MV1 #2 JANUARY Year 1

by Jason Kenney

A Tale Of Marvel Volume One by Jason S. Kenney
With Plot Assists from Van Allen Plexico, Michael McClelland, Dave Medinnus, and Matt Turnage.

The sky was a bright shade of blue, not a cloud as far as the eye could see.  Birds happily sung their songs of joy and delight as the sun shown down on the gathered crowd.

It was a beautiful day to bury Phil Sheldon.

Perhaps if it were someone else I would smile on the irony of it all, but this wasn't someone else.  This was Pop, my Pop.  This was a husband, a friend, a coworker, a historian.

The crowd gathered to pay their last respects was a mix of names and faces, a who's who in the world of journalism.

Probably the most famous person in the group was Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D.  It was the first time I had ever seen him in person, and, again, were the circumstances different, I might have been a little awed by his presence.  He was a built man with a chiseled chin.  He had a patch over one eye much like the one Pop had, but his good eye was cold and distant, the look of a soldier.  I starred at him for most of the funeral, probably just to keep my mind off the fact I was loosing the man who had meant the most to me in all my life.

Bagpipes crooned Amazing Grace a few yards away, still not drowning out the sobs from the rest of the family.  Mom and Aunt Jenn flanked Granny, my cousins Laura and Sara next to Aunt Jenn, Uncle Tom on the end.  I just stood to the other side of Mom with an arm over her shoulder for comfort.  Other than Uncle Tom, I was the only one in the family not crying.  Not that I didn't feel the need to.  I had to be strong and suck it up, be there for the others.

It's what Pop would have wanted.

"I'll be right behind you," I said as the funeral ended and everyone made their ways back to their cars.  Granny grabbed and squeezed my hand for a second, looking at me with those tear filled eyes.  "I'll just be a moment."

She smiled weakly and walked with the rest of the family to the cars.

I turned to the casket, alone with Pop.

"Well, Pop," I said, looking up and beyond the white casket, "I guess this is goodbye."  I looked down to my feet as I felt tears well into my eyes.  "I . . . I just want you to know . . . well . . . I'm sorry about that article, the one you never got to see."  I looked back up and at the coffin.  "I just wanted you to know that.  I just didn't want you to go thinking that . . . well, that I would do something like that.  I know it wasn't your way.  It's not mine . . . not anymore . . . never again."  I rested my left hand on the casket, wiping my nose real quick with my right hand.  "I love ya, Pop.  Keep an eye on everyone, alright?"

I stood there for a moment, looking around, looking at the beautiful sky, listening to the beautiful bird songs.  Then, I turned and walked to the rest of the family at the cars.

It was a beautiful day to bury Phil Sheldon.

I spent most of the wake staring into a rum and coke.  A few people interrupted my contemplation of the drink with a mix of condolences on Pop's death and congrats on the front page article.  Quite a mixed bag.

I stepped outside halfway into the gathering for some air.  I was alone on the front porch.  Alone to look out across the lawn of what used to be Pop's house.  My eyes rested on a tree that stood tall to the side of the house.

I thought back to the days when Pop used to help me climb that very tree.  Other days where I would just lounge under the tree with him, neither of us doing anything but sitting, watching the world pass by, taking it all in, every last detail.  It was under that tree that Pop taught me how to be a good reporter, just by sitting there and watching.

"That's quite a shadow you're under, son," said a gruff voice behind me.  I turned slightly and followed the man with my eyes as he walked up beside me and lit a cigar.  "You're pop was a damn good reporter."

"Thank you, Colonel," I said as I turned back to staring out.

"You mind?" he asked, gesturing with the already lit cigar.  I shook my head and he went on chewing on the thing.  "And call me Fury," he said through the cigar, "Nick if you must."

We both stood there for a moment, neither of us saying a word, Fury
savoring his cigar, me just admiring the view.

"So, Fury," I said finally, turning to him, "S.H.I.E.L.D. have anything on those rains we had last week?"

He chuckled a bit, looking at me with his one good eye.

