CHAMPIONS # 45

February Year Five

MV1 presents

"Hard Choices"

by Russ Anderson, with plot-assist by Barry Reese

In Case You're Just Joining Us: Batroc engaged the Terrible Toad in a pitched battle that raged across downtown Phoenix, and ended in Batroc's defeat. Meanwhile, the Black Widow tried to recover from a violent altercation with a man who looked just like her dead husband Alexi Shostakov -- the original Red Guardian -- and Firebird and the Flash helped the mysterious cosmic being known as Plasma against Aeon. Back at home, young Cassie Lang was visited by her maternal aunt, a woman who wants to take Cassie away from the Champs.

"Ms. Cronberg..."

"Mrs. Cronberg. But please... call me Caroline."

"Thank you... Caroline. I understand your concerns, but..."

The woman on the couch sighed and set the mug of coffee she'd been nursing for the last twenty minutes down on the endtable. "Look, Ms. Juarez..."

"Bonita."

"Bonita... I understand how much you, and I'm sure all of your teammates, care about Cassie, but surely you must agree that caring is not all a child needs. They need a stable home, a safe home. One that isn't likely to be blown up by Dr. Doom or Apocalypse or whoever the villain du jour is this week. Cassie is ten years old, and when I came here tonight to see her, she was completely alone in this house."

"Cerberus was here," Bonita said weakly.

"The dog?" From the corner of the room, Cerberus growled in the base of his three throats. The five puppies snuggled on the floor around their father imitated the sound, then one took an uninvited sniff of one of his brother's hindquarters, and suddenly the lot of them were nipping at and tumbling over each other. A bookshelf went over with a crash and Bonita winced. Caroline didn't bother to dignify Bonita's point with a reply.

"Cassie's father is gone," the woman pressed on. "I'm not completely sure of the circumstances, but for all intents and purposes, he's dead. Cassie's mother, my sister, died in a diving accident shortly after she and Scott separated. My husband and I are Cassie's nearest kin, and we would give her a good home, Bonita. A safe one. I will fight for her in court if I have to, but I would really rather it didn't come to that. For everybody's sake."

Bonita's head spun. She and Barry had barely walked back in the door from their battle with Aeon and Plasma when Cassie had come running in to tell them about Caroline's arrival. Barry, being the Flash, had managed to get Plasma's comatose form into the basement without Caroline seeing, but that had left Bonita up here to deal with the visitor. She glanced at the clock on the wall and hoped the Black Widow and the others returned soon.

"We should ask Cassie what she wants," Bonita said, but her resolve was weakening. The thing was... the woman was right. Absolutely right. When Scott had been with the Champions, it had been his choice to keep his daughter here. Now, with him gone, didn't Cassie belong with what was left of her family? Bonita loved the girl like a little sister, but that didn't give her, or any of them, the right to keep Cassie from the home that would be best for her.

"I agree," Caroline nodded. "But I also think the final decision shouldn't be left up to her. Imagine yourself as a ten year-old child, Bonita. Would you want to live with your dreary old aunt and uncle who will raise you just like every other kid on the block... or would you rather live in a house full of superheroes?"

Before Bonita could answer, the sound of the front door opening drifted in from the foyer. She took a moment to turn her eyes upward in thanks to her God, then sprang up and moved toward the entrance.

"That sounds like my teammates now. Give me a moment and we'll get this all sorted out."

Barry Allen - the dimensionally-transposed speedster known as the Flash - puzzled over the life readings he had gathered from the woman lying on the gurney behind him. Simply put, this woman, this 'Plasma', was a human-shaped bubble of liquid, infused with some sort of radiation that animated and empowered her. She'd claimed to be a herald of Galactus, but Bonita -- who seemed to know just what a 'Galactus' was, though Barry didn't have a clue -- said she'd never heard of her.

Whoever she was, her power was impressive. She'd survived a fall from space that had splattered her body over a mile of desert, and then managed to stave off a timelord by the name of Aeon... who just happened to be the former Champion known as Ant-Man, Scott Lang.

