Blue Light Special

Chapter Three: Wanted- Dead or Alive

Los Angeles, California

I: Pepper

The first night that she had no contact from her employer, Pepper Potts wasn’t too worried.

He had probably just taken a little trip over the border, to paint the town red with some Mexican girls in Tijuana for Cinco de Mayo.

Pepper called his doctor, and had his antibiotics filled from the last incident, just in case.

When the next day passed, and every check she made on Mr. Stark’s adjoining suite found it empty, she began to worry.

Then, when he didn’t answer any of his pages, she did her best not to panic.

After all, he is Iron Man, he may be on some kind of mission.

In Tijuana.

On the weekend of Cinco de Mayo.

Right.

On the third day with no contact, Pepper contacted Captain America, who told her that if Tony was on a mission, the Avengers didn’t know anything about it.

Shortly after that, she received a phone call from Rhodey.

He wanted to know where Tony was, too.

Pepper began making telephone calls to some of Mr. Stark’s girlfriends.

She even called his favourite deli in Manhattan.

No luck.

On the morning of the third day, Nick Fury, himself, showed up at her suite, wanting to know where Tony Stark was.

He and Cap had been unable to locate Tony.

Even S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t know where he was.

At that point, Pepper decided it would be safe to panic, but she knew that she could not afford to do so.

She began checking hospitals in San Diego and Tijuana that afternoon, and was about to start checking with local police departments in both of those cities when the phone in her suite began to ring.

Pepper fairly dove for it.

“Tony, this had better be you!”

“Hello, Pepper. I’m so sorry you haven’t heard from me. I’m going to need you to come to San Diego, and bring everything with you. I’ve got a suite reserved for you, in my hotel, right next to Presidential Suite.”

“Where have you been? Nick Fury came here this morning looking for you! You might have called!”

“Actually, I wasn’t in any shape to use my phone call. I’ve spent the last three or four days in a filthy jail cell in Tijuana. It was horrible. I was drugged in a bar, and whoever drugged me tried to rip my chest plate out. He broke a few wires and I was lying in a bunk, hovering at the brink of death. The place was unimaginably filthy and disgusting. It was just like the Mexican prisons in an old John Wayne movie.”

“Oh my God! Are you alright? Have you been seen by a doctor?”

“That’s what I was thinking. And I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor. Fortunately, the Harlequin was in town, and she got drugged in the same bar and tossed into the same jail. She helped me do some repairs and nursed me back to health with fresh water, bananas, Hershey bars and Remy-Martin. As soon as I was up to it, we broke out of jail, and now I’m in San Diego. We’re going to have to find out who did this to us and why, and who he’s working for. And if he’s got plans for any other masks. I tried to explain that to Bruce Wayne, but apparently if I don’t have proof in four days, him and some mystery mask that he’s apprenticed Liv to, and General Custer and the 7th Cavalry are swooping in. Of course it should only take us 12 hours. 24 hours, tops.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. Pepper, the woman’s a genius, and she has nerves of steel. And she saved my life. Tell me again why I let the feds hire her out from under me?”

“Let me see. I brought you her resume when she was fresh out of NYU and told you that I thought you should hire her. You glanced at it and told me that you ate lunch in the same place as she did and that you didn’t want to hire any masks, that one superhero using Stark Industries as a cover was enough. I told you that Liv Napier had some rough edges, but she was recognised in the scientific community as one of the most brilliant minds of her generation, that she was Dr. Manhattan’s intern at his lab, had been hand-trained by Batman, and that the Justice League took her on as a trainee when she was only 16. And you said that you didn’t think a girl as young as she was could take on the kinds of responsibilities that a position at Stark Industries would entail. Then, last year, I got you a copy of her Tesla paper, and asked you if you wanted to make her an offer. You asked me why you hadn’t pursued her more aggressively. I reminded you of what you said the year before and agreed with yourself again. You also said something about her possibly having help from Jon with the paper, which I found extremely insulting.”

“I was full of shit. A male chauvinist pig.”

“You certainly were.”

“That was before I became a feminist. What was I thinking?”

“I believe you just thought that since she was just a girl, she couldn’t be as smart as you were. A mistake that Dr. Manhattan didn’t make. He hired her on in the same week that you tossed her resume. Now Ms. Napier is his principal assistant and he’s supervising her graduate studies for her M.S. in quantum physics, as she already has an M.S. in history and one in evolutionary biology. I also gave you a copy of her thesis on Darwinian selection and the X-factor, in which she used the morphology of Wolverine’s claws to prove that mutants are another step on the continuum of human evolution, not a separate species from homo sapiens.”

“Napalm wrote that?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“My God. And to think she wears men’s military underwear. Oh well, all geniuses are eccentric, aren’t they? But you’re absolutely right, Pepper. I was an idiot. I admit it. Now I have to rectify my own stupidity. I want Liv Napier.”

“It sounds to me like you’ve already had her.”

“Very funny, Pepper. Now, how soon can you be here?”

