FIRST SESSION

Samson walked over to the bar, "Would you like a drink?"

Reed Richards thought about it a moment, "How does alcohol affect you?"

"Not in any meaningful way. Banner is the same. Thank God he can't add alcoholism to his other problems. I understand Steve Rogers also has a good, working relationship with booze. But there was a time for me when that wasn't so, college."

Reed Richards had to laugh, "Yeah, I added that experimentation to all my others in college."

"Not too badly though," Samson said, "You're a scientist and engineer. Narcotic use in all its depraved glory, is more prevalent among artists." Samson returned to the large, overstuffed chair that Ben usually used. Two drinks were in his hands. He handed one to Reed. "So alcohol doesn't really effect you either?"

"No."

Samson handed Reed one of the two drinks. "Still," he said, "There is something about the rituals, going through them can still put you in the right mindset even if the chemicals no longer do. And very few things say 'I trust you,' to another man like a drink."

"And people will tell their bartenders things they would never tell their doctors."

Samson held up his glass in a salute, "You watch Star Trek too; we're having more in common with every passing moment." Samson stopped to take a sip then. Reed did the same. It was bourbon mixed in some subtle way with lime juice.

"This is good." Reed Richards said.

"I bartended in college. I need to keep it up, just in case this pshrink to the super set gig dries up." Then Samson leaned forward, "Tell me about the Thing and The Puppet Master. What's their relationship?"

Reed Richards took another sip, he sat and thought on Samson's question for a moment. "On paper their relationship is as in-laws: Philip Masters is Ben's father-in-law. In real life…Masters has been an opponent to us several times. When we see him, Ben is at odds with him; we all are."

"How did Masters take to his daughter marrying Grim?"

Reed had to chuckle, "Badly."

Samson sighed, "I expected as much. Still, Masters didn't try to kill him, instead he kidnapped him."

"And he, and The Mad Thinker, took him and entered the Negative Zone."

"You have any illuminating thoughts as to why?"

Reed had to shrug, "We never learned all that much about the Negative Zone, a couple of bad things came out of it, and I nearly lost my life there. Dealing with it was one of those times when you look at Frankenstein as an object lesson, one you need to take to heart."

"There are things man was never meant to know."

Reed shrugged, "That works."

"But you never sealed it up?"

"Frankly I don't know how to seal it up. Oh I could cut the power to our portal and dismantle it. But other people know about it, Victor being the one who comes immediately to mind. I may need our portal to deal with whatever mischief he creates there."

"What mischief do you think Masters is planning there?"

"I have no idea."

Samson stared into this glass for a time. It was two-thirds empty, the ice just sticking above the amber fluid. Samson gazed at it like it was a crystal ball. "Master's MO is manipulation, not murder. Whatever he has planned does not involve sticking a gun to Ben Grimm's head and pulling a trigger. I don't think the Thing is in any immediate danger. In fact Grimm is something of an asset in a situation that you know little about—other than it's probably hostile. The plan may be to use Grimm to stand between them and anything that could seriously hurt them. Crazy don't mean stupid."

"That your official diagnosis?" Reed Richards asked.

"It's my convenient designation. The paragraph that would accurately detail Master's condition would add nothing to this conversation." Samson finished his drink in one swallow, "What I can tell you is that Master's fixation is not utopian. He didn't go in there to find some Shangri-La and escape his cruel life here. He doesn't want to escape his cruel life, he wants to rectify it to his own taste; make himself master of it. Whatever plans he and the Big Brain have involve finding something in there that they can use, and coming back here to use it."

"Got any thoughts on what that thing would be?" Reed asked.

"None what-so-ever; my talent if figuring out what they will do with it when the happy moment arrives. Another drink?"

"Sure," Reed handed Samson his glass.

It was odd watching the psychologist as he worked. Watching the green-haired giant perform this fussy, quasi-domestic act. He wasn't as big as Ben—though not as big as Ben could still be pretty damn big—but he was taller. If Reed Richards remembered correctly, Samson had been another ninety-pound weakling who suddenly found himself the possessor of the ultimate beach-bod through sheer accident. Reed had the feeling Samson would have made his ninety-pound weakling life more than fulfilling enough—but that was not meant to be. For a few years there was a lot of that going around.

But Samson did seem to be a good psychologist. He had been right about the drinks, the ritual of going through it put Reed Richards into the pensive mindset that drinking had when he was in college. Sans the alcohol and Reed still felt like he was floating, he found it easy to talk to this man.