"Damn, kid, you're already a lot like him.  Can't even take the day off."

I laughed a bit myself.

"Pay's the bills."

He just grunted to that and turned his look back out.

"Well, far as we can tell, was just a freak weather pattern."

"Nothing to do with the anniversary of Onslaught?"

Fury laughed again.

"You writing for tabloids now, son?"

A ring form Fury's waist caused out conversation to pause.

"'Scuse me," he said as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and stepped off the porch.

I stood there and watched him for a moment, slightly taken aback by the fact I had just spoken with THE Nicholas Fury.

"WHAT?!?" he shouted into the phone, startling me.  He lowered his voice after his eye darted and looked at me a moment, but I still listened in, my reporter's sense kicking in big time.

"You're sure? . . . Forget the IDs, are you sure? . . . All of them? . . . Damn . . . I'll be damned . . . Yeah, be there in a few . . ."

He hung up and I straightened up, turning my gaze elsewhere.  Fury stepped back onto the porch and stopped at the doorway to the house.  he pulled the cigar from his mouth and stared at it for a moment.

"You want a scoop?"  My eyes widened at that.  What's this?  An "anonymous" tip?  "Avengers Mansion, ASAP."

And he stepped inside.

Hot damn!

"Fury gave you the scoop?"

Max was dumbstruck.  I guess I still was a bit, too.  Nicholas Fury, the Man at S.H.I.E.L.D., supplied me a story, a leak if you want.

"Well," I said as I pulled the steering wheel to get the car around a corner faster than it should have gone, "all he said was to get to the Avengers Mansion.  Not too much of a scoop."

"That's a scoop," said Max as he fiddled with his camera in his lap.

While driving I reached up with one hand and loosened my tie and unbuttoned the top of the shirt.  I really hated having to leave the family like this.  I mean, it was Pop's wake, he was just buried no more than a couple hours ago, and here I was on the go again.

"You sure J.J. will take this story?" I asked as I slammed on the breaks for a red light.

"Jeez," said Max as one of his arms shot up and supported him on the dash from my sudden stop.  "Hey, if we can beat the rest of the groups to the punch and you can get a killer story out of it, Jameson's got a spot on front page just waiting for us, man."

Green light meant 0-60 in a few seconds.  I wanted this story.  I wanted it so bad I was tasting it.  If there's something going on at Avengers Mansion, it had to be big.  Fury wouldn't have told me if it involved S.H.I.E.L.D. only.  That's some top secret stuff.  No, something in that man's eye told me there was more to it that S.H.I.E.L.D.

Were they back?

I looked at my watch with a yawn.  Hour four of our stakeout of Avengers Mansion.  Nothing.

"Damn it," said Max with a yawn of his own.  "You sure Fury wasn't pulling your leg?"

"Why would he?"

No reply.

"Wake me when it's morning, man," said Max as he let his seat recline.  "God knows nothin's happening tonight."

I just kept a stare at Avengers Mansion.  Lights were on throughout the place.  All of them to be exact.  But that was a security measure S.H.I.E.L.D. used in the place, no dark places for intruders to hide.  Not that there'd be any intruders.  if someone happened to get past the 15 foot iron fence surrounding the place they'd have to get past the countless S.H.I.E.L.D. grunts wandering around the place.

My eyelids drooped a bit as my head did the same.  Its sudden drop caused me to snap back upright, almost giving me whiplash.  What did Fury want me out here for?

Wait a minute.

"Hey, Max," I said as I nudged him.

"Christ, Josh, let me sleep."

"Hey, if you wanna miss this, fine with me."

I opened my car door and got out as Max sat up and looked toward the mansion.

"Christ!"

"Jesus H. Joseph!  Hold the phone and stop the presses, folks!  We've got a hot one here!"

I had my head hung as Max just rolled his around while we sat in J. Jonah Jameson's office, listening to him lecture us.

"What kind of story is that?" he shouted, pressing his finger on the print out on his desk.  "S.H.I.E.L.D. mysteriously packs up and leaves Avengers Mansion and you expect me to buy this . . . this crap off of you?  What about Tony Stark arriving in New York yesterday?  Who covered that?"