“In about two hours, Mr. Stark.”

“That’s too soon. How about first thing in the morning?”

“Do you like her that much?”

“She’s a fascinating woman, Pepper.”

“Yes, she is. I will call Mr. Fury right away and tell him that you are alive and well and that you and the Harlequin are working on a special mission together in an undisclosed location. I’ll be there at nine. Sharp.”

“What would I do without you, Pepper?”

“I don’t want to think about that, Mr. Stark.”

“Neither do I. And get me everything on Trivelino J. Napier. Stark Industries is now officially very interested.”

After she got off the phone with her employer, Pepper Potts placed a call to the Avengers Mansion.

“Hello? Tony?”

“No, Cap, it’s Pepper. I found him. He’s alive. It was a near miss, but he made it.”

“What do you mean, a near miss? I just talked to Bruce Wayne, or rather I just listened to him scream incoherently at me for ten minutes or so. All I could get out of it was that his stepdaughter and Tony went on some kind of crazy booze and hanky-panky binge, together. The poor guy. Napalm is really driving him crazy. What happened?”

“Tony’s version or what really happened?”

“What really happened? The short version.”

“Tony went to Tijuana for Cinco de Mayo. He got extremely drunk and passed out in the street and damaged his chest plate. The federales put him in the drunk tank, where he languished on the edge of death for a few days. Fortunately for him, the Harlequin was in town, debauching herself thoroughly, and got tossed in the same drunk tank. She helped him repair himself, nursed him back to health, and then they broke out of jail. They’re in the Presidential Suite at Tony’s hotel in San Diego, and they’ve convinced themselves that someone was trying to off them. It’s good news for Ms. Napier, all the sudden Mr. Stark has realised she’s a genius and he’s hot to have her in a position of importance at Stark Industries. On the other hand, in that he told me not to be there until the morning, it’s a safe bet he’s hot to have her in a few other positions, as well. At least that and this murderer on the loose idea will keep them busy and happy until we can get their mess cleaned up for them and have them both safely back in New York.” Pepper replied.

“Oh my God! What the hell…how could he…a grown man…on what goddamn planet…Iron Man for Chrissakes…he…I… Now I sound like Bruce! No wonder he was screaming incoherently! Go and get Tony. And bring him back here before four days. That is the most important part. Do you know who the Harlequin’s been apprenticed to? Do you know who’s riding in at high noon to clean up the town in four days?”

“No. Who?”

Captain America told her.

Pepper dropped the phone.

“Pepper?” she heard him say from the floor.

“Steve, he…he wouldn’t!”

“Pepper, this is Bruce’s little girl we’re talking about. And she’s in a real bad way with the drinking and the fighting and car crashes and everything she does to herself. If the bottle doesn’t kill her, a knife, a gun, or a fiery accident will. And soon. He would. If I were him, I would.”

“Don’t worry. Mr. Stark will be back in three days. I want to give them both time to recover.”

“That’s probably for the best. If Napalm comes back in bad shape and her partner finds out she got that way with Tony, excuse my language, but, his ass is grass. I’ll take care of explaining what happened to Nick. You just make sure that Tony and Napalm are rested and ready to return home as soon as possible.”

“I’ll be in San Diego soon, Cap. I’ll see to it that everything is under control.”

“When Tony gets back here, I’m going to knock him on his ass and send him to rehab.”

“I’ll have him packed and ready to go.”

II: Tony

Pepper knew him all too well.

There was something that fascinated him about Liv Napier, and he wasn’t sure if it was her independence, her brilliance, her merry madness, or her fierce intemperate horniness.

After taking a very long shower, he sauntered into the bedroom in a bathrobe.

Liv was not there.

“I’m in the office.” She called.

She had her underwear on, which was sexier than you would have thought it was, and had tacked a large piece of paper to the wall and was sitting in front of some scrawled-on scraps, chewing on the end of a pen.

“If we’re going to figure out who did this before Bruce’s deadline, we’d better get to work. Business before pleasure, yunno.” She said.

She had a point.

Tony sat down, and they got to work.

***

They spent hours and reams of paper, running scenarios, mapping out possibilities, and looking for evidence.

As night fell, they were only able to conclude that some person, at El Toro Loco (or Loco Toro) either for their own unknown reasons or the unknown reasons of other persons equally unknown had drugged his drink on one day, and hers a day or so later, and that the federales had mistook them for drunks and thrown them in jail.

“We could always go back to TJ, in costume, and look around.”

“We could. Or we could accept that Bruce is right.”

“I refuse. Because if Bruce is right, then you and I are a couple of pathetic, shit-faced stumbling drunks badly in need of rehab before we manage to cut off our genius in its prime with some absurd and deadly mishap that comes out of an alcoholic twilight.” Tony pronounced.