Barry Allen had been at this superhero game for years, dealt with time travel, paradoxes, friends turning into villains and vice versa, and the whole thing still made his head hurt sometimes.

Taking one last look at the inert liquid woman behind him, he set the basement's scanners to warn him if she moved off the table, then zipped off to see how Bonita was doing.

Elsewhere.

The man with Alexei Shostakov's face swore in his native Russian and put his fist through the mirror in front of him. He'd had the Black Widow... right... in... his hands. Had her and let her slip away again!

He could hardly be blamed, he thought, using every mental and breathing technique he knew to calm his pounding heart. He'd been stalking the Champions for weeks, searching for the perfect time to strike, and the first encounter with the witch had still been an accident. He had been returning to his hovel from a light dinner, and had walked right by Romanoff in a crowd without seeing her. Stupid, amateur mistake. The kind of thing that could have gotten him killed in the old days.

He wouldn't make any such mistake again. He hadn't managed to kill the Widow, but he had accomplished first contact, confusing her with the face and body he wore. The next battle would sound her death knell... and in the meantime, she could suffer through the mental and emotional anguish his appearance surely caused her.

Next time.

The man smiled and used his bloody fist to draw a scarlet uniform out of the top drawer of the dresser he leaned against. It was far past time for the Red Guardian - the real Red Guardian - to live again.

Weep for the Black Widow.

"Scott's alive?"

Bonita nodded and passed Natasha Romanoff - the Black Widow - the ice pack she'd cobbled together while they'd been standing in the kitchen. Natasha had walked in the door with a nasty gash in her scalp, a gash that should have been seen to by a real doctor, but the Black Widow was having none of it at the moment.

"He's alive... but he almost killed Barry and me. Not to mention our... guest in the basement. That's not our immediate concern just now though..."

"The hell it isn't." Natasha hissed in pain as she pressed the ice pack to her scalp. "This... woman..."

"Caroline."

"Yes, this woman takes Cassie away, and what happens when Scott comes back? We just tell him we let his daughter go off with the first relative that stuck their head in the door?"

"That's exactly what we tell him," Bonita nodded. She looked to Hercules and Guinea Pig for support -- Diamondback and Nightman had rushed off to their respective rooms as soon as they'd come in the door, and Batroc hadn't returned with the rest of them -- but the Greek god and the Expandable Cheeks Warrior suddenly found something else to look at. "And you're assuming that we will get Scott back, Natasha..."

"Oh we will," the Widow insisted. "All we needed to know for sure was that he was alive. We'll bring him home, trust me."

"Friend Natasha," Hercules said hesitantly. "The Lion of Olympus stands ever at thy side, and we must reclaim Scott or avenge him... with this I agree. Yet... mayhap thou art not thinking entirely clearly following this night's ordeal..."

"I'm fine, Hercules." Natasha sighed, her shoulders sagging wearily for a moment. She hadn't told anyone except Diamondback who the man that assaulted her had been... and Rachel had agreed to keep that information under her hat. Thinking about that now, she felt the burden of her leadership more than ever. Then she straightened. "That woman is not getting Cassie. Not until I know for sure that Scott is lost to us. Maybe not even then."

"Don't you think you should at least ask Cassie if she wants to stay?"

"Do you really think she doesn't?"

Bonita opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it shut. "No. No, I don't."

"Fine. Go and stall this woman for another fifteen minutes... I've got to talk to Cassie, and then I'll join you. The rest of you... be ready to move in the next couple of days. We're going to find Ant Man. Champions take care of their own."

Natasha stalked out of the room, the ice pack still pressed to her head, leaving her teammates to their own thoughts.

"Demi Moore gets Patrick Swayze... I get haunted by a fruitcake with no fashion sense and a flying bicycle."

Rachel Leighton, aka Diamondback, looked over her shoulder at the man sitting on a tandem bicycle on the opposite side of the room. That the man was sitting on a bicycle in the house wasn't at all strange in comparison to the fact that the bike was hovering two feet off the ground. He wore an astonishingly tacky yellow hat with a green pinstriped coat and white slacks, and carried an umbrella over one shoulder. He also wore a mustache, so long and so oiled it made even Batroc's seem tasteful.

