Fantastic Four

452

Year 4 August

"Friendly Conversations"

Brought to you by Stephen Crosby

The air was thick with smoke and the stench of beer. Not surprising for a bar. It was the Princess Bar, in the Lowtown of Madripoor. For nearly a year, the building had been closed a brutal massacre of the owner and many of its regular patrons.

This day, the Princess Bar was open again. Beer flowed into mugs, then disappeared down the gullets of dock workers and muscle-men. Later, the beer would flow out from the sewers and into the Pacific Ocean every day polluting that body of water just a little more. Not as much as the daily dumping of dead bodies, though.

In the back rooms of the Princess, money exchanged hands nearly as often as at the bar out front. Poker, mainly, though there was one game of craps going on.

Logan preferred poker, though. It wasn't so much a game of chance as it was a game of skill. Half the time it didn't matter what cards you held in your hands. What mattered was what the other players thought you had in your hands. If they think you have something, they fold, and you clean up on a pair of threes. If they think you're bluffing, that you have nothing, they'll call your bluff by raising the stakes. Then you get to enjoy the looks on their faces when you flash the four Kings.

When it came to bluffing and calling, Logan was the best there was. He used the same patience in poker as he did hunting deer, and with his senses he could read a lot more than faces. The smell of sweat and adreniline, the sound of a beating heart or heavy breathing. If you had a bad hand, Logan knew. If you had a good hand, Logan knew.

Not that it really mattered what hand you had. In Madripoor, Logan had a reputation. He was known as Patch, on account of the eye-patch he wore over one eye. He was known as the best brawler in Madripoor, a personal friend of, Tiger Tyger, and the man responsible for the deaths of General Coy Mahn, Police Chief Tai, and the Prince of Madripoor. Unless a man was suicidal, he didn't take Patch's money.

And hey, who was Logan to complain? More money to buy beer and cigars. It paid for the stogie he was smoking, adding to the increasing level of toxicity in the air. Not that Logan cared. Lung cancer wasn't much of a danger to a guy with a healing factor. So night after night, Logan took their money. He was never short of players. Who's gonna say "no" when Patch wants a game of poker?

But this night was different. There were only two players at Logan's private table, seated across from one another. Logan, and an old acquaintance of his from New York. A guy he'd known for years, before he'd even hooked up with Xavier. A guy who scared the locals even more than Patch did.

After all, the worst Patch could do was rip your guts out. This guy, he could level the entire island in a day.

When he'd arrived at the Princess Bar, he'd worn his standard trenchcoat and fedora. Though after ten years, the makeshift disguise was more for avoiding screaming fans than torch-bearing mobs. Despite his form and features being hidden, his size had been enough to keep the rowdy customers clear of him. Once the coat and hat came off, though, the bar had quickly cleared of customers.

"You better be thirsty, bub," Logan had commented. "Cause you just cost me a lot of business."

"With all the water you mix in, I could drink all night and still not get over this jet lag," the gruff voice of Benjamin Grimm joked. "So break out your good stuff, runt, and deal the cards. It's gambling time!"

That was an hour ago. The bar had since been filled again, but the back room where Logan and Ben played was empty save for them. Like Logan, Ben had a cigar chomped between his lips, and a large pint of beer at his elbow. Unlike, Logan, Ben didn't have a small glass next to the pint. He was also sitting in a specially made, titanium reinforced chair. The table was also reinforced, just in case Ben was a sore loser.

Eyeing his hand, Logan glanced up at Ben Grimm studying his own cards. His face had healed up nicely. There wasn't any hint of the damage Logan's claws had done. He'd considered asking Ben the name of his plastic surgeon, but thought better of it. It'd taken a while for the two pals to patch things up following that brawl, and Logan decided it best not to revisit that.

Watching Ben, Logan couldn't read anything. Rock didn't sweat, and even Logan's senses couldn't hear a heartbeat underneath that thick hide. Ben was also a seasoned poker player, well-practiced at controlling his breathing. To make matters worse, his face was a stone.

Glancing up, Ben studied Logan just as closely. If he saw a flaw, he didn't show it. Closing his stubby fingers carefully over a stack of chips, Ben tossed them into the center of the table. "I bet a hundred."

Not looking at his cards, Logan pushed a slightly larger stack into the pot. "I'll see that, and raise fifty."

Ben saw the bet. "Call. Let's see the cards."

Logan gave a wry smile. "You've been keeping the game low, Grimm. You guys strapped for cash again?"

Ben's eyes twinkled. "It wouldn't be fun to take all your money right away. Show me what you got."