"What other paper's got the S.H.I.E.L.D. story?" asked Max, staring at the ceiling.

"What other paper would want it?" replied Jameson, twisting the knife he had stuck in me.  "Josh," he said, causing me to look up at him.  "Follow up on that Spidey story you wrote.  Find out what the crook's doing now after saving that beast.  Give me something tangible.  Not this . . . this . . . crap!"

"What the hell?" I said as Max and I left Jameson's office.

"Ah, that's J.J. for ya."   Max fished into his pockets and stopped by a soda machine as we walked down the hall.

"Max, Josh!"

Max and I turned to see Joe "Robbie" Robertson walking toward us.  Robbie's a good man, the brains and good side of the Bugle.  As editor-in-chief he kept Jameson in check, most of the time.

"Hey, Robbie," said Max as he popped open his soda.

"Max, we got reports of something going down at the Brooklyn Heights Costume Shop.  I want photos."

"A costume shop, Robbie?" Max whined, figuring another hold up or something.

"Rumor's got it that a certain man once thought dead might be there."  Max and I gave each other confused looks.  "A possible 'dead' Avenger."

Max's eyes grew wide.

"I'm on it!" said Max as he started down the hall.

"Hey," I shouted after him, "wait for . . ."

"Actually, Josh," said Robbie, resting a hand on my shoulder, "I was wondering if you'd like to cover another story for us."

"Robbie, no offense," I said, "but I'm still freelance.  I need the story that makes me the more money, you know that.  Time's a wastin'."

"The Avengers might be back."

"Yeah, I know," I said, shuffling a bit, trying to go after Max.  "That's why I want this story."

"Josh, we've got a staff writer already in Brooklyn.  I need someone at the Mansion."

"Jeez, Robbie," I said, hanging my head, "didn't you just hear Jameson . . ."

"Yeah, Josh, but you're onto something.  The S.H.I.E.L.D. thing.  Why would they up and leave in such a hurry . . ."

"Unless . . ." I said, looking into Robbie's eyes.  He knew it.  he felt what I was feeling, that thing in my gut telling me this was a good lead, a great lead.

They had to be back.

With a slam of my breaks and a slight swerve I barely missed a guy running, but ended up getting rear ended pretty bad.  That was a legal worry for later.  I wasn't too concerned whit the car, just more concerned with the huge craft that suddenly sat in the middle of the street right next to Avengers Mansion.

Then I saw who I presumed to be the owners of the craft come running around the building.  If I remembered the photos in the papers correctly, they were members of the Zodiac, some two-bit villain group.  But, if they were running, who was chasing them?

Then I saw.  And, as if to answer my question, a great call came from the pursuers.

"AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!"

I stood wide eyed and jaw dropped.  This was it!  This was the story of the decade!

They were back!

The events in this issue come from Marvel Volume One titles and issues Avengers #403, Captain America #455, and Iron Man #334.

Thanks to Justin Blum, Nick Pinchuk, Josh Corum, Sam Everett, and other's I've missed who have written to me about MV1 Saga #1.  Hope you all liked this one.

I want to take this time to thoroughly thank the one guy responsible for getting me into MV1 in the first place, Mark Bousquet.  A few months back I stumbled across MV1 looking for a fanfic site that did regular series.  Boy, did I find what I was looking for.  I had ideas I wanted to use, storylines and what not that seemed to fit under the Tapestry branch.  So, I e-mailed Mark and asked him what he thought.  Well, making a long story short, Mark and I tried to make the ideas work, but they just
weren't going.  But, in the process, Mark got me on the MV1Talk list and even gave me a word of support when I offered as a fill-in if ever needed on titles.  My initial experiences with MV1 through Mark made me feel as if I belonged, even though I was new to the group and fanfic overall.  Without Mark, this issue wouldn't be here because I wouldn't be here.  For all that, I want to say thanks.  I hope I don't let him down.

Jason Kenney
3.24.99