Legendary

The kittens fit nicely into our life, I had to admit. In the way of cats, they irritated Eira by not snuggling with her sufficiently, but integrated into the family seamlessly by more or less taking over. We named them Frank and Joe, after the Hardy Boys.

In early November, I turned in the first draft of my thesis to my advisor. He had a number of excellent comments about my analysis and the content, but his final one was the most upsetting when I spoke with him. "You've got to trim it down," he said flatly. "Two hundred pages is too long, even considering that there are graphics in there."

I was crushed. "But I need all those pages!" I objected. "I have a lot to say."

"Yes, I see that," he said. "But this is a thesis, not a book for publication. You need to cut out content. The focus is fine, it's nice and tight."

I agonized, and before finals, I managed to cut out twenty-five pages altogether. The other seventy-five pages I stuffed into appendices--the same content, just arranged differently, and I saved some space by not having to double-space in the appendices. I managed to work in a little of the cut out information into the extensive endnotes, as well. I sent it to my advisor on Christmas Eve and had a great holiday with my family. We took everybody down the drive to our house to show it off. It had walls inside and out. The stone cladding had been completed just before it got too cold for the mortar but there was still trim that needed to be installed and other finishing touches on the exterior. Inside, the floors were all stranded wood product, awaiting the installation of hardwoods and the wall was bare techboard, awaiting sealing between the panels and the application of the coating that would allow us to change "paint" colors with the manipulation of a circuit that ran through each panel. Additionally, it had a very low static charge, just enough to repel dust, keeping the house cleaner. None of the finish work had started, but you could definitely tell what we were going for. The library would take the longest to complete due to all the woodwork we wanted; art nouveau-like carving on handrails, fireplace mantels, and the exterior of the bookcases, inlaid floors. The ceiling had been changed to a stained glass dome in clear, textured glass as well as our preferred greens, blues, and purples; enough to differentiate the sky but not be too distracting. We were having custom crown molding made and plasterwork for ceiling roses and additional panel moldings where appropriate. And an impressive front door.

"It's ok that it will take the longest, though," Damian explained over dinner. "We need to repopulate our book collection." Predictably, Daniel offered us books from the manor's library.

"We've got boxes of books in storage," he said thoughtfully. "There hasn't been enough room, what with so many generations of Waynes depositing their own additions. Some more than others, of course. You have plenty of time to think about it, but I wanted to make the offer. Seriously, your building a house might be the best thing that's ever happened to this one; I'm hoping to free up some space by offloading some furniture and stuff. We're at about at capacity here, even with the furniture I've been able to give to our extended returned family."

"Are you looking forward to being done with your studies, Alex?" Thomas asked. I smiled.

"Oh, yeah. I want to be out working, doing, getting hands on experience. At the same time, I worry that I'm not taking full advantage of all that the school has to offer in terms of coursework."

"There'll always be more to learn," Bruce pointed out.

Damian smirked. "I dunno about that. She's practically writing a reference book rather than a thesis."

"Alex has always been a high achiever," my mom said with pride.

Then Daniel asked Damian some questions about the manufacturing process for Stark Industries' first project, the plastic-consuming organisms and the robotics to apply them, and the conversation turned to timetables for delivery. I knew that Tony was already looking for new projects, having finalized his design. He'd asked me for a meeting after Christmas, so I suspected he had something up his sleeve already.

Then the conversation broke into smaller groups, and Damian joined me talking to my parents. My mom's coffeeshop was making money hand over fist and she was looking into opening a second location at the other end of the industrial park. Wait times for customers was getting prohibitive and she didn't want to lose any. There wasn't much that could be done about the coffee end--it still took the same amount of time to brew regardless of the technology--but a second location would relieve pressure. Expansion always had its own worries, though. My dad's furniture business was going gangbusters, and we'd asked him to make a custom desk for our library, reserving our space in his queue early although we had nowhere to put it as of yet. He had some designs for us to look at and he was sourcing some exotic woods. There was a lot of reclaimed wood around from buildings that were being torn down as well as that from buildings that had been damaged or destroyed by the alien invasions. Tree plantations were still recovering from Fimbulwinter and their output was low right now. Some species had responded to a genetic enhancement to allow them to grow bigger, faster, but most of these weren't good for furniture; the growth rings were so big that there was a lot of tearout. The pine species, if given enough water during growth, were fine if you didn't care about looks and were used mainly in construction. Oak had moderate success with the manipulation, but cherry and walnut did not. Both Damian and I liked one design we immediately dubbed "The Butterfly." It was a partners desk, but each side of the desk curved, sort of like two shallow C shapes being joined in the middle. It was stunning and different, and each of us could personalize our side to a certain extent with our choice of woods and/or veneers or other inlays.

