Chapter 12: Some Foggy Decisions That Should've Been Dis-Mist.

The bitch urinated on my bed," Elihas Starr bellowed with a red face.

This was not the lingering fragrance of a passionate night that he had expected. He shook her awake. As the woman fought to take control of her weighty eyelids, he slung her legs off the bed. He grabbed her clothes up from the floor, and threw them on her lap. She didn't respond beyond falling backwards onto the bed. A big yank brought the dazed woman to her feet.

"You're leaving," he said. "Get your things on and expedite yourself." He pushed her into the bathroom to dress. Seconds after putting on his white shirt and navy blue pants, he noticed that there was no noise in the bathroom. He looked in to find her sitting on the toilet seat with her head hung down.

He dressed her as fast as he could. She didn't stop him, but her periodic groans about quick jerking movements causing her head to ache got on his nerves.

"Bitch. I don't care about your hangover, your headache. I don't care about anything but getting you out of here."

Her silk blouse wasn't completely buttoned and part of her bra was exposed. Her hair remained a mess. Her panties were hanging out from her small purse. Elihas was holding her at arm's length as he pushed her towards the front door. He didn't want her urine smell to contaminate his clothing. He opened the door as the two men from Gaxton were about to knock.

They whistled at the ill-dressed woman, thinking that a revealed brassier was provocative. She gave them a crooked smile. As Elihas nudged her through the door, the thugs' thoughts of propositioning her for a later meeting were melted away by the scent that clung to her. They made sure that she had plenty of room to move pass them.

She tripped on one of the four steps leading up to the sidewalk. The impact against the hard cement steps fully awakened her, and the peripheral non-response angered her. Neither of the men who witnessed her fall tried to help her up. Ignoring the painful parts of her body that were seconds away from showing bruises, she turned to give them a scowl. She began to get up as she snarled a parting comment to Elihas.

"If I get home and I find out you took back the money, I'm coming back to kick your—"

"Silence, whore," the odd shaped man snapped back. "Get out of here."

She straightened up and folded her arms in defiance.

"Here, chickie," the black-haired man said as he slipped her a few bills. "Dat's incase Romeo did. Now be on yer way."

The money was considerably more than the price she and Elihas had originally agreed upon. She expressed a more-in-this-world smile. "I don't have to go home right away. I just need some aspirin and I'm ready to go. Now if you boooys-"

Balboni replied, "Thanks." He pointed his thumb towards Elihas. "But we're leavin' town wit' dis mutt dis minute. Go home an' take a nice, relaxin' bath."

She shrugged and said, "Your loss."

When she turned to leave, the woman made sure that she had a good grip on the short railing. If she fell again, she wasn't expecting these gorillas to help her up.

The men quickly turned to Elihas. They noticed the swelling on the side of Elihas' lip that resulted from his fall in the apartment. They mistakenly figured that the less-than-dainty woman had punched him, and they smiled. Ignoring the urge to razz the odd shaped twerp, the brown-haired brute spoke.

"No more delays. Get yer sh-t an' let's go."

There was no argument. The man whom people called Egghead was no fool. He went for his attach case and luggage— he had packed them yesterday.

Feeling their dagger-stares behind him, he locked the front door. Maybe boasting that he could help Gaxton would prove to be a better decision than it presently looked. Yes, Elihas will come through and he'll earn everyone's respect and admiration.

"Good thing you smell better," the brown-haired man said. "Otherwise, you's be riddin' in da trunk."

Yes sir, respect and admiration.

Billionaire Tony Stark was asleep on his bed. Neither daylight, nor alarm clock (if he had bothered to set one) could have stirred him from sleep before his customary noon wake-up. But today there was a persistent itch on his rear that the sleepy industrialist had to get to. He rolled onto his side and reached behind him. His fingers moved, but his sit-upon felt nothing. Worst of all, the itch was still there. Angered that he had to fully open his eyes, Stark discovered that he was still in Iron Man's armor from the shoulders down.

