by Joel Burdick
“I don't care if the cops have the gods-be-damned bastards. They hurt you, and they're intolerant ignoramuses! I should gut them and hang them for all the rotten sons of rats to see and fear!” he yelled, gesticulating wildly. He stopped, listening to the person on the other end for a long time. Denise walked into the room and sat on the bed. Anansi stopped pacing and sat beside her on the bed, his free hand clenching into a fist and releasing. The veins stood out on the back of his hand and his temple.
Denise rested her head on Anansi's shoulder, placing her hands over his and entwining her fingers into his while Anansi continued to listen to the voice on the other end. He finally sighed and nodded.
“You're right, Lil. They're caught, and that's good enough for now. Good job today, leettle seester. I'll see you next week when I come home for a visit.” He paused again, listening. “Love you too, twerp.” He smirked and hung up, flopping back onto the bed and sending the phone flying towards the pillows.
“Trouble?” Denise said, scooting further onto the bed as she traced an idle circle across Anansi's stomach, making his abdominal muscles twitch involuntarily. Anansi squirmed.
“One of my little sisters. Got a little beat up today. She fought because some guys were beating up some other guy while people stood and watched.” Anansi sighed and shook his head. “Makes me wonder if humanity is even worth saving, there's so many worthless sots out there.”
Denise laughed and flopped down atop Anansi, her head on his chest. She reached up and tweaked his nose. “And if you choose to abandon humanity, where will you go?”
Anansi raised his hand towards the ceiling of the tiny apartment bedroom, like he was trying to grasp the sky. “I will invade the moon! Enslave the tiny moon pygmies, and then launch endless waves of them at the Earth until it is covered with death and cheese!” He laughed, shook his head, and closed his eyes.
“Sorry, I'm being melodramatic.” He placed a hand in her hair and began twirling a finger through it.
“It's fine. Did you know your little sister was Blink?”
Anansi stiffened, his hand stopped moving. “How did you know?”
“You just told the same story that was on Supers Network, without the worthless police announcement after. It's not hard to put the pieces together.” Denise patted his hand and rolled so that she faced him. “Don't worry, your villain cred and her secret are safe with me.”
“Good. I would hate to have to let my older sister kill you.” Anansi resumed his petting.
“Aww, you wouldn't do it yourself?” Denise teased.
“Nah. She's more evil. She once made three armed hitmen piss themselves with a glare. While holding a rubber chicken.”
“You're full of it.”
“I swear on everything holy and unholy, and maybe a few things else.”
“Swear it on something you actually care about,” Denise retorted, tweaking Anansi's nose again. Anansi grabbed her wrist and pulled it to his lips to kiss the back of her hand.
“Fine. I swear by your boobs, my older sister is the scariest person on the planet, and one time she scared the piss out of hitmen trying to kill her while holding a rubber chicken.” Denise rolled her eyes and twisted, breaking free of Anansi's hold and coming up straddling him.
“You would swear by my boobs, sexist bastard,” Denise said playfully. She cupped her breasts. “You don't think they're too small?”
“You can make them any size that you want, goof. They are neither too small nor too big, as they are all sizes!” Anansi reached up and grabbed her by the collar with one finger, pulling her down so that he could kiss her. She embraced him and melted into the kiss.
Anansi broke the kiss first, breathing heavily. “I had something to ask you,” he said as Denise moved down to nuzzle his neck. She murmured inquisitively against his skin. “Do you want to come with me to my family's Thanksgiving dinner?” She nipped at his neck. “I mean, you don't have to if you don't, ah, want to, but I think you w-would enjoy yourself and-” Denise silenced him with a kiss.
Denise broke the kiss, smiling down at Anansi. “I would love to have Thanksgiving with your family.”