We broke off our discussion when the doorbell rang. Alfred got up to answer it, and his face had an almost concealed perturbation to it when he returned, escorting a strange man for Daniel.

"You're Daniel Wayne?" the man asked, sizing him up.

"I am."

"You're served." He shoved one of the crystal chips that allowed for holographic delivery of messages and documents and turned, leaving quickly. The crystals logged fingerprints, so that a record of who had touched it was maintained, proving service. Daniel sighed and placed in the player on his desk. To my surprise, Howard Stark's portrait appeared over the shoulder of an attorney, who read the complaint that challenged the transfer of the "Stark Industries" name and trademarks to Tony on the basis that I had leaned on Daniel to sell it to Tony based on our past sexual relationship and that Daniel had done it to please me. Damian rolled his eyes, and my communicator chirped. It was Tony, and he'd been served as well. I made soothing noises at his tirade and handed it to Daniel, who assured him that the board of Wayne had supported the decision to sell the name precisely because Howard was pursuing weapons development again and Tony was focused on improving the world. Daniel left the library to conference Tony and one of Wayne Enterprises' lead lawyers, but he viewed this more as an inconvenience than a real threat. Tony was the one who was most upset, and had the most right to be, I thought. Once again I was grateful for my own parents, who were ambitious but not willing to chuck their offspring to the wolves to obtain their goals. And not psycho, either. That benefit couldn't be overstated.

For Tony, though, this lawsuit was kind of the last straw. When his mother weighed in on her husband's side, saying that since Howard had built the company, he should have the rights to the name, he had Had Enough, saying that he was the one who had built it into a multinational empire, the biggest name in tech during his tenure, and besides, a poll conducted by some news magazine when news of the lawsuit showed that most people were familiar with Tony's larger-than-life persona and face (largely due to Iron Man and the Avengers) and were more 'Howard who?' He'd asked her why she couldn't stand up for him just once, and cut off the call. And he started a PR campaign, playing up his proven track record of good intentions and desire to benefit humanity and the planet, how he specifically shut down the weapons division, and his goals for the future. He owned up to his mistakes unflinchingly, like Ultron, and his personal popularity skyrocketed. Online, he had a lot of defenders, including those who applauded his ability to stay friends with his exes to the point of getting them to invest in his new company. Daniel had granted one interview on the subject to the leading financial news publication, in which he laid out his reasons for wanting to sell to Tony, which included his estimation that Tony Stark would be a success again and his thinking that strong competition was good for the family business. This steamrollering, plus the depositions of the Wayne board of directors where they explained in detail why they'd supported selling the name and trademarks to son rather than father, led Howard's lawyers urging him to drop the suit. Reluctantly, Howard did so. Apparently his weapons company wasn't succeeding the way he'd expected, and rather than having access to the Stark name and legacy, had to build up from the ground, branding his company HS Technologies. Tony was ready to aggressively defend his trademarks, but so far he didn't need to. More dirt was rubbed into open wounds when Tony and Ann were honored by MIT for their new technologies (patents pending) and awarded honorary doctorates. As if Tony needed more, I thought fondly. It was well publicized.

Tony and Ann had considerately scheduled their wedding for after my graduation, so I could have fun too. I was one of Tony's groomsmen and would be wearing a long black silk A line skirt and tailored jacket with a white chiffon blouse with French cuffs. To balance this out, Ann had one of her brothers as a bridesmaid; he was stuck with a light blue tuxedo. I definitely got the better end of that deal. For a wedding present, I gave them eight percent of my shares in the company, giving them them more ownership in the company that they were building. (I wanted to keep a hold of most of my shares, though--Stark Tech was going places. I also took the opportunity to transfer a further five percent of my shares to Damian, giving him more stake in the company as well.)