It usually took five minutes after opening his eyes before Tony could collect himself and remember the night before. However, this morning he immediately had flashes of policemen's faces and then a trip to Manhattan to look into FBI supervisory faces.

Now why was that? Oh, yeah. That cowardly skunk who turned a weapon on Happy. Ehhh, Herman, ehh, Shultz—yeah. But hey, first things, first.

There was a "whizz" sound here and a "uuu" sound there, followed by a sigh of relief. Stark had finally dropped his lower body protection to scratch his itch. Yeeeah, man.

Stark sat back on the bed with his "trunks" and leg armor around his ankles. He remembered that last night he had his head gear set to police scanners in order to hear if the stolen weapon was used elsewhere in the city. At the top of the hour, Iron Man switched to the 6 minute news spot that interrupted almost all AM radio stations' signature programming— perhaps the scum committed a crime outside of the Tri-State region and the media would pick it up…. Tony had hoped.

It was frustrating not being able to pick up the trail of the piece of sh – t and get his hands around the coward's neck.

In the process of listening in to the AM station, Iron Man heard that Giant-man suffered a great loss. The Wasp and Captain America were now a couple. Tony had not thought much about it last night. Sure, he had passing sympathy for the size-changing partner, but Iron Man was in the middle of hunting down a dangerous menace.

Now, in a more sedated frame of mind—as sedated as a hangover would allow— Tony didn't even feel that much compassion.

Stark was a man who had determined to keep his love for his secretary, Virginia Potts, under wraps. She appeared very willing to enter into a relationship with him. But inviting "Pepper" into his dangerous life also meant inviting her to become a constant target for his enemies. It wasn't going to happen.

So why shouldn't he forget his heartache by having other women … in particular, one female Avenger?

Wow, those slim, but sculpted calves and thighs on the Wasp. And that a – s; you could bounce a quarter off that firm baby

Tony felt that he could move in on that since he really wasn't undermining the red-garbed ally. Giant-man was already history for her, right? The big guy looked like he was way behind the dancer-built Wasp— like on her rear view mirror (and fading).

Think about it. Tony and the Wasp were perfect for each other… until he got tired. Look, they laughed at the same jokes— the jokes that the overly prudish Giant-stiff frowned upon.

As Tony Stark, he had squeezed her hands a couple of times in conversations and she reciprocated. That wasn't the response of someone who was happy in a relationship. She apparently had the same zeal for life's thrills as Tony had— that, in itself, was enough to wonder what she had seen in her then-boyfriend. Her eagerness for the "new" also meant that if Tony walked away, she'd probably had his replacement in view before their split. Damn, not having a clingy female around when you needed to move on sounded like heaven. Annnd, she could make him forget Pepper— sure, she could.

Now the fact that the Wasp jumped into Steve's arms without any prior indication meant that she was as quick to get it on as Tony was. Winning her over from the nice, but penny-less and extremely un-hipped relic was going to be easy.

Yep, the Wasp was out there, ripe for the picking and a perfect counterpart… again, until he got tired of her. And if it meant that there would be a rift between himself and Cap, who ca-?

Hey, wait a minute. The team was working great together, mounting victories on top of victories. Maybe bedding the Wasp was a bad distraction. Yep, it was a pretty bad idea. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't already have a long list of bed-warmers. In fact, one was currently in his room.

Tony turned to see the sensually curved beauty in his bedroom. She had a rich deep tan color, long elegant neck. She gave his mouth and insides all the pleasure he currently desired.

She also possessed the three biggest qualities he needed: To be there solely for his pleasure, to be quite when he needed silence and the ability to take his mind off of Pepper. NOW THAT WAS A PERFECT BEDROOM COMPANION.

And he took advantage of the fact that she was right there, right now, within reach. Tony brought the flavorful, shapely thing to him. He tilted his head back and openly displayed the familiar wild thirst that showed her that she was invaluable to him.