Still smiling, Logan laid his cards on the table. Three sevens. Ben let out a low whistle. "Bluffing with three sevens. Did Magneto take more than metal our of your head?" Throwing his cards on the table, Ben revealed two nines and three Jacks. A full house.

Yeah, Logan was playing against a guy that he couldn't intimidate, and couldn't read. Some hands he won, others he lost.

It'd been a while since he had so much fun playing poker.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

During the year when the heroes had disappeared, presumed dead, the Storm Museum was established. Though the Chairman of Fantastic Four Inc. at the time, Nathaniel Richards had been powerless to prevent it's creation. The public had lost their greatest heroes, and The Board of Directors had decided a museum to commemorate these heroes would help with the healing process.

And as if by miracle, the return of the heroes occured on the very day the Storm Museum opened. The extensive publicity served to make the Storm Museum the single largest tourist attraction in New York City. Every day, throngs of visitors thrilled at the numerous artifacts and exhibits housed in the museum. The waiting list of tours was over two years long.

Fortunately, there were those who could attend the museum at any time. Lifetime passes had been granted to members of the Avengers, and other heroes who were well-known and highly regarded by the public.

And, of course, the Storm Museum was owned by the Storm Foundation, of which Susan Storm was the Chairperson. The security systems for the museum, so necessary do to the sensitive artifacts it held, had been designed by Nathanial Richards, Sue's father-in-law. He'd been more than willing to give the codes over to his son, Reed, though he hadn't done so in person. One day, they'd simply appeared in the Pier 4 computer system. As a result, the Fantastic Four had complete access to the Storm Museum, twenty-four-hours-a-day.

That night, Johnny Storm was in the museum. He stood before the "Team-Ups" Exhibit, before a massive photograph of himself as the Human Torch, soaring through the sky with Spider-Man swinging alongside him. A plaque next to the photograph credited it as taken by Peter Parker.

"You are so lucky, you know that?" Johnny said to the man standing beside him. "All you do is position a camera in some corner and program it to take pictures ever couple seconds. That and pray some good photos are taken."

"Hey, I happen to be a professional," Peter Parker retorted. "You think I do all those poses for yoga?Sometimes I twist around so the bad guy shows up in the photo. And so I can get a good shot of my butt. You notice a copy of the Daily Bugle with a good butt shot of me on the cover always sells fast."

"I'm sure your wife just loves that."

Peter grinned. "Hey, she doesn't say anything if I don't. I'm not the one who models lingierie."

"You haven't gotten any offers, with that nice butt and all?" Johnny joked. "But yeah, you must real secure to marry a model as hot as Mary Jane. Let me tell you, before I knew you were married to her, I used to take those magazines into the bathroom and-"

"I really don't need to know that," Peter cut in.

Johnny grinned. "Yeah, but I still can't believe it. A guy like you married to a super-model. Me, I have to settle for-"

"A woman who can become any woman she wants," Peter finished. "Or, more importantly, any woman you want. Plus you had that thing with an Inhuman, or was it two? Sisters, right?"

Johnny looked a little more subdued. "Yeah, both of whom are now married. Nothing happened with Medusa, though."

"And lets not forget Silver Sable," Peter added. "Honestly, Johnny, I work with the woman. Now it's gonna be all uncomfortable around the coffee machine. If you don't call her, she'll ask me about it, I'll be in the middle of this whole mess..."

"Zip it, Pete," Johnny retorted. "That was just...there wasn't anything behind it. Lyja and I were over, I was feeling down, Sable was willing..." He trailed off, much to Peter's chagrin.

"Hey, don't stop for my sake. I'm a married man. I need to live vicariously through my bachelor friends." A wide grin crossed Peter's face as they came to the Urban Heroes Exhibit. "Man, you wouldn't believe the things Daredevil's done with the Black Widow!"

Johnny laughed. "It's probably nothing she hasn't done with Iron Man, or Hawkeye, or probably with Ant-Man now. Say, did you ever..."

Peter gave his friend a sly smiled. "Ah, now, that would be telling."

"You didn't," Johnny said simply. Peter shook his head.

"Nah, I didn't." Then the grinned returned. "Black Cat, however, is something else. She told me about that little...exchange the two of you had. What are you, moving in on all my women now?"

Johnny sighed. "No, it was...a cruel joke that got played on me. Thanos messing with my head." Seeing the look on Peter's face, Johnny quickly added, "No, no. He was distracting me so he could kidnap Franklin."