“Oh, I’ve already admitted that to myself. I bottomed out about six weeks ago; when I got to the MORC I was too fuckin' sick to walk in under my own steam. Pneumonia. Cracked ribs. Malnutrition. Exhaustion. Near-fatal alcohol poisoning. Not to mention my knee. That last bout of the ol' Troubles almost killed me. But, had I died, I woulda taken thirty Church of Humanity sonsabitches with me. Anyway I went over the wall at the S.H.I.E.L.D rehab with a week to go, and on a bum leg to go and have one last drunken hurrah before I have to limit myself to a lifetime of moderation. In drinking, only, I mean. Hell, maybe I just did it because they say the place was impregnable. Last person to bust out was Logan, in 1954. Hell, if hre could do it, I figured I could do it too. After we cklear thsi up, I guess I'll be goin' back.” Liv admitted.

Tony was, albeit briefly, shocked into silence.

"Napalm, I think I'll just leave the suit at home and go out with you on my shoulders. Well, seeing as how it seems we've come to the end of this little charade, why don’t we call room service, have a few drinks, and then go to bed?”

“Sounds like a good idea. But I still say we never cop to it. That it was all our fault. After all, it’s the principle of the thing. And we may be right, and Bruce may be wrong, after all.”

“Napalm, I couldn’t agree more.”

***

It was late at night when the phone began to ring at Wayne Manor.

“Hello?” said the sleepy voice.

“Selena? It’s Liv. Sorry to wake you, but me and Tony, we been workin’ on this thing half the night. Can I talk to Bruce?”

“Wait a minute, Liv. He’s not in the bed. But that’s no surprise. I figured he’d be up worrying about you. ”

She waited for the phone to change hands.

“Caught youse with your pants down, huh, Pop? What would the scandal sheets say?”

“The scandal sheets don’t know Selena’s and my secret identities. What time is it?”

“One. Two, maybe. Listen, Pop, after Tony and I crack this thing, I was thinkin’, I’m gonna give the rehab joint another chance. Hell, I always intended to go back and finish."

"Then why did you escape?"

"Because they said it couldn't be done. And it was Cinco de Mayo. An' TJ was right around the corner. I just wanted ta have one last hurrah, Pop. After I ice this Mex who was givin’ us trouble, I’ll go back to Superhero General. I just wanted youse to know that. Youse can get some sleep, now.”

“I just might. Are you getting anywhere with your investigation?”

“Not yet. But we’ll have something soon. I’ll call you back.”

“Why don’t you two get some sleep? Maybe you’ll be more reasonable in the morning.”

“Prob’ly a good idea, Pop. G’night.”

“Good night, Liv.”

Bruce hung up the phone, and rolled over on his side.

Selena looked at the ceiling for awahile.

"She did it just to prove she could. Just like her father. He'll have one day left in Arkham, and break out just to show us all he can." he finally said.

"Well, he is her father, Bruce. And that was quite a feat. Do you want me to tell him she's alright?"

“Well I’m sure as hell not going to.”

Batman got out of bed.

“I’m not tired. I’m never tired at night. Are you Selena?”

“Not really.” Catwoman replied.

“Then let’s go out.”

“In costume, or out of it?”

“Very funny.”

“Well, you know me, Bruce. I’m always up for a good scratch.”

****

After dinner, over drinks, Iron Man and the Harlequin had a very heartfelt discussion.

“You know, Napalm, I hate to admit it, but most of the woman I sleep with I have no interest in ever speaking to again…”

“I’m the same way. I used to fuck a lot of real tough guys, but I almost got my dumb ass killed, so now I see Logan every Wednesday and stick to my groupies. Fuck ‘em and forget ‘em, that’s what you do with them.”

“…but I don’t feel that way about you at all. Before I say anything else to you, though, I have to apologise to you for being a sexist male chauvinist pig.”

Liv raised an eyebrow.

“Because you wanted to be on top?”

“No. Because when you put your resume in to Stark Industries I made a series of judgements about you based on your appearance and that you’re a woman and I didn’t take you seriously, as a scholar, a scientist, or a mask. But that was before I became a feminist.”

“When did you become a feminist?”

“At the end of last year when I dated Gloria Steinem.”

Liv laughed.

“I accept your apology. Now, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to come and work for me after you finish your post-graduate work. No, let me rephrase that. I want you to come and work with me after you finish your post-graduate work.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I have had other offers.”

“Are you turning me down?”

“Not really.”

“Nobody ever turns me down! I think I like it. You’re a genius, you’re a superhero, you fuck like a porn star and you’re a challenge.”

Liv laughed.

“You mean you were impressed by that quickie in the car? What’s the matter with these high class chicken-legged women you go around with, man? Do they just lie there and take it? Fucking is one of my superhero skills, baby. I take it very seriously and I practise all the time.”

“So, you’re telling me that you have not yet begun to fuck?”

“You’ll know when I do. You’ll be begging me for mercy.”

“Me? Oh no, my dear. I’m not one of your callow young groupies, Napalm. I’m Tony Stark. I need not explain myself any further.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Because I am the God of Fuck.”