-~-~-
November 28, 2013
Anansi and Denise walked up the driveway of the old fashioned ranch-style home which proudly proclaimed “Clan Redpath” where it met the street. The two story blue and yellow house overlooked the Pacific Ocean and had a private beach carved from the cliffs of California. Denise had asked how much it had cost, and Anansi had responded with “a whole hell of a lot.”
Denise wore an orange blouse with black jeans and had tied her hair back in a braid, while Anansi wore a brown collared shirt and green slacks. Denise leaned into Anansi as they walked, enjoying the smell of him mingling with the sea salt air and the scent of dinner being cooked inside. Denise could hear the sound of music mingling with the sound of the waves crashing nearby.
Anansi opened the door to the house and a lanky teenage girl with blond hair and wearing a shirt that proclaimed “Brains, nomnomnom” in red letters came squealing down the stairs from the second floor, screaming “Jakey!” A boy of maybe six chased after her, a red cape streaming behind him. A popping noise came from behind them and another lanky teenage girl, this one with brown hair, appeared and launched herself at Anansi. Anansi pushed Denise away, falling under the weight of his sisters. “Save yourself!” he cried dramatically as the young boy jumped on him as well. “They're savages, come to eat my soul!”
Denise watched with amusement as the four wrestled on the floor, staying carefully out of the way and glad she hadn't been dragged into this family ritual. After a minute, Anansi had both of the young women and the boy pinned by various body parts. All of them panted and giggled. “Truce?” Anansi said, drawing a nod from the two teenagers.
The boy squirmed. “Unka Jake! I'mma gechoo!” he exclaimed as he failed to get free. Anansi laughed and worked his way free from his sisters. “You already got me, you little monster!” Anansi stood, the boy still clinging to his leg, and shuffled back over to Denise, which was when she noticed that conversation had mostly stopped and the entryway was now crowded with men and women, all of whom bore striking resemblances to Anansi.
“Outsider,” they said in a unified monotone drone, to include the two girls who had wrestled Anansi. “We must assimilate. Resistance is futile.” Their eyes had taken on a dead sheen to them, and they raised their hands in unison, grasping at Denise. Denise took a step back, dropping into a fighting stance.
“You'll never take me alive!” she announced, grabbing Anansi to use as a human shield. “Kill me and the turkey gets it!” Anansi flailed his arms, a look of horror on his face, and the boy on his leg giggled with glee.
“Use the boy as a shield instead! I'm too pretty to die!” Anansi wailed dramatically.
“Who said the turkey gets it?” came a voice from the kitchen. An older woman wearing an apron appeared, a towel in hand as she cleaned her hands. She was blond and blue eyed, spectacles on her nose and a smile on her face.
All of the Redpath children, Anansi and the boy included, pointed at Denise. “She did it!” Denise punched Anansi in the kidney, drawing a round of laughter from his siblings. Anansi wrapped an arm around Denise's waist and pulled her close.
A redheaded woman with Anansi's eyes crossed her arms, flanked by two blond men over six feet tall, one almost frail looking, the other muscular. “And who have we here, leetle brother, that you have brought us?” A third Redpath brother, brown hair like Anansi's and glasses leaned against the door. Denise wasn't sure when he had arrived there, but he was looking at her like he knew her.
“Ladies, gentlemen, munchkins of all sizes,” Anansi said, looking down to the kid on his leg, who giggled. “I present my girlfriend, known as Ghost or Andrea, whichever you prefer.”
“No aliases in this house, Jacob,” called the woman in the apron as she walked into the entryway. Redpaths parted for her to make her way through.
�
��You can call me Andy,” Denise said, offering her hand. The brunette shook her head and pointed to the lanky blond man.
“He's Andy. You can be Gee.” She started pointing, naming off her siblings. “I'm Lily, this is Daisy, then Andy, Ed, Tom, Jake, and finally, Rose.”
“And you can call me Mom. Ms. Redpath or Carol if you aren't comfortable with that.” Ms. Redpath took Denise's hand and shook it. “It's nice to see Jake bringing home lovely ladies. It's been quite a while.”