Peter shook his head. "What is it with your nephew? Doom wants him, Thanos wants him, I imagine somewhere Michael Jackson is panting over a picture of him."

Johnny's eyes darkened. Peter noticed the temperature was increasing. "That was too far, Pete. I happen to like Michael Jackson."

Peter raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Hey, problem. And speaking of which, here comes the Best and Worst Costumes exhibit." Raising his camera, Peter added. "Say, is it all right to take pictures? MJ's been wanting to come here for months. She'd never forgive me if I didn't bring her back something."

"Yeah, no problem. If you want, I could arrange for you guys to bypass the waiting list. She'd probably have to write an article on super-hero fashion to justify it, of course, but..."

"Shh." Peter raised his hand and was silent, as though he was listening for something. After a moment, he lowered his hand. "Sorry, though I heard the sound of Jameson drooling. Thanks, Johnny. I know MJ would love to come here. She's been complaining that I don't take her anywhere."

Johnny nodded to the exhibit of the Secret Wars. "You sure you want her here then? Once she finds out how often you've been out of town, you might find yourself out of the house."

"I'm sure you'd just love that. Then you wouldn't be alone in bachelorhood anymore."

It took Peter a few steps to notice that he was walking alone. Stopping, he turned back to see that Johnny hadn't moved. He was looking at the Wedding exhibit. The wedding of Reed and Sue, of Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne, of Bruce Banner and Betty Brant (with a reenactment of the rampaging aftermath), of Vision and the Scarlet Witch. Johnny was looking at two of the weddings. The one of Quicksilver and Crystal, and Johnny's own marriage to Alicia Masters.

"We never did tell the public the truth about that marriage," Johnny said. "About how it was really a Skrull. I never heard anything, but I can imagine the kind of remarks that must have been made about Alicia, going between me and Ben."

Hesitating, Peter finally spoke, meekly. "When the divorce was announced, Jameson almost put out the headline 'Fantastic Whore'. Robertson stopped him, of course." Peter started to take a step forwad, but Johnny gestured for him to stop.

"No, stay where you are." Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing. Johnny actually sounded depressed. "It's fitting, really. You're moving on, while I'm left behind. For years, you've been married, and now you've got a daughter. Up until a few months ago, Reed and Sue were planning to leave for another world to raise Franklin. And if Ben wasn't so down on himself all the time, he'd have married Alicia years ago. And me," Johnny continued glumly. "I've been in one failed relationship after another. And I always screw things up."

He glanced at the wedding exhibit of Quicksilver and Crystal. "I really did love her, you know. I see her with Quicksilver, and I just get so angry. A jerk like that...." Steam began to rise from Johnny's clothes. They were smoldering. Quickly, Peter started towards him.

"Hey, I'm sure he's got attractive qualities," Peter said quickly. "I can't think of any right now, and come to think of it being fast wouldn't be too popular to women..." Peter sighed. "Look, feeling sorry for yourself doesn't accomplish anything. I know all about that, believe me. Just now you were talking about what Ben's missed out on because of his attitude."

Johnny nodded. "Yeah. I loved her, but it's over. I've moved on. I had moved on, with Alicia. I'd lost someone, she'd lost Ben, I thought we just grew together from the loss." Johnny began smoldering again. "But that was a lie. She was a Skrull, using me to infiltrate the team and, for all I know, kill us all! Afterwards, I gave Lyja the benefit of the doubt, believed that maybe she had fallen in love with me. But she just kept lying, Peter!"

Despite the heat, Peter laid his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I don't pretend to know anything about love. The fact that I married a supermodel aside, I haven't really had much luck in that regard. But I do know that you wouldn't be so angry about the lies if you really didn't care about this woman."

"Or," Johnny snarled. "I'm just pissed about being lied to and used. You ever think of that?"

Peter snatched his hand back. Yep, Johnny was really angry. "Look, so you haven't grown in the way of relationships. Your still a young guy, there's no rush. It might even have nothing to do with you. I mean, every relationship you've been in has been bogged with all this....super-hero drama." Peter waved his hands around the museum. "Look at all this! This is your life. You started it right after high-school; you never had a secret identity. Being Spider-Man had nothing to do with me meeting Mary Jane. Our aunts fixed us up!"

Following Peter's tirade, Johnny didn't say anything for a moment. Then, he started chuckling. "Your aunts? I hate to say this, buddy, but that's really pathetic."

"Hey, they were best friends," Peter replied defensively. "I can't speak for MJ, but I didn't have much free time for a social life back then. I was the one who kept postponing the date, as a matter of fact."