I successfully defended my thesis in April, after which it was all over but a few finals. Huge relief. I accepted a job offer at Architectural Conservation, a well-established city firm that was willing to put me on projects immediately. The other offer I'd received had me hanging back more, observing and learning, more like my internship. I wanted a more aggressive approach, even though my role would be small in the overall picture. Graduation was awesome. My class in the program was small and we'd developed into a tightly knit group; it was sad to part. Some of us were going overseas, one was going down to DC to work on the monuments, and the few others were scattering around the country, but we recognized that aside from our friendships, we all had different skills to draw on, different areas of interest, knowledge and expertise, and we were committed to keeping in touch. Damian held a graduation party for us after the ceremony (there's nothing better than moving the tassel across), dinner and dancing at the Waldorf Astoria. He took a few days off from work to help me celebrate, then it was back to work. I had a few more days off before I started work at my new firm.

A few days before Tony and Ann's wedding, we had what passed for a bachelor party. Mostly it was drinks while relaxing; the other groomsmen were playing an involved game on Tony's VR simulator. I took the opportunity to talk with him, just the two of us, the way we used to, and we toasted his wedding. "I couldn't be happier for you, Sparky. Ann is terrific, she's your match in so many ways."

"I got lucky there," he acknowledged with a grin, then turned his whiskey glass around in his hands. "No matter what I said at the time, Tiger, I didn't break up with you because you weren't smart enough." My eyebrows shot up. "We had a good thing, and you gave me everything you had. But you'd already given part of your heart to Wayne, for keeps. I wanted to use something you couldn't argue with to break up with you. But the real reason is that I wanted you to love me the way you love Wayne, and that just never was going to happen, even if we'd just stayed in Valhalla forever. I'm not saying that I didn't love you and you didn't love me," he said, looking at me intently. "It's just that I never had your whole heart and I was really insecure, in general, and about that specifically. I don't blame you, and I don't regret anything about the time we had together. You're magnificent. You showed me what it was to truly love and made me feel like I deserved it." He sighed. "I'd heard you coming down the path when I was talking to Banner. It was a chicken-shit thing to do, and I'm sorrier than I can articulate for that. I gave it another go during Fimbulwinter because I loved you and missed you, but nothing had fundamentally changed and I knew I needed to end things."

I took a moment to process this. I couldn't even say he was wrong to have ended it the way he did, because if he'd told me the truth, I would have argued and pleaded and drawn things out trying to change, which would have damaged our friendship. The break, as hurtful as it had been, had been better. "Ann's not you, but she's amazing too, we have a really good thing, and I'm it for her. I want what you have with Wayne--a home, a family. Kids, too."

I managed a grin, small but heartfelt. "You're well off with her," I said. "I'm surprised, but you were right. You know I want you to be happy. And I'm putting you on notice now that I expect to be a godmother whenever your first kid shows up."

He smiled too. "Deal."

I discovered that being a groomsman was much more relaxing than being a bridesmaid. I didn't have anything else to do except show up at the wedding well groomed. No fuss, no drama. I got to wear comfortable, lower-heeled pumps of my choice, and Tony didn't care what kind of blouse I wore as long as it was white. Instead of a colored cummerbund like the other groomsmen, I wore a light blue sash instead. His present to the groomsmen were cufflinks, small light blue sapphires in silver. Not too small for the men, not too large for me, and my blouse had French cuffs. I had a little corsage on my lapel instead of a bouquet to fuss with, and my role was standing in support of the groom and smiling a lot. Ann's brother the bridesmaid had a much more exciting time than I did and was envious about my outfit. "The photographs," he groaned as we were posed together for shots of the wedding party. "I'll never be able to forget it. Only for Ann."

"I like Ann a lot, but I'm just as glad to miss out on all the goings on in the bridal party," I said. "And I could conceivably wear this again." Sam burst out laughing.

"This goes right back to the rental place," he said.

I had the chance to chat with Ann for a moment. "Tony invited his parents," she said quietly. "His dad declined and I have the feeling he prevented his mom from coming." I shook my head.

