aside and for a moment, the Scorpion's tail kept jabbing and recoiling like it was a seperate living being then it went inert, limp like a dead snake.

Then before Peter could become overrun with doubt, he turned and placed the needle against Scorpion's side, worried it wouldn't be able to get through the thick armor for a moment.

The device made a series of clicks when Peter pressed it and at first he thought nothing had happened since he didn't feel any kickback or resistance. Worried, he looked down.

The massive needle simply went into the armor like a hot plasma cutter into butter, injecting the unprotected flesh below. Scorpion's eyes bugged out for a moment before he thrashed wildly.

"What did you… do to me?!" he screamed as he bucked Laura off and began to roll.

"Giving you a taste of your own medicine," Peter said simply as he watched the man roll as his body seemed to be wracked with a series of sensations.

"My skin… it itches! My eyes! They itch! It burns! It… ah… ah…" Scorpion began to slow his frantic movements, slowly trying to crawl away.

"I… feel… tired," he muttered and collapsed face-down in the gravel. A silence passed over the roof, only broken by the sounds of distant sirens and what could be a helicopter coming in.

"We should go. Web him up and let's leave. Police tend to not like Mutants or people doing their job for them… so I doubly piss them off," Laura said with a grim tone.

"Hey, DeWolff isn't that bad! Since she took over, the force has been 'nicer'," Peter said, feeling the need to defend the detective who often gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"Nicer to you," Laura's answer came back sharply and Peter didn't have a counter-argument so he just took her by the waist, definitely keeping his hands to himself as best he could.

Laura didn't need Logan's help to handle men… Peter was pretty sure if someone put a hand on Laura and she didn't want it there?

That person would be missing their hand… arm… some of their face… as a warning.

Still, as scary as Laura was to Peter… he felt things could have been worse without her help. Maybe he owed her an ice-cream?

A… packet of bacon?

Stain remover for blood?

Peter looked a lot smaller outside his costume when he sat on my couch this time. I had to let detectives take pictures of my roof where the fight had broken out. I was both pleased and disturbed that there was a city resource fund to help with practical repairs caused by 'masked people, aliens, and sometimes natural disasters with a grudge'.

I'd get a modest sum to fill in the damaged grooves and patch up stinger holes.

Laura was back in her room, keeping a low profile and I hoped no one connected her to this place since I didn't want her chased away for simply helping out Peter.

I asked Nico to take Emma out for a bit and I could see he was disappointed to the point he almost argued to stay, but I knew this was a conversation that would be easier on Peter and myself alone.

So, we sat here, the little clock in my kitchen area loud as it made us aware of time passing.

"So…" I said and he jumped in surprise as if doing his best to forget I was here for a moment. His brown eyes met mine and I honestly wanted to let him off the hook for a moment, but I knew that wasn't healthy. Peter, as far as I knew, didn't have a single adult supporter in his second life.

I was pretty sure if he kept going like this, he'd rather go home with an injury as the one he suffered today than turn for help and expose himself as Spider-Man. Even if he wasn't a hero; that sort of mentality was going to drive him to be a very lonely person where he both needed to be Spider-Man… and hate Spider-Man for being his life.

"Thank you for coming here when you needed help," I began, deciding to go off soft and he fidgeted.

"I didn't know I was being tracked-" he blurted out and I raised my hand.

"Are you saying you wouldn't have come to get much needed medical aid if you knew about that?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow up. He clammed up for a moment, but the answer was painfully obvious in his eyes.

He would have bled out, trying to fix himself in some alleyway before risking the Scorpion coming near here.

"Walk me through that logic. I don't quite understand," I said gently and I pretended not to notice the occasional longing he sent to the nearby window. He'd have to learn some conversations needed to happen.

"You could have been killed. What if Nico was revealed as a magic user! What if the Scorpion used you as a hostage? What if I passed out and he threatened Emma to make a trade for me if you hid me? My life is dangerous!" he said suddenly, standing as if he could no longer stand still.

I only really had one thing to say in return.

"What if you had died and Scorpion threw you unmasked down to the street? Do you think that would make it any better? That you'd rather die than trust us?" I asked and he flinched. I had to strike fast because I saw now that Peter had to live in a world of 'tough choices'.

Somewhere… somehow, his powers became tangled up in a messy event that caused him to fear ever being relaxed again. It was like Peter suffered some sort of traumatic event early on with his powers that pushed him to constantly run himself ragged, push himself to the limit, risk everything for the moral responsibility of being Spider-Man, and it was killing him on some level.

Sometimes I didn't like having a therapist in my head, rent free, but other times… she was useful.

"It's not about trust. Villains predict me and if I come here too often-" he tried to switch it about going for the 'cool logic' route. Shame for him, I had some serious folks in my psyche.

"They'd run into Laura, Tabitha, the occasional Avenger I have over, Nico's magic powers, and as you saw, I make a mean device if I feel worried. I think it's a little dismissive of you to assume that only you have the power to protect me, not myself," I said coolly, the power of Spy, Detective, and Security backing me up.

Peter held himself and even then I could see his inner-dialogue trying to turn what I said into excuses he could pull away from me; distance himself from getting close. Some people might find the aloofness alluring or the secrets he kept as an excuse to want to know him better, but Peter didn't need that.

I unleashed Logic Sandra to her fullest on him. It was cruel, but sometimes when people where being hardheaded and suicidal, you had to be firm.

"We can make a meet-up point. I even found a lair not far from here. Set up a silent alarm so you go there when injured and I'll meet you there. If it's compromised, they'll be escape routes and more. We could even turn it into a secondary storage space for your gear since you can't have many places to go. If it's dangerous, I'll send Laura down to treat you," I insisted.

I met his eyes and projected nothing but honest and caring emotions.

"I'm not abandoning you because you're acting tough. I don't care about Spider-Man, but Peter Parker is someone I care about and that means you're stuck with me. If you ditch me, I'll get a job at your school or become best friends with your Aunt so I'm always around. Sad to say, you're stuck with me giving a crap," I said, crossing my arms fully.

"I could avoid you and swing about the city," he finally answered a bit sullenly, but I saw something in his eyes appear… hope? Gratitude?

"I know Tony Stark and he'd find it funny to watch me pilot one of his older suits to chase you," I warned and he stared at me.

"Mr Stark let you see his suits?" he asked, voice slightly higher. I felt my eye twitch just a little.

… That was what he got out of that? I had access to the Iron-Man suits somewhat?! Spy Sandra was on it like a tiger on prey.

"Why yes… unfettered access to Stark Tower means I see all their projects along with a few others. If someone was to trust me and work with me… I might be able to get them a guest pass too," I tempted and Peter bit his lip with longing.

"That's…" he said, sitting back down as if the offer was just almost enough.

"I got to drive in a SHIELD commander tank-truck… all their gizmos at my fingertips," I pressed and he swallowed hard.

"… Can I have your phone number?" he finally said and my council cheered, having caught Peter in my web of motherness. I walked over and sat down, putting an arm around his shoulder.

"Jokes aside… I'm here for you. To look over tech, discuss a bad day, or even to just see you. We're not just going to be 'super-inventor' and 'Spider-Man'. Being close to Nico makes you as good as family, so I expect you to come around for dinner sometimes," I said gently and he nodded stiffly.

"Th… Thank you," he whispered back, "for not telling me to stop," he added. I merely smiled while inside the council of Sandras agreed they didn't have enough wine to make that request possible.

Even I had my limits.

"Don't worry about it. Us weirdos need to stick together," I said kindly.

I just held him like that for a little longer, pretending I didn't hear him crying a little.

Later on that evening, I let Peter stay the night in Nico's room after a quick call to his aunt. He surprised me when he slipped into the kitchen about 8pm, letting me know in a very awkward manner he was going to check out a patch of Manhattan he usually patrolled.

It was an olive branch and a tentative step. He wasn't 'asking' for my permission, but he was including me in it instead of sneaking off.

"Let me check your shoulder first," I insisted and he seemed rather happy that was all I was demanding of him. I was utterly baffled at his rate of healing, the once dangerous wound now looking weeks old in a matter of hours. I swear if he had proper medical care, he'd recover from second and third degree burns in a few days…

So, to keep him in the loop and to show trust back. I explained a little of my own power to him as I redressed the wound in clean wraps and tape.

"Woah… super-learning. I could use that on days when the city just doesn't stop catching fire," he admitted, eyes going a little distant at the idea.

"You'd spend any points on costume-design, adhesive, and martial arts," I replied dryly as he slipped his shirt back on. He looked back with a slightly nervous smile.

"Guilty," he admitted.

"Or super niche villain tech that he'd never use again," Nico said as he rooted in the fridge for snacks. I always had leftovers these days.

"Stilt-Man could have been dangerous," Peter argued and I didn't… know how to respond to that so I took my contacts out to show him my slightly glowing eyes as I had a single charge to spend.

To show him what I could do, I put another point into Coffee because I was curious about what would happen when something hit five charges. Sometimes I got tech… sometimes I got a vision… and sometimes I got both.

The star inside my mind of a steam cup of coffee flashed even brighter but then I was elsewhere, a dark void of warmth.

I turned slightly to frozen images, like artwork suspended in the air, their frames made out of the shattered reality around them, giving them a dangerous look. I could walk in this 'void' gallery easily enough, but my steps didn't make a single noise as I did so. The images were like scenes from the different lives of different Sandras. I paused to look at one that injected herself with a syringe as the Hulk attacked her, but it was gray unlike the green one I knew. The image shimmered just a little to show a few seconds of footage.

The Sandra began to also grow, eyes turning feral. Another scene showed Sandra sustaining people in what looked like literal tubes filled with bubbling coffee, injured people that I couldn't see the faces of. As I walked deeper into the 'gallery' the images grew more elaborate until I even saw one Sandra, bending down to a tiny tube surrounded by fantastic machinery where a stone slowly formed in the liquid… the shape now almost intimately familiar, but instead of blue or green… this one was a deep brown.

This was all getting too much so I turned and almost ran into a woman who had my face. She smiled at my shock, raising hands in a soothing gesture.

"Don't panic. First time in the Milestone Mile?" she asked kindly and I just nodded. Was my nose always that slightly squint?

"I don't get many visitors here. Most just use coffee as a quick way to stay awake as they dig into chemistry or advanced power suits… so welcome! I'm Sandra… and you must be Sandra," she said, smiling and I found myself smiling back.

"Y-Yeah, but that's a little confusing," I had to admit and she nodded.

"Custom for the source Sandra to take on their title so you can just call me Barista," she said, letting me keep the name Sandra in this conversation. She led me to a small bench that I was positive hadn't been there before and the images around us changed to different snapshots of Sandras… a lot of them mostly mundane, drinking coffee as they poured over work, maps, computers, robots… and more.

Only a few actually seemed to have coffee as their focus.

"What is… 'Milestone Mile'?" I asked finally. Barista relaxed back.

"Think of it as the nodes where the Sandras drew knowledge from… then return successful ideas back to. The better the idea, the more grand a picture it gets. It's those pictures your knowledge comes from, prior inventions and all that," she explained calmly. She waved a hand and my Hum Pill appeared, the image of me leaning over Tatiana clear, but my frame was about the size of one you could hold in your hands.

She must have seen me looking let down cause she laughed… and I had a nice laugh. I never noticed before.

"Trust me, you'd really struggle to get ideas into robotics or chemistry at this point," she promised, patting me on the shoulder.

"So, why am I here?" I asked finally and she sobered up a little, her mood becoming serious.

"I'm… a culmination of the knowledge. A sort of 'fake' Sandra who was formed to manage all this. Not every field might do this, but I do. I want to give you a warning on what's going to come if you keep going down this path," she said and looked at me seriously.

I just looked at her as she continued. I noticed now she had a soft scent of coffee beans wafting off her.

"Coffee? It starts off simple, but it can be turned into acid, a medicine, a reflex enhancer, poison, mind-control addictive substances, and even develop further down that road to some pretty terrible things," she began, raising one hand then looking at the other.

"However, it can be used to heal, raise morale, sustain the injured, even bring peace to troubled minds, and bring people closer. Such power can be funneled… focused into becoming someone who never sleeps… never rests… someone who could even channel those powers into a concept. You saw it near the end of this gallery… the Energy Stone," she whispered.

She looked me dead in the eyes and said something that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Never let the Energy Stone and Power Stone meet. It just ends poorly," she warned.

"So, you're saying I should stop coffee? Choose something else?" I asked after a moment, feeling a bit cold now. She laughed as if truly amused.

"Sandra, love… you're missing the point. It doesn't matter what you choose. In the end… the most innocuous of concepts taken to an extreme makes you dangerous. Coffee, toys, light, love… it all keeps rising to new levels. You need to be prepared to accept that responsibility if you keep pushing concepts to higher levels," Barista explained and took my hand.

"You have to respect your choices," she stressed.

"I will… I mean I do," I promised and Barista nodded, as if expecting that.

"Us node avatars don't worry about you. Hard to be concerned about the woman who is the concept personified of 'family first; world second'," she had to admit.

"Who do you worry about?" I asked and Barista pointed and I followed her finger to someone that no longer looked like us both. Short hair and a mess of scars on her face, she had a bionic arm on one side and a series of tools on her waist as she threw herself into a chaotic mess battlefield, her eyes flashing deep blue.

"Sandras like her. All that matters to her is the charges," Barista whispered.

With that, I snapped back to my reality, my head filled with the knowledge of medicinal coffee-like strains and unique blends I knew could be found elsewhere… in space.

As if I could just borrow a spaceship and go harvest them.

I also got some new tech ideas to go along with it.

"Tada?" I offered lamely as my eye-glow died down. I was a little distracted as the ideas came to me for a hand-held tool that if flipped would unleash a coil of burning coffee that I could whip, as if the coffee were a solid substance and not liquid, it could also be used to control coffee around me to a degree. The other blueprint showed off a large scanner for coffee, a sort of tabletop map that would dot all the hot coffee around me in certain distance.

I thought that was a bit niche…

Then things began to snap together in my mind, old blueprints with the new. The S-tracker I had from Detective broke down to rearrange itself with the coffee map, giving me a dry coffee powder to produce if drank would remain in the system for 12 hours and I could track with my map specifically, the more coffee they drank, the easier I could track. I think it was almost the entire length of New York too in terms of distance I could follow.

The Condiment blasters I got early from cooking also split apart, rearranging them into a high-pressure coffee manipulator with my new whip. It was bulkier than the condiment set, but it allowed me to finely control coffee into shapes and even lift myself with it.

Barista wasn't kidding when she said things would start to ramp up… I could serious do some damage with my trackers or assassination with my coffee control.

"Is she okay?" I dimly heard Peter ask Nico.

"She's thinking of weird things to make. It's awesome," Nico replied.

I wondered if Peter wanted to be Java-Spider for a day? Test me devices for me?

Caffa-Spider? Jitter-Bug? Awake-Man!

… I'd think on the names a bit before offering. Finance and Law knew that good branding was important.

28: Stitch of a Suit. Ties of a Family.

Peter laid out his 'spare costume' the next day. I just happened to have the day off, so I watched him unfold a stinking torn up costume that looked like it had been put through a blender.

"I never found this base, but I haven't seen Kraven wear some of this stuff in years so I think it's a good place to store things," Peter tried to be conversational as I lifted his costume and was able to stick my entire hand through a tear along the side.

"Oh, that was from the Vulture, he just loaded up with his feather-knives, but the one on my chest was when Shocker launched me through a subway wall one time and I scraped along the rebar, and the one is from when Kingpin tried to run me over with his car," Peter said, pointing out the various holes and rips with perfect recall and each time he did, my blood pressure grew higher.

"Have you tried padded layering?" I finally asked as I shifted a few of the flashlights in the place around to give me more light. Some of Kraven's electrical work blew out years ago, but I could fix them given time.

Peter shook his head as he ran a hand over his spare costume.

"Too bulky. The stuff I found either slows me down or impairs my movement. I just… never had time to figure out a chemical solution that wouldn't just wear off and cost me more to replace," he admitted. Thinking, I ran through my various fields for ideas.

The only things to really give me feedback was Mechanical Engineering, Chemistry, and Weapon-mods, but the ideas either lack execution or only turned his costume into a slow hunk of metal which was no good.

"I can at least wash this and repair it if you leave it here," I offered, not liking how useless I felt in the ideas department right now, and Peter spluttered, trying to explain how he was decent at sewing now, only needing an hour or so to do one side these days.

I gave him a look and he stopped, inhaled, then nodded.

"I would appreciate it. If you need things to do the job, I can swing by a store for you on the way back from a patrol," he offered and I nodded before ushering him away to set up his chemistry set which he used to make his web fluid. We had cleared out one of the corner's of Kraven's stuffed bear trophy and found a decent airflow vent to set up the stuff.

The whole place was still 'jungle fever', but I had hope we'd turn it into a proper Spider-Lair given time!

The way Peter talked about was that he didn't really 'need' a base of operations as he was a mobile worker, but I argued that having an emergency supply of costumes, web fluids, extra web shooters, and more could reduce the long term stress for him.

I silently was already planning on adding a sleeping area and medical bay. I turned to the costume, a charge from this morning bouncing about my head.

Sewing? Costume repair? Maybe costume maintenance?

The possibilities were endless.

I settled on Tailoring because I remember when the Ex-Husband got suits or more elaborate dress pants, the workmanship the men did for them was almost too good for a guy like Jack.

"And I hope you're having a shitty day, dear," I quietly sent 'well-wishes' to Jack as was custom when I thought about him.

The charge glowed, the star glowing to reveal a measuring tape and stool.

The first thing to become clear to me was that despite fumbling and not sounding confident, Peter's costume could pass, at a distance, as well-made. The boy had an eye for design and it showed. It was… not fitted at all right and there was so much obvious damage and weak points in the seam that it would likely needed replaced in a year or less.

The second was I learned what I thought I knew about stitches and clothing? It was either completely wrong or woefully incomplete. There were over thirty, minimal, stitching styles alone and a portion of them required a machine to make possible. These were the 'common' known styles with perhaps hundred more existing in different cultures and countries.

I got a decent start in the Running Stitch and a smattering of practice in others such as the Cross Stitch, the Back Stitch, and even something called the Slip Stitch. The knowledge compounded into fabrics and even styles of suits, the main three coming off as American, Italian, and UK styles.

The issue before was that Peter had used a form of spandex to make his costume. Elastic and stretchable for the maneuverability I had to presume. It wasn't the worst thing, but it was going to push my new skills to their limit to repair without bungling the job. I might need to put a second charge into Tailoring to be sure I finished it with a good job.

The one thing I knew for sure? These had to be hand washed otherwise they would shrink or lose their elasticity. I got started with a small sewing kit Peter had brought with him and a bunch of spare material he had, made up of old wrestling unitards that he bought cheap. I didn't do much other than tried to get my fingers used to the nimbleness my mind demanded of it. I stabbed my finger tips far too many times for me to proudly admit it to anyone.

In about ten minutes, I had sealed up some tiny gaps in his gloves, the red thread only a shade darker or two than his actual costume so no one would notice. It was good practice and I turned to see Nico and Peter having a good laugh as a batch of failed fluid foamed up and stuck to their hands for a moment. I smiled, but didn't interrupt them. I turned back to the costume and was happy to see my cleaning skills, as broad as they were, could whip the suit before me into a bearable state. The trick was some hot water, squeezed lemons, and if I had a spare car air freshener, I chucked that in too.

The problem being is that Kraven's water supply wasn't working so I would need to follow the pipes sometime soon to see where exactly I could divert them from. Building Maintenance helped there a little, but it wasn't the right skill for that job.

I'd have to cobble together some investigation, building maintenance, and perhaps even some stolen tidbits of Mechanical Engineer.

Another thing to add to my growing list of things that I, Super-Mom, needed to get done… eventually.

I smiled as I handed the keys over to a nice looking kid. My new tenant seemed to be a quiet sort. He didn't really set off any alarms as far I could tell.

"If you need anything, Mr Brown, just come knock on my door or find me at work if it's really bad," I offered and the man shook my hand.

"Not a worry, Miss AeKure. I… can't believe how cheap this place is. I keep expecting to see bodies strung on the walls or ghosts coming out the woodworks," he admitted, rubbing his hands as if to ward off such an event.

"Would you still live here?" I asked and he snorted.

"I'd pose them to look better and greet the ghosts personally for this price," he grinned in return. I let him get settled on the second floor as I returned back to my place to put away my copy of the rental agreement. He even had the security deposit!

"Who's the new renter?" Tabitha asked as she walked down from the roof, her tank top low and a towel over her arm as she seemed to have been sunbathing. I hope she had sunscreen on…

It took me a moment to recall his name.

"Hobie Brown; window washer. Nice enough," I said and Tabitha pursed her lips.

"Cute?" she pressed.

"Polite," I said and she leaned in closer.

"Tappable?" she insisted.

"He's only a few years older than Nico or Peter! Tabitha!" I said, waving her off with a flare of my nostrils. She sighed.

"Sandra, you need to live a little. You're always working. You need a suitor, that's what they call them in your age right, a suitor to distract you." Tabitha before she thought about it.

"Or screw that. Go on a trip by yourself. Be a sexy singlet that could have anyone she wants but chooses to be untouchable… man; that sounds sexy," Tabitha hummed as she imagined it, likely as herself playing some femme fatale role.

"Sure, let me pack for the exotic land of 'Nico's school' or 'Work'," I said sarcastically, opening my door. Tabitha perked up with a slow smile.