"I take it back then," Johnny laughed. "You're not pathetic. You're a idiot."

As the two friends walked on through the museum, through the Hall of Villians, Peter raised his camera to take a picture of The Goblin Legacy. "You know, when I talked to Black Cat, she mentioned feeling attracted towards you. If you want, I could give you her number. I'm not gonna tell you that it could turn serious, or anything, but you'd have a fun time at it. She lets out the most incredible purr when you...."

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

During the rebuilding efforts following Onslaught, the Cosmic Tower had been constructed on the east coast of Manhattan. The Storm Foundation had spear-headed the project, financing it through its own funds as well as donations from around the country. The Storm Museum was located in the Cosmic Tower, as was the Cosmic Observatory on the rooftop. It was also home to a restaurant, a star-gazing theatre, the Phineas T. Horton Library, and finally, the corporate headquarters of the Storm Foundation.

Despite its status as the world's premiere super-team, the Fantastic Four still needed funds to operate. That was where the Storm Foundation came in. Licensing the merchandise, controlling the patents or Reed Richards, and the revenue from the Cosmic Tower businesses, all were handled by the Storm Foundation, a non-profit organization who's sole purpose was financing the Fantastic Four.

Alone in the main conference room for the Storm Foundation, it's Chairperson looked over the first quarter projections. Susan Storm was not entirely pleased by what she read. Though the Storm Museum and Cosmic Tower more than paid for itself, the activities of the Fantastic Four continued to increase costs. She knew it was only temporary, the result of construction costs of Pier Four, but the numbers were still staggering. The power costs alone...

Worse, the cash-flow from Reed's patents had been slowing. Because of his teaching at Empire State University, Reed wasn't spending so much time in the lab, and as a result fewer patents were coming in. From a personal point of view, Susan loved having Reed out of the lab, but from a business perspective...

Still, Sue knew that the Storm Foundation's finances were fine. The Fantastic Four was fully funded, and every year the Foundation had more than enough to donate to a variety of worthwhile charities. But Sue also knew that the Storm Foundation could do so much more, if only it was better managed. It's greatest achievements, the Storm Museum and Cosmic Tower, were projects she'd had in mind for years. But they never got off the ground until she was gone, and the Foundation was handled by individuals who could give it their full attention.

The doors to the conference room opened, and Susan quickly rose to greet the man with whom she had arranged this meeting. Even after so many years, seeing him still made her heart skip a beat. She would always love Reed, of course, but there was just something about Namor.

That he was a handsome man there was no doubt. Tall, with a lithe but strong built. His features were sharp and straight, a result of his mixed human and Atlantean genes. The most obvious sign of his heritage was his ears, which were slightly pointed at the upper tips, giving him a "Spock" look.

Giving Susan a smile, Namor strode forward and took her hand in his. "It's good to see you again, Susan. You have no idea how pleased I was to hear that you wanted to meet with me."

"This is about business, Namor," Sue replied. Her voice was cool and professional. "Please, won't you sit down?

Namor complied, and Susan took a seat next to him. Taking up the folder she'd been reading, Susan handed it to Namor. "Our first quarter projections for the next year. I'd like your opinion."

Accepting the folder, Namor spent the next few minutes glancing at the figures. "This is a marked improvemen, Susan. In past years, the Fantastic Four had always been borderline red. The smallest thing would have sent you into bankruptcy." He glanced up at Susan. "And the proceedings with Empire State was not a small thing. The....absence, of Richards only made things worse, cutting off the cash flow from his patents."

Namor turned the pages to reports from previous years. "Remarkably, the absense of the Fantastic Four was the best thing to happen to the Storm Foundation. They no longer had to pay those exhobiant operating costs, and of course the city paid to set up the Thunderbolts in Four Freedoms Plaza." Namor frowned at some figures he saw. "Which you and the Avengers later reimbursed them for..."

Susan nodded. "It was the right thing to do. The city, the public had been betrayed be those they had perceived as heroes. The cost was minor, at any rate. Seized assests from Baron Zemo and the Fixer had offset most of it."

Though Namor didn't entirely agree with the FF and Avengers reimbursing the city (those fools had deserved to get conned by the Masters of Evil), he didn't say anything. "Well, at any rate, that inflow of cash and reduction of expenses did allow for, well," Namor looked up and around, "this. Easily the most profitable holding of the Foundation."