Finally, in a near orgasmic gasp, he managed, "AHHH! Nothing beats bourbon in the morning."

Moving the morning along a half hour later, Nurse Jane Foster turned the key to open the door to the medical office. She found Doctor Donald Blake with his head on top of his forearms. His forearms, in turn, were on top of his desk.

Unbeknown to any mortal, Thor had attended a five-hour dinner and peace conference between Trolls and the dwellers of the Golden Realm. If he felt out-of-place, it was only because the Norse Legend was a fighter, not a statesman. Still, the Prince of Asgard was present to lend the air of authoritative representation.

After it finished, the Son of Odin went to the office of Dr. Blake to work on a stack of quarterly tax forms and to review medical records. Unfortunately, whereas the immortal could withstand 6 consecutive days without sleep, when he reverted to the mortal, Dr. Blake, the 1 AM to 6 AM session eventually took its toll.

A firm, feminine hand stirred the doctor awake.

"Jane? …. No, no I'm all right. I guess this old doctor can't tolerate those all-nighters as I did years back when I was cramming for college finals."

She refuted his assertion about his age. Then she gave him a stern lecture that ended with an opinion that he needed someone to take care of him if he couldn't see his own limitations. Jan took a clean sheet out of the medical closet, and placed it over one of the couches in the waiting room. She then walked Dr. Blake to the area.

Referring to his Monday schedule, Jane said, "You rest here, Darling. The office won't open for another two hours. I'll have coffee and a breakfast sandwich waiting for you when you wake up."

He rested his head on the freshly cleaned nurse's uniforms that Jane had folded into a pillow.

"Where would I be without you?" he asked.

"It had better not be in a woman's apartment, that's for sure."

They could finally talk this way now. The side steps and dodges away from the inevitable between two loving, but hesitant, hearts had been brushed away. She knew that he cared for her; he knew that she wanted to give romance with her boss a chance.

Even in assuming his other persona, Thor loved Jane Foster. His father expressly forbade his intimacy with the mortal woman, but the Odinson's feelings could not be changed by a mountain of royal degrees.

Purely out of habit, Jane put on the radio. The speakers, hidden in various parts of the waiting room's ceiling, awoke with WCBS-FM. The music tip-toed into the room. The station featured easy-going music that was used to calm the most excitable hypochondriacs (and Dr. Blake had his share of them). But even the soothing music, its hush tones and a comfortable sofa could not completely weigh down Donald Blake's eyes when Jane was in the room. She was beautiful, intelligent, diligent and more than worthy of his admiring love.

With half closed eyes, he watched her prepare the office for the morning appointments. It was only last Saturday that the mad Asgardian, and Thor's adopted brother, Loki, kidnapped Jane in an attempt to push the mortal to don his identity of the Master of Thunder. Loki's plan was to fight him in a field of the evil brother's choosing.

Having Thor's mind distracted with the safety of his beloved and the Adirondack battlefield familiar only to Loki, the evil half-brother was sure that he could totally pummel Thor. The evil brother's vengeance upon the golden-haired prince seemed a certainty.

Loki saw success in the first part of his scheme— in forcing Thor into being— but he failed to vanquish his enemy. Jane was saved and King Odin granted her the gift of forgetfulness. Still, the strenuous ordeal should have required a lengthy period of bodily recuperation. But here she was two days later, tending to her job and taking care of the weary Dr. Blake. She was amazing.

The chimes over the radio signaled that the music would be interrupted for the news and weather. The first item that came across the airwaves spoke about a freak accident. In New Hampshire's Otter Brook State Park, a strong wind turned the simple kindling of a morning campfire into a forest inferno. Even as the news was being reported, the wild fire was rapidly heading towards a village near the State Park. Small county fire departments were divided to attend to two jobs. Two thirds of the men tried to hold back the fire. Unfortunately, they were backtracking from the flames that would not surrender their advance. The other third were watering down the houses and, with the police, began evacuating the infirmed and elderly. Even if that evacuation was fully successful, there would be thousands of families left without shelter if the fire could not be held back. Currently, the flames were using the winds to make long jumps forward and render fire-fighting efforts meaningless.