Whoever the guy was, Rachel had spotted him twice earlier that night - first at the dance club the team had visited, then in an alley when she'd been helping the Black Widow against her apparently not-so-deceased husband - and he'd quickly figured out that Rachel, among all the people he flew over, could actually see him. He'd followed her home and here he sat, not making a sound, only watching Rachel intently.

"Beat it, willya! Shoo fly!" She waggled her hands at him. "Bibbidy bobbidy boo! Take a hike, damnit!"

The bicycle man's eyebrows went up in mild amusement, but he continued to make no reply.

"Okay, fine, we'll do this your way then." Rachel spun back toward the monitor she'd sat in front of and logged on. The Champions had an uplink to most of the Avengers' less sensitive files and databases - not total access, of course; even after the Champions had helped against Nefaria and the Masters of Evil, the UN wasn't about to let Earth's Mightiest Heroes share all of their secrets with a team made up almost entirely of reformed criminals.

The Champs could access the Avengers' perp databases though, and that was all Rachel needed right now. She had no idea who this spectral weirdo who'd been stalking her for the last few hours was, but his outfit just screamed "lame supervillain". The Avengers had to have something on the guy.

She punched in her search parameters and stared goggle-eyed at the number of hits that came up. "No way," she muttered, "there can't be that many bad guys with flying bicycles out there..." She turned and considered her ghost for a moment, then turned back and did a sub-search on "umbrella" and "fashion victim"... Cap had told her once that the Wasp occasionally went through the databases and rated the villains' fashion sense... she only hoped she'd gotten the terminology right.

She had. A photo of her resident phantom scrolled into view on the screen, accompanied by a column of text.

TURNER D. CENTURY

was printed in bold at the top. Cute. Rachel scanned the rest of the information:

An on-again-off-again villain of the original Spider-Woman, also fought Spider-Man and some old guy named Dominic Fortune. Flying bicycle, check. Umbrella with flame-throwing tip, check. Had some sort of weird fetish for the elderly, became convinced that the world had become "a cesspool of frivolity and immorality," a state perpetuated by the young. Killed a whole bunch of people in San Francisco, and tried to kill everyone under the age of sixty in New York before Spidey and this Fortune guy stopped him. Also liked to dress up department store mannequins and put them on the rear seat of his flying tandem bicycle. Killed by the Scourge at the Bar With No Name, along with a whole bunch of other super-crooks.

"Not too much of a freak, are you?" Rachel muttered. She turned to see if her discovery was having any effect on her visitor... but he was gone. Sighing, Rachel reached to turn the monitor off.

The door cracked open and a huge shadow blocked the light flooding in from the hallway. "Friend Rachel?"

"Hercules." She smiled and beckoned her teammate into the room. "Come on in. How are things going upstairs?"

"I know not." Hercules moved into the room and closed the door behind him. "And in truth, it is not that of which I wish to speak with you."

Rachel's eyebrows went up in surprise. Hercules seemed serious, even pensive... in other words, not at all his normal self. Diamondback crossed her arms and leaned back, hoping she wasn't about to hear a declaration of love from the big lug. She liked him well enough, but...

"What is it, Herc? Nothing serious, I hope... gotta get some sleep before I leave tomorrow..."

"Aye, I will not keep you long. If perchance my suspicions are incorrect, this question will seem passing strange, however... friend Rachel, dost thou see dead people?"

Diamondback blinked in surprise, then glanced back at the screen where Turner D. Century's picture was still displayed. "Uh... why do you ask?"

"'Tis something I have feared for some time, but you showed no signs of the ailment... until this eve, when thou didst seem to stare across the crowded night club at someone who was not there."

Rachel nodded, crossing her arms. "Yes, I have been seeing someone who's supposed to be dead. What's happening to me, Herc? What do you know about it?"

"Only Rarely doth a soul return from darkest Hades once it hath been consigned there. On the occasions that a soul doth escape, there are often consequences."