"And if the Fantastic Four had been around, it wouldn't have been possible," Susan added. "That's why I asked you to meet with me, Namor. The Storm Foundation can do a lot of good, has done a lot of good, but too much of its time and resources are spent on the Fantastic Four. Now," Susan continued, cutting of what Namor was going to say, "the Fantastic Four does more than enough to justify the resources poured into it. But one reason the Storm Foundation hasn't expanded is because I haven't given it the attention it requires. Because of my responsibilites with the Fantastic Four, I've been lax in my responsibilities as Chairperson to the Foundation."

"You're asking me to take over the responsibilities of Chairperson?" Namor asked. He raised one eyebrow. "My apoligies, Susan, but that's quite impossible. My duties in Atlantis simply won't allow for it. I'm not even able to give my own company, Oracle Inc., my full attention. Also, I highly doubt the Board of Directors would vote in favor of my appointment..."

"No, Namor, I'm not asking for that," Susan replied. "I'm making other arrangements for my successor. No, what I'm proposing is to be my last official action as Chairperson. A joint partnership between Oracle Inc. and the Storm Foundation."

Before Namor could respond, Susan pressed her point. "A complete outline and proposal has already been sent to your Board of Directors, but I wanted to bring this to you personally. Basically what it pertains is that Oracle Inc. assists in the financing of Reed's experiments, laboratory costs, equipment, and so on. In return, Oracle Inc. gains access to the patents of all Reed's inventions from that point on. You know my husband's work, Namor. It's all ecologically viable. This gives you an opportunity to help provide technology that will, if not heal the environment, at least prevent further damage. It also allows the Storm Foundation to involve itself in more worthy causes. We both win."

For a moment, Namor said nothing, and Susan held her breath. She knew her proposal was a good one, from both a practical and an economical point of view. The Storm Foundation would save millions from the expense of bankrolling Reed's inventions. Oracle Inc. would show losses in the short run, of course, but Namor never intended for his corporation to make money. It's sole purpose was to help the environment. He had to know that this was a great offer.

All Namor had to do was agree to work with Reed.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Queen to C5. Takes Knight. Check."

Reed Richards considered it a fair trade. He'd now lost both Knights, but still had one Rook and two Bishops. His opponent, however, was now down to one Knight and Bishop apiece.

There was still that Queen to contend with, however. "Rook to F2." The Queen couldn't take the King, and if it took the Knight, then the King would take it.

"Queen to D6. Takes Pawn."

"Bishop to F4. Takes Pawn."

"Keeping things even, Richards? That's risky. With a Queen and a Knight, I have versatility on my side. Pawn to D2. Takes Pawn."

Reed couldn't take the pawn with his Rook, because of the bishop on C4. Still, he could prevent that pawn from reaching the other side.

"Bishop to C6. Check."

"Please. Queen to C6. Takes Bishop."

"Bishop to E5. Takes Knight."

"A loss soon remedied. Pawn to E1. Convert to Knight."

"Bishop to G7. Takes Pawn."

"A remarkable ploy, but too little too late. Queen to G2. Check."

Reed had no choice but to take the Queen with his Rook, which was then immediately taken by the Knight. Reed moved his King up to take the Knight, which brought him ahead by one pawn. Not for long, however. His opponent could move his last pawn forward, but Reed's Bishop would then be in a position to take it.

"Bishop to D5. Check."

Reed moved this King onto G1, a black square, and therefore safe from the Bishop. His opponent responded by moving his king to F7. Reed had no choice but to move his Bishop away and sacrifice the pawn there. Left with one pawn and bishop apiece the game swiftly slowed to a crawl. With Reed's Bishop placed on A3, his opponent could not move his pawn forward to B2. And with his opponent's Bishop on D5, Reed couldn't move his pawn onto A8. What followed was a careful and precise movement of Kings in an attempt to move or take the bishop or pawn. Reed's opponent, however, had placed his pieces so that the bishop protected the pawn. Fortunately, Reed was also able to move his Bishop around his opponent's pawn.

Eventually, Reed won the manuvers by placing his King on the other side of his board, onto B8. If his opponent took the pawn once moved, Reed's king would take the Bishop. His opponent's King was on, also in position to protect his pawn.

"Pawn to A8. Convert to Queen."

"Bishop to A8. Takes Queen."

"King to A8. Takes Bishop."

Sighing, Reed's opponent moved his pawn. Reed promptly took it with his bishop, which was then taken by his opponent's King.

"Stalemate." Reed remarked. He looked up at the monitor, into the masked face of his opponent.

"Once again, Richards, there is no victor."

"I never intended to win," Reed replied. "My goal has always been to keep you in check. And once again, I've succeeded."

"Curse you Richards!"