Iron Man was deadly serious.

So was the Harlequin.

“Then, shall we let the contest begin?”

“Yeah. Time to find out who’s the champ, and who’s the chump. We’ll start in the office, and make out way around the suite. Howzat sound to you?”

“Promising.”

Liv took off her underwear and Tony took off his bathrobe.

“Why the office, Napalm? Could it be because you know I’ve been wanting to have you over the desk all day?” Tony asked.

“Something like that.”

Liv got up on the desk.

“Napalm, did I ever tell you about this fantasy I have about having raunchy, dirty, porno movie sex with some red-hot ultravixen on top of the Avengers meeting table? You wouldn’t happen to have a Priority One Security Clearance, would you?”

“I work with Dr. Manhattan. I’m a Justice League trainee. Of course I do. And that sounds like fun to me.”

“Napalm, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“Me too.”

III: Pepper

Pepper Potts arrived at the hotel suite reserved for her at nine, sharp.

She unpacked and arranged her belongings and set up in the suite’s office, then went to have breakfast.

Around noon, she collected her employer’s suitcases and went to his suite to awaken him and unpack.

The manager had given her an extra key.

Of course, she went through the formality of knocking on the door, but she wasn’t surprised when there was no answer.

Carefully, she entered the suite.

“Mr. Stark?”

There was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey on its side on the coffee table in the main part of the suite, and the pillows had been thrown off of the couch.

She threw the bottle in the wastepaper basket in the office, which had six empty beer cans in it.

Pepper picked up the couch pillows by the very end and put them back on the couch.

She proceeded to the office, where the desk was strewn with papers, and two chairs on the other side.

More beer cans and another bottle in the trash.

There was a large piece of paper taped to the wall, with a chart on it that was lettered in both Tony’s scrawl and frantic but neat block lettering.

Liv Napier’s work.

Pepper straightened up the desk, and proceeded to the door of the bedroom, which she knocked loudly upon.

She had already decided to humour them and their Mad Mex theory.

It would be easier to arrange them both safely home to New York before the deadline, that way.

“Mr. Stark?” she called.

No answer.

Squaring her shoulders and prepared for anything, she opened the door to the bedroom.

The place looked like a bomb hit it.

Pillows everywhere, blankets on the floor, sheets half on the bed and half on the floor, mattress crooked, end-table overturned, more beer cans and another empty bottle, lamp broken.

Clearly, an epic battle had taken place here.

But where were the combatants?

And who had won?

A blowing curtain led Pepper to the open sliding door to the balcony.

There was a woman in what appeared to be GI-issue underwear, with hair that was much longer and a slightly darker shade of red than hers, leaning over the balcony’s railing.

She was a little shorter than Pepper, but had a stockier, curvier build, and was smoking a cigarette.

“Ms. Napier, I presume?”

The woman turned around.

She looked younger than Pepper thought she would, but she had a tough streetwise quality that belied her years and youthful appearance.

She also looked tired.

Considering the appearance, condition and fragrance of the suite, that was understandable.

“Liv.”

Pepper looked around the corner.

There was a swing with a large cushion on it rocking gently in the breeze, and lying across that cushion, a quiet bluish-white glow emanating from his chest beneath one of the missing sheets from the bedroom, was her employer.

He was fast asleep.

“I cleaned up the office and the living room. I ain’t got to the bedroom, yet. I was gonna make the bed an’ try to move ‘im, but the most I can lift cold and move is about one-fifty and I think Tony goes about two-fifteen, tw0-twenty. I could try it, but not with my leg the way it is. ”

“Who won?” Pepper asked.

“It was a draw. I woke up half in and half out of the room. At least Tony made it to the swing.” Liv answered

“I’ll help you make the bed and we can move him.”

“You don’t want to touch those sheets.”

“I’ve been working for him for years. I’m used to getting my hands dirty.”

Pepper didn’t speak to Liv as they made the bed, or as they carried a sleeping Tony to it, she just watched her.

Before Mr. Stark was Iron Man, he spent all of the time that he wasn’t working for Stark Industries or on one of his own projects in a cheerful alcoholic twilight, passing smoothly from drink to drink, party to party and woman to woman with his customary charming but mad élan, and it was up to Pepper to screen said women, to make sure that they were brainless and harmless enough to mean him no harm.

Those who were gold diggers, or starfuckers, or land-shark reporters, or had other various disturbing issues and ulterior motives she weeded out, efficiently and quickly.

Since Mr. Stark had become Iron Man…

Well, he was working more of the time, he had developed a social conscience and he had even recently become a member of NOW.

Pepper knew that as a scientist, a historian, a superhero and a card-carrying Brooklyn street tough, not to mention an heiress to two formidable trust funds and a corporate empire that Liv Napier didn’t fall into any of the above categories, but considering that she also had a reputation as an unpredictable alcoholic with a quick temper and a penchant for fighting who also occasionally subject to violent outbreaks of suicidal alcoholism and towering ultraviolent rage that sometimes lasted for several days, Pepper was careful to watch and observe the Harlequin to make sure she was in possession of all her faculties.