Dr. Blake's exhausted body rocketed off the sofa.

"Dear, I think I'm ready for breakfast. I'll go down to the corner deli and get something for us."

"Nonsense, sweetheart," Jane replied while pushing him back towards the couch. "You go back to rest and I'll call them to make a delivery. What is it that you want?"

The blonde, thin man attempted to make his request with a divided mind.

"Oh, never mind," she said. "I'll just order a scramble egg and ham sandwich like you usually have."

"Thanks… Eh, if you'll excuse me, I have tol go to the bathroom." He scooped up his wooden walking stick and sped by her.

"Certainly, dear. But you were so dead-set on rapidly going downstairs. When did you discover your little emergency?"

Once inside the bathroom, Donald Blake scolded himself… Great, really great! The bathroom— was that the best he could have done? At least if he tarried on the Deli errand, he could blame a long line or the tardy elevators on his way back.

The bathroom?! A bout with constipation could take just so long. She would be knocking on the door and what will happen if he wasn't there to respond? When he finally returned, somehow "I fell into the toilet and accidently flushed myself down " didn't seem like a plausible excuse.

The man who was generally patient with others, refused to use a tired mind as an excuse for this bad maneuver. Still, time was wasting and self-butt-kicking had to wait. He opened the bathroom window. Broad shouldered Thor wasn't going to make it through there, but skinny Dr. Blake could. Assured that no one saw him, the mortal stuck his upper body out of the window and stomped the lower end of his cane against the building. A flash of light appeared and the visage of the mighty Thor followed. He leaned further out and allowed himself to fall out from the window. One mighty leg shoved him away from the structure and he was free to whirl his uru hammer.

As the mallet's head circled over his head, he lifted skyward as if he was a helicopter. Possessing power over lightning meant that he also had its essence of light at his disposal. Hence, he willed the head of his hammer to assume the capability of accelerating his travel to the speed of light.

The revolving head of the awesome MJORNIR released a blinding light that appeared to be a giant halo over the immortal's head. Thor tilted his wrist so that the hammer hurled forward in a northeastern direction. The estimated speed of 186,000 miles per second could have stripped the green impenetrable skin off of the Hulk or the scaly hide off of the Fantastic Four's Thing. But he was Thor.

The shiny envelopment around him lasted less than a blink of an eye. When it was gone, New York's sunny skies had been replaced by New Hampshire's clouds. Seeing that he had slightly passed the black column of smoke rising up from the forest, Thor again employed his hammer's enchantment and assumed his normal rate of travel.

He descended in front of the fire battalion at the outskirts of town. His presence left the Chief and the firemen with their mouths hung open.

Thor's deep baritone voice asked, "Art there any of thy men inside of the Park? Art there any civilians still therein?"

After the astounded chief shook his head no, the muscular Weather Master said, "Good. I need not fear for animals, as they have, no doubt, acknowledged the danger and have retreated."

He then instructed the less instinctive humans. Moving his eyes from one side of the gathering of uniformed presence to the other, he said, "Thou shalt witness a vortex— a storm as none thou hasth witnessed afore. It will draw the fire up into the sky where it shall be extinguished. Thou may experience a vacuuming wind effect pulling thee towards the forest. Fear not; tell those experiencing this to slightly lean their bodies in the opposite directions. Nothing other than a glove or light weighted items will be pulled in.

"I would caution, take heed to thy breathing. Use your radio to alert all Midgardians around yon forest. If they feel that the air is being sucked out of their lungs, utilize their hands and breath through covered mouths; but breath regularly, or thou wilt suffer lung pains.