"Just as well, Howard probably would have been an ass, but it's kind of a dick move to prevent his mom from coming. She should have insisted." Ann nodded, then we talked a bit about the lovely service and reception instead. She was truly a beautiful bride, her dress a warm off-white that lit up her complexion and flaming hair. They were going on a working honeymoon in the South Pacific, overseeing the last test before the organism system was available for commercial purchase.

I settled into work pretty easily. I was placed on a team that was responsible for a lot of small jobs and told that I would be given opportunities to work up to larger responsibilities. It was nice to have more time for family and my friends. Serena was entering her last semester in the fall and was working on her thesis nervously. Work on the house was coming along well; it was almost to the point where we could move in if we wanted--and didn't mind continued construction on the library and the swimming pool. There was a hold up on the tiles for the house all around, which meant that the bathrooms, kitchen backsplash, and pool couldn't be completed until they arrived. It was ok, though, our lease didn't expire until October.

Aslyn had been talking about a guy she'd met and really liked, and finally we were able to coordinate schedules so I could meet him. Damian and I met them for drinks one night after work. Niko proved to be quite tall, a good six inches taller than Aslyn, who wasn't short herself. Reddish brown hair and brown eyes, he was quite muscular, which I guess he'd need since he worked in personal security. He was friendly and had a trace of an accent. Turkish, he said, when I asked. He'd lived there for awhile during his first life and had loved it. He told us some stories and I came away really liking the man. Margaret had also met him and liked him. We did a few more things as couples, as Damian got along with him too.

So summer passed into autumn. Bucky was so determined in college and so formidably focused that he was going to graduate in three and a half years. He was going to spend a year as a zoo keeper at the Central Park zoo, getting experience, then see if he wanted to apply to vet school. I pointed out that there was on timeline he had to follow, but he felt like he'd have a better idea of whether he wanted to be a vet or not and could proceed accordingly. Serena successfully defended her thesis and Aslyn was gearing up for her graduation and studying for the bar. She'd already accepted a place in a firm on Wall Street; she wasn't going to be working as a lawyer, but she wanted the credential and the options it had.

In early December--in time for Christmas sales--the first of Colin James' books came out, the history of superheroes. I bought a copy, of course, and was relieved to find that I was on one page, and not the complete page at that. It summarized how Bucky had taught me and I'd taken over for him, followed by a few quotations from my former students, including Serena and Quicksilver, who had just rejoined the team. Wanda had not, and I couldn't help but feel that her last mission had something to do with that decision. It had for Pietro; he'd joined in order to be able to personally prevent a screw up of that magnitude. It ended with a concise account of how I got my big dirt nap.

Steve was getting ready for New York Fashion Week and the launch of his very own atelier. Fashion Week had somehow migrated to February over the years, so there was less time than usual. He was jittery and Emma cut off his caffeine. His collection was geared to the working woman, post-Return. That meant not just sleek and stylish for the more modern gal, but clothing that women from older eras could wear and not feel too immodest. That turned out to be a surprisingly large group; he riffed on the Edwardian style that had been going out of fashion when he was born and focused on ankle-length skirts and soft blouses with full or three-quarter-length sleeves. This style nodded to the past, but was sufficiently updated so that the clothes fit in on the fashion scene without looking dowdy. There were cocktail suits and dresses, and a few formal gowns, softly draped, that made his models look like goddesses. And I don't say that lightly. Within this collection was a small capsule collection for summer: a one-piece bathing suit and a bikini, cute shorts and halter top that harkened back to the '40's, and three fun and flirty dresses. The valkyries, Emma, Bucky, Damian, Loki, and Torunn scored seats at the front by the runway. Because of Steve's name, there was intense interest in his collection, but it was also his first collection, so he was given the first slot. Nine a.m. on Thursday, and he would be showing at the main branch of the public library, which was possibly my favorite building in the whole world. Emma was providing jewelry for the most important looks.