"Consequences... like being able to see ghosts."

"Aye... restless spirits who haunt this plane because some work of theirs remains unfinished here."

"Hm." Rachel tapped a finger against her temple thoughtfully. "Anybody here ever return from Hades?" She raised her hand. "Oh yeah, me.* Jeez, Herc, you knew this might happen and you never thought to warn me?"

(* Wwaayy back in Champions #20 -- Russ)

"In truth, I believed the chances of your being affected slim, fair Rachel. The circumstances of your imprisonment in Hades were... unusual."

Rachel covered her face with one hand. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, Herc. I'm just a little freaked out is all." She stood up and began pacing the length of the room. "So what do I have to do to get rid of this? Will it just go away?"

"Nay... not before the unfinished business of the spirit is seen to."

"Unfinished business? How the hell do I know what that is?"

Hercules shrugged. "I know not."

"Fabulous," Rachel muttered. "There goes the vacation. Thank you so much, Ares. I could..." She paused and turned slowly towards the monitor. The picture of Turner was still visible there.

"Isn't Nightman driving home to San Francisco tomorrow?" she asked quietly.

"Aye."

Rachel nodded, her thoughts beginning to coalesce into a plan of action. "Not without me he's not. Looks like I'd better cancel my flight to Miami..."

"Are ya sure it wasn't a LMD, 'Tasha?"

The Black Widow nodded. "Absolutely, Nicholas. An LMD is easy to spot if you know what to look for -- you know that as well as I do -- but there was nothing. No notable repetitions in movement, no lack of body odor, nothing. Whoever this man who looks like my husband is, he's not one of SHIELD's androids."

Colonel Nick Fury's image sighed on the encrypted videophone at Natasha's bedside. "I'm glad to hear that... but it means I can't be much help to ya..."

"On the contrary," Natasha began, then winced as fresh pain shot through the wound in her scalp. Fury noted the pause and the apparent pain, but didn't call her on it. The Black Widow was a pro... if she needed help she'd ask for it. "On the contrary, there are two things you can do for me."

"Name it."

"First I need to pay a visit to the Helicarrier and do some research in your urban surveillance division. I think I can find him if I've got SHIELD's resources behind me."

"Simple enough. What else?"

Natasha bit her lip. "Well... this is actually related to the Ant Man situation, and could be a tad on the unethical side..."

"Spit it out, 'Tasha."

So she did. She told him what she needed and, though he hemmed and hawed about it for a few minutes, he finally gave in and told her to expect a package containing the appropriate documentation to arrive at her door within the hour.

"But you owe me big for this one, Widow."

"You know I'm good for it, Nicholas."

"If I didn't, you wouldn't be getting the goods."

There was a knock at Natasha's door and ten year-old Cassie Lang stuck her head in. "Natasha? Guinea Pig -- Brandon -- said you wanted to see me."

"Have to go, Nicholas. Thank you again." Natasha signed off and spun her chair around to face her visitor.

"What happened to your head, Natasha?"

"I... got into a fight." She smiled at the little girl standing in front of her, the little girl who looked so much like her father... and the Black Widow didn't know if the emotion that suddenly threatened to overcome her came from missing Scott or simply from guilt over the feelings he had for her that she'd never been able to return. At this point, she couldn't see how the distinction mattered.

Cassie's eyes lit up with honest curiosity. "Really? Who'd you fight? Was it a super-villain?"

"I -- we really don't have time to talk about that just now, Cassie. I've got a question for you, and I want you to think about it hard before you answer... but I'm going to need you to make a decision very quickly, alright?"

Cassie nodded, eyeing the Widow warily now. The last time Natasha had addressed her this seriously was when her father had vanished.

"The woman you met tonight, your aunt... if you had the choice to go live with her or to stay here with us, where would you want to go? Think carefully, now..."

Cassie looked at her as if she'd grown an ear on her forehead. "Here. I don't know Aunt Caroline... and if I go with her, I won't be here for when you guys bring daddy back home."