After the bed was made and Tony was put in it, Pepper observed that Liv cast a mechanic’s eye on the radiating chest plate as they pulled the blankets over him.

She looked around, and grabbed a pair of Levi’s from the floor, and pulled them on.

“Is there someplace around here I can get a decent bagel with cream cheese and a whole lot of strong black coffee? I had a real heavy night. My head is pounding and my legs feel like somebody pulled the bones out of them.”

“I know just the place. We can talk. I’ll have the front desk get us a taxi.”

“Is it close? They sent me up a cane, I can make it.”

“It’s close. But if you need the cane, we’d better get a ride.”

***

At a nearby deli, Pepper Potts asked Liv Napier the 64 million dollar question.

“Liv, before you met up with Mr. Stark in the jail, how well did you know him?”

“Not much. We both eat at Grossmann’s. He knew me well enough to yell “Napalm” with everbody else when I came in. Every time I walked past him he looked at my tits and my ass, and pretended he wasn’t. I didn’t mind, but I never pushed it with him. I know the kinds of cats who go for me and they ain’t cats like Tony Stark. I knew he was Iron Man, he knew I was the Harlequin, sometimes we’d say good morning and good afternoon and good night. I think we had two or three conversations about nothing in particular when we were the only people in the place, and I knew he didn’t hire me to work for him because he thought I was just a dumb broad who spent her life pounding the shit out of half the low-lives in New York City and screwing the other half. Which is my cover, so I didn’t mind. Too much.”

“In that case, what made you take the time to figure out how to save Mr. Stark’s life, risk being shot by prison guards to steal the materials, and give up half of the miniscule amount of food and water you had smuggled into the cell with you to nurse him back to health?”

“We’re both masks. Even if I hadn’t taken an oath when the Justice League made me a trainee that I would risk my own life to save the life of one of my brothers and sisters, I would have done the same thing. We masks are alone in the world and we’ve got ta take care of each other.” Liv said.

“And that’s why you’re going to work with Mr. Stark to find out who tried to kill him?”

“Well, he tried to kill me, too. But, yeah. The guy might be after all of us. Hell, an attack on one of us is an attack on all of us. Somebody has to catch him, sure. But somebody has to kill him. I got lots of bad guy blood on my hands. I don’t mind a little more. It’s what I do.”

“Honor, loyalty, honesty and a sense of duty. Not what most people expect of you.”

Liv shrugged.

“I’m a drunk, and a killer and a shanty-Irish whore. Don’t argue with me, please, you’ve only just met me, you don’t know me the way I know me, and I‘m telling you, I am what I am, and I ain’t ashamed of it or bothered by it. I do the dirty jobs that no other mask will touch for the forgotten people that no other mask will help. I ain’t good, I ain’t decent, and I sure as hell ain’t innocent an’ clean. Honour, loyalty, honesty and a sense of duty are all I got seperatin’ me from the people I’m fighting. If I lose them, I’m lost, too.” She said.

Pepper’s heart went out to the young woman who sat across the table from her.

If she wasn’t good and decent, she wouldn’t care about being lost.

But Pepper still had Mr. Stark to think about.

“I’m glad you’re such an honest woman. That means I don’t have to mince my words. I hear you’re quite a man-eater. I know you think it’s none of my business, but it’s my job to look after him, and, I just need to know what your personal motives are.”

When Liv Napier smiled, she looked a little bit more like her father than Pepper Potts was comfortable with.

“I like Tony. I made myself a promise, a coupla years back, when I almost got raped and murdered in a flophouse by the Brooklyn Slasher that I was only going to screw two kinds of guys from then on in. The occasional harmless groupie for splash and dash, and guys I liked that I could trust. The first list is long, the second list is too goddamn short. I like Tony. I think I can trust him. And he is one goddamn good-looking son-of-a-bitch. And I don’t mean good-looking in a way. I mean good-looking like a fucking movie star. Tony’s the classiest, best-lookin’ guy who ever showed any interest in a little Mick mutt from Brooklyn like me. I’d have to be a lez or dead to turn down my only chance at that kinda action.”

“Like a cross between Errol Flynn and Sean Connery?”

“Yeah. And he’s about three and a half inches shy of Johnny Holmes, and the man sure knows his way around a mattress. I’m gonna go out and buy some knee pads and elbow pads and a crash helmet before the evening rolls around.”

Pepper couldn’t help it, and even though she was blushing, she started to laugh.

“I mean it. When I get back to New York, I’m firing my chiropractor. My leg’s almost perfectly fine, now. Next time I throw my back out, or kink my leg up, or anything, I’m calling Tony.”

Liv grinned, and made an obscene and unmistakable hand signal with her clenched fist and her forearm.

Pepper laughed even harder.

She was beginning to like Liv Napier, in spite of herself.