"Oh, you have a thing for teachers, a teacher kin-"

I shut the door in her face, drowning out her next words. I was just about to relax when Tabitha spoke through the crack between the door and the floor, likely having pressed herself to the ground to do so.

"You can't run from natural urges, Sandra AeKure!" she warned ominously.

"I can run from you!" I yelled back, fighting off a damn smile. Tabitha Smith was such a pain in my ass.

I turned and nearly leapt out my skin as I saw Laura scrubbing my sofa with Emma, the foamy substance going at the bloodstain Peter left behind the day before.

"Emma let me in," Laura said simply as she kept scrubbing.

"She didn't want to sunbathe," Emma explained just as simply.

"I was going to… wash that," I said and Laura looked up at me.

"Spider-Man's blood is better washed off sooner than later. For health reasons," she said without explaining what those reasons were.

"It smelled a bit funny," Emma agreed, pleased to be involved in something interesting with Laura. I think Emma really looked up to Tabitha and Laura. I was sure I felt a mix of horror and warmth that they were getting along so well.

"Well, I'm going to start cooking for the big dinner tonight. Laura is there anything you want me to avoid cooking for your sense of smell?" I asked the girl politely and she shook her head.

"I've smelt worse things than you can imagine. Your cooking always smells nice… I open my window when you cook," she said quietly and I blinked a little. She was two floors down, but I guess her sense of smell was that good.

"Do you have a favorite meal?" I asked gently and Laura scrubbed for a few seconds before she paused to think about it.

"… Apple pie," she said finally and I was going to make her a pie tonight.

I mentally counted my guests as I figured out portions. Tony, his assistant Pepper, Steve, Bruce, Natasha if she was available, Tabitha, Laura, Nico, Emma… and Peter if he showed up.

For a normal chef, this might make their knees shake, but I had evolved past that.

I had become… Homo-Chef-prior.

I slowly laid the mix of Braeburn, Cortland, and Honey Crisp apples covered with little flour, sugar, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, and vanilla into the crust I had made earlier. The second dough becoming a firm soft white lattice that would crisp in the oven to a perfect level. The entire apartment smelt of cooking meat, rich sauce, apple pie, frosting, and more.

I checked on the starter of a soft creamy mushroom soup with hints of pepper and salt, a delicious golden bread cut into slices beside it, ready for dipping as the soup bubbled gently off to the side.

The main dish was going to be a beef bourguignon that I had simmering in sauce. The beef I chose was brisket, the meat succulent and ready to fall apart in one's mouth as it soaked up the butterfly garlic and red wine sauce. The meat glistened with juices and the potatoes and side portion of vegetables were set to be ready any moment.

As I finished up to go get changed into something that didn't resemble someone working over a stove all day, I got another charge that hummed pleasantly in my mind. I thought about what I needed.

More tailoring, cooking was always good, security wasn't bad…

But what I might want was maybe something fun if I couldn't decide on something…

As I washed my hands, the foam of the soap between my hands made a large soap bubble and when it popped it made me smile. Could I put a point into bubbles?

I knew there were more important things to use points for, but like clockwork, it wasn't about doing a job or pushing myself. I just… wanted to enjoy my powers and its weirdness as the stress of dinner built.

It turned out I could develop into that field. The universe was truly amazing. I closed my eyes as the knowledge flooded into my brain, teaching me that the amazing things I could make with some soap, water, and my hands were incredibly complicated processes of chemistry, physics, and natural wonders.

I got a brisk education in the Marangoni effect, the famous 'tears of wine' experiment, and an even briefer education on something called Nucleation which surprised me. The structure of a bubble to explain how it encapsulated gas or liquid… how the thin surface tension was the glossy thing everyone saw.

I raised my hand, cupping it in an odd manner before I blew out the biggest bubble I had ever managed.

While it popped moments later, the bubble of joy inside me didn't.

Steve arrived first, despite Tabitha and Laura living in my building. He brought a chilled bottle of white wine and a small potted plant for my apartment. He looked a little tired, but also pleased to just be sitting down to a good meal.

"Busy?" I asked and he hesitated before exhaling.

"More than I like. If I'm not raiding a base or two, I'm still coming to grips with how the world's changed," he admitted. I led him to the roof where I set out a massive folding table since there was no way I was getting eleven people into my apartment. There was only one set of stairs to climb and the air was nice, but not cold thankfully.

I had set up some thin walls with lattice wood works and umbrellas in case people tried to take pictures of Tony or Steve. Speaking of the man, Tony arrived next with his friend Pepper. I was glad he got a cab and not a limo… or flew in via Iron-Man armor… or landed with a helicopter…

Or whatever else Tony could think of.

His casual suit, under my new observant eyes, made me nearly toss my apple pie in shock. While rumpled (something that was going to drive me mad), the suit itself was professionally prepared with excellent stitch work and materials that likely cost an arm and leg.

He wore something like that to my party?!

"Why does she look like she wants to stab me?" Tony asked, pointing at me with a finger, moving behind Pepper for protection.

"Have knowledge of suits… your suit is… rumpled," I gritted out and Pepper sighed, but shook my hands.

"Thank you so much for the invitation," she managed before leaning into whisper to me.

"I only managed to get him showered and sober, the suit was the best I could do in a short notice," she said apologetically and I decided Miss Potts must have 'Patiences 10' for her power.

"Yeah, it's a bit stuffy," Tony admitted and chucked the jacket on a chair roughly that made some part of me scream as if he was tossing about a priceless royal crown.

"You wear a giant suit of metal. You can't complain about stuffy," Natasha said, appearing from behind one of the wood lattices and I stared at her as she took a seat in a beautiful dress that went down to her knees but when she shifted, showed off one long pale slender leg to the night air. She had her hair done up messily, but also… annoyingly tasteful.

"Did you just grapple hook up to my roof?" I asked suspiciously to Emma's delight. She loved grappling hooks.

"Fire escape, the nice girl on the third floor that I definitely don't know from any profile lowered it for me. I prefer… back entrances," she smiled and it was almost a real one.

The 'nice' girl was Laura so I supposed they had a 'moment'.

"Hi… also here," Bruce said and I looked past Tony to see him hesitating at the stairway door.

He was wearing a brown suit with a low-color shirt and no tie, his messy hair looked to have been combed, but it was tossed up from his nervous fidgeting.

His suit was a rental. The sight made me both happy and sad.

Sad that he didn't own any, probably due to his lack of social life or desire to be alone… and happy to be bothered to get one for the event.

"Come in," I smiled and patted to a nice open space near the end of the table with lots of cover and easy space to duck into if he needed a quick breather.

So, that meant that the only people missing were…

"Sorry, took forever to get out of the store," Tabitha announced, slamming down a box of doughnuts, her contribution to the dinner. She wore big spangly earrings, a large peace sign necklace, an acid green dress with purple lace up the front and go-go boots. Her hair was done up in streaks of color and she had so many rings on her hand she glittered in the low light.

I think I went blind cause I had to blink away tears as she moved closer and her ensemble shimmered like a bad acid trip.

I was almost afraid to look at Laura, but she walked in, looking mostly normal as she usually did, but she had removed her hoodie and pulled her hair back which I think for Laura was akin to putting on a ball gown and with a tiara.

Her eyes went straight to the still steaming apple pie on the table and then her dark eyes flicked to me, an emotion going through them so quickly I couldn't tell if it was surprise or acceptance.

"Young lady, you need to tell me where you got that outfit, my friend here, the lovely Miss Potts needs to know," Tony said to Tabitha as sat down opposite him and my sense of dread grew faster than when Scorpion was coming to my house. Tabitha rolled her tongue before smirking.

"Call me a lady again and I'll make you wear it," she winked. Tony seriously considered it.

"We're not the same size," he pointed out.

"Pain of a woman is never having the right size but making it work anyway. I'm sure big tough Tony Stark can squeeze in a dress if he wanted it enough," Tabitha challenged, spearing a piece of bread for her soup as I passed the bowls out.

"Children," I warned and they both turned to me, a wisecrack on their lips.

"Don't," I warned, making meaningful looks at the cake I made.

Wisely, they both returned to hissing insults at each other.

"I need a DNA test," Pepper muttered as she watched Tabitha and Tony go at it, neither giving ground to the other. Weirdly, Laura was a little cowed as she sat next to Bruce and Natasha. She sniffed once but she didn't meet either of their eyes.

"So, Laura, do you study?" Bruce asked kindly. Laura thought about it for a moment.

"… Privately educated then self-taught with some help from a family member," she decided to say. Natasha's lips curved up but she didn't speak her mind.

"-Then I said it violated my right of freedom. I argued homework was supplementary, not legally mandatory!" Emma said to Steve who nodded gravely at her.

"It's true, but sometimes, we must take on extra work to show teachers we truly care. Sometimes, teacher's don't have all the time they need to cover things and they don't get paid well… still," he added with a frown.

"Yeah, that's why Mom asked me if I have homework everyday… I hate lying to her and she knows that," Emma whined just a little.

"Mother's know best," Steve grinned and looked at me, raising his Beef meal.

"It's delicious and the company is great," he toasted his orange juice to Emma who toasted back. It was weird he brought wine, but didn't drink himself, but that was Steve's choice in the end.

I looked at Peter and Nico, the two boys having been here from the start. They were gorging themselves on meat, cheese, soup, and dessert at a rapid pace.

"Sandra, stop hovering and sit down. You make the place look respectable," Tony said and his tone was joking but I think he was dead serious.

"Seriously, let us dish the food out. This is amazing," Pepper promised me as I slowly sank down between Emma and Laura. I felt I should keep serving, but…

"I'd like the company," Bruce said and… damn, how was I supposed to say no to that?

I spent a wonderful night with friends and family… the food rapidly vanished, leaving only good conversation.

I smiled as I overheard Bruce and Tony talk about AI coding and theory with Peter, Natasha and Pepper talking quietly as Laura and Tabitha grouped up with Nico to talk about that 'hunky' Hobie Brown on the second floor.

I caught Bruce's eye once or twice as the conversation went on and to my relief, he seemed… happy to be here.

Everyone did… well I didn't know about Natasha, she still out did my skills combined to have the perfect poker face.

I looked up to see Tony walking about with Tabitha's dangly earrings, no shame to the man at all.

"Do I look hot, Pepper?" he asked, posing slightly. Pepper looked at him and sipped her wine very slowly… and deliberately.

"I'm all the rage with these," Tony argued.

Tabitha walked the other way, Tony's suit jacket on her shoulders.

"Best trade ever," she told Laura. The slightly wild Mutant stared at her friend and frowned.

"It smells of unwashed man, alcohol, and grease," she pointed out. Tabitha squealed and hugged it tighter.

"New bathrobe!" she exclaimed and the idea of that jacket reduced to a moisture soaking towel hurt me. Not deeply, but effectively.

I shook my head as Steve told Emma of a woman called 'Peggy' and how it meant Emma could be strong too, no matter what anyone said. Emma patted his massive arm.

"She sounds awesome. But I'd never let something as silly as boys tell me I couldn't ride a tank into battle," she promised and Steve smiled, using a hand to hide how amused he was.

"Peggy would promote you on the spot," he promised.

Sometimes life was like a bubble… all the good things coming close together before it popped and things had to go back to normal.

Tonight, I basked in my bubble of connections.

I lived for this and I would fight for this.

29: Civil Discussion. Demons in the Night.

The Lion of York said:

Two back to back chapters? We're not worthy!

Click to expand…

Click to shrink…

oh you are.

As the party quieted down, I had a small audience of Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Natasha in my apartment as I retrieved the laptop from my secret lair. Natasha nodded in what could have been approval that I didn't keep it in the building, but if she actually knew about my little hideout was unknown. I suppose it was better to presume she did.

"I remember that thing, Howard Stark carried it everywhere," Steve said quietly… gravely. I tried not to send him a sympathetic look; he looked like he really didn't want to be the focus of the subject despite being the living proof of concept of the experiment contained within the laptop.

Tony booted it up, rubbing one side of the laptop like an old friend, fingers tracing old nicks and scrapes as the machine hummed to life.

"Been awhile, you hunk of junk. I knew a dozen of your brothers, but I don't think I ever met you," he murmured to himself as the thing booted up to the operating system and file directory. Just like before, as Tony clicked files, the intense encryption popped into view but Tony connected his phone to the thing through a series of adapters and spoke into his phone a second later.

"JARVIS, go for it," he said and the laptop beeped as files began to open on their own and close of their own accord and on Tony's phone, programs so advanced they made my head spin began to run scripts.

" Sir, attempting to break the protection on one file will take a minimum of two hours, unknown time estimated for all 50,456 files of note worthy nature, far longer for all-" JARVIS but Tony just cleared his throat.

"Thanks buddy," he said and closed his phone. There was a long pause as I stood there awkwardly.

"Damn it, Dad," Tony said, shoving his phone into his pocket before he turned to me.

"Listen, SHIELD won't let you keep this," he began and Natasha shot him a look that said 'don't you dare', but Tony ignored her.

"I have legal powers to keep it, I'm giving you a big sum to compensate you for this laptop, but keeping it is out of the question. If anyone learns you have the potential Super Soldier serum on this thing? You'd be plunged into hell," Tony warned and I had never seen him so damn serious.

"SHIELD can unlock it a lot faster," Natasha spoke up as Bruce stepped out from between them. Tony shot her a cool look.

"I don't think SHIELD needs super soldiers on their pay. If I discover the formula or process is there, I'm burning it," Tony stressed and the room suddenly turned tense. I tried not to finger my phone which had copies of those very files. I had been planning to use them as practice trials for my growing computer skills, but I decided that wouldn't calm anyone down if I admitted to having them.

"SHIELD can use people with some power; every day we're getting outgunned and outpowered by genetics, aliens, and gods," Natasha argued, leaning on the back of my sofa with both hands.

"We have power, they're just too busy running across rooftops stopping purse snatchers or working under goofy fringe teams," Tony fired back.

"Yeah, not much we can do there unless we make a proper law controlling such people and give them oversight," Natasha exhaled, arms crossed. Her words caused a mixed reaction. Tony turned ponderous as the idea flowed through him. Steve looked mildly outraged at the idea of such 'control', and Bruce just looked sad.

"Oversight is a strong word, but maybe just starting with making people public could go a long way to structure building a future with people like that," Tony mused aloud. I immediately thought of Peter.

"No!" I blurted out. All eyes turned to me.

I had a few seconds to form words and I had to make them good.

"You're ignoring prior history; it's why retired spies and also agents that go to a public sector keep their records sealed," I said slowly, begging Lawyer Sandra to squeeze more out of her knowledge.

"Revenge and bad blood don't care about regulations. Villains who have unfettered access to those who have been making their lives hell for the last five or ten years won't just ignore a chance to end it. Most of them are insane. There has to be a grandfather clause or some sort of method to protect masked heroes first," I pointed out, managing to only sound half-alarmed.

"And those who choose to use their power for good shouldn't be marched before a court for holding the line until Earth can ready itself," Steve added, voice firm like stone. I guess I should just stick with Steve if any arguments went down, he and I seemed to be in agreement.

"Can we all stop with the doom talk? Maybe we shouldn't get involved in politics since we saved the world from an alien invasion. Maybe stick to that?" Bruce offered tentatively.

Tony mulled it over before he perked up.

"Bruce, my dad might have left notes about AI projects he was working on. It'd be way out of date, but still, there could be some gems we could use," he pointed out, holding the laptop excitedly.

The tension broke as Natasha and Steve shared an uninterested look and Bruce lit up.

I was now down one laptop, but up a lot of money…

That was a lot of money…

All I could think was how I could paint the building a nicer color and get fresh chemical refills for Peter's web-shooters or new plants for Nico!

I could spoil them all rotten!

Kurt Connors looked up as Harvest Manufacturer's spoke woman, Miss Pines, strode into his expensive looking lab.

Kurt didn't… dislike the woman, but there was something about her that didn't sit right with him. But he could never figure it out.

' Cold… '

Kurt shook his head as the stray thought crossed his mind. He was getting more distracted by these thoughts all the time.

"Miss Pine, how are you?" he asked as she stood there in a business suit that could rival the cost of some of his equipment in price. She smiled, but it didn't reach her ice-blue eyes.

"Doctor Connors, I am well. How goes the work?" she asked smoothly without asking how Kurt was… as if she either didn't care or already knew. Kurt looked down at the plant he was working on.

Botany wasn't his forte, but thankfully they found ways to make his work in genetics viable even here.

"As expected; we're still working through different strains of vines and seaweed to find the best species but I think we'll have it narrowed down shortly," he said brightly and Miss Pines did actually seem interested in his work which put her above the other business people wandering the halls at any given time.

However, no matter how he felt about the people, Harvest Manufacturers were a head above Oscorp in the work environment. The usual backstabbing, betrayal, and work theft just was not tolerated.

Surrey Pines ran the business with an iron fist of fairness.

"Good. We'll be running some testing phases with the beta-results; to show we're making progress. The plants ability to absorb pollution from the bottom of the various rivers is sub-optimal, but the public needs a show," Pines said casually.

Kurt was careful about how he asked his next question; something that he had wanted to ask but could never find the right words to ask without coming off as rude.

"Why use plants? Wouldn't machines be better suited for the complex work needed that this company has planned?" he finally just went for it. Surrey Pines tilted her head like a predator owl.

"Simple, Doctor Connors," she said as she turned to leave his lab.

"Plants listen. Machines obey," she said in an odd tone and walked away. Kurt stared and went back to testing his new strain. In a matter of seconds, the plant doubled in length without developing obvious cancers or mutations.

A third success of a hundred failures… Kurt was closing in on the correct formula.

I awoke to a brand new day, waving my kids off to school as I buzzed about the place cleaning and picking up mess I didn't see the night before. As I got ready, my mind buzzed with a single charge. I decided now that the dinner party was over, I should get on with my promise to Agatha.

She wanted some weird wood carving of a crow with 'druidic' runes on it so I had my work cut out for me. The first thing I needed was an idea on how to turn a chunk of wood into a shape so I reached out for woodcraft, the star shining as a paring knife on a stick.

As expected, what I got from the skill was a lot more than a much broader term like carpentry or wood building.

Woodcraft showed me the more artistic aspect and design concepts of smaller wooden objects instead of learning to say something like a frame for a shed or building a trojan horse. I got a basic education in the best kinds of wood to work with such as ash, cherry, birch, and… mahogany. I quickly moved through the common tools such as clamps, the claw hammer, chisels and more.

I could make a pretty basic crow figurine, but it wouldn't blow someone's mind if they saw it. To be fair… if I was too rushed, it'd come out looking like a seagull, not a crow. It'd need just one more charge in it to get it to an 'acceptable' quality. This was Nico's magical education. I wasn't going to hand in subpar work and risk him being kicked out. I would never forgive myself if he lost this chance because I was too busy putting charges into 'super powersuits' or 'smoothies that can kill'.

I looked down at my hands at the apple I had 'carved' into a butterfly.

One step at a time.

Mr Geoff finally let me clean the damn coffee machine, clearing out its various tubes and nozzles. The man did a great job with the surface level stuff, but if you didn't know how the machine was put together… well, a lot of issues were out of sight.

My coffee sat at a charge of 5. I knew coffee machines like the back of my hand unless they were brand new or from space. I took out what seemed to be a few dislodged coffee beans that sprouted on their own and de-cheesed some of the back pumps that were becoming grimy. There was a fraying tube, but that was easily fixed with some flex tape that I carried in my bag.

I stood back as I poured an experimental cup of coffee, the usual groan of the machine was more akin to a purr and the liquid came hot piping out and more like how it should be with proper milk proportions.

Mr Geoff grunted and slipped me five twenty-notes. I tried to refuse but he gave me a look before speaking.

"You do the work, you get the pay. Pour coffee, get paid. Fix machine, get paid," he said with a set tone. Mr Geoff was what some would call 'good people'. I accepted the money and got back to working the counter.

At this point, even if I could open my own coffee shop… I just didn't want to. A good boss could do that I suppose. People didn't quit jobs, they quit bad work environments and bad bosses. Since I started working here and the average customer rate had increased, Mr Geoff had already increased the workers' pay without fanfare.

I'd scrub moldy milk off machines for the pay alone, the good boss aspect just made it better.

At the end of the night, I exited the back of the store, carrying heaps of trash to the dumpster and struggling a little as I also had large cardboard boxes under my arm. I could take two or three trips, but this was a pride thing now.

I was a strong woman!

The issue came when I stared at the closed dumpster, pondering if I could use my foot to lift it when something smacked the top of the dumpster and it lifted.

"Allow me," came Peter's voice from above. I followed the trail of web to see the teen sticking to the side of the building. I smiled and threw the garbage in before fanning myself.

"My, the legendary Spider-Man, helping me? Gosh, I am honored," I said in a high tone. He flipped to land next to me, posing a little heroically.

"All in the name, Ma'am! Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man," he promised. He really did have some sort of confidence boost when he was in the costume; it was so adorable.

"Wait here," I said and snuck inside, returning a minute later with a hot cup of coffee and a bagel for him. His heroic attitude dropped to an eager puppy as he accepted the free offerings.

"Miss A, you are the best!" he proclaimed.

"Yeah, cooling coffee and a stale bagel is really a grand feast," I said dryly as I swept the back door entrance, stalling to have a conversation. I was ahead of schedule, already having wiped down most things and set the machine to clean, so I could dabble for a few minutes with Peter.