Natasha smiled, and somehow resisted the urge to embrace the little girl. No time for that now, but... bozhe moi, she knew an Avenger or two who could learn something about courage and faith from Cassie Lang.

"You're sure?" It was only barely a question.

"Yes."

"Then I'm going to need you to listen very carefully..."

The Cactus Patch, a heavily frequented watering hole in downtown Glendale, Arizona.

Georges Batroc had walked into the establishment ten minutes ago, depressed, angry, ashamed of himself for losing a fight with the Toad.

Zut alors... the Toad!

Five minutes ago, he'd finally managed to pick a fight.

It wasn't so much the losing -- as much as he hated to admit it, even Batroc the Leaper had lost fights over the years -- but there was a world of difference between losing to Captain America, and losing to the "Terrible" Toad. Perhaps being soundly beaten by Barney the purple dinosaur would be worse... but certainly not by much.

Five minutes after starting the brawl, he stepped over the unconscious form of his fifteenth and final opponent and slid up to the bar. He was feeling a little tipsy from drink, but he didn't intend to stop there. He was determined to prove to himself that the fight with the Toad had been a fluke... and if that meant he had to fight a bunch of angry bikers while drunk as a skunk... well, that's what he'd do.

"Nice moves," said the man sitting on the stool next to the one Batroc had chosen. He was large and broad, like a football player, his skin black as night and his hair arranged in thick dreadlocks across his scalp and down past his shoulders. Though the lighting in the bar was bad, he wore dark sunglasses. Except for the cowering bartender and Batroc himself, he was the only one left standing in the Cactus Patch.

"Merci," Batroc replied, seeming to take notice of the man for the first time. "Why did you not join in?"

The black man chuckled, flashing blazing white teeth, and motioned for the terrified bartender to bring him another drink. "I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"Eet eez my curse to be both," Batroc laughed, and returned his attention to his beer.

"That must be a heavy burden," the man agreed. "You're Georges Batroc, right?"

Batroc threw him a pleasantly surprised look. "Oui, c'est moi. Hav we met?"

"No, never. I have this photographic memory, and I remember you being in the news years ago. Before you went straight."

Batroc nodded and downed some more of his beer. "Now I am a Champion."

"Now you're a Champion," the man agreed. When the bartender arrived with his rum and coke, he waved a hand in Batroc's direction, indicating the drink should be given to him. The bartender complied and hurried away again, wondering when in the world the police were going to get here.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Batroc," the man said, rising to his full six feet, four inches and tossing a couple of twenties on the bar. "Next couple of drinks are on me."

"That eez not necessary..."

The man waved a hand in dismissal, then offered it to shake. Batroc took it amiably.

"I'm afraid I deed not get your name..."

"Kane," the black man said, dazzling smile still in place, eyes still hidden behind the dark sunglasses. "Mondo Kane. Enjoy your drink Mr. Batroc. And take care of yourself. In your line of work, you never know what tomorrow will bring."

Barry Allen forced a laugh and patted Bonita on the knee. "Have you told her about the time Cassie, Zaran, and Machete went out for a movie and ended up stopping that Orange Bull character? That one's a classic."

"Yes, she has," Caroline Cronberg said icily. "Ms. Juarez... Mr. Allen," she continued, setting her cup of tea on the coffee table, "I am trying -- really trying -- to keep a level head about this, but you've been putting me off and stalling for the last hour. Don't you think it's time we brought Cassie out here? Or at least someone who's capable of making a decision?"

"That would be me."

Bonita and Barry both rejoiced inwardly as they heard the Widow's voice. Praise the Lord... at this point, Bonita thought she would rather be fighting Zemo's Masters of Evil all by herself rather than sitting here stalling this woman. She had been about to hand Cassie over just so she wouldn't have to be in this awkward situation anymore.

Barry's breath caught in his throat as he turned toward the sound of the Black Widow's voice. Natasha was standing in the hallway, one hand grasping Cassie's smaller one. She was still somewhat pale from her ordeal earlier in the evening, but she had changed from the black leather pants and middy top she'd worn out dancing that evening, into a simple but elegant knee-length black dress with short heels. She strode across the carpet and offered Caroline Cronberg her hand.