Denise boggled, trying to remember faces with names. She shook Ms. Redpath's hand. “Ms. Redpath will do. Quite the family you have here.”
“Oh, this is just my horde. My sister and her husband, along with my parents, will be by later. There are many Redpaths, and this is just our chapter.” Ms. Redpath nodded towards the end of the hallway where she had come from. “Dinner is almost ready, but won't be served for another hour or so. Come into my domain so that I can give you the motherly interrogation.”
Denise looked back to Anansi, who shrugged. “Mom makes the calls here. I'll be in the entertainment room when she's done.” He turned to the muscular Redpath brother. “Ready for a whooping, Tom?”
Tom smiled. He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled them up, baring tattoos that traveled all the way to his wrists. “Only whooping anyone is getting here is you. No powers, no cheating.” The other two Redpath brothers smiled, rolling their sleeves up as well. Rose rolled her eyes and walked towards the kitchen with Ms. Redpath.
“Come on, Gee. The testosterone in here is getting stifling.” Denise, Rose, and Ms. Redpath went into the kitchen, which was larger than Denise's apartment and filled with food. Ms. Redpath began busying herself with a salad, passing Rose a cutting board and a few vegetables. Denise took position by the sink and began handing vegetables to Ms. Redpath from a bowl.
“How did you two meet, Andrea?”
“Internet. We met because Kay posted a dating profile for him. She says Lily put her up to it.”
“That sounds like Lily,” Rose said. She was quick with the knife, Denise noticed, and held it like a knife fighter as opposed to a cook.
“Once the initial confusion had been gotten through, we hit it off. It hasn't been entirely smooth sailing, but it's been fun.”
“You know he's not always on the right side of the law?” Rose said. She continued to cut the vegetables, but her eyes were on Denise.
“Neither am I. Wasn't this supposed to be a mother interrogation?”
“I count. My son is the little monster that was clinging to Jake's leg.” Denise nodded, looking back to Ms. Redpath. She was humming quietly, completely lacking the intensity that Rose radiated.
“I talk with him a lot,” said Ms. Redpath as she scooped the vegetables from Rose's cutting board and put them into the salad, mixing it with a pair of wooden utensils. “You've been good for him. Treat him right. He doesn't talk about his problems and doesn't ask for help, but that doesn't mean he won't need it. It's something he inherited from his father.” Denise moved out of Rose's way as she moved to the sink to wash the knife.
“Is Mr. Redpath going to be with us for dinner?”
“Redpath is my maiden name, dear. Their father is no longer with us.” Ms. Redpath's smile disappeared momentarily, returning with a slightly forced quality.
“We don't talk about him,” Rose said, her tone cold. She placed the now clean knife into the knife rack with more force than was necessary. Denise nodded and decided it was time to find Anansi again.
Chapter 10
February 25, 2014
“You're plotting again. I can hear the gears in your head spinning.” Anansi felt her hands on his shoulders, kneading his muscles. He looked up from his desk, and minimized the diagram he had been making notes on in a holographic display. The woman behind him was tall and lithe, her eyes like coals and her skin like chocolate. She wore nothing but a collared shirt and underwear, and the way it showed her numerous tattoos, black motifs of death all over her legs and arms, always made him wonder about tattoos of his own, but he was never sure what he would get if he got one. He smiled up at her and shrugged, spinning his chair around to face her, diagram momentarily forgotten. She called herself Ghost, though she was a shapeshifter, not a phase shifter or able to become invisible. He had suggested an alternate, more appropriate, name for her power set, but she had smiled and told him no. That had been that.
“Evil plots, as is befitting the master of traps and tricks,” Anansi responded, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. She placed an arm over his shoulder and kissed him on the forehead. She laughed and it sent warmth through Anansi.
“You're insane, you know that?” she said, humor in her voice to add playfulness to the insult.