“We’d better get back to the hotel. I have a feeling Dracula is going to be arising from his crypt.” Liv said

“You may not like Mr. Stark as well after you’ve seen him first thing in the afternoon. Go ahead, stay here and finish your breakfast. You’ve been doing my job for me long enough.”

***

When Pepper returned to the suite, Mr. Stark was still asleep, but by the time she had unpacked his suitcases and hung up his clothes in the closet and put them in the drawers and then proceeded into the living room to call room service for breakfast, she heard the customary stumbling, groaning and cursing from the bedroom, followed by Mr. Stark’s customary appearance in his undershorts as he put on whatever robe was handy.

She had coffee ready.

“Good morning, Pepper.” He muttered.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Stark.”

“Is it that late?”

“It’s two.”

“I feel lucky to be awake at all. Where’s my little textbook on nymphomania?”

“Miss Napier is having coffee and bagels at the deli three blocks away.”

“Did you get the files on her I asked you for?”

“Yes. And I read them.”

“Before you start, Pepper, I know she drinks, I know she’s crazy, I know she’s killed almost as many men as she’s gone to bed with and I know about the Troubles.”

“Did you know that Bruce Wayne has approached the Comedian several times about taking her on as an apprentice, because he and the Justice League feel like Eddie Blake is the only man in New York City who could possibly get her to get her act together?”

“Everybody knows that. And Eddie keeps refusing.”

“Kept refusing, Mr. Stark. About four months ago, on a routine manoeuvre with Rorschach and the Nite Owl to quell a disturbance, the Watchmen came upon a full scale and violent gang riot in the warehouse district. Apparently, the Comedian misjudged the odds against him, and leapt out of the Nite Owl’s airship into the crowd of rioting, heavily armed murderers, and was immediately overtaken.”

That got his attention.

“What happened?”

“According to the Nite Owl, he was sure that even though the Comedian would have taken thirty or forty of the rioters with them, he almost certainly would have been killed. As would anyone who went to his aid. That was why he and Rorschach decided not to leave the airship, and to try and help from above. Now, the Harlequin often goes on missions with Nite Owl and his partner, and she was on this mission at the behest of the Comedian. Less than thirty seconds after they watched the crowd swallow Eddie Blake alive, Liv Napier, who has no paratrooper training, executed a fifty foot jump to the ground below, and even though she severely injured her leg when she landed, she fought her way over to the Comedian, and tossed him an extra weapon. The rioters gave her a wide berth after she scalped one of them with a Buck knife, and she shot the man the Comedian was engaging with his fists point-blank in the face from less than six inches away. The Harlequin tossed the Comedian one of her guns, put her back against his, and they fought on. That gave Nite Owl enough time to position his ship to rescue both of them. The Harlequin saved the Comedian’s life, and they single-handedly dispelled the riot. After that, the Comedian agreed to take the Harlequin on as an apprentice. They worked together for about two and a half months, in which time her leg did not heal and the extent of her drinking problem hindered her training, so he and the JLA arranged this trip for the Harlequin to convalesce from her leg injury, after which she was supposed to return to New York to resume her apprenticeship.”

Tony looked shocked.

“What made her do a thing like that for a man like Eddie Blake? Come to think of it, what made him want to take on an apprentice all of the sudden?” he asked.

Pepper rolled her eyes.

Sometimes, for a genius, Tony was incredibly thick.

“Well, for one thing, back when the Joker was Crazy Jack Napier, one of the most powerful Irish gangsters in New York, he did a favor for a kid from his neighbourhood. Grandfathered a 14-year-old boy named Eddie Blake into a man's job on a construction site so he could help his widowed mother support his six siblings. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the Blake family and the Napier family remained close; Liv's best friends from the time she was in a stroller are the Comedian's nephew, Paulie, and Sally Jupiter's daughter, Laurie, who's rumored to be the Comedian's daughter, as well. The man has known her all her life. But, then again, why do men and women usually do crazy, impulsive things for each other? Lots of reasons.”

He grimaced.

“That’s not funny, Pepper. It’s creepy. It’s sick. It’s wrong. It’s…”

“Love? How unusual do you think it is for a girl who was separated from her father at an early age and only got to see him once or twice a week when he wasn't in jail, a girl who has a thing for older men who are mad, bad, and dangerous to know, to fall in love with the maddest, baddest, most dangerous man in New York, whon she's known and trusted since she was just a kid? Add to that he's her teacher. And how many teachers fall for their pupils? Plenty. Hell, its' the oldest cliche in the world! Oh Miss So-and-So, I didn't realise you were all grwon up. Just the other day you were only a little girl. But you're a woman now. And so on.”

"You do have a point there, Pepper."

“It may be creepy and sick, and wrong, but everyone has a heart, Tony. Even if it is black as midnight in a coal mine.”

She waited to see if the realisation would dawn on him.