"You forget that 'free' just makes most things taste good," Peter countered and it was really amazing to see him stick to walls up close.

"How's the swinging going?" I asked and he almost choked on his coffee before managing to answer.

"Patrolling! Call it patrolling!" he insisted before clearing his throat nervously as if someone might have overheard.

"A dozen purse snatchers. One jewelry store robbery stopped. And even a carjacking! Don't see many of them anymore," he said casually.

This boy deserved so much more than a bagel.

"And how's… education?" I asked, being vague on purpose.

"A few papers due, but I got time tonight to finish them off- ah damn, my English essay!" Peter groaned as he suddenly remembered that thing I sure Nico was cursing at a few days ago.

I didn't lecture him. I simply nodded to the open alley for him to take off.

"Head to my place. I got leftovers and you can ask Nico to help your brush up before you head home. You can call home and say where you are," I said quietly and Peter hesitated.

"I usually do another hour's patrol just to be sure…" he trailed off.

"You're going to make the cops feel useless. Go," I said with a small laugh and he finally nodded.

"Thanks… for everything," he said before he ran, closed the dumpster easily on the way past, and took off swinging like an acrobatic ninja.

If any rubber masked creep or mugger tried to ruin his study night?

I was bringing back the atomic needle.

I walked into my building not long after and someone had turned the lights in the hall off, not a big deal during the day, but it was a little creepy at night. I moved to the location where the switch was and something moved in the shadows.

I froze, noticing the blur was humanoid, but the proportions were all wrong. I turned slowly.

"Laura?" I called gently, but got no answer. Something filled my nostrils, unpleasant and out of place. I could feel movement behind me, a combination of spy senses, my martial arts, and a sixth sense of being a woman in New York walking alone. I turned, swinging my handbag with all I was worth, getting a decent thump into the thing as it cried out in surprise, one hand on the door out. I kept swinging, landing meaty thunks on the thing.

"Not in my house!" I yelled and the lights came on as Tabitha rushed down the stairs.

"Sandra no!" she cried as the light revealed… a blue… demon… man covering his face. We stared at each other.

"I am most sorry for the startling you. I tried to leave without upsetting you… I didn't make it," he spoke with a lovely accent, but he was still blue, but what was worse was his demeanor and expression.

He was truly regretful.

"I am… so sorry," I whispered, feeling like a thug who attacked this poor man for no reason even if he startled me. He just smiled at me as he stood up.

"No no… I have endured much worse, but your handbag skills are most proficient," he said, a large fanged smile as Tabitha sighed behind us.

"Sandra, this is Kurt. He was visiting me. I told him to go out the window, but no, he just had to take the stairs," she said and Kurt gave her a grin.

"Stairs are novel when you are me!" he promised. I touched his face reflectively and he flinched, making me draw back.

"Will you let me get you some ice? I feel terrible," I said and he quickly hid a look of surprise behind a polite smile.

"How could I refuse a pretty lady, hm?" he said and held his arm out for me to take. Tabitha pointed a finger at him.

"Don't seduce my landlady, Kurt," she warned and I gave her a puzzled look when she was the one pushing me to date.

"We used to date," she said flippantly. Kurt flicked his tail… he had a tail.

"Was it dating? I remember us running in terror a lot," he responded. Tabitha actually had to think about it.

"It was something, but hands off Sandra… the X-Men are chaos and I like my life here now," she warned. Kurt winced but he didn't quite defend his… team?

"Well… Headmistress Frost doesn't do things by half," he agreed and walked me to the bottom of the stairs where we suddenly weren't there for a moment.

I felt between worlds… I felt in a world inside a world…

I arrived at the top of the stairs with an audible displacement of air and gas and my eyes lit up with a searing headache.

I stared at Kurt whose smile dipped when he looked at me.

"Miss, your nose," he said and I felt it drip with blood as my mind burst with three chaotic charges, none of them feeling natural. They didn't want to sit still. I barely could control them as one flew into Chemistry, one into Woodwork, and the final into Law without my say so.

I stared at him as I began to tremble. I had spent two points before, and it always ended up with me having a vision.

I had never spent three points at once.

"Oh… fiddlesticks," I said before I collapsed into darkness.

30: Me and You. You and Me.

I was standing in a river, submerged in a moving stream that pushed against my skin, my face, my mind… it pushed against who I was. I took a step forward and it was like trying to walk against an immense pressure; a barrier of force that was neither physical or symbolic, but somewhere in between.

Around me, ghosts walked in the other direction, going with the flow as they faded in and out of the stream, nothing substantial to hold them here longer than a moment as they moved down the countless splitting paths of this place.

I don't know why I was here… I don't know why I was stuck here. I tried to let go, to float away with the others, but I was weighed down by substance… a tangibility. All I could do was take more steps forward to the supernova at the core of this place.

All roads lead to Rome.

Well… all rivers drained in and out of that glowing nebula. It was almost too painful to keep going, but slowly something began to light my way forward, a familiar glowing star constellation of a glowing mug.

My coffee knowledge. It was solid and I latched on to it like a lifejacket. Having it in my grasp made me stable and let me see that the rivers were not all calm. A few of them boiled with overflowing energy, massive ghostly women emerging from them in agonizing screams as they forced themselves to manifest in this place… others did the opposite, drying up as if some vital anchor had been snuffed out or the river became polluted with something.

There were so many different events going on that from my 'fringe' side of this place, I couldn't even imagine seeing them all. Not in a hundred or even thousand lifetimes.

I kept walking.

'… didn't know what to do… ' a voice came and went so quietly I jerked, almost stumbling. I looked around and after a moment I resumed walking.

After a minute, the voice floated back to her and she could hear now that it was male.

' … This insignificant version of the cosmic wrath wade through enough energy to power her universe for eons to come, unaware of how far she was… how far she had to go… ' he mused as if speaking to someone.

I gritted my teeth as I snapped my head around in annoyance.

"I may be lost, but I am not 'insignificant'!" I snarled and the voice didn't seem to hear me or care to respond. I nearly just sat down.

"Why am I here? This space, this-" I stopped as dozens of the rivers lit up as if I said some code word.

"… Space?" I repeated and the closely grouped rivers flashed again.

"Time?" I tried and another section of the nebula glowed. I floundered for another example.

"Tap dancing!" I blurted out and a tiny speck of this place glowed dimly. Okay… I mean, if this place was my powers, that made sense that the rivers were the flowing knowledge and the big star must be Sandra-Prime who exploded herself and set the network in place…

But what I wasn't getting was the damn point of being here just because I was forced to spend three charges. Was it just a weird bug? Too much knowledge tapping knocked me out or…

Was there another purpose for me here altogether? I pushed through the river to the first 'unwell' river I came to, bending over to see if I could sense what the hell was going on. If I emerged from the family or parent stream, this one had to be 'related' just like how all the space streams or time streams were grouped together.

Hesitating, I plunged my hand into the river, the river bubbling for a moment. The water-like energy flashed and it overtook me, sweeping me away.

"Fuck off," I snarled as the I hobbled away on my bad leg. The rent notice slipped under my door with a big red stamp of 'last notice' on it. It could join the others in the corner. I walked to the fire escape then to the roof as I shuffled up metal stairs slowly.

It was taking more effort everyday to make the trip, but I made it in the end.

"Hey kids," I muttered softly as eyes turned to me. They snapped to the sack in my other hand and I snorted.

"I love you too…" I sighed as a white pigeon landed on my shoulder, the cute blotchy star on his chest.

"Hello, Nico," I sighed as I opened the bag and began to spread birdseed for everyone. My mind was buzzing again with that charge, so I filed away into animal care, bringing it up to seven charges. I waited and was relieved there were no more blueprints for now

It was tormenting to see such wondrous devices to help the animals I loved… only for them to be impossible to build. Miracles weren't built on birdseed and hope it turned out. I sat down, rubbing my leg where it ached badly.

"Almost three months since that bastard shot me in the leg. Still, he paid in court, didn't he?" I mused as the bullet wound throbbed despite painkillers. I looked up across a few buildings where the damn billboard tormented like a reminder.

Norman Osborn's smug face as he posed in his damn Iron Patriot armor to people driving past.

Leader of the 'Avengers'. Bunch of super-powered pricks…

It started off well, I could make weird little devices like Pigeon guidance collars or glide suits… I wanted to be something. I was thirty-two with no kids and a dead-end job. I wanted to be a hero, but Osborn ended that life before it began.

Vigilantism was illegal under his rule… and his puppet court. I felt tears rise to my eyes as I remembered Norman ordered a flock of my birds, Emma included, to be terminated on sight before my eyes.

He smiled as I screamed.

I stroked Nico's feathered back softly. I would never risk my animals again…

But it was like when he shot me… all my hope just bled out and it was so hard to wake up everyday.

I… was beginning to think I might not last much longer. As I watched the sun set on New York, I thought back to when I was a wild teen of sixteen and to that cute guy in that bar. I wonder what my life would look like if I accepted his offer of a drink then?

"What was his name? John? Jake? James?" I mused aloud, feeling tired.

My powers flared again and I was surprised. I never got more than one charge every couple of days… I stood up slowly as a strange feeling spread through me. An onset of grief, sympathy… sorrow… it was my emotions, but it wasn't 'me' feeling them. I turned and for a second the edge of my vision turned blue.

I-

' A coffee store. Laughter. Good friends'.

I leaned on the nearby wall for support as my power began to flare in a way I had never felt before. Emotions ran at me as if someone was trying to hurl them over my pain and exhaustion.

' Two children, a boy and a girl. Older and younger… their smiles lighting up the world.'

I gasped, the sheer passion hitting me.

"What's going… on?" I asked, afraid now.

It felt like a pair of warm arms embraced me from behind, but in my soul. The images of friends and my birds intermingled, empathy and kindness flowing from this other being.

"Are you… me?" I had to ask the empty air and the pain in my leg soothed for just a moment as a blueprint was shoved into my mind of some weird contraption of coffee and a super vitamin, their designs forming something entirely new.

' Hum Pill.' the other me promised.

"I can't… I don't have any hope," I cried out, trying to make them give up on me too. Just get them to move on with their perfect life. They clung tighter, ignoring my bruised heart and mind to spread warmth.

' We are the Sandras… of love and care. Parent and Pigeon, but our love for them is the same… now stand up and remember something,' the other Sandra said and I looked out at the city as the last of the sun rays washed over me, making my eyes water from the intensity of light.

"We don't quit," I said, voice becoming steady.

' We don't quit,' the other agreed and I picked myself up as my eyes began to glow blue, my sudden headache gone.

My sorrow gave way to anger.

That sack of shit killed my birds.

Fine, if he was the hero of this fucked up world? I'd be the villain. The one that stole from the rich and gave to the poor. The one who struck from above with wings of karma.

If I was going to protect my pigeons… I would become a shadow in the sky.

A vulture of the rich.

' … Go with Robin Hood. That's a bird joke,' the other me said and I mentally rolled my eyes. Was she this nagging and fretting to everyone? I grinned, feeling purpose flow into me once again.

My first charge was going to be in something diabolical.

Magnets!

I, me not Pigeon-Sandra, snapped back from the river with a gasp as if I had been holding my breath for too long. It felt bizarre to be almost one person with the other Sandra… stronger than any vision. We occupied the same space, soul, for that moment.

I looked down at the river and like a filthy mess being unplugged, the river began to swirl and flow again, clearing slightly. I smiled at the sight. From the river, I saw something floating towards me, a blue pearl of sorts. I picked it up and it sank into my skin, making me panic for a moment until I saw the Pigeon Care river formed a tiny subsidiary flow to my river.

I gasped as pools of knowledge rose in my head, the art of tending to pigeon and similar small birds if they were wounded, the proper aviary they needed to rest in then the knowledge unfolded again until it became a niche composition of pigeon biology, breeding techniques, health checks, training, trackers, and more.

It slapped into me and the shock woke me back to awakeness where I shot up off my couch. In the process I nearly headbutted the blue Mutant, Kurt. I stared as Nico, Tabitha, and Peter all rushed me, asking if I was alright.

I held up a hand.

"A moment. My heads unfogging," I requested as designs for drones in the shape of Pigeons came to me followed by a design for a featherly cloak that could enable me to 'glide' against air currents. The feather cloak merged with a design of the protective coat weave from Investigation to form a 'bird-coat' that was tough and able to glide.

After assuring everyone I was okay… still mentally reeling from the experience I just had, I learned a little about what exactly happened.

Kurt Wagner was a Mutant called Nightcrawler who could teleport. He admitted that it was confirmed he traveled to a different plane or two when he did so. So likely when he teleported me… my network lost track of me for a second and panicked when I reappeared or presumed I was in grave danger so bombarded me with emergency charges.

"What kind of planes?" I asked curiously as Tabitha checked my pulse and timed it.

"… I'd rather not say," Kurt said apologetically and I just waved that off. He was entitled to his secrets.

"You just collapsed, your eyes going off like a police siren," Tabitha told me before she scowled at Kurt, clearly blaming him for his casual teleportation habits.

"It's been a while since I had issues with my teleporting," Kurt said apologetically and I noticed Emma was staring at him, hiding behind Nico. I was worried she was scared, but she shyly ducked away when Kurt smiled at her kindly.

I had never seen my little girl blush and shy away from someone.

"It's no one's fault. Issues with powers happen. Some powers just mix weird, right?" I asked the two Mutants, noticing Laura wasn't around…

I tried to stand up, but the room span just a little so I was pushed back down by Tabitha who, in an amusing turn of event, was declaring herself my nurse tonight. How the roles were reversed…

Kurt checked his watch, grimacing, his cute elf ears twitching.

"I must go," he declared and I was a little sad he was leaving.

"Come for dinner sometime," I added, a little sleepy now my brain wasn't hopping dimensions to help another version of me find her feet. Kurt bent down and took one of my hands into his, the warmth and gesture comforting as if I could trust him. He was a peaceful sort.

'Ich würde gern," he said and shook my hands once before letting go.

"Ick woody garn to you too," I smiled back, my mind turning to cotton. Kurt mused as he crossed his arms.

"Sleep and find peace, Miss. Tabitha, walk me to the roof?" he asked sheepishly and the girl rolled her eyes and looked at Nico.

"Get her into bed," she said and my son, my pigeon of another dimension, nodded seriously.

I wanted to follow the nice blue man and tell him about the pigeons! I grumply let Nico fold the couch out and lay me back down as my thoughts grew… softer.

"Don't worry us like that," Nico said gently and Emma came to brush my hair back from my face.

"I am so lucky to have you both," I whispered, taking their hands into mine.

"You could do better," Nico teased, but I remembered that network… how astoundingly lonely and… sad so many Sandras were.

"No… I don't think I could," I smiled and I don't quite remember passing out.

Laura hauled a bag down to the sewers, a ton of leftovers she and Tabitha had been keeping back. She sniffed the air as the steaming tunnel clouded her senses a little from the stench and wetness.

The contact wasn't late which she was thankful for. A Morlock stepped out of the shadows of a tunnel and Laura was glad she set up the meeting point away from Sandra's hideout, she would begin marking tunnels leading to it to let Morlocks know that Laura had claimed that area for herself. They respected symbols like that.

"Here," Laura offered the bag which the Mutant took. A plated fingers led up to a bulky body that smelled of oil and wires. Laura didn't flinch at the sight of the sight insect man that loomed over her with feet to spare.

"Thanks," Litterbug said with a slight rumble. He was gentle as his fingertips could tear stone if he wasn't careful. He turned, letting Laura see the Army badge he had inked on his exoskeleton, a reminder of his past.

Laura had those too, in her nightmares mostly.

"What's happening?" she asked quietly, not caring if she came off as rude. Morlocks appreciated manners, but they also understood business.

"Tunnels are shaking, girl. Big things moving through them… searching for camps of us. Those found don't get seen again," he said quietly.

"Captured?" Laura tilted her head, frowning.

"Killed. Found, scanned, then killed. Told you… looking for something or someone," Litterbug insisted. He turned to the tunnel behind, listening for something, but relaxed.

Laura listened too, but she ignored the three other Morlocks Litterbug had brought as backup, hiding down the tunnel in the darkness. That was standard procedure for them.

"What's hunting you?" she asked after a moment.

Litterbug took a second to put a name to it.

"Snakes, from the rumors," he said and Laura didn't know how to respond to that. Killer hunting snakes in the sewers?

"Thanks," Laura said and Litterbug held the bag up.

"Compliments to the chef, some of the best day-old food we had in a while," he grinned, his face making it come off as a more primal expression.

Laura just watched them go, not moving until they faded from her nose and ears… only then did she begin the arduous journey back home. The dozens of twists and reverse passages she took would ensure she was lost to the shadows in sight, scent, and memory.

She would need to tell Sandra, and Kurt if he was still around, about the 'snakes'. The X-Men likely wouldn't… come to help because of the Morlock's history with them, but Sandra would and that was risky.

Laura really didn't want Sandra mixed up in Morlock politics.

It wasn't the worst thing in the sewers, but it was down there.

Last edited: Jan 16, 2022

31: Murder most Fowl!

I spent the next three days recovering from what I could only presume was some outer-dimensional body experience. Kurt's teleporting powers pulled me like an elastic band one way and my powers got a full smack of recoil when we bounced back.

That was Tony and Bruce's estimate after a quick scan to ensure the wormhole in my head wasn't going supernova. They were super keen on knowing what caused my experience because anything that could mess with dimensions and physics as they know it was super neat, but I didn't tell them about Kurt, just mentioning it was an odd interaction I had with a handsome stranger.

Tony was extremely annoying after that and I regretted my words since.

I kept it quiet simply because Tabitha tried to play it off as 'no big deal' when I asked if I should keep Kurt and any other Mutants passing through a secret. It was her lack of sarcasm or jokes that showed me she was trusting me, but her experiences in the past had been…

Well, I had bumped into her after assholes set her place on fire.

There was, frighteningly enough, the same issue on the other side of the fence. Mutants that had a grudge against the X-men or Kurt in particular. The blue Mutant had a very active life so far and I had a feeling just hearing a small portion of the tales Tabitha knew off hand would drive me gray.

But between working shifts and doing more manual repairs on the AeKure Acre building, my days passed slowly as I took up a new hobby. Laura, I don't know where or how, had brought me enough driftwood, plants of wood, a few times whole logs of wood for me to dig into with my new skills.

She joined me in carving and I was immensely relieved she used a knife and not her… knives.

When I asked her where she got all this stuff, Laura just said that I was 'trading' goods for resources with all the food I was giving her.

We spent one afternoon together and she casually dropped a remark that I now had a pleasant scent of home-cooking, sawdust, and the building. I raised an eyebrow at her, but she turned her attention to some small rabid looking badger creature she was making with her knife.

She was pretty good at carving the wood, likely because… I stopped that train of thought and put it to rest. I wasn't going to deny Laura's past, but I wasn't going to focus on it now.

Me? I made crows… lots and lots of crows. I had so many of the damn things I had a symbolic murder in my living room. Some had bulging eyes like they were shocked, while others were too stocky with short wings, and others looked too predatory or owl-like. I was getting better as my fingers adapted to the techniques in my mind, the constant repetition of my movements like a teacher… Except I was the teacher; both teaching and learning at the same time.

Noticing the time, I decided I was going to go pick up Nico, take him and Emma out for some food. I invited Laura along and she declined because it was annoying to be in a 'hormone sea of hell'.

I think she meant highschool, but it could just be teenagers in general.

I handed her one of my smaller crows that wasn't too bad. She gently clutched in her hand as if the wood was far too fragile.

"His name is Charlie," I said and the young woman sighed at the name, but accepted the figurine, slipping it into her pocket. That was one crow down and about 20 to ditch… I shifted Peter and Gaston off the table since they were larger than most carvings, but the smaller ones like Gerald, Misty, and Destiny could just go in a drawer until I needed them.

By the time I got to Midtown Highschool, I was still early by a few minutes before the bell even rang.

"We must stop running into each other like this," came a voice that sent every nerve of my body into primal flight or fight response.

Sadly for Norman Osborn, I lacked wings to fly so I was left with only one option. I turned to see the man had pulled up silent in a small town car, clearly having timed his exit when my back was turned. His form radiated that tight energy that seemed to give the man an almost maniacal level of presence.

His perfectly smooth black suit and wavy hair was picture perfect.

"Personally coming twice in so much time? You must have either had nothing to do or nothing important, Norman," I said coolly, not letting the boiling rage of my power creep into my voice. Norman took my comment with a smile.

"We can't all have time to take on fixer-upper half-way homes for the city's lost and dangerous," he said back and his words chilled me. The audacity to outright look me in the eye and say he was watching me was…

Exactly like this asshole.

"Oh, haven't you heard? I have important guests all the time. You just don't get invited," I said just as politely back. His smile twitched as if he was enjoying my valiant efforts to remain brave in front of him.

"Yes, Stark, Banner, even Steve Rogers, what is a lady to do with such gentleman callers at her doorstep day and night? One could raise a concern that such children of yours are around such dangerous figures at an increasing rate," he said, straightening his watch on his wrist and I had such a strong urge to use it to strangle him that I mentally counted to 3 to calm down.

"You're a piece of work," I said quietly enough that the venom in my tone was audible. No one… no one used my kids as a threat. Norman looked at me and the demon behind those human eyes peered at me as if he was deciding the best way I would look dying.