"I apologize for the long wait, Mrs. Cronberg," Natasha said. "In our line of work, even a night on the town can turn into an... altercation, and I wasn't quite presentable when I walked in the door. I understand you're asking after Cassie."

"Yes." Caroline turned her kind eyes on Cassie. Now that there was actually progress being made, the woman's good nature was showing through again. It made Natasha feel momentarily guilty for the lie she was about to tell... but she'd already made the decision, already coached Cassie on what to say. No backing out now.

"I'm looking forward to getting to know my sister's only child. I'll --"

"I'm sorry again, Mrs. Cronberg, but that's impossible. I can't let you take Cassie."

The charm and good nature were gone in an instant, fed by the last hour of frustration and waiting. "How can you say that? How can you willfully put this child in danger? She is my niece, and I will not allow--"

"Mrs. Cronberg," Natasha said, and her low, pleasant voice somehow cut through the older woman's tirade like a scalpel. She raised her hand, bringing into view a diamond ring that Bonita had never seen her wear before. "A year ago, Cassie's father and I were wed in a private ceremony. I can't let you take Cassie because, for all intents and purposes, I am her mother."

EPILOGUE

"If you would be so kind, Doctor..."

"No, Doctor, really I insist. You should be the one to do it."

"But I know what pleasure you take in these sorts of things..."

"My pleasure, sir, will be experienced vicariously through your own."

"As you wish, then," the figure in the gray prison uniform pushed the button on a wafer-thin remote on his palm.

The stone wall the two men were facing hissed, smoked, and began to run like thin syrup. Within moments it was gone, and they could see out onto the prison courtyard.

"Beauty!" one of the men exclaimed.

"I changed the stone into blueberry taffy, my good Doctor."

"My favorite! You're too kind."

"Feel free to pick some up as we leave."

"But what about the guards?"

"I wouldn't worry about the guards, Doctor. They've got problems of their own just now."

The two men stepped out into the courtyard to view the fruits of their labors. The remote had activated a chemical change in not only the wall of their cell, but in the watchtowers surrounding the courtyard. Guards screamed in terror as their perches turned soft and gooey beneath their feet, and began to topple. Chaos abounded, and no one had any interest in the two men strolling blithely toward the penitentiary's outer wall, which also happened to be in the process of melting.

"You really must tell me how you do this someday."

"We have bigger fish to fry, Doctor. Or don't you remember that it's a mad scientist's job to exact revenge on the heroes who put him... how does it go... in the 'big house'?"

"Shall we perform obscene surgery on apes again?"

"No, that's played out, I think... it's so Year Two. Besides, I've got a better idea..."

The two men laughed maniacally as they strolled out into the Arizona desert, and even after the chaos the melting watchtowers had caused, it didn't take long for word to get around: the mad scientists Dr. Bousquet and Dr. Plexico had escaped.

"'Ey!" one voice cried from its lonely cell after the rumors had reached that far. "What about me? Aaa...balls to you, ye bleedin' wankers! You ha'n't seen the last o' me! The Insidious Dr. Gow shall 'ave 'is revenge! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-kek... kaff kaff... ah... bloody hell! The maniacal laughter bit STILL needs some work..."

TO BE CONTINUED...

The one-two punch of issues #43-44, featuring the Batroc-Toad fight and the return of the Red Guardian, garnered more mail than I've ever received on a single story. Let's leap right in.

First letter is from Jason Trenner:

I love this title..it reminds me of the Joe Kelly era Deadpool(weird humor and lots of character exploration). Nice to see the Flash being used(unlike his Marvel Comic status). I have a few questions:

Jason,

Thanks for the letter! To answer your questions in order:

Next up is a review posted to the MV1talk list by this title's founder, and writer of the excellent Champions spin-off mini, Road Trip, Mark Beaulieu.