“Wait a minute. You’re telling me that I have been sleeping with a woman that the Comedian most likely has a serious non-professional interest in? A woman who is his shiny new apprentice, hand-picked by him as the most likely mask on which he can impart everything he knows? And I’ve also been attempting to woo her away from Dr. Manhattan, whom he also works with, and induce her to come and work for me, and he could possibly misconstrue that as me trying to suborn his apprentice?”

“Mr. Stark, let’s dispense with the ten-dollar words. In three and a half days, Bruce Wayne is going to tell Eddie Blake that you made off with the woman he’s falling in love with, a woman he feels its his duty and his responsibility to protect. Of course it's not going to help when he also finds out that you are trying to steal his apprentice and that you’ve been screwing her six ways from Sunday and plying her with booze, even though she’s an alcoholic who was at a S.H.I.E.L.D rehab trying to dry out as well as recovering from, among other things, a nasty leg injury that she received while saving his life.”

“What was I saying when I was in jail? Oh yes. Mother of Mercy! Is this the end of little Rico?” Tony replied

Pepper sighed.

“You go ahead and make jokes, Mr. Stark. But we are all going back to New York, tomorrow. Because if the Comedian comes out here to find her and get you, you might just be going back to New York under the plane. With the suitcases. In a pine box.”

IV: Liv

Back at the deli, Liv Napier was on the pay-phone, outside, calling New York.

The last time she’d called Eddie was before she went over the wall, after all.

“What?”

“Hiya, Eddie.”

“Oh, it’s you, huh, kid? Finally! What, they ain’t got phones in that S.H.I.E.L.D joint?”

“Uhhh, I kinda went over the wall. And then I lit out to TJ. I mean it was almost Cinco de Mayo. I was gonna come back after the holiday, but, dig this crazy shit, some cocksucker slipped me a mickey in a goddamn bar and I woke up in fuckin’ jail. With Tony Stark. He was half-dead. They drugged him and tried to rip his batteries out of his heart. So I helped him fix his mechanics, and now I gotta figure out who the fuck was tryin’ to off us and why. I’m in San Diego now, so I’m pretty close to the rehab joint, so I guess I’ll go back once I’ve iced this Mex or Mexes who laid this trip on us. Then I’ll be back to the city to start workin’ with youse.”

“What? WHAT? You did WHAT? Jesus fuckin’ Christ! I fuckin’ told Fury you would do that! I said, put her in a different joint. Put her in the joint in London! You puttin’ the kid that close to TJ especially with Christmas for alkies comin up is like stickin a guy who just got outa prison next door to a fuckin’ whorehouse! And what the fuck is all this shit about Shellhead?”

“I toleja, Eddie somebody’s tryin ta-“

“Bullshit! You two lushes were in the same paradise for stew bums at the same time, and ya just ended up in the drunk tank on different days! Shellhead prob’ly fucked up his works passin’ out on the street like a fuckin’ drunken sailor on shore leave! Where the fuck are you again?”

“San Diego.”

“Good! You an’ where the fuck you’re supposed ta be are close by. Stay there! Go back to the hotel you’re stayin in an’ put your goddamn leg up. And not around Shellhead’s ass! Jesus, what a piece of work! I’ll bet he’s givin you booze and fuckin’ you, when you’re too goddamn drunk ta know which end is up. Of course, so is he.”

“Who said I was fuckin’ him?”

“Don’t insult my intelligence, kid.”

“But Eddie, I can get proof of what I’m sayin’ about somebody tryin ta kill--”

“Proof? Ya want proof? I’ll getcha goddamn proof. Get off that fuckin’ leg, go back to that fuckin’ hotel and stay there. You’ll be hearin’ from me real soon.”

“Okay. G’bye, Eddie.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re some kinda trouble, kid. I can see from now on in, I’m gonna be watchin’ you like a fuckin’ hawk!”

The line went dead.

Liv hung up and called the hotel to send a car for her, then sat on the curb, smoking, to wait for it.

She knew she’d never make it back on foot; her leg was feeling better at the hospital, but now, it was really starting to hurt like Hell again.

At least Eddie was on their side.

Maybe somebody had tried to kill them, after all.

III: Eddie

“…so then I told him, Gordon, you have got to be out of your goddamn mind. These are America’s masked heroes we’re talking about, I don’t think whether or not a few of the younger ones smoke the occasional reefer is going to be a grave matter of our national fucking security.”

Nick Fury rolled his eyes and drummed his fingers on his desk.

“He is out of his goddamn mind. Dick. Eddie thinks he’s out of his goddamn mind. And if Eddie thinks a guy is too much, he’s really too much. Liddy’s only slightly to the left of Hitler.”

“Well, he’s a good man for his job, Nick.”

President Nixon and the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. were both surprised when Nick Fury’s secretary interrupted their conversation.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Director, but Colonel Blake is on the line and he insists on talking to you rght now. I told him you were on the line with Mr. President, but he…”

“That’s alright, miss. Put him on.” Nixon assured her.

“What took to goddamn long? Jesus!”

“Eddie! You sound happy, as usual.”