"Something about you, Sandra AeKure, bothers me and it's deep… festering in my bones," he replied, dropping the pretense.

"Everything about you bothers me, Norman Osborn. From my skin to my teeth to my blood… Stay away from me or I will defend what's mine," I uttered, almost like a different woman entirely was speaking through me.

"If that's a threat then you'll need to raise your standards, when it comes to words and the company you keep," Norman said, sliding back into his smug business-like persona once more.

I looked him up and down with unconcealed disgust.

"I'll raise my standards when you learn to raise your son instead of leaving it to your staff," I said before I turned, hands on my hip.

' Well, if you're going to start a war, might as well land the first blow,' Logic Sandra said, sounding shocked at my savage words.

Stupid? Yes, definitely not the smartest act to piss off a superpowered techno-riding madman, but…

I looked back at him, seeing his face darken.

"Oh, I forgot to say… Harvest Manufacture sniped you out of that river deal right? My sympathy," I said and for a moment, he looked like he might attack me; my training (as small as it was) trying to predict his movement.

It looked like he might go for my throat and the idea that I shook him badly enough to break cover brought me such dark satisfaction from deep within my power that it scared me.

Instead he got back into his car and drove off without even waiting for Harry and I was left there with a growing sense of dread,

What… did I just do? He already unsettled me and then the threats against Emma and Nico just… just…

Wasn't taking his crap anymore. The words soothed me in a way I hadn't anticipated. Something about my power and perhaps my existence felt driven to fight Norman on any level I could and it was so subtle that I hadn't even noticed it at first.

I was more disturbed that Norman had that power over me, indirectly, because of the Prime-Sandra's grudge. I didn't have time to dwell on it because a charge ignited in my mind, the sheer emotion and stress being around Osborn driving my powers to speed up after days of recovering.

I put it into Norman's own area in a slight act of spite and logic. I needed to know what kind of stuff let him fly on that glider along with potential tools he could be using based on the research I had done before. The star for Mechanical Engineering was an exposed panel with wires sparking.

It was still a large area, but I was beginning to reach areas that could be considered 'employable' in smaller areas. I got a tiny brush against so many overlapping areas that it made my brain tingle for a moment. I touched on aerospace engineering, metallurgical engineering, civil engineering, electrical engineering, manufacturing engineering, chemical engineering, industrial engineering, and more such things. It was almost too much until the fact I was seeing so much showed me something about each field.

The parts that could be found in all of them to a degree, the basics and the staples. If I was a student that was on a five-year course? I was confidently about year 3.9… maybe 4 if I was trying to show off. Thinking about the Glider still boggled my mind, but I could see now it wasn't just one big engine, but the head or perhaps the wings had to have some guidance processor sensors in place, and the fact it could hold his weight but also fly meant that the fuel has to be potent enough to cause upwards momentum despite a rider, but not hot enough that it melted the back of their legs…

"Mom?"

The other side was protective gear to offset the heat, but that didn't explain the maneuverability or the rider's balance. Could the glider have some inertia damping tech? How did the rider use it without their legs snapping at the knees from the sudden jerks? Was a forward leaning position required or…

"Mom? Hello?"

I turned, blinking at Nico, Peter, and Mary-Jane standing there, looking concerned.

"Hello," I said, trying to make my brain shut off, but now that I had given it the tools and a target, it was putting through the theoretical powers of Norman's glider through different shifting questions as if I couldn't stop!

I thought of my crows.

Freddy… Hannah… Iggy… Harrod the Tyrant… Suzie…

I exhaled with a relaxing breath.

"Sorry, I'm distracted. How is everyone?" I asked, more attentive now.

Norman Osborn could be the Goblin that brought hellfire to my doorstep, but I was Sandra, the mother above all else. If he came for my kids, he would bleed.

"No sign of Gobby," Peter announced as he crawled into the hideout a few hours later in full Spider-Man form. I was leaning over his costume, fixing up more holes in his spare costume as I waited. I had warned Laura and Tabitha of the potential danger, but it seemed Norman wasn't coming… tonight.

He came to a stop next to the table and stared as I weaved something he wasn't expecting.

"What is this?" he asked, picking up the thin weave that I had made from tough burlap, uncoiled rope, and foam soaked in… something slick before it had dried out to produce the material Peter was holding, a dark spongy substance. He compressed it and it took a long time for it to return to its expanded state.

I looked up at him and he flinched in surprise as some of the foam was stuck to my forehead and neck in my distracted making session.

"Cheap and easily made compression padding. It bends and moves like a runny liquid when it's compressed and if I run it as a layer between your suit and your body, you won't likely notice it. If your suit gets torn, it expands in contact with the air, filling out the torn section to continue to resist damage to an extent and hide any features you might have," I said, wondering where on earth was my left sock…

"Uh… how did you make this stuff? Peter asked and I took a moment to answer.

"Birds and detectives," I said finally and he stared at me. He lifted up one of the arms to see a white spread unfolding from to the body and connected to the upper arm.

"Are these drying… feathers?" he asked with a little awe as if he had never seen pigeon feathers going through a perma-flexible petrification through silk to appear as spiderwebs without losing much of their air-resisting properties.

I mean I hadn't seen it cause I was lame, but Peter was a bright boy who knew a lot of things.

"Yup, they'll give you air drag if you spread them or increase your speed if you snap your arms shut. I noticed when you swing that you don't spread your arms that much too long so it shouldn't get in your way," I explained before it clicked I hadn't even asked Peter if he wanted web-wings!

"I can take them off. I just need to run the feathers through a brittling solut-" I began but he shook his head as he hugged me in excitement.

"Thank you! This is amazing!" he announced and I tried not to smile, appearing too pleased with myself.

"No, I'm sure you're the Amazing Spider-Man," I teased before looking down at my stained hands.

"I could have invited Osborn to attack us… giving you some protection is the least I can do since I'm not a good fighter. If you're helping me… stopping Norman then I-" I began but he took his mask off to frown at me.

"You didn't invite Norman to do anything. He's not well, Miss A. He's sick and the Green Goblin let's him act out. If it wasn't you, it'd be some poor cashier who didn't work fast enough or some rival company out doing him or me or Mr Stark being richer, or me or a bad day… with me in it," he listed and I snorted.

"Do you torment your villains, Peter?" I asked and he looked far too pleased with himself.

"I once read a ton of 'you're so fat' jokes to the Kingpin to his face. Don't think he ever quite forgave me," Peter admitted, arms behind his back.

"I may need to put a muffler on your mask. It's not healthy to tease the super-villains," I pointed out, putting his costume on a washing line I brought down and using pegs to hang it, letting it dry.

"And what? Deprive them of banter? It would ruin their days if I didn't make fun of them at least twice a week," Peter said sagely.

"You know? People think you're a quiet shy kid," I said dryly and turned to give him my best 'Mom' look.

"It's part of my charm, like an apple filled with frosting or if you ask my biggest fan, J.J Jameson? I'm an 'evil psychopath whose soul rots the pillars of society by breathing on them'," he quoted and I stared at him.

"He's just shy, he collects all my photos," Peter added and he had a cheeky glint in his eyes as to who might be supplying said pictures.

I would need to unpack the whole 'Peter sells pictures of his alter-ego to grown men to earn cash to fund his secret hero life as the people he works for trash him through the gutters and likely is a big stressor in Peter's life' next time.

When Norman wasn't breathing down my neck.

I had cash and enough to keep Peter afloat, but I had a strong inkling that Peter would make me chase him with money before he accepted any more aid right now. I couldn't push too hard or he might end up rejecting all my help in guilt.

It was a worrying sign that Laura was the more normal and chill of my 'children'. Even Emma had global domination plans as her dream job.

Well… I wouldn't trade them in for anything.

Later, I finished put in thin strips of my remaining flex tape along my windows, ensuring that if they were bombed, the entire thing wouldn't blow out. Nico and Emma were too busy staring at the macabre scene on the table as I turned back.

"What… is it?" Nico asked, concerned.

"His name is Byran, I showed you him before," I frowned and he looked back down at the table where the painted wooden bird laid on its back, stomach open like surgery as I slowly worked in parts from an old radio I bought in the flea market along with a few receiver parts.

"He wasn't Frankenstein's Bird-Monster then," Nico said and Emma's wide-eyes just kept watching. I checked the charge on its internal battery. The storage was crap, barely enough for three hours if all the drone did was watch and record. The range wasn't fantastic either, but despite that…

I closed the hatch and pressed a slight square indent on the side of its neck for three seconds. The black dull eyes of the camera-eyes that I harvested from a baby-camera like I used to have for my kids, lit up red and the thing took wobbly steps forward. Pausing as it tested its legs slowly, adjusting tiny unseen details to get a better result.

I had done something… scary to the simple circuit board inside, connecting it to the mechanical body that worked off grinding gears and sprockets. The spybird was capable of limited learning. It wasn't alive, it didn't process the information in a way that spoke of questioning or pondering, but simply building a database of constantly updating numbers that it would use to produce an optimal result in regards to its coding.

It's purpose?

My first serious creation's task was to move about my block and send an early warning to my phone if either Norman Osborn or the Green Goblin was picked up by the camera. I slowly turned to the other 19 watching crow carvings.

I was sending a murder against Norman Osborn.

I was going to need a lot of radios… and for some reason? Slinkies… the spy birds had inbuilt slinkies for reasons I couldn't fathom.

I'm sure it wasn't important.

32: Afoot

"These shouldn't work," Peter said with an air of incredulity the next day as he tried to explore one of my Crow Drones. I sipped coffee as he pulled out a cable that I don't quite recall adding to it, but I suppose was important enough to be inside. After all, I made them so they had to be brilliant.

"I mean, they do," I pointed out with a small smile.

"They shouldn't," Peter stressed, turning with grease smears on his hand and his hair slicked up from running his hands through it. He looked a little frustrated as if the crow was a puzzle he couldn't solve.

"Radioactive spider bites shouldn't give you powers, but it did," I retorted and he opened his mouth before closing it.

"Radiation has unpredictable effects on the human genome and then you throw in genetically-altered spider DNA… ," he said with a blush. I snorted aloud in the underground base which was slowly looking less like a Kraven museum and more like a space for creativity.

"Radiation isn't a magic-hand-wave catch-all term for weirdness that just occurs. Our science technically works and some of it shouldn't," I said gently as I put my cup down.

"Sure, we still haven't cracked all the mysteries, but your stuff is extra weird. It's like parts of it are blackboxed in on itself and other parts skip entire sections needing to work. Parts that seem to draw power in from nowhere or important sections that are just… not there," he pointed to different parts that just 'made sense' in my own mind that didn't to him. Despite his own protests, Peter was really beginning to relax in his 'spider-web'.

I guess the stress he was used to tinkering in his basement or in some backroom was so normal for him that he couldn't fathom a space he could just work openly. It was lifting years of stress from his shoulder in days.

"My power works on dimensional levels, perhaps my tech exists on various dimensional planes? Some parts here, some parts there," I offered, using what little science I had on the subject to take a guess.

Peter looked at me with his brown eyes, his expression so wide I was worried he was suffering a stroke at the age of sixteen.

"Miss A… you're kind of scary if that's true," he mumbled. Honestly, I think it had something to do with the 'nodes' inside the Sandra-Network.

Like how my coffee inventions tapped into the Coffee node. Perhaps some of the advanced tech I needed to work was inside that node itself or it funneled existing tech from other 'coffee' Sandras? I only needed to build 5% of the device while the node itself supported the other 95?

Was that why my inventions got scarier the more I invested into an area? I got more Node support?

And… it just occurred to me… why lesser areas were easier to invent new tech combinations. The less Sandras invested in those nodes so there was more wiggle room. If Coffee was a massive node of investment, would that mean my Hum Pill would already exist, but higher up? Locked off until I invested more?

I didn't know… and that was an issue.

"I can add some basic tracker technology. I have trackers that work off my own power, but it's simple enough to make it cooperate with radio signals," Peter finally said, closing the hatch on my Crow Drone.

I could do the same I think, but I had other things to focus on.

"How's the suit?" I finally asked and he lit up with a smile.

"I can barely feel the difference when I'm moving about. I haven't tested the durability, but it's a little warmer when I'm high up so that's a big improvement already," he grinned and Nico appeared, his backpack bulging with books. Emma was on another girl's day out with Tabitha so I didn't need to worry too much about her.

"I brought everything I had on runes, symbols, and sigils," he declared. I shot Peter a smile as I left him to play with my drones a while longer.

"Perfect, I wanna get Agatha's request done and dusted. I feel like she's hovering over me, shooting me expectant looks and eyeing her watch," I muttered, knowing full well she could astral project and do just that.

I had a single charge and I knew exactly where I was putting it.

It turned out that I had been a bit wrong on the original idea, there was no such thing as Celtic runes, but I could do Norse Runes or Sigils. Both had potential, but I kind of had a crush on Thor so I was going Norse for now.

I put the point in and my world expanded.

It was a spinning beautiful collage of runes and images. The order of symbolism of sigils so old they could be found around the world. I inhaled once as I knew I couldn't quite read them in any sensible manner, I had a grasp of mostly basic concepts that I could use to fulfill Agatha's request… but just in case, Nico was here to double check my work.

As I got to carving… something finally clicked that should have raised red flags a long time ago. My runes

What exactly… was Agatha hoping to summon? She gave me her word no one would die, but still…

What one said and what one meant were different things. This thought bothered me as I carved the runes of Wynn, Raidō, and Naudiz, carving their lines together in a binding pattern.

Every line made my crow seem heavier.

Agatha's eyebrow raised so elegantly that I was a little envious of her grace.

"Attempting to bargain after a deal is struck? Risky," Agatha said as I held the crow out of her touch for the moment. I had little doubt she could just magic me to hand it over or take it, but I liked to think she thought herself as 'too well-mannered' to be so rude.

"Not bargaining, just wanting clarification," I corrected as I stood in her foyer. Her house was really nice and I had to admit that it was like a cool museum of history that I wouldn't mind exploring.

To my left was a glass cabinet of various burned books with covers that looked rubbed smooth. In another corner was what looked to be a blackened skeleton on a frame that I couldn't quite escape the 'gaze' of. Another feature of Agatha Harkness' house was the fact my powers felt… quiet.

It wasn't cut off, but it felt like I was slightly further away than usual for them to reach me. Nowhere near as bad as what Kurt's teleportation had done, but… noticeable. It seemed Agatha had her abode on a slightly altered plane of dimension closely anchored to actual reality. I wonder if it stopped junk mail or just the occasional demon?

"It's not really anything to involve yourself with. Bad business really," Agatha said as she poured me tea. I had a feeling coffee did not exist in this dimension and I hated it slightly more.

"I can make that choice once you just explain why you want this?" I shook Fred the Crow.

Agatha looked me in the eyes then I could see her decide how much I should actually know. She was way too used to holding all the cards in these sorts of things.

"Very well, if you wish to accept the burden of this knowledge, I won't deny you," she said and waved her hand, summoning a book from one of her many bookshelves. It opened to a picture of a shadowy woman wearing a shawl of black feathers with long dark hair, the front of her dress drenched with a dark stain as she glared at the reader of the book, her eyes slitted as she looked inches away from tearing out the nearest heart to devour it.

The artist had fun with this one, I could feel it.

"Madonna?" I took a guess.

"Not so old," Agatha replied dryly before she set her cup down.

"That is the Morrígan," she clarified.

"Sounds like it has one of those annoying letters in her name," I said, having not a clue about the woman.

"She is one of the oldest beings around since she is a goddess of war and death, her symbol being the crow. She is currently running around amok, possessing the body of a comrade of the man you met not long ago, Kurt Wagner. The Morrígan uses female hosts to extend her will and her current one… must be freed," Agatha said casually as if discussing the weather.

I stared at her.

"So, really, you're doing what you've already been doing. Helping Mutant kind," Agatha mused aloud.

"Who's the host?" I asked, throat dry.

"Theresa Cassidy, though most know her as 'Siryn'. Her personal history is messy, but no one deserves the Morrígan for long," Agatha promised. We sat in some silence for a time and I finally decided on something.

"I guess I have no complaints," I said, sounding a bit lame to myself.

"That is good. I shall walk you out," Agatha smiled and stood up.

"Nico's training shall begin after this affair is over. I don't think either of us relish the idea of him being here when I challenge a deity known for wanton bloodshed and magic," she said dryly and I had a hard time smiling at her… joke?

As I walked down the street, I heard her say one last thing to my back.

"Be careful of plots growing under foot," she said and I spun only to see the house she had been living in now appeared empty and decrepit… despite the fact I was just inside moments before.

"Yeah, be careful of… bird women with bad attitudes," I said, getting the last word in hopefully.

I took the lack of response as a win on my part.

"Magic old ladies using birds to summon gods. These days we have Thor roughly trained to answer a phone," Tony said as he was bent over a table doing something I wasn't in the know about.

I shrugged as Tinker Sandra and Spy Sandra insisted I get close to his work. All the better to look at it, of course.

"I'm more worried that if she loses control or something goes wrong, I have a share of the blame for helping her," I admitted and looked down at my hands. The sounds of parts clicking stopped and Tony turned on his chair.

"She looked rich, right?" he asked suddenly and I blinked at him, not sure what his point was but I nodded.

"Tons of rich people stuff in glass containers worth my building twice over," I said and he rolled his eyes as if that number was 'hard to beat' in his eyes.

"She would just get someone else to make the bird. At least it's your work which means it's weird as hell but should work," he said flippantly in a way that made me both feel better and want to hit him.

"Thanks, I think," I said as he pulled up one of those cool holographic screens of him to show a graph of sorts slowly rising and slightly falling only to shoot up again.

"Tada," he said with a grin.

"I love graphs… they're so… number-y," I said, trying to sound positive.

"You're one of those mothers who puts their kids artwork on the fridge when it really isn't any good, aren't you?" he asked dryly.

"Intent and effort are as worthy as result and reward," I protested with no shame.

"This is your profits from Flex Tape, sold under Stark Industries. Right now, we're seeing a rapid increase in orders as more and more purposes are found for the stuff," Tony pointed out and I looked at the graph with no real feeling.

I invented the tape to help people and make a little money on the side, it was hardly worth Tony graphing out.

"Right now, in about a week's time, you're slated to get about a quarter of a million from the first return and likely that number will drop to 200 thousand monthly afterwards," he said and I kept nodding, wondering what I would cook tonight.

Pasta dishes? Perhaps a stew?

… Wait.

"Tony, I think you stumbled. You said quarter of a million," I said, trying to be soothing as he smiled at me.

"Right, you hustler. I'll pass it up that you want a raise to 300 thousand for the first month and 210 thousand monthly afterwards. Passing up…" Tony said slowly and his hand reached his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Hello, me? Yes, request passed," he joked into his phone.

"That's… " I wanted to say too much but didn't want to also insult Tony to his face about how to run his company.

"Not a lot, but it's only the first year and if you ever improve the formula, you can likely have a lot of contracts follow you to the next stage," he said simply as if I was struggling with the business aspect of all of this.

It hit me then that I knew Tony was rich, but I didn't consider Tony as 'rich'. Anything under a million didn't seem to be a figure worth talking about or worrying about for Tony and I don't think I ever knew how he saw figures like this.

For me?

My entire world had just been blown apart and put together with Flex Tape.

For Tony? It was the monthly report.

"I don't know… what to even do with all that. Tony, what do I do with all that money?" I asked, blurting out in a slight panic and he looked taken aback by my tone.

"Have a good life? Spoil your kids? Invent stuff or buy more run down buildings and adopt more outcasts?" he suggested slowly.

Those were good ideas, but abruptly, an idea did begin to germinate in my mind.

"And I made progress on my Dad's laptop," he said, breaking me out of my thoughts to make me blink at him. He flicked his hologram screen, bringing up a dozen pictures and folders.

"JARVIS has been hard at work and no Super Soldier formula or anything, but we did find this," Tony said excitedly as he pulled up schematics.

Putting my Mechanical Engineering and Computing skills to work, I realized we were looking at two android models built for differing purposes.

"Turns out that old Hank Pym worked with my Dad back in the day to make Ultron… a sort of robot douche I repaired without knowing what it was thinking it was an old project," Tony said darkly, his hands gripped as he thought about that incident.

I remember roughly that Ultron was that villain who went across Europe, nearly causing a civil war. I had no clue Tony had been involved in unleashing it…

"Seems old Hank had two post-projects when he saw how nutty his Ultron Model was. This is the 'VISION' model and the 'JOCASTA' model. I kind want to build them since they don't have any mental mapping programming so they're basically empty shells," Tony explained and I felt a lot better hearing that.

"So, they weren't designed to be sentient?" I asked curiously as I studied the rough images as best I could.

"Sort of. They were designed to allow mental maps to be uploaded rather than built pre-programmed in from the start," Tony said, tapping a few buttons to enhance the Vision model.

"And you want to do this because…" I asked slowly as I walked around the screen, Tony's lab feeling a little cold all of a sudden.

"Science, the advancement of the human race, to show that I can, make up for the Ultron thing," he listed casually.

"And how do we prevent Ultron-reborn and Ultronia teaming up to be a world threat?" I asked, going even slower now.

"Vision and Jocasta…" he stressed just as slowly as I had, "will have stable mental maps. I already picked Vision's and I kind wanted to know if you'd be up for being Jocasta's? You're one of the most stable women I know aside from Pepper and she won't even let me get a dog," he said brightly.