Champions #43 and #44 by Russ Anderson: I read these at lunch today and found them to be quite satisfying. I enjoyed the scrabble game between Bonita, Cassie, and Barry. Cassie playing the matchmaker was nicely done. Batroc giving Diamondback a pep talk (if you could call it that) was great. Especially the part where Diamondback gets offended by Batroc. That was sweet. While I don't agree with Russ' interpretation of Batroc's obsession of Cap, I can see the reasoning behind it.

Batroc's soliloquy on Cap raised a few sets of eyebrows. Rest assured that it was intended entirely as a gag -- much as I'm sure the revelation that Batroc's accent is fake was intended. Don't expect Georges to show up at Cap's door with roses and a tub of body butter any time soon.

The chase scene between the Widow and the person she thinks she's chasing was fantastic. I would like to find out who the guy flying around the dance floor was, but I assume we will find out soon.

The Toad was a great choice for a villain to fight Batroc (even though Batroc should've won ). I think I'm Batroc's only fan. :) The part with Steve was classic. There would be villain worshippers so nice work.

Batroc's loss to the Toad wasn't arbitrary. We'll be exploring the effects the fight had on him up thru the end of my run in #50.

Also, I'm glad you liked the Widow's fight scene. I thought that worked out surprisingly well myself.

One complaint: Are you saying that Beware of Dog was better than Ze Lettairs? Bah! :)

Ze Lettairs was my second choice... if that makes you feel any better. :-)

Also, I think I may have written this in a confusing manner in my last review:

"If you couldn't stand my run on Champions, you may want to try out the Barry and Russ run. It's good stuff. There's still humor, but it's really a different feel for the series. I highly recommend this issue in particular."

And Russ responds:

"I'll take that as a fine compliment, coming from this title's founder."

It was meant as a big compliment. I was trying to get people who didn't like my work to read yours. You're doing a great job on the title and I don't want any dislike for my issues to stop people from reading yours. I hope that's clear this time.

It was clear the first time. I'm very proud of the fact that you've enjoyed my run so far, considering I'm such a huge fan of your own run on this title. Sorry if I wasn't clear on that.

Next is a brief thought from last issue's victi--I mean guest-star, Steve Crosby, writer of Kree Corps, Externals, and X-Men.

Just read 'em, and I laughed my ass off! The only reason I'm not gonna kick Russ' ass is cause it was so funny. I should, but I won't.

P.S. Shouldn't Toad have been electrocuted? It'd have been hilarious of he had been.

Nah, Toad wouldn't have been electrocuted... the line was shielded. If it hadn't been, the two of them would have fried themselves when they first grabbed onto it.

I'll try to remember to make you laugh every time I do something bad to you in one of my stories. That way I won't have to worry about that ass-kicking.

Next up (told you there were a lot of letters) is BE extraordinaire Jason Snyder, who also happens to write Web of Spider-Man, Archetype, and Ka-Zar.

SUMMARY:
Issue #43--This issue comes off as "When Harry Met Sally" rather than a comic book-related story. Sparks heat up between Firebird and the Flash, and the Black Widow wonders about Ant-Man's disappearance and her feelings for him. The re-appearance of Natasha's ex-husband and the Toad also happen this issue.

Issue #44--The issue opens with Batroc and the Toad duking it out while Hercules and Guinea Pig watch on. Meanwhile, Firebird and the Flash encounter, Plasma, a herald of Galactus, who transports them off-planet where they encounter Aeon (a.k.a. Scott Lang, the Ant-Man). Later, the Toad confronts his ultimate nemesis, a fanboy (whose ID will remain a secret until further down in the review). Back with Aeon, both the Flash and Firebird fight their former friend who wants to send Plasma back to her correct timeline. Toad defeats Batroc while Cassie meets her long-lost aunt who wants to take her home.

THOUGHTS:
The Good:
Issue #43--A great way to open a story: with a Scrabble scene between Cassie and Bonita. Oooo, and do I sense some long-needed attraction between our resident speedster and our Spanish flower? My NC-17 sense is tingling. =)

Later on, we see Cassie trying to set Barry and Bonita up. That sly little minx. =) I love it, though!

Next scene has Diamondback moping over her decision to quit the Champions. Batroc talks to her and tries to confide in her that he understands her obsession with Cap (more on this later).