Samson came back with the drinks. "So, are you going after him?" he said after sitting down.

"Yes."

"So, when are we leaving?"

"We?"

"I should be able to fill in for the Thing, have the requisite skills."

Reed Richards was about the voice some protestation; he stopped in mid-sentence. Samson was right about providing the muscle that Ben couldn't. On top of that he had a skill set that Ben didn't have, one that could come in very handy in dealing with Masters and the Big Brain.

And there was one other thing, Reed Richards found that he genuinely liked the company of Leonard Skivorski. There was an easiness here that he'd rarely experienced. Ben had always been…well, Ben. Johnny had been a kid when it all happened, and Reed had been too much the father to him to make him into a kindred spirit. Even Sue was constrained by the role of wife and mother, and their own history. Since they'd first started dating he had been earnest with her, and she in turn had been earnest with him. Reed loved her, and she loved him, but, sitting here with Samson, he wondered if parts of his marriage were stunted in some way by all that earnestness. He looked back on their time together, and he was appalled how little laughter there had been.

Reed turned away from his musings and realized that Samson was staring at him in a curious way. The look on Samson's face was somehow sad, and knowing and intent, all at once. Reed Richards suddenly remembered that his guest was a psychiatrist.

"Ben wasn't just muscle," Reed said, chasing his embarrassment away by changing the subject, "He was also a pilot."

"We could put out some feelers," Samson said, "Talk to the Avengers. Hawkeye is a pilot, same is true with War Machine. Did you and Grimm do things that were eccentric, stuff only Ben Grimm could make work?"

"We have a couple of vehicles like that, but I don't think we'd need one of those. In fact, the Fantasticar should do the job. In the Negative Zone there is even an atmosphere in deep space," Reed said, "But why would the Avengers be willing to help us?"

"Why wouldn't they? It's not like they couldn't see any downside to Masters and the Thinker coming back with whatever goodies they went out for."

"This is a personal matter."

"Masters is your antagonist, and you're not sharing him with anyone? You don't want to know what my training would have to say about that."

"This is a personal matter in that I can't think of a good reason why anyone else should risk their lives over it."

Samson was quiet for more than a few moments. "How many people like us would you say are out there?"

"I haven't really thought about it."

"I have, there are maybe thirty total. Maybe the total personal for a busy MacDonalds. But there's more. A lot of them like you were more than a little eccentric before they acquired their powers. People like you and Banner were loners with very few friends before you were up-boosted. Once it happened your potential social life was shot."

"I managed to find a wife," Reed said.

"Man does not live by wife alone. And you and Susan have constraints of intimacy that the average married couple can't comprehend. Did every undertaking you've been involved in work out swimmingly? Well, your wife, and brother-in-law, and best friend in the whole world were there with you. When things seriously went south how much could you really say about it? And if you said anything how often did it come back to you screwing up? Who do you talk to under those circumstances? The guys at the local bar? People at conferences? How many people in the world are there that understand your biggest problems? Again, maybe thirty.

"I've gotten big on building this group of people into a community for some time now. In the first place some problem might come along where you need them and they need you. Then you will need each other physically. But you also need each other psychologically, because there are only a handful of people in this world who will truly understand your problems.

"The worst kept secret I know in this community is that you and Grimm have problems. Problems that have exploded rather publicly over the years. It could be that they will again. It will be an exercise in cliché if it does happen again: you'll be watching the same movie that you did the last time, with only a subtle change in the plot. There will be nothing about it that your wife and brother-in-law can think of doing that you haven't tried, but maybe Steve Rogers or Tony Stark can give you an insight on what to do. Even if they can't they won't sit in judgement of you in they way the wife, brother-in-law, and best friend with the complicated past will."

Samson finished his drink. "I have contacts with the Avengers. Would you like me to put out some feelers?"

Reed Richards thought about it for one, swollen moment, "Yes," he finally said, "I would appreciate that."

"How soon would you like to leave?" Samson asked

"As soon as possible. Sometime tomorrow for sure. As soon as whoever you find can be familiarized with our equipment."

Samson rinsed his glass out and put it in the dishwasher, "Tomorrow then, I'll let myself out."

Samson left. Reed Richards sat for a very long time. The drink in his hand forgotten. He appreciated what Samson said about thoughts he couldn't share with Sue, or Johnny, or Ben. Reed Richards was having one of those thoughts now.

He was thinking of keeping Samson full time once they got Ben back, and finally asking Ben to leave.

END