Wha…

What?!

"Tony… I have connections to serial killer versions of me in my head. I have war criminals in my head and you want a robot to have those too?" I asked, flabbergasted.

"I can isolate your nexus tear and work around it. But think of it. A super-android with your affection for people. Your kindness. Your ability to see the best of people and help them," he said and I blinked at him, those were… compliments.

He stared back.

"Not that I think any of those traits are true or admirable… you coffee… scrub," he said stiffly.

After a long moment, I shook my head.

"I don't feel comfortable with the idea," I said and he exhaled slowly.

"Gotcha. A darn shame, but I can still build the shell and see if it's got anything worth preserving for future models of my suits," he said before clapping me on the shoulder.

"You should swing by. You're not too bad with the tech and Bruce helps out sometimes. I know you'd both like to get your hands dirty together," he said with a hum and I blinked at him, not sure what he was getting at.

I looked back at the holographic display of Jocasta and my stomach twisted uncomfortably.

I just… had a bad feeling about all this.

So far, nothing about Hank Pym or anything he touched seemed to be worth reviving.

On the way home, my mind lit up with a charge and I discreetly checked my contact glasses to ensure they were in place to hid the glow from the other people on the bus. I almost wanted to bury the charge right into robotics, just so I could get atop of this whole mental mapping business.

I took a deep breath and knew I was simply reacting with my gut. Robotics or even AI fields would be neat, but it would overall be limiting myself due to a worried thought.

I was better off keeping myself general for the time being so I put the charge into Computing. I felt the knowledge of dozens of programming languages being touched upon, I had a rough understanding of construction of different networks, bases, add-on equipment, and others. I was soon learning the basics of firewall security that went along nicely with my existing security knowledge and how to break it for the pleasure of my spy.

Even with this boost, the kind of thing Tony wanted to accomplish was mind boggling to say the least. It was a little scary how smart he was with no powers to speak of to enhance it.

Overall, I felt better. Especially since now I could basically pay for Nico's education (magic or normal) along with setting up a college fund for Emma in a single month.

Even more, I could assure Peter that I could pay him a small sum to keep him afloat so he could quit that horrible photography business in the Bugle. He wasn't a martyr or the savior returned… Peter shouldn't need to starve or work himself to death for a city that mocked him with his own pictures.

I was in a good mood until I got home and walked into my building to see something horrifying. Laura slashing and doing her best to cut her loose from long thick green tentacles that seemed to be coming out of the building's foundations, the things trying to drag her into the hole they created as Tabitha stayed back, only throwing small bombs.

"Laura!" I cried out and rushed to the second floor where one of the city's mandatory fire hazard boxes were and grabbed a fire axe, rushing back down to see long grooves in the floor from where Laura was holding on as best she could.

"Don't get close!" Tabitha warned, her hands glowing with more energy but I swung the axe at the thickest part of the growths and the head got stuck a third of the way in, spraying a noxious green liquid all over my damn floors. I yanked the axe out and the thing turned on me as if 'seeing me'.

"Not in my house," I growled, pushing all my terror into anger.

As the thing whipped a tendril at me… Agatha Harkness' voice came back to me in a haunting memory.

'Be careful of plots growing under foot'.

Really? Really?!

Not even a 'you got demon weeds in your basement'? She had to be a damn mystical vague old bat?!

Laura removed another piece of the tentacles and it withered like dried up salad once it fell off, breaking apart before it even settled on the floor.

Then just as I was about to go Rambo-style and jump on the thing axe swinging… it died.

It locked up, shook violently and toppled over like a defeated hydra. We all stared as it rapidly turned yellow and I reached out, tearing a green piece off as fast I could, nothing more than a surface piece of flesh, but it didn't 'break apart' when I did so… an inside chemical?

It had a built in evidence remover?

"Salad… is off the menu tonight," I panted, feeling sweaty, covered in drying plant sap, and feeling panic rising.

"Meat eaters unite," Tabitha agreed as she helped Laura stand, the girl nursing what looked like crushed wrists and bruises on her neck.

"Explain?" I asked, voice turning hoarse. They looked at me and Hobie Brown walked into the building carrying groceries and stopped dead in his tracks, keys in hand.

"Um…" he said slowly and I tried to hide the axe behind my back.

"You know… the rent is good and I don't need to know," he declared and walked right into his apartment and closed the door.

"… He's cute," Tabitha said finally.

I twitched.

Why was I developing a nervous twitch?

Was it the demon plants?

I was blaming the demon plants.

33: The Locks and the Dogs

I felt, for the first time in a small while, powerless.

Laura and I stared at each other, neither one of us willing to budge despite the fact she was a highly-trained ex-assassin with claws that could make a shish kebab out of me.

"I can help," I repeated myself. Laura simply shook her head as Tabitha laid on the sofa, a frozen bag of peas on her to soothe a headache.

"Give it up, Sandy. You've already did us a big solid. The plants? That's after Mutants and this is a Mutant thing. Don't get involved," Tabitha said tiredly without lifting the peas off her face.

"I don't care if it's a Mutant thing-" I began tersely and Laura cut me off.

"Others do and they can do horrific things to you," she said simply and I blinked at her. 'Horrific' was not a word I'd ever thought Laura would use.

"She's not wrong. This is affecting the Morlocks, and Laura has been, despite my warnings, helping them out with food which led the vine-things back here. She stunk of Morlock and was also a Mutant," Tabitha sat up and removed the frozen peas to stare at me.

"I told you about the Morlocks and I haven't even scratched the surface. They're a tribe and think like one. Right now, they're two factions, one that loosely respects a lady named Storm as their leader despite Storm doing nothing for them other than kick Callisto's ass one time," she explained and I was fascinated in a way someone was hooked on a good documentary.

Storm? Callisto?

Names I tucked away for later.

"The other? They run under Masque, that's with a Q, by the way," Tabitha said as she walked over to the window and peered out as if expecting things to be watching us.

"And they're not good?" I asked slowly and Tabitha looked down, struggling to answer when Laura took over.

"Masque is a flesh-sculptor, he controls flesh like its clay. One touch from him and you could look like a supermodel or like me and you or with one side of your body covered in angry pus-leaking boils and the other like a deformed centaur," Laura summed up with a clinical detachment.

"He finds people and makes them deformed, turns them into 'Morlocks' on the surface so they have no choice but to fill his ranks. If you're a Mutant? Then Healer in the other camp could fix you, but if you don't have an X-Gene for Healer to work off? You're stuck until you pleased Masque to make you a little less horrible," Tabitha concluded darkly.

I… swallowed before looking between the two.

"Why hasn't he been… handled?" I asked slowly, not wanting to outright why this nutjob hadn't been taken out back and escorted to a nice prison where he couldn't hurt anyone.

"Morlock politics and the fact any Morlock worth their salt can vanish in the sewers faster than I can spot a deal in the mall," Tabitha said simply then shrugged, causing her dyed blonde hair to cover her face slightly.

"Plus, touching the guy is a bit of a hassle. Even then, he has a loyal group to cover him in a fight," she said before waving her hand.

"The point is, I wouldn't put it past either groups of the Morlocks to have pissed off some Mutant that controlled vines and they were looking for revenge and found Laura by accident," Tabitha said confidently.

I frowned and I looked over to the tupperware container I shoved the plant sample into. It was degrading, but not as fast as the main vine had. I honestly couldn't tell anything about it which bugged me, but plants just hadn't been a subject that I had focused on outside a limited scope of biology.

"I don't agree. The Morlocks I've been talking to say the vines have been attacking both camps and they come from the river, not the sewer," Laura told Tabitha who waved that comment off.

"Laura we gotta let Morlocks deal with Morlock stuff otherwise we get dragged in, someone has a superbomb or opened a rip in space and we have to deal with it and one of us goes missing for three months while being trapped in a dinosaur-infested jungle. Morlocks are trouble," Tabitha insisted with narrowed eyes.

Why did that sound far too specific to be a random example?

Spy and Detective both read that Tabitha was… earnest which actually made wanted to lie down for a moment. She saw the look and tried to look reassuring for my sake.

"Kurt got hit mid-teleporting us and we landed in a jungle in the Antarctic," she said, which answered nothing and only made me stare harder.

"Give me a sec," I said, changing the subject before I could ask any questions, and pulled out my phone to try and call Tony. Maybe he had earthquake sensors or 'evil plant' radars? It couldn't hurt to ask.

His phone rang and rang before the familiar voice of JARVIS answered.

" Hello, Miss AeKure, I am unable to pass the phone to Tony currently as he is not here," the AI said respectfully and I blinked.

"He was there a couple of hours ago," I said and JARVIS was quiet for a moment.

" I cannot reveal any information about official Avenger missions that are across the globe. I hope you understand my statement. I cannot reveal information about emergency Avenger missions," JARVIS said and I nodded before remembering I was on the phone and JARVIS couldn't see me.

"Um, no worries. I don't suppose you have access to any seismic activity in New York?" I asked hopefully.

" I do. No major activity has been registered on any such technology. New York has activity, but the range between subway trains and the storm drains of the spacious sewers means a lot can hide between the two levels comfortably," JARVIS said instantly.

I could hear Tabitha and Laura whispering to one another and I focused on my call.

"Anything specifically odd coming in from the Hudson and moving towards my apartment building?" I asked slowly.

This time, the pause took slightly longer.

" I'm afraid not. If something did move in such a way, existing infrastructure means it won't make much of a reading unless it actively burrows through the earth. Is something wrong, Miss AeKure? I can patch an emergency message to Tony?" JARIVS offered kindly.

"No! It's fine… Tony has a lot more to deal with right now than me being worried," I assured him. We said our goodbyes and he said he'd let Tony know that I had called when he returned. I turned to see Laura and Tabitha shooting me a look.

"What?" I asked, defensively.

"If we… were to say… invite you down to Morlock neutral ground to do some snooping. How comfortable would you be if that meant wearing a mask?" Tabitha said slowly and I raised my eyebrow.

"That's a change of tune from a minute ago," I pointed out, not exactly asking, but waiting for a reason.

"We don't want you involved-" Tabitha began and Laura spoke up, arms crossing and a serious look in her eyes.

"I don't mind, but I'd have to guard you," the feral child said, far too calmly.

"-I don't want you involved," Tabitha corrected herself with a sigh. Sometimes these two were in perfect sync, other times? They were like water and oil.

"But, if more plants come, I do see trying to cover the hole to the sewer with a rug isn't going to keep us safe. We go in, deal with the problem, get out and tell the Morlocks they have to guard our street like Mutant-IT in the gutters," Tabitha said with a pensive look.

"You read IT?" I asked, more amused than surprised.

"I saw the movie," the girl admitted.

"Think you can do anything to track that down?" she asked, nodding to the container with the rotting plant piece in it. I thought about it. In the effort of chopping the vines up with an axe, I had gotten a second charge today.

I tried to guess where I would need to put it. I could start the plant field up brand new, but at a single charge it would be unlikely to actually produce results. I could put it into biology, but there was a whole issue going on with this all.

Tabitha wasn't asking me to become an expert on plants.

She was asking if I could whip something up to track them. That meant I was torn between two of my old reliable fields. Spy or Investigation.

In the end, I decided on Investigation, putting a charge into it, bringing it up to 4 to match Spy. I turned to Tabitha, opening my mouth as my vision began to change.

"I have an-"

Three more missing people. I sighed as the cases piled up on my desk. I left the force three years ago and even though I was an independent detective, I was still getting asked to track cheaters, children, and watch empty houses for chump change.

These missing people? This was different… it had a more foul air about it.

A knock at my office door made me look up to see a shadowy outline on the other side of my frosted glass, the name of my agency stamped neatly across it.

AeKure's Solutions

When they entered, I knew they were trouble the moment our eyes met.

"Spider-Cop, the rising star of the force," I said grandly, leaning back in my chair, making it creak as the man in blue and red took off his hat, leaving only his smooth mask exposed.

"What do I owe the pleasure?" I asked softly, spinning a pen in my fingers.

"Private Detective AeKure, you're a bit of a legend yourself. As a fellow veteran of crime, grizzled experts that we are… I want to help you with the missing people out of Hell's Kitchen," Spider-Cop said boldly.

I slowly tapped the space around the button under my desk. The hidden automated turrets could spring into action in a second, but I don't think the man was here to pull a sting on me.

I didn't exactly leave the force with my head held high. The police commissioner, Norman Osborn did a surprise inspection that revealed cocaine that I had never seen before in my work locker.

He smiled when I left dishonorably.

Well, screw Osborn. There was a reason he was called the 'Iron Goblin' behind his back. The man was diabolic but politically savvy.

"I'm pretty sure the police told me that I wasn't welcome in the investigation hence why I have to snoop around in the shadows. That means that you don't have permission to bring me in or join my work," I pointed out and the man winced. He was… younger than I would have guessed. Despite the rough voice, he couldn't be older than his twenties.

I tried not to smile.

Compared to him? I was an old hound left to sniff out boozy trails of the criminally inclined.

"I have a lot to offer and I know… that the force is corrupted, but we have a responsibility to the people," Spider-Cop went on and took a step forward.

"I can help," he insisted.

"I already have a 'side-kick'," I said with an eye roll to the empty desk across the hall where a visible bottle of Jack Daniels was on the table next to a shot glass.

I could almost see the hero flinching.

"Miss Jones is… efficient but not subtle," he said slowly as if stepping into a minefield.

"She cracks skulls and I crack safes, we're perfect for each other," I said brightly standing and stretching so my spine popped.

"There's a victim not mentioned in the reports," Spider-Cop said suddenly and I stopped being jovial.

"What?" I asked, voice now hard as nails.

"The ex-commissioner. It's related to him, the man before Osborn. It involves-" he tried to explain but I was already connecting dots in a jagged line back to Osborn.

"Gwen Stacy, she's supposed to be living with her father's life insurance somewhere in California," I said dangerously. I remember holding the girl as she sobbed her heart out over her father's coffin at his funeral.

An unsolved murder that I chased to this day.

I reached into my drawer and pulled out a device that made Spider-Cop take a step back.

I didn't blame him. After 4 charges in blades, two in low-tier mods, and a single charge in taser technology? I would be afraid when I pulled out a crackling sword that unfolded with a baton like handle that I had to wield with two hands.

"… Did you lose your gun?" Spider-Cop asked faintly.

"Jessica made me feel like a damsel when a fight happened. Now, I swing Bertha about and get results," I promised darkly.

Besides… when I finally got Norman Osborn alone?

I didn't want to use a gun. I wanted our 'conversation' to be more intimate.

I always thought Norman Osborn would look just perfect if he was a head shorter than his current height.

"-an idea!" I blurted out before my jaw dropped.

Whoever Jessica was, how could my other self let her drink and swing a massive sword about in a tiny space? She could have hit Peter… if Spider-Cop was a 'Peter'. That was going to get confusing fast… I was confident that my other selves were 'me', but Spider-Man? That could be anyone.

I shook my head as the knowledge flooded in. There was a better grasp of investigation all around, but it now had slight edges of building a team of useful people and having connections to spread my knowledge.

There was also two new pieces of tech I could make.

One was a sort of short-range radio wave hijacker thing that allowed me to pick up weakly encrypted channels simply by being between the two talkers.

The other…

I rolled my neck as the blueprint unfolded to something truly ridiculous.

A robot dog. A lot like my spy birds, but this was far more 'aware'. It could be fed samples and be able to track similar pieces of the substance I supplied.

A talking… robot dog.

I watched in horror as it merged with other blueprints to make dogs of war, some with portable turrets, some with the nailgun tech as claws, and others able to be equipped with a grapple launcher refitted for harpoons…

That's when it combined with something else and I began to jump up and down in absolute delight, shaking Tabitha as I babbled about it.

"It's a robot dog that can dispense coffee… that tracks where it dispenses it. Delicious portable coffee kept hot that follows me!" I explained excitedly.

"If I pay Laura with enough food, she does the same thing, right down to tracking," Tabitha said sarcastically, slowly pushing my hands off her shoulders.

"It can also do narrow atomic readings of a substance I fed into it and have a machine-like tracking nose that should be able to root out those plants among the sewer… something even Laura's nose might struggle with," I replied, trying not to sulk as my awesome coffee-pot dog was shot down so fast.

"Root… out?" Laura echoed, nose wrinkling.

Now they were dissing my Mom jokes.

I bet if I told them it could be a Dog of War Machine, they'd be excited. Kids had no appreciation for the finer things in life.

A cheerful butler robo-dog that served coffee.

What else did they need?!

"Urgh, these are amazing, but it makes my head hurt," Peter complained, looking down at my Robodog sketches as Nico quietly used his magic to make a rock float, some casual exercise he did, now openly on the kitchen table. Night had fallen and the Morlock's thing could wait until I built my new invention.

I stared at his hand, my head hurting as I tried to make sense of it, some part of what Nico was doing simply didn't… compute in my mind. It was energy, but not measurable energy… of desire, but not physics.

"I know the feeling," I muttered.

"I just hope Agatha is impressed with my control… but maybe I should practise moving water? Liquids are harder than solids and air," Nico muttered to himself. I was more impressed he was doing his English homework with his other hand while worrying about magic.

"Mother, I've come to bargain," Emma announced and I looked over at her as she stood next to Peter while jabbing a finger at the blueprint.

"You mean ask nicely and hope I feel extra loving today?" I asked dryly.

"Please! I didn't start any class revolts this year against unfair dictatorships of tyrannical teachers!" she said, hands clasped together.

This is what happened when we watched a movie and I fell asleep, letting Emma binge World War 2 documentaries.

Peter looked at her oddly but Nico just shook his head at him.

However, this lined up nicely, letting me do a rare, but lovely magical mother trick.

Giving something to your child you already planned to get therefore looked like a saint in their eyes. A little bit manipulative, but it let Emma feel like she swayed me so it balanced out as she got a sense of confidence.

I always imagined our first proper pet to be a fish or a hamster.

Not a power-generated robotic dog of wonder that was able to track things through disasters and dispense coffee with a primitive AI.

I suppose that was having kids for you.

Always getting more than you bargained for.

34: The Nose Knows?

Where was that damn wrench? It kept walking off just when I need-

I spotted the missing tool inside the open fridge, stabbed inside a block of cheese. Like a predator with purpose, I crab-walked over to it with a scientific hum. Tiny shapes of putty spoke around me but I was too in the deep.

I adored the blobs that made noise with their undulating meat flaps, but I was in the middle of my greatest work yet!

Now, why had I stabbed the wrench into the cheese? Did it help? I thought about it and it came to me.

The cheese would add the needed texture to the bolts. Lactobacilli was important…

I focused and the odd-shaped bolts fit into place as if reality wasn't working quite right around them. The panels that were far too rough to be useful were just perfect when I slotted them in. I looked around for the flamethrower jet, but it was missing. The putties seemed nervous when I asked for it.

I would add it another time.

I tightened in the last security bolt and ran my fingers over the hilariously large control panel on the side.

My beauty was complete!

Now, it just needed a few programs added. I made a short AI program in the span of twenty minutes, coding it entirely in binary which was fun, if taxing. I wanted to add a dozen redundancies and failsafes, but I ran out of room after the bad parent jokes data file was filled before I knew what happened.

I stepped back and the world seemed to snap back into proper alignment. I looked around to see Laura, Tabitha, and my kids struggling to hide a dozen dangerous weapons behind the sofa.

"What… are those?" I asked, only recognizing a few of them as turrets, net guns, pepper sprays, and a few of my sawblades.

"You put a coffee mug down on the blueprints then decided it was part of the actual plans. Can I keep this?" Tabitha asked bluntly as she held up some strange blender on a stick that whirred to life in a vortex of knives when she pushed a button.

"Most of it the stuff won't work unless it's plugged into… that," Nico spoke up and I turned to see the crouching form of the robot I built in less than half a day. I silently cursed. I had to go shopping for power cords and cutlery for the third time since I moved into this building.

The Sniffer Muttron looked like a great dane with gaintly legs and a stocky body. It's face was closer to a toy than a real robot with glassy visors that looked a little skewed. I grimaced.

Add one alarm clock to the shopping list. I knew that case from many mornings slamming it with my fist.

Laura looked tense around it and I wondered if she had bad experiences with robots when she was… not-Laura in the past.

"How is it charged up?" Emma asked from the open door of her room. I told she could watch me build it, but not to get close incase I gave her permission to let loose chemical warfare on her school.

I opened my mouth and then closed it.

I looked down at it and nudged my various Sandras. After a long debate, I reached down to its knobby tail and pulled on it, revealing it to be a plug that I stretched over to the wall and plugged in.

"This is going to send my electric bill into the stratosphere," I sighed, but it was for a good cause. Muttron's eyes lit up with a battery symbol gaining bars over time.

It only took ten minutes to get enough power to turn itself on.

I waited with bated breath at the first truly 'alive' invention I had made. The spy birds were close, but they didn't have a true mind.

" Hello! I am ' Super Niche Invention For Finding Esoteric Riches'!" it announced… in a thick Minnesota accent.

"I didn't program you with that accent," I said, trying not to sound too confused in front of the gaping teens and children.

" Correct! You betcha you did your best! However, your code had so many bugs that a lot of my original intended designs were lost! I rebuilt it with what I had along with a little trick from my secret bag!" Sniffer explained cheerfully. It was almost like a different language.

"My code was flawless!" I defended my insane self.

" Ooooh you coded in binary. That's not good," Sniffer replied simply.