"Then prepare thyselves for a downpour lasting a period of 40 seconds. I trust thee and thy comrades to have kept spectators clear of the fire area, sir."

The chief had no words in the presence of the intimidating Avenger. He could only nod. Then Thor took to the air. The New York radio station had reported that the winds were strong, so that meant there was a fight between warm and cool air above the forest. What else could he ask for? Thor swung his enchanted hammer in a circle. The winds and clouds came together to darken the skies much more than the previous cloud covering had done. The assembling filled the air with a steady rumble akin to a distant freight train.

The clouds darkened as they began to swirl above the forest. Suddenly the distant train sound became an ear-battering roar as if the train was on top of the people.

The winds began to pull the humans towards the forest, as Thor had warned; and the sight before them robbed them of their breath. In a spectacle not seen outside of Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandments, a portion of the dark clouds funneled down more than half the distance to the earth. It made the tremendous, rising black smoke look as thin as a finger. Those Midgardians who dared to peek up into the three- mile wide opening of the tower-like mass, would later swear they saw white, blue and red lighting appear and then get swallowed up by the stunning blackness. Tree branches lifted skyward like hands praying for a miracle.

Onlookers gasped as the smoke was vacuumed up into the mouth of the funnel. Then the large flames from the trees rose up as a fiery, radiant, swirling tornado. As with the smoke, the last soaring licks of flames were eaten up by the sky's black, wide tower.

Finally, the roar and the grandeur of awesome blackness that reached down returned skyward. Once it rejoined the rest of the body of clouds it became a raincloud.

Stunned silence robbed the world of noise. Then the fire chief heard someone behind him yell, "Get ready. Here she comes."

They saw it coming down. But they weren't prepared for the larger-than-usual drops that stung their faces. No one complained, though. This was Thor's way of wetting down the trees and shrubs to kill any lingering small sparks.

The rain stopped as the Thunder Master had said. He descended down to see if his services were further needed.

Splashing freely through rain puddles, the civilian crowd ran forward to cheer the red-caped Avenger. The fire captain shook his head and just marveled.

"I knew you were strong enough to fight back the Hulk—"

"Along with champion Trolls and Storm Giants," Thor allowed his mischievous nature to sneak in a boast.

The man concluded, "But I never would have believed that you could do THAT!" .

"Pahh," Thor replied with a downward brush of his hand in front of himself. Thor turned away in mock indignation over being underrated. When he turned back to the Captain, Thor saw fear in his eyes. Well, so much for prolonging his jest. The Norse Legend smiled and winked, to the man's relief.

"Ye of little faith," Thor remarked in humor. He took off without another word. The dark clouds were dispersing to reveal the sun again. But all human eyes were on the ascending immortal. Suddenly, they saw a light replace the tiny figure of Thor. It was a light that outshone the golden circle, and some shielded their eyes. Then in an instant, it was gone.

Dr. Blake came out of the bathroom no longer rubbing his elbow and left temple— actually, why would he have to? It wasn't like he banged his elbow against the window frame while entering the bathroom. And it wasn't as if he had to climb back into the bathroom so fast that he lost his balance and his head hit the edge of the toilet bowl (certainly, that wasn't the end of his body that usually met the bowl).

Why, if those two things had happened one would think that Dr. Blake had been hanging his legs out of a window 20-story above the sidewalk. What a silly idea.

At any rate, the thin physician emerged from the room feeling more exhausted than when he entered it.

"I… I.. I have to rest," he said as he made his way back to couch.

Jane sang out in mild annoyance. "I didn't hear you flush. Now don't tell me that I have to follow you, like you were an un-potty-trained little…"

When she opened the door to the bathroom there was neither odor nor evidence of use in the bowl.

"Donald?" she inquired.

"Look, I can have a false alarm like everyone else, can't I?"

His words were fast and he dove onto the sofa to close his eyes.

"Okay, okay," she responded.