“I got so much to be happy about, Dick. Nicky-boy here didn’t listen to me and my apprentice went over the wall.”

“At the MORC? Unbelievable.”

“Well, they don’t call her Napalm for nothin’.”

“You found her, Eddie? How?” Nick Fury asked.

“She checked in with me. Anyways, Dick, you think Mr. Director can call youse back in a few minutes? We gotta get hold of this kid. She’s already blown up a jail in TJ, Christ only knows what she’s gonna do, next.”

“I have every confidence in you, Eddie, that you’ll straighten her out. Sometimes all a young person needs is a little guidance. That is, a little guidance from somebody who’s not going to put up with their bullshit. I’ll talk to you both later.”

President Nixon hung up.

“Okay, Eddie, what’s so goddamn important about Napalm that I had to get off the phone with the President of the United States?”

“Nick, you know as well as I do that Dick don’t know shit an’ he never did an’ he never will, and he ain’t never had anything important to say. Whaddya mean, what’s so important? You want her to lay waste to half of Mexico? And what kinda show are you fuckin’ runnin’? I send my apprentice for a little R&R and ta dry at your big-time Superhero General in California, and she ends up in jail in TJ! In the drunk tank! I toleja ta send her someplace in the middle of nowhere! Like fuckin’ Antarctica! I assume you heard that fuckin’ story her and that drunken rich fuck Shellhead have been tellin’ themselves in between swigs of booze.”

“I heard it. I’m not wasting manpower on it, Eddie. It’s bullshit. Two drunks went to Mecca for boozers and ended up in the drunk tank, and Tony fell on his chest plate. The End. Liv’s welcome back if she’s had her fun and she wants to complete the program. That kid shows a lot of promise, Eddie. You made a good choice. No one’s escaped from the California Facility since Lucky Jim back in ’54.”

“I know she does. An’ I don’t wanna see her piss it away. So, now the kid thinks she’s fuckin’ Sherlock Holmes and she’s gonna solve the case. Yeah, right. I want that kid back in the city tomorra, and if she ain’t, I’m comin’ out there, and if I gotta come out there, I’m goin down to TJ and killin’ every Mex beaner motherfucker in that fuckin’ joint an’ you can clean the fuck up after me! Fuck this shit!”

Nick Fury suppressed a laugh.

“You know, Eddie, that’s not a bad idea. It would save us having to pay off the locals. Not to mention the shitstorm about them blowing the roof off a jail and fleeing from the Mexican authorities. Speaking of your good buddy, you think you could stop by the X-Mansion and pick up Logan along the way, and hit the jail, too?”

“That’s the way me an’ him used to do it, during the Big One.”

“Yeah, but those were Nazis.”

“Like I give a fuck, Nick! You wanna plan? I gotta plan. I’m not mollycoddlin’ that kid. She’s gotta know she got herself into this shit. I blow the door of this Mex joint off, break somebody’s jaw, knock a few beaners around. Logan slices a few of ‘em up, just bad enough to scare ‘em. We ask ‘em if anybody knows about a couple of stupid drunk gringos who came around a few days back and throw five bucks American on the bar. Those Mex cocksuckers will sing like a buncha fuckin’ canaries. While we’re down there, we stop by that jail, throw a few grand around, promise Uncle Sam will fix their piecea shit dump for ‘em, and give ‘em the idea they take the offer or we splatter their spic asses all over the fuckin’ walls. Done. Logan goes home, I go to San Diego. That broad who takes care of Shellhead gives him another bottle of Jack Daniels with a fuckin’ rubber nipple on the end and his spade buddy flies him back to New York. I get my apprentice and she gets to go on the Edward Morgan Blake treatment program for fuckin’ pathetic drunks and gutter junkies. I got my sister clean in 1939 and she hasn’t touched junk since an’ she drinks like a normal person. That is after I dump her back at your joint to finish her stint. An’ I’ll be stayin’ local ta make sure she don’t go noplace.”

Nick Fury thought about it, seriously.

“You know what, Eddie? That’s what I call a good plan. Ties up all the loose ends, nice and neat and save me a lot of time, energy and manpower. And I can call the President back and tell him not to worry, that Eddie’s taking care of everything. I wish I could give you a promotion, but you’re already Level 10. Shit, if you were any higher up, you’d be me. Okay, I’ll take care of contacting Wolverine. Transportation will be awaiting you at the usual place on the docks at twenty-hundred hours, New York time.”

“I’ll be there with fuckin’ bells on.”

“One more thing, Colonel Blake. Uncle Sam and Major General Rogers both need Iron Man in one piece.”

“Hey, fuck that asshole Stark! Without that suit on he’s just a cripple and a drunk. He ain’t man enough for me to slap around. Unless the kid’s hurt. I ain’t gonna kill him, but I ain’t gonna kiss him an’ say thanks, either, Nick. I gotta get ready. I’m goin.”

The Comedian hung up, and went to put his costume on.

Time to go to work.