"Hi Sniffer, I'm Emma!" my darling daughter said, so excited she was practically buzzing on the spot.

" Oh ello there, Emma!" Sniffer greeted, calling her something akin to 'Eeymah'. I walked over to the root sample that was nearly rotted and put it down for Sniffer to see.

"We need to find the source of this. Can you track it?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from my shoddy coding as fast as possible.

If Tony heard about what I had done, he would pee himself laughing.

Stupid Tony… stupid respectable JARVIS.

"Oh boy, that's a stinker!" Sniffer announced as he opened two slots in his nose and began to suck in the rotting fumes.

"Compared to what? You were born five minutes ago," Tabitha pointed out, lounging on the sofa with her new blenderstick.

" Gosh, don't ya know? I'm programmed to identify any coffee sample from over a million coded examples! I can tell you an Arabian Roast from a New York Black in no time flat! I have a 'nose' for class!" Sniffer said proudly and his tail wagged which threatened to unplug him.

Oh, that was what was taking up over 20% of his memory banks…

Still, I didn't have 'time' to program that many samples. I was beginning to suspect that my powers had a chrono-element to them. I noticed it before, but sometimes when I was inventing in a stressful time. I did three actions at the same time or skipped steps despite them working.

Was it possible if Sandra-Prime used the Mind Stone and Soul Stone to form the network… another Sandra had augmented it with her native Time Stone? If there was such a stone…

A thought for another 'time'.

" Hrm… this is a pretty unique sample. I'm not picking anything like it up in the street. I'll need more time to break down the compounds, but the root made up of carbons, water molecules-" Sniffer began to list.

I was also a little more 'aware' this time. When I was making Sniffer, I 'recognized' the others as important and loved ones, even if I was insane.

" Several types of reasonable fertilizers that are easily broken down-"

Could it be that the deeper I go into my powers, the more of its core power is open to me? Sandras that are too fringe or afraid only get the basics, but those willing to dive into it all get weaved into some… multiverse Stone powered admin pass?

" Inactive nanobots that seemed to stimulate the root's membrane as well as control its growth, making it seem aware-"

There was just so much going on and I was worried what else was still lurking in my…

Wait, what?

"Nanobots? Little robots?" I asked quickly.

" You betcha! Those are indeed what nanobots are!" Sniffer said with a bright praising tone.

"Wait, if someone has to use nanobots to control the roots, that means it's not a Mutant, well not an obvious one," Tabitha said suddenly as Laura frowned to herself.

" Not much I can tell you about them. They smell earthy and fresh!" Sniffer told me and I petted his head without thinking.

" Oh, I have been the 'patted'! I am now a good boy. Life has been very nice so far!" my robot dog announced as he hit 12% power.

Emma peered into his visor.

"Do you have any games?" she asked with a hopeful tone.

Sniffer's eyes went blank before turning up with a three by three grid with a cross and circle next to it.

"Would you like to play a game?" he asked my little girl.

I feel a lot better knowing Sniffer was not Wi-Fi compatible. He could connect in through a landline, but who had landlines anymore?

Inside Sniffer's memory banks. A folder tilted 'ASS.TRG.NO' was considered then kept in the core programming followed by a folder titled 'MSTR.SA.AFFIM'

The folder was highlighted then deselected… then highlighted… as if the compiler was uncertain of its value just yet.

It tried to delete the coffee profiles, but it had been locked behind a terribly difficult security wall made by the 'Barista'.

Nico and Emma were not happy when I told them that under no circumstance were they coming with me into the sewer to meet a secretive Mutant culture with Tabitha and Laura. For the first time in a long time, I had to put my foot down.

I apologized to the girls as we headed down the manhole that I used to discover the spider-cave. Tabitha wrinkled her nose at her hands after letting go of the ladder and Laura simply looked at me as we lowered Sniffer down.

Great robot, terrible climber.

"I've experienced way worse, you were right down commercial-level perfect Mom," Tabitha said so casually I nearly missed the context of her words.

"Logan once stabbed me when I was out of control," Laura said flatly.

I stared at them for a long moment.

"Gosh, you all are some bunch," Sniffer said bluntly. Tabitha crossed her arms and glowered at Sniffer.

"I will not be judged by a robot dog made by mad science that doubles as a coffee maker," she said snipply. I cut them off before I could witness my first awkward Mutant/Robot conflict.

"Sniff, how's the tracking going?" I asked quietly, still not liking how my voice bounced in cramped dark spaces. Sniffer turned, his eye visor showing a progress bar until it blinked.

"Not great, yeah. But could we follow that?" he suggested and we turned to see long gouges pulled out of the walls and bent pipes caused by the aggressive vines that had burrowed up into my apartment. The damage led down one tunnel and sharply dipped to the right.

"That could have been caused by anything!" Tabitha said with a huff, "The Lizard, alligators, super weird robots made by Oscorp, the A-Z of Spider-Man villains," she listed. Why did I live in New York again?

Oh right, I was a stubborn New Yorker who'd sooner burn than admit she was too weak to tackle what the city could hurl at her.

' We could analyze that?' Logic Sandra offered.

Negative, we're hunting evil roots that hate Mutants.

' We definitely need to analyze that.' she retorted.

Following the trail of destruction soon led us to a portion of the sewers that made my jaw drop. Some of the spaces down here were cavernous. Massive drainage chambers that could host a warehouse or three.

Other spaces looked like they were connected to tunnels you could drive a train through.

"I knew they were big but I didn't… grasp how big," I whispered and Laura nodded, her eyes always alert to the shadows around us.

"New York has documented cases of substantially massive spaces that exceed construction parameters being undertaken since the early 40's. Some have been linked to organized crime using them as hidden depots for the cocaine influx while others were simply rushed due to the rising destruction caused by different meta groups. Holes over holes," she said and I blinked at her.

"I didn't know you were a New York history buff," I said slowly. She looked down at the ground and she flashed me the smallest of smiles.

"Now you know," she said and walked ahead.

' … When you groom a young subject into a weapon, their developing brain is excellent for all information. The more immoral you are willing to go, the faster the tool can learn. Anything… sometimes knowledge for the sake of it,' Spy Sandra said quietly in my mind.

Can't… I just believe she's a history buff?

' No. No we can't.' Spy said firmly and went quiet.

If I ever met the people who did this to Laura? I'd introduce them to my metal grater… with momentous force.

"Oh! I'm getting a short uptick in similar particles of that awful root! More lefty than righty," Sniffer called out.

"North, where the East River pours towards Rikers. They had this cutest little shop there that does these amazing slingback heels!" Tabitha announced, pointing like a pirate plotting a course for booty.

Should I be worried that Tabitha maps the world by shoe stores? As we walked along the tunnels, finding more evidence of something like massive roots growing and retreating, the tunnel got a bit brighter as I got a charge, making my eyes glow.

Of course I get a charge as I head towards danger. I had to ponder; what might help me at this moment in time? What skill could help the most?

' Common sense' Logic Sandra said dryly.

But I had her for that?

' I could do with the help.'

Well, I hate to burst her bubble, but the closest skill to that was likely 'critical thinking' or something. Common sense was apparently… not common. I was tracking down mutated roots being guided by nanobots.

I had options. I eyed Laura and Tabitha, recalling what they mentioned about Morlocks.

Was… Mutants an option?

A second later, I got a tease that it was.

I put a charge into it and I nearly tripped over my own feet as the impossible filled my head. Mutants had an extra gene that at the beginning stage was simply revealed to me as biologically impossible for natural life. Instead of the gene itself, I was given a run down on how the gene could manifest. Early subjects of…

A long time ago?

Anyway, a lot of them developed three overly common types of powers with this gene. The first was a combination of telepathy and telekinesis. It was rare to have one but not the other. My charge informed me that it was even possible to 'teach' a telepath to use telekinesis with a high success rate.

This was due to Humanity's development of an advanced cerebral cortex. The gene was introduced or 'formed' when the brain was developing so it slipped into the process much easier.

The second was usually super strength. There was simply far too many variables and means to grant someone. These worked well because humans were just nuts in terms of physical prowess.

The last involved the aging process and vitality. Healing and immortality. Using one allowed the other, but not always…

I nearly fell over, but I was saved by Sniffer moving up close to me and offering me his solid body for balance. I couldn't believe this… this was just one charge and I felt like I saw Mutants far clearer.

Before Mutants were just… people with powers, but now? There was a system to it, a logic that turned what they did into a fact. The sun was hot, water was wet, and Mutants had powers.

It felt… good. Still, there was something in this field that was deliberately avoiding my gaze, like a piece of the puzzle that grew legs and was running from me.

Even with the Sandra Network, something about Mutants was not so easily learned.

Before I could ponder that, Laura's claws emerged loudly and we all came to a stop. Tabitha surprised me by standing in front of where I was, forming energy balls in her hand as if to silently tell people not to even think about coming at me.

From a shadowy side passage that I didn't even see, came forth three…

Oh. Those poor dears.

I stared as the front person stepped into the 'light' and their form was shifted dangerously to one side where their human skin melded to a red carapace down their neck and arms. One of their limbs deformed into a giant pincer of sorts that looked painful to open and close, muscles that shouldn't be in that kind of state started rippling. She looked at us with one enlarged eye that looked on the verge of emerging as an eyestalk.

How could this have happened?

My shared knowledge began to try to answer. Biologist Sandra was the best to take hold of the Mutant knowledge… to her horror.

The gene was likely working as intended, giving a mutation of a deadly arm appendage and protective skin. It prickled at something when I tried to point out that it looked 'half-finished'.

' Not half-finished,' Biologist Sandra muttered.

What? How could a mutation be only somewhat done? Did it get bored halfway through?!

' Stop yelling at me! I study lizards, mammals, and plants! Not magic evolving people! If I had to guess… and this is a damn guess!' Biologist snarled back at me, reminding me she was a tough cookie.

' If a normal gene was activated, it's due to stimulation. It'll begin its process, but if the person is no longer under that stimulation or stressor then the gene may have gone dormant again. It's possible that she can keep mutating or more if she was pushed to the extremes or perhaps as she gets older,' Biologist muttered.

I thought about it and wondered if that would help her look normal again?

' Doubtful. Mutations… evolution cares little for social norms. Beauty standards are not high on the list of priorities,' she said and went quiet.

"You make a lot of noise," she said, sounding a little rough in the voice department. Laura relaxed a little.

"Guillotine," she said and the crab-girl looked at Tabitha then me… then Sniffer.

"It's not everyday I find a weirder group of people down here," she grinned darkly, showing some of her teeth were serrated. Her companions shifted closer. I tried not to stare at them.

One looked like his eyes had fused and slid down the side of neck, leaving something in his head moving. The other one looked a little melted. Not as extreme as the two, but he would never blend on the surface.

Guillotine shot a wary look at me. Laura was quick to give an introduction.

"Boom Boom and…" Laura hesitated then cleared her throat.

"Doctor Mother," she said and I could feel my jaw drop.

What did she call me? Sure I mothered… and sure I could get doctorates.

That hardly meant you could just slam the two together and make a codename. That wasn't how that worked!

"Doc Mom is cool. She's the 'build cool shit' doc, not the 'experiment on you' doc," Tabitha supplied helpfully and patted the pleased Sniffer. Guillotine seemed to reevaluate me on the spot.

"Can you make water purifiers?" she asked slyly and I opened my mouth to say it wasn't the hardest thing but Laura cut me off.

"I'm sure if you brought her the parts and ample warning of when you wanted them along with protection, she'd consider it, but we're here on a hunt," Laura interjected.

"What's wrong with just helping?" I muttered to Tabitha who didn't look away as she responded just as quietly.

"Give an inch and they take a mile. Even the good ones want an edge down here," she warned.

"We're not so bad," the eye-neck man sniggered and shrugged. How did he hear us? I stared at him and his giant eye was… a little hard to ignore.

"But if Doctor Mother here wants to live with us and improve our living standards? I wouldn't object," he smiled and his massive eye squinted on his neck.

I could do that. I just really wanted to stop staring at his giant eye, but my own eyes weren't listening. I could barely notice Laura speed across the ground, pointing a claw to the giant eye.

"Don't… touch her," she hissed and the man held his hands up.

"Just a joke! A little of the come hither look always lightens the mood!" he laughed nervously.

"Eh, maybe going blind would make him more tolerable?" Guillotine mused to her melted companion who only grunted.

"It only makes them look! I don't brainwash, you fuckers!" eye-man screeched as Laura seemed debating if she should cut the eye out.

It was then it hit me.

I was the oldest here.

Oh God.

"Enough." I said and I put every bit of spy, lawyer, and logic Sandra into my tone.

"Mr…" I looked over at eye-man.

"Er… They call me Argus," he said and I would snort if I wasn't trying to make a statement.

"Mr Argus. I appreciate effort to lighten the mood, but using your powers on the unaware or unwilling can be akin to basically shoving your fingers down my shirt. You wouldn't do that, now would you?" I asked simply and he spluttered, but I turned to Laura.

"Now-" I cut myself off from saying Laura. Were we using our pretend names now?

"X-23," Tabitha muttered to me.

"X-23, let's not hurt people on their turf. Clearly recent events have people on edge," I walked forward with Sniffer at my side. I held my hand out to Guillotine, my hand to her deformed one. She eyed it for a long moment before taking it. Her grip was insane and she was barely trying. I was pretty sure the girl could snip metal in half.

"We're tracking the invasive plants going about the place. We want to either stop them or get enough information on them to help everyone here. If we're not welcome deeper into your land then we can go around, but we're not here to fight," I said and Guiltoine sniffed with a slight hint of uncertainty.

"You look like you couldn't fight off the urge to eat a taco, let alone a Mutant or a 'lock," she said before pulling her claw back.

"Hence the scary knife girl, the robot dog, and whatever sharp-heel inappropriate shoes Boom Boom is wearing that are accompanying me," I said dryly. This got me a dark smile.

"You could pick worse company. You sure you're okay moving through Morlock land? Lots of freaks down here," she said, provoking me.

I looked skywards, thinking of Norman, the Scorpion, and others.

"Just because they're 'pretty' doesn't make them any less of assholes than you," I said simply and this seemed to cinch some sort of decision in Guillotine's mind.

"Heh, fair point, Doc. Let's go then… we can shave an hour off where you're heading if we head through the camp," she said simply and turned on her heel to walk back into the shadows.

"Yeah, it is a lot stronger smelling that way than the other way," Sniffer said to me.

Next to me, Tabitha and Laura closed in like a protective circle.

I was just wondering how exactly they knew where we wanted to go?

Did the Morlock's know something that we didn't?

35: Light? Let there be Sandra

The Morlock Camp wasn't easy to find, which made sense when I had time to think about the type of people who lived in it. People run off the streets, people that looked out of horror films or with uncontrollable mutations, and rejectors of society.

They didn't want to be found by outsiders, period.

Even with our guide of the many-eyed man, Argus, and the crab-girl, Guillotine, it still took time to get to the camp proper after doubling back, twisting through tight corridors and more. The smell of cooking meat was the first thing I noticed, followed by the fact the spaces we were moving through were becoming less cluttered, more clean than the ones we left behind.

"Your… dog will have to wait by the entrance. Machines make people jumpy when they move on their own," Guillotine said with a blunt tone. Sniffer tilted his head which would have had a better effect if his ears weren't plastic molds.

"I am self-cleaning and programmed to be a 'good boy'," he promised and Guillotine didn't look impressed.

' These people have been traumatized by things. Best not to push it' Logic Sandra mused and I could see her point of her view. This was their home and allowing them to feel in control would be best for all.

"Sniffer, do as she says. We'll come get you when we get permission to move through," I told the dog who beeped with an affirmative.

"I'll stay with him," Laura said flatly and she had her gaze narrowed forward to an opening in the tunnel where lights from fire flickered and voices talked in a chaotic mess over each other.

"Don't trust us?" Argus grinned and Laura looked at the spot between two of his eyes, avoiding any possibility she would get caught in his weird 'gaze' power.

"Don't know the land, the chokepoints, the people there, and the exits. Don't like cages," she said back coolly and Guillotine looked like she understood.

"But you let me walk in there?" Tabitha asked, aghast as she held a hand to her chest in mock-hurt.

"You're a walking bomb, they'd be stupid to hold you down," Laura said factually. I noticed she didn't say anything about me, but I guess if they locked me up all I would need was some brick grime, some toothpicks, and time to spare.

I could build something to help me escape before long.

And wasn't that a terrifying thought?

The two led Tabitha and I on to the Morlock camp and I stared at something out of a fantasy book. A scene which was akin to some innocent adventurer entering an alien bazaar of a dozen strange aliens and people, each with familiarity or hostility that excluded me in every way possible.

Strips of stained red fabrics, old sheets, and construction tarps stretched between a huge tunnel space likely meant for flood storms, causing me first to see the whole thing as a downtrodden parlor of some giant spider before the flicking fires from campfires and barrels made shadows dance across all the walls; making the room seem bigger than it actually was.

The massive pipes that would allow flood water to flow in had been blocked up by some material I didn't recognise, a sort of blac tar that took on properties of metal. The camp itself was a hive of activity that showed dozens of people moving between five main areas. A sort of central bonfire pit where people sat and talked with a platform erected behind it with two people on it.

One corner looked to be the source of the cooking meat smell with a dozen of so mishapenned pots being used to cook watery broth, turn rats on skewers over a fire, or mush down half-eaten burgers or vegetable peels being collected from garbage bags.

Another corner looked to be stacked with a dozen hammocks or sleeping bags with a few of the bigger spaces curtained off or the walls themselves dug into to make faux-bedrooms that had guards on them.

The other sections looked to be haggling spaces and something involving people being tended by someone.

As we began to walk down the 'path' to the central pit, the hum of voices dimmed, but didn't stop outright.

We were getting looks.

Tabitha drank it all in, winking at some and waving to others.

I felt like I was dressed as a lamb and just walked into a lion's den.

"Stop," someone said, and this time everyone stopped talking, and I traced the voice back to the platform at the back where I saw someone step close to the ledge, coming into the light.

I saw it was a woman with a strange eyepatch over her right eye with short dark hair that danced around her neck. Her outfit looked to be designed for warmth but also easily to be discarded in a pinch.

A trench coat covered a tight shirt underneath which was matched by torn dark pants. Around her neck, a spiked collar could be seen and deep scars on her face indicated she was not shrinking violet.

I stared at her, trying to get her measure, but I had the strange sensation that as I tried to get a bead on her, she shifted herself. I got close to getting a base reading and she changed.

I wasn't even sure she was consciously aware she was doing it or not.

"Callisto, outsiders, but known to us. One of them has been giving us small supplies," Guillotine called and this 'Callisto' looked us over, face impassive. I turned the tables on her when she landed her gaze on me.

Spy Sandra didn't have… whatever Callisto had, but I had practiced against Natasha somewhat. I could be unreadable too.

"Your names?" Callisto asked after a moment and she had a sort of voice suited for bartending somewhere rough.

No shits taken nor given.

"Boom Boom," Tabitha said easily and I only hesitated for a fraction.

"Doctor Mother," I said with a sigh. It was a throw away codename, no one would remember it after today.

"One Mutant, one… not," the other person on the platform said and sounded unsure when he looked at me. This guy was definitely a Mutant with pale white skin that had a slight purple tint. His head had crests that swooped up over his forehead and he was powerful with a clearly defined body that he didn't bother hiding with any clothing.

His hands ended in claws.

I eyed him warily. Did I give off 'normie' vibes?

"Caliban, he can sense Mutants. Makes him a ripe target for all sorts of assholes. What are you doing out in the open?" Tabitha smoothly interrupted.

Callisto spoke for him.

"Everyone is being grouped together. Too many of us are vanishing in the dark," she said bluntly. She jumped down, landing with ease before us and I could see she was decked out in a dozen or so knives all around her body.

Did her Mutant power have something to do with predictability or something?

"We noticed, your problem followed us home," Tabitha said easily and Callisto narrowed her eyes, but didn't argue. I noticed we were sort of surrounded now.

Mutants of all shapes and sizes had gathered around the scene to watch. If they began to chant for blood or throw weapons at us, I was out of here.

"So, since we've involved now. Wanna tell us what's going on? If not… how about you let us just cut through the camp and head on? Either option suits us," Tabitha said and I mentally winced. I didn't know Callisto, but I knew being cute wasn't going to win her over.

"Please, we want to help before things get worse," I said, taking a step forward.

"What are you a doctor of? Flesh? Madness? Freaks?" she asked flatly and I blinked.

"Robot dogs mostly," I said without thinking and this was clearly not the answer she was expecting.

"She makes a mean Mac and cheese as well," Tabitha added. Callisto narrowed her eyes and seemed to be mulling something over.

"I'll talk with you inside my tent," Callisto said to Tabitha then shot me a look.

"Your guest can remain outside until we're done," she said with a tone that booked no argument.

"No offense, but I'd like her to be here when I get out," Tabitha said without moving, arms crossed. The two women gave each other the death stare before Callisto's lips twitched at the words.

"Fine, I'll ensure she's safe," she promised and I didn't like the way she said that.

"My protege will look after her until we're done talking. You have many connections, Boom boom, and I'd be a fool to overlook them," Callisto said and turned on her heel to walk off.

"Protege?" I echoed and something slid across my neck and then something poked into where my kidney would be.