He heard her surrendering giggles at his apparent embarrassment. That was fine. If Jane had eased up on her inquiry, he didn't have to get into a detailed lie.

Jane thought that perhaps he was a little annoyed with her question about such a private bodily function. She tried to come up with something to ease his mind and relax her beloved enough so that he could sleep. But all that she could think about was the same subject that caused a buzz throughout the whole city. And that was…

"Can you imagine the Wasp and Captain America? I don't understand it. How long have we heard that she and Giant-Man were a couple? And now this. A member in the same team that you and your former boyfriend belong to? This wasn't well thought out. Or maybe she doesn't care how her fling will affect the unity of the team.

"There's a bigger picture here, isn't there? The Avengers are our protectors against things too big for the military to handle. This distraction can't be good for them, nor the world. I'm angry at Captain America for being dumb enough to be sucked into this, but the Wasp …. She looked like the chaser, not the pursued.

"I mean that has to rank up high in the list of selfish recklessness. Honestly, some people never outgrow their childish self-interest."

Jane stopped when she looked at the doctor on the couch. He hadn't heard a word. She wasn't disappointed, though. Jane brought out another sheet and spread it over her sleeping beloved.

A news bulletin about a sudden squelching of a forest fire came over the radio speakers, but that was the least of the woman's concern at that moment.

A soft kiss on his cheek, and a "pleasant dreams" later, Jane resumed her preparation for the first appointments.

Winding down the roads of an affluent-above-affluence area of Fairfield Connecticut, Industrialist Norman Osborn had a change of heart. He sat in the back of his limousine and coldly "phoned" his chauffer to turn back home. Osborn he wasn't in the mood to go to his plant.

True, Gregor Shapanka's refusal to join his "security staff" had ruffled Osborn's feathers, but the Goblin had left Shapanka calling a card last night. That had calmed Osborn's anger towards that individual, for a spell. Currently, the source of his fuming was the reason that the tycoon had sought an assemblage of talented assassins in the first place— Spider-man.

Osborn had never before felt this anger, this disgust over a human. But that was because no one before had ever turned away his attack so convincingly. Months ago, Spider-man defeated the Green Goblin's allies, The Enforcers. He also escaped the hands of the Goblin himself. Accidently waging a battle in the same cave that the brute, The Hulk, was using for a hideout was, at first appearance, a mistake. But when it became apparent that the Hulk's anger over being discovered was aimed at Spider-man, things looked promising. Then just like that, the Hulk disappeared deeper into the cave and Spider-man was safe and victorious.

Now the whole scenario was replaying in Osborn's head and fouled his mood. Damn that costumed clown. The outrageously attired, web-swinging simpleton actually got the better of the far superior Norman Osborn. It was a humiliation that could not be tolerated. The very thought of the indignation made Osborn spontaneously kick the limo door. The otherwise calculating man was taken by surprised by the resulting loud thud.

The chauffer pressed the button to lower the glass partition between his employer and himself.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Osborn.?"

Calm, calm, the multi-millionaire whispered to himself before answering.

"No, nothing. I had thought that …. I had seen a spider and I tried to squash it. I was wrong— it was nothing. Please call Mrs. Wendell."

The driver called the Oscorp Executive Secretary over the secured CB radio wave to announce Osborn's change of plans. As the driver raise the glass behind him, he saw something. The Industrialist could hardly contain his sudden anger beyond his face distortions. The chauffer's experience with many Osborn flare-ups taught him to say nothing when his employer's face went through those exercises.

The industrialist recovered long enough to de-fog his mind— to wrap his wild anger in the straitjacket of reason. He would try to relax himself with his latest hobby. He again addressed his chauffer.

"Take the back road to the mansion and stop at the rifle range. I want to get some shooting done."

Reference: Loki kidnapped Jane in Journey into Mystery # 108 (1964)

The defeat of the Goblin and the Enforcers occurred in Spider-Man # 14 (1964