Black Widow's scene was nice as she's showing some personal doubts. Honestly, I like the narrative Russ gives her, which has been more interesting than either Devin Grayson or Greg Rucka have given her in the last two limited series.

Issue #44--The banter between the English and the French...er...I mean the Toad and Batroc...is priceless. Great stuff!

I also like the "working" relationship between Firebird and the Flash. They're perfect for each other.

The first appearance of fanboy, Steve Crosby (and I'm guessing Will is "Will Short"). Yep, Steve is the ultimate fanboy, and it was good that he got his just dessert from his role model, the Toad. Heh.

Wow, that's a lot of good stuff! Thank Barry Reese for the Flash-Firebird attraction, as that probably never would have occurred to me (I still have trouble wrapping my brain around it, in fact). And yes, that was indeed Will Short giving Steve his props for getting his ass kicked by the Toad. :-)

The Bad:
Issue #43: Alexi, Black Widow's ex-husband. This is more of a personal bias, but I simply hate any Russian subplot. Hopefully, this won't turn into that.

Trust me and stay tuned.

Black Widow and Ant-Man's supposed attraction--These two are totally different from each other, and I'm not a firm supporter of the "opposites attract" theory. Natasha has always been attracted to rogues like Hawkeye and Daredevil rather than straight-shooting science geeks like Scott Lang. If anything happens, I doubt it'll last.

The Ant-Man/Widow thing was something else that I wasn't responsible for but that I'm slowly growing to like more and more as I continue my run. Keep in mind, also, that Natasha has never claimed to have any feelings for Scott, only guilt at not returning the feelings he had for her before it was too late.

Issue #44--The Aeon/Ant-Man plot seems like another "oh no, we have to fight our former ally and stop him from committing an act that he'll regret later on." Yeah, we know Scott will come back just in time to stop Cassie's aunt from taking her home.

If you've read this issue, you know I went another route with getting rid of Cassie's aunt. How the Widow's admittedly uncharacteristic decision this issue will affect her and the team will be explored for the rest of my run.

The Ugly:
Issue #43: Batroc's Captain America obsession--Okay, this is just wrong...wrong, wrong, wrong. I always thought Batroc was obsessed with Cap because he's a great fighter rather than his chiseled chin or what he'd look like bare-chested. *Shudder* Now I'll never sleep.

See my response to Baloo on this score earlier in the lettercol.

Issue #44--Toad's substance all over Steve's face...well, on second thought, anything that covers Steve's face can only be an improvement. =)

Heh... you said "Toad's substance all over Steve's face"... cool...

Overall: Good job, Russ. You still capture the hilarious feel that has been a Champions trademark. I'd recommend Russ' entire run...hell, the entire Champions run...if you like your funny books...well...funny. =)

-Jason

Thanks Jason.

Next (and last... whew, maybe I should have saved some of these for next issue... no one's going to read this issue when they see how friggin' long it is, after all...) is a second letter from Jason Trenner, who apparently got tired of waiting for me to write this issue (it has been a while...).

• Can we Marvel Boy(a golden age hero that was part of the Modern Age Liberty Legion) and Hercules sort out how Marvel Boy can be the reincarnation of Hercules?
• In the Avengers Spotlight Hercules story Cerberus talked...why hasn't he said anything to the Champions? And can his offspring talk?

Thanks for the letter! Now about your questions...

• Honestly, no. It's a good idea, and I could probably build a neat story around it, but I've got my run pretty much mapped out right up to #50, after which I'll be leaving and a new writer will be coming on board. Besides, that sounds like a story I'd rather leave to Avengers 1958 writer, Bob Gansler.
• Haha... I wasn't even aware Cerberus had appeared in the real Marvel U before. To answer your question... I'll say that Cerberus probably can talk... but he won't be doing so during my run. I like my vicious, 3-headed demon dogs mute, and the puppies will be staying so as well
  (That would make a funny moment tho, Cerberus piping up in the middle of a meeting and everybody except Hercules is stunned into silence by it).