"Ohh I get to be a tour guide to the pretty lady. Want a little scar to fit in?" a voice with an eager tone said and I turned my head slightly to see a woman in her late teens or early twenties standing behind me, long bone spikes protruding from her skin like daggers.

I did not show weakness by flinching.

"Let me guess? Calcium-Lass?" I asked blithely. I twisted, bringing her arm behind her back and my leg on her knee joint, the sudden rush of Krav Maga I learned coming in useful, even if my body was a little weak.

Pressure holds were fun because I didn't need to be super strong to hold someone down.

"I actually go by 'Marrow'," the woman said and I had a second to release her before a dozen bone-spikes emerged from where her spine was. I narrowed my eyes, but Marrow was grinning.

"Doctor Lady has got some moves. Maybe you'll be fun to show around after all," she mused.

' Thrill seeker, wanting to belong to a bigger picture, enjoys her powers, uses clothes to hide how much she dislikes their appearance-altering abilities' Logic Sandra supplied.

I went to say something when from behind Marrow, Laura appeared, letting Marrow's spikes impale her as she brought her claws to Marrow's throat.

"Don't," Laura said and Marrow struck a bit then held her hands up.

"Oh feral kitty. I surrender," she said and Laura stepped back and I tried not to… swallow hard at bits of what seemed like Laura's lung on the end of Marrow's back spikes.

I looked over to see Callisto and Tabitha were already inside a large tent off to the side.

That left me with a boney-lass and Laura.

Also a dozen or more staring Morlocks.

Of course this was when I got a charge, I closed my eyes to hide the flash and tried to peer around as I toyed with the charge. Marrow must have prompted my combat reaction, causing one to appear.

I put it into being more convincing and being able to sway people to my way of thinking, getting the Persuasion skill up to rank 2 which showed me a mind boggling way of mirroring posture, listening without agreeing, and how to slip in statements in generally blanket acceptable viewpoints.

It had some clear scummy uses, but there was also a lot of positive I could do with this. Helping the mentally ill, help suicidal people off the ledge, allow the criminal not to harm us and just go.

It was a tool that I wouldn't use on someone I loved, but it wasn't clear-cut bad.

' It's not about being charming, it's about being tolerated. People can tolerate a lot and in that space… you can shift things' came a new voice.

' Oh no' Logic groaned as a Sandra appeared with flowing dark hair, a low-cut v-top, a flamenco skirt, and a rose clenched between her teeth.

'I could use her' Spy Sandra said calmly.

Putting 'that' away for the moment, I turned to Marrow and Laura, both looking ready to see whose regeneration would fail first in a fight.

"So, a tour?" I asked and Marrow blinked once.

"I was joking," she said and I tilted my head.

"So… you won't show me around? You want to stand here until they're done jabbering about plans?" I jerked a thumb to the tent.

It took maybe three seconds for her to respond.

"Fuck no," she said bluntly and looked around to the gawkers.

"What? You got a problem?" she called and the other Morlocks dispersed, leaving us with the illusion that everyone was now ignoring us.

Marrow didn't even wait for me before she took off, talking over her should with a rather casual attitude for someone who threatened to stab me only five minutes ago.

"You're a doc, so you'll get on with Healer," she surmised and I liked the sound of that. A Mutant called 'Healer' had to be decent right?

Unless he got body mass from dead pigs or could retro-engine a virus out of thin air…

The man Marrow led us to didn't look like most Morlocks. He didn't have any clear Mutation, but had the 'wise old hobo' look down to a perfect act. His white long beard hung low over a stained sweater he wore under a raggy trench coat.

He ran the tiny medical area I spotted before, using the cleanest sheets and boiling water to treat a selection of people as he moved around, using what seemed to be telekinesis to bring objects to himself as needed.

He put his hands on a younger Mutant with scales like fish and a humped back. Something…

Something happened that twinged off my Mutant Knowledge, like a sonar, but I couldn't understand it. The young Mutant perked up as one his arms slowly shaped itself out.

"Healer, got a doc from the surface," Marrow said brightly as if she was acquainted with the man. I wonder if she donated bone or marrow for the others? Healer took one look at me.

"She's no medical doctor," he announced with absolute confidence. I almost allowed my skills to begin to analyze him, but I held them back.

I didn't want that to become a habit. I didn't want to pick people apart before they could get a word in.

"Theoretical and mostly first aid responder," I said and Healer mulled that over then nodded.

"I can see that yes," he said before turning to the mutant in his care, telling the young teen to take it easy. I could easily hear the compassion in his first as he spoke to his patients. I looked around at his supplies and frowned.

I think he saw it because he chuckled.

"Not exactly a first-class clinic, but we get by," he said and I blushed.

"Sorry, I'm a busybody by nature and I was seeing what you were lacking," I said and he looked around with a sigh.

"If they're injured, I can fix that. I can't fix hunger, deficiencies, sickness, and depression. Some things I can't just handwave away and living down here in the tunnels doesn't allow the younger ones a lot of sunshine," he added.

I looked around at some of the items visible from the medical area, spotting a lot of scrap metal and more. I mentally prodded my knowledge, seeing if I had the know-how to make a solar lamp.

Mechanical Engineering for the equipment, chemistry for the crystallized silicone, and weirdly, something about my Bubble knowledge came into fruition, showing me a good orb for the light.

But the power source, it had to be portable or-

"Is she insane?" the Mutant with the weaponized bones asked and Laura almost didn't answer, but felt the need to defend Sandra as the woman's eyes expanded like a cat's who had seen prey.

"In a good way," Laura said firmly.

She watched as Sandra bargained for the glass bottles gathering in one corner, the shattered pieces of no use to others. She scuttled over to a sheet of metal and tested its firmness.

"She is one of the wisest people I know and she wants the best for others," she added.

"Sounds like a doormat," the other girl said.

"The last person to think so got a saw blade to the face," Laura responded coolly. Healer handed Sandra something that Laura couldn't quite see and the fragrant smells of cooking rats prevented her from sniffing it out.

The elderly man retreated as Sandra cleared a table off for herself.

"What did you give her?" Marrow asked as Healer pocketed twenty dollars as payment from Sandra.

"She wanted some of my rarer things down here," he admitted.

"Morphine? Crack? Rare Mutant juices? A battery from a Sentinel?" Marrow joked and Healer shot her a dark look at that last one.

Laura just tightened her knuckles.

"Coffee," Healer said, sounding puzzled and Laura's eyes went wide before she pulled the two back a little.

Before Sandra, a cooking fire started before the orange flames turned blue then white as she poured the glass in.

It looked like she was almost glassblowing a perfect round sphere.

How she was doing that with a pair of tongs and oven mitts was hard to guess. Sandra moved and things happened. Laura could almost say it was like Sandra was doing a play, but some scenes were skipped, causing the woman to move between steps of her work instantly.

Even without blinking, Laura didn't know how the fire was contained or how she fashioned a metal stand… how the glass became coated in a strange watery blue substance. It just happened and Sandra made it work.

"Intriguing, and she's not a Mutant?" Healer said to himself, but Laura heard it regardless.

She didn't quite show her claws off, but she would not let the Morlock's keep Sandra.

Laura had just finished painting her room and she didn't want to move again because her Landlady was kidnapped by sewer people.

Sandra was also… someone Laura didn't mind.

"And a drop of fuel," Sandra announced with glee as she poured a single drop of boiling coffee into the sphere before it became sealed over from the heat.

The moment the coffee interacted with the liquid inside, the ball began to emanate a red light.

Slowly, the light turned from a red to orange then yellow, and finally settled somewhere close to pale yellow and white.

Sandra turned looking like she was smiling as the Morlock tunnel filled with light.

"One solar lamp!" she offered, holding the glass orb with her bare hand. Nearby, children with out of control mutations stared at the light with open awe while the older Morlocks distrusted it on sight.

"A lovely gesture, but how long will it last?" Healer asked, not quite pointing out the usefulness of a lamp that would only last an hour.

"A month? I rushed the energy source because I've never worked with glass like this before," she admitted sheepishly.

"Your energy source was coffee!" Marrow called, no longer 'at ease' around Sandra.

"Coffee is great!" Sandra argued, a little offended.

Laura just kept back and watched as Healer took the orb as if expecting it to explode.

They began to chat over the fact the orb wouldn't give as much vitamin D as the actual sun, but as Healer pointed out, 'some' was better than 'none'.

"Hey, how about some water filters?" someone called and another stepped forward.

"Proper thermal blankets would be good, yeah?" the woman with mandibles asked.

"No, we could get some antibacterial wash and cleaning facilities," another argued. Sandra looked between them with uncertainty.

"It's not out of the question-" she tried to say.

"Screw that noise. A detection system for intruders keeps us safer in the long run."

"A healing device, take some strain of Healer!"

"Stealth tech!"

"Please, I-" Sandra backed up for a moment. Laura made to move forward when Healer spoke up.

"She'll help whoever she wants. Instead of begging like children, how about some damn compromise and offer her something. It's the way down here," he snapped.

There was a pause.

"Cooked rat for some repairs!" a woman hollered.

"Flushed wedding rings? Two for a job!" someone countered.

"I'll haunt your ex for a decent coffee pot!" a bat winged Mutant yelled with a swooping bird beak and vein skin.

"Damn, that's actually tempting," Sandra said and Laura made a mental note to ask some old contacts to look at her ex.

For reasons.

"How about democracy?" Sandra suggested and grabbed a dirty fish bowl.

"We all write down what we want and whatever has the most votes, I'll do that! Not sure how long my friend will be, but I'm happy to help out!" Sandra said, trying not to look nervous.

"I thought that was blowing stuff up?" A puffer-fish looking guy asked a skeletal woman.

"That's 'demolition', shit-for-brains," the woman replied with a growl.

"I can't write!" someone said, a near sentient pile of tar with trash stuck to him.

"Just tell me what you want and I'll put it in," Healer said and raised his hand.

"I will not be voting out of neutrality," he added.

Laura was not surprised when the most voted item turned out to be a portable microwave that didn't need to be plugged in.

It turned out to be far simpler since all Sandra needed to do was take the dozen or so husks of the microwaves the Morlocks possessed and changed them to run off… coffee.

Everything cooked in these machines had a coffee aftertaste. Odd, but it didn't stop the excitement.

Laura already saw packets of coffee being traded and bartered for as the powder could be used to recharge the machines.

She suspected the theft of coffee was about to skyrocket.

Laura went to mention this to Sandra, to warn her that she may have created a power-vacuum of sorts when she stopped, seeing Sandra making a little spindly dancer toy for a young Mutant with bulging cheeks and slit-like eyes, her hair had all but fallen out.

The toy stuttered with ticking noises and soon began to dance to the girl's delight.

Sandra's smile made Laura falter.

She just wanted to help and Laura didn't know if she could ruin that.

Sandra helping would cause unforeseen consequences, but that wasn't because of something she did. Others would take her actions and use them for themselves and f it got back to Sandra? That smile would fade.

Laura would take care of the issues before they reached Sandra. Tabitha had a phrase for these people.

Well, she had two.

' Fuck around and find out' was her less graceful statement.

Her second and more poetic statement was ' The dildo of consequences rarely arrives lubed'.

Laura? Laura didn't use words. It was a bad habit she was working on, and some people were going to learn that she hadn't mastered it yet.

36: Bone? Boned!

I was standing behind the counter at work, staring out at the rain as it washed down over the city. It has been two days since we visited the Morlocks and were ultimately turned away.

My little act with Healer had gotten me a little support but despite his insistence I was helping, I had only really earned favor with Morlocks that would already have been open to outsiders. Most of the camp simply saw some woman with nothing wrong with her coming down and shoving it in their faces how some people got the powers and no drawbacks in their eyes.

Even with Laura and Sniffer, trying to circle around the Morlock's camp ended up with us losing the trail and being forced to turn back.

Healer did say he would keep wearing down Callisto, but it would take time. I walked out into the alley and looked skywards for Peter or anyone else.

The alley behind my job had become something of a superhuman meet-up.

Something tapped my ankle and I nearly screamed in surprise. I looked down to see that girl, Marrow, peering out of a manhole with a devilish smirk. She had been poking me with a bone protruding from her hand.

"What are you doing here?" I asked and her face took on a harder expression.

"I don't want you to get in trouble with Callisto," I added, fending off the idea I was against her in general.

"She's my teacher, not my mother," Marrow huffed as she nearly slithered out of the manhole with ease and left the thing open for a quick escape.

I looked her over for wounds, but Marrow seemed 'fine'. As we stared at each other, she fidgeted, giving away how young she must be.

"You take orders right? Commissions?" she asked after a moment and pulled out wads of dirty cash that clearly had been collected over time.

"Maybe, uh give me a second," I said and vanished inside to ask for a break and my boss, Mr Geoff stared at me.

"Aekure, your shift ended an hour ago remember? You're only sticking around until the new guy shows up, which he hasn't. That means he is now unemployed unless he has a good reason. Go away," he instructed.

"Could I get a coffee and a bagel instead of overtime?" I asked and he looked at me with disappointment.

"You're taking the pay, but help yourself," he said with a grunt. I didn't need the cash after Tony sold my flex tape… but this was a pride thing I guess.

I brought the goods out to a frowning Marrow who eyed the offered goods with a narrowed glance.

"All my customers get food and drinks, don't think it makes you special," I said with a scoff and she accepted them after that.

"Don't get the deal with coffee, it's hot sludge," Marrow said as she downed the cup and dug into the bagel.

' Scalp her and put it above our door as a warning…' Barista hissed.

"Coffee is something that everyone can get into. It has a little something for everyone," I said with a smile so fixed it was rigid.

"Uh huh… so does serial murder," Marrow countered before wiping her hands free of crumbs.

' This bone-child has a way of disagreeing. Outrageous and to the face… cute if it wasn't so obvious it was to change the topic' Charmer hummed.

"So, how can I help? I want to hear what you want before I agree to anything," I said and Marrow nodded as if expecting that. Her red hair flopped and I saw she had rather more pronounced cheekbones than last I saw her.

Could she shift her bone structure like that? That was cool, if a little weird.

"Do you have any way to make bones pierce metal?" she asked and the question threw me for a loop for a moment.

"Your bones?" I asked and she was stoic, giving nothing away.

"Listen, I need details. How often? Do you want stronger bones or your current bones to beat metal? Is it iron, an alloy?" I listed and each question made her look down at her six hundred dollars or so with more and more doubt.

I mentally sighed and looked over my trees for anything related.

Mutants, Biology, Chemistry, and a few others 'twinged' but nothing jumped out at me. I was too spread out for such a specific request.

"My bones didn't pierce the vines much when they attacked and before when they tested Sentinels in the sewers, I barely dented them," Marrow said with near force as she spoke.

I eyed her and my knowledge of Mutant knowledge kicked in.

"Mutant powers are continuously evolving. Outside of extreme stressors or stimulations, your powers are only going to get stronger," I said and Marrow turned and stabbed the nearby dumpster with her wrist bone and the white thing snapped off loudly making me wince.

"I don't have that sort of time."

I gently took her wrist and winced as the broken bone shafter was absorbed back into her skin, the flesh bleeding until it healed over with little issues.

"I don't have the knowledge I need for this right now, but I can work on it," I said and Marrow tilted her head at me.

"Is that your power? Getting a solution to anything?" she asked with a slight sigh.

"Something like that," I said as Marrow closed her eyes.

"Help me and I'll throw my support in with Healer. Callisto is strong, but she's not thinking beyond surviving. Help me and I'll give you full access to the sewers outside of Masque's camp," she offered and I felt a chill go down my back.

"I'm not looking to get involved with politics," I said quickly and Marrow shot me a raised eyebrow.

"Can't say that after you gave Healer a sun in his pocket. You made a statement and it's going to be remembered," she warned.

"It's for health reasons!" I argued and Marrow slid her legs down into the manhole.

"Choosing a side is healthy. Unless you make your own," she said slyly.

"I'll drop by in a couple days," she said far too casually.

Marrow could make the most innocent of statements sound like trouble…

I stared at the redhead in my home, reading one of my 'special' books.

"Natasha!" I said, scandalous and she looked over at me with no emotion.

"Need a better hiding place for these," she said simply.

I was so happy it was a school day…

"Not that I'm not happy to see you," I said as I snatched the book out of her hands and tossed it in a kitchen cabinet, "but what's up?" I asked and Natasha stood up slowly, her seating position chosen for its blind spot in all the windows.

"Coming to check in with you and your new Mutant 'crusade'," she said vaguely and I blinked at her innocently and Charmer just backed away with her hands raised. No way was she going to bluff Nat.

"Really? Me?" I asked and Natasha didn't look impressed as she crossed her arms.

"Sandra, you're an asset. Someone SHIELD wants protected at all costs. The things you are inventing could change the world, like Stark's Arc Reactors or the technology brought on by the invasion," she explained as if I needed to be reminded.

"And I want to change the Morlock's world and chase down evil plants. It's not that big of a deal!" I exclaimed then noticed Sniffer was missing.

"Where's my robot?" I asked and there came a muffled noise from the closet.

"Miss Romanoff! There is still no robot cats to be found in this here closet!" my dog called.

"Keep looking," Natasha responded with zero shame. My flat stare didn't even phase her.

"His voice was grating," she explained after a moment. The headache between her and Marrow was enough to get me charged. Now I had two, one from this morning and now.

"I'm not going to stop," I said and Natasha shrugged once.

"You need more protection than a girl with enough property destruction to make it its own file and a clone of Wolverine. We can assign people or you don't need to personally go down," she informed me as she moved around in her dark jacket and jeans.

"I'm not sending people down into a mess I'm not willing to personally do myself," I argued, ignoring the voices in my head.

"Also, the Morlocks would just love seeing SHIELD agents escorting me. Bonus points if we carry handcuffs and needle guns," I continued to rant.

Natasha put a hand on my shoulder with a look that made me shut up quickly. What a scary woman…

"I get it. This is why you need to play the 'game'," she said and I stared at her.

"Like… Pac-Man?" I asked slowly.

"What's legal blackmail?"she asked and my Spy answered with ease.

"Leverage."

"So, if you want to throw around weight and influence a group, what do you need to do?" she asked slowly as if I was a child.

"Get leverage, but you're asking me to get a foot over SHIELD, some super secret agency that's been around since World War 1," I argued.

"You're underestimating yourself again and I'm not talking about SHIELD. I'm talking about the Morlocks. They're a group, with layers and politics. If you want to help them and they want to die? Make them sit up," she instructed and I felt like she was sort of going back on her own advice of being careful

Natasha was weird.

She pulled out her phone and turned it on, showing a picture of me and Marrow chatting. The chills returned. I hadn't seen Natasha and I had looked for watchers…

"First rule of toppling governments?" Natasha asked with a strange expression which was I think a smile.

"Find out who is dissatisfied and turn them over to your side."

"I'm just trying to help some out cast Mutants in the sewers, not rule a country," I pointed out slowly.

"Same thing really," Natasha said and I shot her a bewildered look.

"No it's not!" I yelped.

Natasha reached into her pocket and pulled out some bendy shades and put them on my face.

"Show me what you can do, star-eyes," she said with amusement as if I was now her spy apprentice or pet.

I took the glasses off and stared at the brand.

What the hell was 'Dolce & Gabbana'? I hadn't seen those in Walmart. I'd give them to Emma, she needed some new glasses for the summer.

Natasha left not long after and I finally spent my two charges.

Thinking of Marrow made me put another charge into Mutants and I nearly had a seizure as knowledge flowed into my mind. The X-Gene… how could it possibly be doing this? So many outcomes, but almost fixed to a single outcome on manifestation?

The gene, traced back to some of the oldest Mutants, showed the gene hadn't deviated too much which was unnatural. The gene sometimes took stock of previous generations or environmental threats as it manifested but most often it seemed powers came as if picked out of a hat.

There was ways to manipulate the gene with existing energies, but my new knowledge that a lot of the 'experiments' came at the cost of great peril for the Mutant. I wasn't too upset because this was the surface level results, basically meaning a ton of assholes had experimented on Mutants, but I'm sure as I dug deeper, I'd get legit procedures.

Next, for Marrow's sake, I put a charge into the study of bones which turned out to be called Osteology. The field meshed nicely with Biology, causing a lot of overlap with anatomy and several different fields.

Mostly, I got a nice helping of dentistry as well, which was unexpected.

With those two together, I thought one more about what Marrow wanted and found a useless treatment about grafting metal on bones, but Marrow actively discarded her bones so I chalked it up to needing more work.

Metal on bone… what kind of idiots were getting science degrees?

I finished sliding in the last of the cement mix over the hole in my building where the vines popped out. The hole was covered, but the result left an ugly gray circle in the otherwise normal vinyl floor.

My knowledge barely covered 'large' holes, but I just pretended it was a hole someone had put their foot through.

"A rug would cover that up," Peter said as he slid into the building and looked at the hole with concern.

"Tabitha and Laura business," I explained which made Peter make an 'ah' noise.

"You know, I could be made available to help in exchange for some cookies?" he said and I looked at the teen with cement mix on my cheek.

"Bribery? In this day and age?" I asked aghast. I remembered reading something about Spider-Man this morning on my phone.

"Aren't you busy with some criminal spree?" I asked and Peter looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, Black Cat. She's been helping herself to some stolen artwork and questionably obtained jewels," he admitted.

' Oh no, you poor boy' Logic Sandra said with a groan.

I prodded her. What? What?!

' Peter is so moral and this Black Cat is very amoral' Logic Sandra lead me down the breadcrumb trail.