“Says the woman who is dating a self-professed mad scientist, evil genius, supervillain.” Anansi brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed it. He loved the feel of her against him, the taste of her. It was intoxicating.
“What is the plan?” she asked, playing with his hair. It was hard to think about trying to rule the world with her right there. Why fix it all when everything was perfect for him in the here and now? That was a selfish thought, though. So many people in the world were suffering under the heel of criminally negligent governments, and if he wouldn't step up to correct it, then who would?
“There's a speech next week in Airy City. Lowe is trying to garner support for that bill that would essentially make us criminals for being different. The President will be with him. I'm going to take them both out.”
Her fingers froze, muscles instantly tense. Ghost looked down at him, trying to determine if he was serious or not. Anansi nodded. Ghost whistled, leaning back as if to reinspect Anansi.
“You think that's a good idea? Archangel and a few of the Secret Service supers will be there to stop anything from happening. You don't have a chance.”
“That's where you're wrong. Kay and I have been running the numbers. We think we have a chance. We will need you for this, though.”
“Me?” Ghost looked surprised. She had been on a couple of heists with Anansi before, but nothing this serious. He was a bit of a loner when it came to his activities, and if he wanted her with, it meant that things could get complicated.
“Yeah. I need you to pose as a security guard and make sure that I can get in the back, somewhere behind the scenes, to set up. Can you do that for me?” He smiled. It was crooked, full of personality. Ghost smiled back, nervousness in her eyes, but her expression was confident.
“I can do that.”
“Can you?” Anansi responded, a teasing tone in his voice. He prodded the center of her chest with his index finger. His face was drawn and serious, but playfulness glittered in his eyes. “This is serious villain work. If we screw up, I can't crown you Queen of the Subjugated Peoples of America, and will have to sacrifice you to dark gods and demons for more power to do it myself.” He reached out through his neural link, causing the holographic terminal beside him to play a video clip of lightning and thunder in the sky.
Ghost laughed and leaned down to kiss Anansi. Seconds later they broke apart, heat rising between them as they rested their foreheads against each other. “I can play my part, if you can play yours.”
“Deal.”
-~-~-
March 2, 2014
“That's right, Anansi is planning to assassinate the president, Senator Wilson, and Congressman Lowe at the rally day after tomorrow.” Denise leaned against the wall, her forehead against her arm, the encrypted phone pressed to her ear. She had looked through Anansi's plan, memorizing every detail she could, but she didn't have a photographic memory and if she took pictures of the plan, the AI would notice and tell Anansi. She had to make do with what he remembered.
At first, the assignment to get near Anansi had been unbearable. The man was arrogant, egotistical, and always talked about whatever he was researching or experimenting as if everyone in the room understood exactly what
he was talking about when he was talking about neuroscience or chemistry or advanced superhuman mechanics. If she asked him to use layman's terms for her, he would start stuttering as he tried to explain, and she would still not understand what he was talking about. When he wasn't talking about something scientific, he was talking about politics, raving about the corruption of man and the uselessness of the common man. Maybe he was a genius, but he didn't relate well to anyone.
That wasn't entirely true. He related to his family. He was the second oldest of seven, and they talked frequently. It was the only conversations that she understood, and then only barely. References to comics, movies, internet memes, and games permeated their conversations.
Things had gotten easier after Thanksgiving. She had started to understand what he talked about, at least as far as games. They had eaten, played games and music, and watched movies into the small hours of the night. When he finally laid down to go to bed that night, he had told Denise his master plan.
Take over the world. Fix it so that people would be equal.
He admitted it wasn't much of a plan, but as far as goals were concerned, it was what he wanted. A world where intolerance didn’t exist, where people could be happy. Where nobody starved to death, beat their children, or hated people because they were different.
The assignment stopped being a pain. What had started as posing as a girlfriend to a shut in, geeky, elitist madman had turned into affection, and with that door opened, it stopped being an act when she held his hand, when they kissed.
And that made this all the more difficult.