Christmas was good as usual, with the touches that I liked, like the Yule Log, along with older family traditions. Damian and I answered questions about the holdup on our house--mainly tiles again--we were going month to month on our apartment lease while tiles were slowly delivered. We were waiting on the ones for our bathroom, which would be in the final delivery. I'd worked hard and gotten my quilt done for the first anniversary of Damian and my vow renewal ceremony, which we decided would be our anniversary since it had been so special. I presented it to my husband, who was thrilled with it and when I wasn't around would wrap up in it as he sat on the couch reading or working. I mentioned that if he was that cold, he could turn up the heat. "It literally feels like I'm wrapped up in your love," he'd said bashfully, looking at me through his dark lashes. Barbara had produced her infant, a boy that they named Bruce. When I heard what they'd named him, I hurried up and knitted baby booties in black.

After Christmas, Damian and I sat down with Tony and Ann. First we toasted the success of our first product; our first sale had just occurred; Coke/PepsiCo had placed a billion-dollar order to be spread out over two years, and Wayne had started construction of the bots and culturing the organisms as soon as the ink was dry on the lucrative contracts. We enjoyed some Champagne and basked in the glow for a whole twenty minutes.

"So I'm looking into bioremediation; Fimbulwinter halted ongoing cleanup efforts of Superfund sites and funds are still tight. So by the time there's enough money, we want to have organisms for nuclear materials as well as mine waste and petroleum cleanup--it hasn't been a viable fuel for centuries, but there are still sites where there were spills, leaks, or other contamination. It's all highly weathered now, which presents its own problems," Ann said, and we discussed her goals and projections, including the investment of more capital for more work space and personnel.

Tony, to no one's surprise, had a couple of things up his sleeve. One was work on non-lethal weaponry for police and park rangers. Over the years, our national parks had become a greater national treasure than ever before and restoration of these sites to pristine conditions was huge. Congress had passed legislation allowing the rangers to detain and fine visitors for smaller offenses like littering and permitted the construction of holding facilities for those who committed more serious offenses, like defacing any aspect of the sites or luring and/or feeding the animals, which so often ended badly for the animals. All offenders were required to complete either a short or long interactive class that educated them on why they shouldn't be such dumbasses. Wayne had the contracts for the Avengers, but there wasn't anything that said we couldn't design and sell to other superhero groups and/or individuals. He also wanted to get into transportation. Specifically, hot-looking cars that would run on a proprietary energy source. I burst out laughing.

"You just want a flashy vehicle," I said. He flushed slightly.

"You can't tell me that you'd rather have your little flying pod over a car that has old-school power and can fly. And real aesthetic appeal," he defended himself, and I had to nod.

"Can we have stick shifts?" I asked, and it was his turn to laugh. Not surprisingly, the car thing, with the development of a novel energy source that could perform the way he wanted, was going to be hugely expensive. The non-lethal weaponry would be easier to devise and improve and would be profitable sooner. Damian jumped in and I listened as they talked time tables for everybody's projects, how much would need to be invested, and the stakes in terms of personnel and equipment. While they were talking, I checked my investments.

I tuned in again when I heard them talking about the site for future expansion. Ann and Tony felt that our current site would suffice for now since our first project was being offloaded to Wayne Enterprise for the production. Our two project-specific employees were going over to the manufacturing site and would continue to refine the work from there. Ann got the first publication out of it, but they could publish as they continued to make the organisms better and more efficient. Subject to our patents, of course. Tony was fiddling with his stylus in a familiar way.

"You wouldn't mind, a little way down the road, and after the first wave of interest has worn off, to sell that enterprise," I said to him. He jolted and dropped his stylus.

"It would be a way to raise capital for our next step," he said, but Ann looked a little upset. Well, it was her baby, really.

"We can get money from other sources," Damian objected. "We spin off the company into different divisions; life sciences, and... the other stuff. We don't have to sell off the whole success. If we approach Daniel, we could probably enter into a partnership with him and Wayne. They have resources for marketing that we don't have, and this is just our first sale. I saw Alex poking around, she's probably seen what she can afford to invest, which is something that I can do too. And there are business loans too; I'd rather not seek more investors at this time." We all agreed to that. After a couple more hours, we had a game plan: a multi-year development plan for both Ann and Tony's projects. Damian was practically rubbing his hands together in glee: finally his real abilities to run a growing and important business would be brought out fully with all that he needed to accomplish.

And so we entered the New Year with what seemed like a vast horizon of opportunities for all of us.