So?

' Black Cat is a hot young woman in a catsuit and a half-pulled down zipper. Peter is a healthy young man'

"You don't let any odd women mess with your head," I said and Peter's eyes went wide.

"M-Mess?" he echoed.

"Don't let her play games with her. Treat her like any ugly man," I instructed.

"Right! Will do that! Won't let her play… with me," he trailed off. I stared at him.

I may need to make anti-bad-girl field for the boy.

Before I could ask if this Black Cat woman had thrown her charms about, Nico appeared, dragging Peter away.

"Hi Mom, love you. Gotta show Peter something," he said and like the wind, he was gone.

I blinked and someone giggled. I looked over to see Tabitha writing her name in the still wet cement.

"I'm going to start chasing you now," I said, diverting full power to Spy and Warrior Sandra.

"Laura…" Tabitha called, backing away with her hands raised in surrender, and upstairs a door slammed shut and locked itself. Knowing she was on her own, Tabitha tried to be charming.

"Miss Landlady, don't you look ravishing today?" she said sweetly. I was sweaty, dusty, and cement was drying on my face.

She turned and ran.

Inside my head, my Sandras howled like a pack of Hyenas and I gave chase with my cement spreader spade.

"TABITHA!" I howled.

I only chased her as far as the front step before I rushed back and smoothed the vandalism over before it dried in. Sighing in relief, I went to stand on the front step, enjoying the smell of the city after a rainstorm.

The glimmering roads, the shiny buildings, the flowing water going down the drains, the red dot moving up my leg, the birds singing, and-

I turned in an almost spin, raising the cement spade. Sparks flew and instead of my brains getting blown out, the bullet went through my shoulder. I tumbled out of sight and slammed the door shut behind me. I laid against the wall breathing hard.

I should be safe-

A shot punched its way through the wall inches from my face.

Shit, I bought a super front door but the walls are still normal!

I crawled over the floor as more shots punctured my poor building and I desperately wanted to get up to Nico, Emma, and Peter.

I pulled my phone out.

"Nat, sniper," I panted out as the other end picked up.

"Go down to the basement, avoid windows. Keep something between you and the wall at all times. Assume they have thermal readings on you," she said and ended the call.

I was taken by surprise when Laura hauled me over her shoulders in a carry, moving without a word.

"Nico-" I began but she shook her head.

"They got Parker," she said firmly. Right, my kids had Spider-Man in there with them.

"Any idea who's shooting at us?" I asked as we entered the basement.

"Got a glimpse of some of them out my window. Uniform suggested Purifiers," Laura grunted as she looked at my shoulder.

"The nuts chasing Tabitha? The ones who burned down all those houses?" I asked and mentally added 'the ones who kidnapped some girl to resurrect some nutso?' Or was that someone pretending to be them to shift blame?

This was too complex for my little sore head. Oh a charge… lovely.

"Yeah, them. They might burn this one down too," Laura warned and I stiffened before I tried to sit up.

"I won't allow it," I said simply.

"Bullets clean through. Going to hurt for a while though," Laura said and I winced as she used a piece of my sleeve as a loose bandage. Upstairs, the front door seemed to hit the ground with a massive thump.

"Laura, they're messing up my floor!" I hissed, a little crazed.

I looked around the basement. I hadn't actually been down here other than to work on some wiring and check the hot water. It was filled with crap from previous tenants.

I put the charge into Krav Maga because it was rank two and-

I stood up from behind the desk, moving gracefully as I stared at the two idiots who had broken into my building. My men, good hardworking men with families to feed and unwilling to pedal drugs for Fisk, laid on the ground, shaking and trembling.

"That was a mistake," I said and the brighter of the two took a step forward.

"Your days of running this drug trade are over! Your actions in the city end here," the annoying blond girl wearing a skintight suit cried.

I wanted to glare, but I kept my body tense, but ready to pounce.

"Surface level thinking. 'Drugs are bad' is such a moronic statement that I want to sigh," I said as I stood before the two. I was a few steps higher than them and it let me look down at them.

Cloak and Dagger were a special brand of narrow-minded.

"I have clinics for clean needles, safe rooms to use, a medical doctor in every facility to ensure they recover," I said, raising a hand before making a fist.

"If we could cut drugs out of the city, I would. The alternatives are safer drugs, better facilities, more help to those that need it. The other alternative is Fisk and his dirty discards he pedals," I said with a growl.

"Drugs, alcohol, addictions, and more… it targets those that can't escape it and you lot would sooner cut my throat than offer solutions. Tell me, Dagger? What is your solution for the people?" I asked and her dark companion moved closer to Dagger.

"We will keep removing those who sell drugs. Eventually the city will learn," he growled at me. Cloak was such a beast masquerading as a man. His arrogant sense of justice fell flat as he left a trail of bodies in his wake.

"The prohibition would have a few lessons for you," I said but ducked as Dagger flung a projectile at my chest. A second later, I rolled and slipped my jacket off, revealing a dozen bangles that danced on my arm.

Cloak appeared before me.

"Tonight, you will feed the darkness, Mother of Crime," he snarled. I slammed my fist into the air just before him.

"I prefer my original title, Cloak," I said before one of the bangles glowed and Cloak was flung back hard into a wall with a gust of wind.

"The Tiger of Brooklyn."

"Cloak!" Dagger cried out as if she wasn't expecting this? As if they would waltz in here, kill me and walk off with no trouble.

The arrogance.

I tapped my feet and the set of bangles around my ankles powered on, allowing me to blur across the room and bury my fist into Dagger's stomach.

I stepped back as my left arm became enveloped in dark carbon.

"W-What?" Dagger whispered as I stood over her.

"Nanomachine. Good for the soul," I said before hooking across the chin and through a coffee table.

That was when the alarm went on. I eyed the cameras.

Wilson Fisk, Spider-Man, and Daredevil? All of them were coming in from different entrances.

My my, wasn't I popular today?

Maybe I could get another taste of the devil's lips before I broke his ribs again?

I could only hope.

-and rank three would get me blueprints! I paused.

What the hell was that Sandra? Being in her head made me feel sexy, confident, and really tired of bullshit. Still I had new blueprints and my jaw dropped at them.

The basic was the 'Fister'. A generic power-glove that had pistons and could break concrete, it also was heavy as hell. The second was sort of not what I needed. A set of chest braces that would 'bind' kinetic force output by so much, making it a limiter of sorts. The last was some sort of combat drug that basically turned off my pain sensors.

Alone, these didn't seem much, but my blueprints were growing and they began to slot together before my mental eyes.

My fister merged with my Grater, forming sort of elongated claws that could punch through steel and tear on the way out. The name of these war crimes were 'Shredder Claws'. Removing the grater, the Fister also merged with my Hookshot to form a harpoon gauntlet that impaled enemies and dragged them to me.

How unethically fun!

The Force Binder chest also had a few combinations, allowing me to combine it with my Pigeon Drones, creating 'UFO Suckers'. Flying birds that slowed momentum in an area they circled.

Then the Force Binder merged with Flex tape to make what I can only assume was the straight jacket from hell. A draining jacket that also was hard to remove.

The Pain Drug mixed with… of course, the Hum pill. Adding to the combination even more, creating a powerful pain reliever that allowed the pill to produce faster healing as it didn't need to worry about driving its user insane with pain.

The Humdinger Pill, name pending, took nearly five hours to make a single pill with my current equipment so there was that.

"They're coming," Laura said and I stood with my eyes fixed on the pile of garbage nearby.

"They won't reach my babies," I warned and Laura stepped aside as before my eyes, the parts of a bike, an old disc player, two lightbulbs, a hose, and a bunch of smart toys left to rot, reshaped themselves into something new. The process took minutes… if that.

How did I make this so fast?

Questions for later.

The men in black and yellow pressed against the walls next to a shut down where a trail of blood indicated one of the targets could be inside.

One of the Purifiers reached for the handle as the other continued to demand the sniper back up respond.

There was the sound like a motor turning on and the door exploded outwards, sending them flying as a massive fist broke through the thick wood.

One of the Purifiers landed in a patch of cement, smearing it badly and absolute silence filled the hall.

"Laura! These assholes are messing up my floor!" someone said with a strangled tone.

All the Purifiers could see was the glowing blue eyes in the gloom.

"Not in my house," the voice said and things went very wrong very quickly.

37: Coldson? Expansion!

I had, once again, committed a war crime. I stepped through the broken basement door as Laura shot over my shoulder like a bestial shadow.

The confusion and discord allowed me to get in close to these 'invaders'. The Purifiers had come for my house, my home. They had brought their brazen yellow and black outfits that represented hatred and fear into my home.

What was worse at that moment?They had ruined bees for me.

The attackers were quick to get back on their feet, but unlike constantly running away Mutants or scared children? I wasn't such an easy target. The metal surrounding my hands and face were hastily cobbled together pieces of metal with exposed wires. They were in essence a mix of both the Shredder Claws and a protective weave.

My main goal was to survive being shot so I could get upstairs to everyone else.

My secondary goal was to take down as many of those sons of bitches I could. I reached the first Purifier and grabbed him, my barely functional exo-suit hissed as not only did I lift him clear off his feet, I hurled him with a simple twist of my body.

The fluid combination of knowing how to break someone and having metal arms to do the job for me. I was careful, however, I didn't want to impale the man in the larynx, spine, lungs, liver, jugular, subclavian artery, kidneys, heart… and, well I had many things to be careful about.

I knew way too many ways to hurt someone permanently.

Lawyer and Logic Sandra were quietly whispering to me how I could easily be spun into the villain here if I went too brutal which is why Laura was only cracking a few skulls instead of her preferred method.

Spy Sandra said that vengeance could be handed out better when there was less eye witnesses.

I ran along the wall, ducking as a gun went off and sparks flew off my shoulder pauldron. I may look like I was cosplaying as a cheese grater, but damn if it wasn't keeping me alive.

I reached the shooter and in my panic, I jumped and dropped kicked him as he raised his gun and he went flying through the building's front door and into an illegally parked unmarked van.

Fantastic, they were racist murderous zealots and bad drivers. I really didn't like them. The man I kicked slumped to the sidewalk and I clambered to my feet and headed towards the stairs, only to throw myself to the side as someone fired down the stairs.

I landed hard and wished I spent a little time installing padding on the inside as metal dug into my skin on the impact.

The Purifiers must have used the fire escape to get to the upper floors.

I could only hope Peter finished those snipers up fast. I could use a little spider-miracle. I pressed my back against the wall as Laura took down another one of the Purifiers, one of her sides looking raw.

"Shit, shit," I muttered, my mind a panicked mess of ideas and fear. I was almost ready to hunker down and freeze when Warrior Sandra shoved her way to the front and made me focus.

It was a strange experience to have things slow down to a crawl for a moment, enough for me to 'think'.

I looked. I saw. I planned.

Peter was a little weirded out. There was trouble and he wasn't the source of it. He hadn't caused the attackers nor was he their target. Peter felt oddly out of his comfort zone. He leapt across another roof.

"Peeking into a lady's window? Shame on you," he called as he webbed two men to a nearby wall and yanked a gun off another.

"Spider-Man, this doesn't concern you!" one of the Purifiers warned as he reached for a gun on his hip.

' You're trying to murder the only place I can be honest!' he wanted to scream but instead he huffed.

"I believe that this is a neighborhood and I'm a friendly spider!" he corrected as he shot a web at the man's leg and pulled him onto his back before hitting across the jaw.

This was the second roof filled with gunmen, they really wanted someone in Sandra's building and he suspected it was Laura.

The girl had a few bounties in different countries when she was less inclined to be social.

There were gunshots going off inside the apartment complex.

"No!" Peter cried and got ready to swing in through a window in which he would totally pay Sandra back and fix himself.

Only he didn't need to as a Purifier went sailing out a second floor window with a cord from a vacuum wrapped around his leg. Inside the building, something that looked like a mecha-Wolverine began to carve through the walls like a ninja and drop down on people. The scary machine person cut guns to pieces and was making a strange war cry.

"NOT MY HOUSE" it screamed as it used one Purifier to beat another like a human billy club.

O-Okay then. He zipped a web over to the top floor in time to see Nico using some sort of sigil on the floor to cause a Purifier to spasm and pass out with smoke coming off his form.

In the kitchen, the awesome robot dog, Sniffer, had three more knocked out around him but Peter didn't see 'how' the dog managed to defeat them.

"You okay?" Peter called and Nico spun, a burning stick of sage in hand.

"I nearly cursed you," he said with a sagging breath of relief.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but my life would just eat your curse and add it to the pile," Peter said dryly as he hopped in and webbed the down men to be safe. Nico gave him a flat look.

"The 'Spider-Man' curse doesn't exist. It's just bad luck," he said and Peter didn't see any wounds.

"Where's Emma?" he asked quietly and there came a noise from under the sink in which Sniffer stoutly protected.

"She's safe, but my Mom-" Nico began and there came a strange silence in the building, a sort of stillness. The apartment door slowly creaked open to show a swinging lightbulb that slowly bobbed over a mess of metal, claws, and some blood.

Peter had a sense of people, in a strange way. He knew which villains were goofballs that he could taunt all day, which were deadly but prone to a good mockery, and then there was the 'others'. The ones where Peter only focused on escaping them or taking them down as fast as possible.

Looking at Sandra AeKure in that moment, he knew she'd be one of the last sorts if she ever lost it.

She took off the protective metal mask and looked so relieved.

Peter watched as she embraced Nico then Emma, leaving behind her highly unstable exo-suit. He finally swallowed nervously and knew if Nico or Emma ever went missing?

He might not be able to stop this mother from tearing New York apart to find them.

I felt like I had a drill going off in my head. The 'embracing' of the Warrior Sandra had left me with a pounding headache that didn't want to go away. I couldn't exactly deny the effectiveness. I had gone from a terrified woman to a smooth warrior. I had cleared my building of Purifiers in under ten minutes and secured the perimeter as I did so.

It was frightening in a way I would never have considered. To be that 'effective' in the business of war.

SHIELD was all over my place and Natasha looked calm as she set a cup of coffee down on my table across from me.

"Cat's out of the bag. We need to step things up," she said and I twitched.

"We can relocate you and the kids to a remote place. We have solid safe zones in the Congo, Gambia, Austria, Denmark, and a dozen other places," she said, sounding like she was making a business report.

I stared at her. She looked right back at me.

"You've been attacked five times, to our knowledge. You're too exposed here," she tried to explain.

I sipped her coffee.

"Your idea, and your coffee, is shit," I said quietly and she looked amused despite the circumstances.

"The other option being leaving you here so the Sinister Six can attack you for knowing Spider-Man? The Brotherhood of Mutants because you house two known Mutants? Whoever Norman Osborn feels like hiring to mess with you on any day of the week?" she asked and her tone was too casual.

"I'm not running away," I snapped, finally losing my composure. I felt my emotions were too raw. Was I mad? Terrified? Guilty?

I was everything and more.

"You're not running away, you're surviving," Natasha corrected me with a cool look.

"What about Tabitha? Laura? My other tenants?" I asked.

What about Peter who was just opening up? Nico who just secured his magical tutoring? Emma and her school life I worked so hard to ensure never suffered from my divorce?

"You can still own this place and have it running. The paychecks will just take a bit to get back to you," the SHIELD agent promised.

Of all the things I thought about, I imagined Norman Osborn watching with a smirk as I was packed away in a SHIELD van with a box of things and my head hung.

"I'm not leaving. Make a new plan or wash your hands of me," I said calmly and Natasha's face went blank as she retreated behind her spy facade.

"You know this isn't the safe option," she replied slowly, her hands clasped together. I noticed more than a few SHIELD agents who had been assigned to sweep the area and clean up paused to watch our 'showdown'.

"Nowhere is safe. I can make this place safer than most. I'm not being bounced between SHIELD labs and bunkers whenever someone bangs rocks outside my window or points a gun at me," I said back, pulling up my own spy knowledge.

"You're risking your lives, and others," she added.

Low blow, Nat. Fair, but low.

"That will never change, no matter where you take us. I won't ignore people in trouble. I won't turn away from injustices because it makes SHIELD's life easier. If you want a sane logical woman who can see risks and take the safe path all the time, I suggest you go look around business graduates. I'm a illogical woman who is going to keep making stupid choices," I said, voice like steel.

"And that's part of the reason you make my job so hard," came a new voice. I turned to see an average looking man with short receding brown hair. He wore a suit and I could see all those around him stiffening.

"Sir," Natasha said, standing and I pointedly remained sitting.

He didn't even ask if he could come in, as if my house was just a crime scene he was running.

"Sandra AeKure, I'm Phil Coulson, Director of SHIELD," he said and I stared at him. To my annoyance, he kept talking as if I had said something.

"Agent Romanoff here predicted this might be a challenging opportunity to pitch to you," he said and took a seat so he was between myself and Natasha.

'Opportunity'? 'Pitch'?

'Challenging'?

"Director Coulson," I began and my voice was light, airy almost. Natasha's eyes snapped to me, confused before she covered it up. The man had a smile that was so lukewarm that I had the urge to set him on fire to see if I could get some legitimate emotion out of him.

"I believe you have some serious misconceptions and I would be delighted to clear them up," I smiled, sipping more horrible coffee.

Spy. Lawyer. Logic. Charmer. Warrior. By your powers combined, I make 'Don't Test Me' Sandra.

"Oh?" he said, clasping his hands on my table.

"You're operating on the idea that I will 'come quietly'?" I asked and he blinked.

"I had no intention of doing any such thing. I will bitch, rave, foam, and bite whoever forces me to do something right now," I said with a wink.

"Quite a threat," Coulson mused. He still saw me as a footnote in some report, how cute.

"My second operation will to be leave a dozen messages to Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Agatha Harkness, my tenants Laura and Tabitha, my lawyers Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson, and whoever else I can reach at that time," I said and some of those names made Coulson stiffen ever so slightly.

"Most of those names are already in deep work with SHIELD and will likely insist you go into protection for your own safety," Coulson said, acting as if hadn't paused.

I put my phone on the table and very deliberately began to scroll through the short list. I reached 'Stark' when Coulson raised his hands.

"Let's… not involve Stark," he said after a moment.

"Oh I'm not involving him," I said, having my finger inches from the call button. I looked Coulson right in the eyes.

"You are," I finished.

"This is a lot of drama. You're an interesting asset that Agent Romanoff has recruited, but I don't think it's worth all this hassle, yes?" He tried to redirect the conversation.

Using Natasha as a source of guilt. Lowering my own sense of importance to the agency, and then hinting that I was being childish.

Coulson was an agent, but he wasn't a spy.

I could hear Nico and Emma in Nico's bedroom, trying to pretend everything was okay. Nico was going to protect Emma with big powerful spells and Spider-Man would always save the day.

"I'm not your asset. I'm someone willing to lend a hand to Natasha or Melinda every once in a while. Do not treat me as if I got SHIELD's logo stamped on my ass and don't presume to think you can control me through insults and disregarding me," I said, voice turning crisp and cold.

"That was not my intent-" he said, raising a hand.

"I know what your intent is and I'm really sorry that you have to see people and life in such a way that you think about assets and risk factors, but I am not your soldier," I said and nodded to the door.

"Since you forgot to knock, I think you can work out by yourself how to leave," I said and he stared at me.

"I'm not your enemy, Sandra," Coulson said finally.

"And you're not my friend either, so let's just end things here," I replied, looking down at my coffee as I felt burnt out.

"The offer to relocate is always open," he said and then stood up.

"I'll leave before I make things worse," he announced as I watched his annoyingly well-fitting suit vanish through my front door.

"Impressive, but stupid," Natasha summed up a second later. She was right, of course, but I couldn't stomach even playing with the idea of running away.

Playing SHIELD politics long enough to cling to New York.

I could have made bridges to a powerful man like Coulson, instead I smeared myself in mud and screamed at him as I protected a little hovel from someone who had no interest in it.

I was feeling horrible until Natasha slipped a piece of paper across to me. I stared at the weirdly formal legal jargon that took me a second to figure out.

"I found this interesting. It was filed an hour ago," she said and went to make me more shitty coffee that I didn't mind drinking if it was from her.

The document was how the buildings on either side of me had their owners selling up due to 'unforeseen complications of the environment'.

It was a nice way of saying 'my new crazy neighbor brought in scorpions, Purifiers, and murder vines and I want out'. I eyed the price and checked my bank on the phone app thing. A minute of confirming my identity and I checked my income versus the price of the buildings.

I bought them now then it would take…

Three weeks to recover financially. I should just buy one and semi-merge it with the one I have but I had this bad feeling if the other was sold off, Purifier sympathizers might want to use it as a spy house or SHIELD might move in and turn it into a fortress of Coulson.

The idea of waking up, looking out my window and seeing Phil Coulson's face was so unlikely to happen but it still didn't stop me from grimacing at the idea of being neighbors.

He would read the newspaper at the kitchen table.

He'd do something… Coulson-like as a hobby. Build model boats in bottles, read Shakespeare for fun, or collect baseball cards.

The Purifiers might also do something to be bad neighbors, like exist, but Coulson…

Urgh, Coulson.

I bought both buildings.

Who knows, maybe I'll turn one of them into a massive hippy commune full of 'risk factors'? Maybe I'll turn it into a Morlock shelter?

That was less to do with Coulson and more me thinking of possibilities now.

AeKure Acres was growing and I had no clue where it would stop.