1963-11-03 - Marvel Team-Up No. 2
Summary: Spider-Man gets a glimpse into a day in the life of the Fantastic Four, and maybe — just maybe — gets a little more than he bargained for in the process.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
peter reed sue johnny ben 

Wednesday night is the closest time that someone like Spider-Man might call a day off. It's the time of the week when there are the least number of tourists in the great city, so there's a smidge less crime, and not quite as much activity in the comings and goings of those choosing to make the great city their home. It's a time that he takes to get what he can squared away. Sometimes it's homework, sometimes it's helping Aunt May, sometimes it's something else…

Such as making use of the laboratory facilities in the Baxter Building to help him replenish his webbing supplies. Just as it is tonight. For now he's leaning over a microscope, casually adjusting it with the turn of two fingertips on the knob. Hard to get a good eyeball on the results considering the lens of his mask obscuring it, but still. Needs must.

"Hey, think this last batch we got a .02 percent increase in tensile strength. Wonder why that is."


Lingering not far away, Sue uses a pipet to measure one fluid and add it to one of her active samples. The chemistry of cellular regeneration — on her beloved mushrooms — bears with it a lot of questions.

With her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, Sue Storm's lips twist to the side indecisively at the remark. "Could be the precision of the lab," she observes to her pipet. "It's not a substantial difference, but it's enough that it could be explained by the resources themselves, which do make a difference. I've worked in very different labs, but this one is by far the best," she finally looks up from her work and issues Spidey a grin, even if he's not looking.

"I'm glad that you can use some of our resources. We actually do like to share."



Leaning against the wall next to the labratory door, Johnny Storm just works on sucking up the soda he got with his long-since-devoured fast food lunch. He's still catching up on meals and sleep after the last few weeks, and that is why he is not, presently, doing anything more involved than watching the science types do science things.

Johnny already saved the world this week. This is his night off.



Reed is… on the phone. And working on something noone else likely understands. ther's a whole wall-sized chalkboard full of five- and six-dimensional math, near as anyone can decipher. The Egghead-in-chief himself is sitting on a stool where the phone's cord has teathered him, with a long, stretched arm doing the writing on the wall. And just who is Reed talking to that fails to be nearly engaging enough to occupy his full attention?

"Yes, General. I am serious. It's a simple modification, entirely temporary. The rocket is going up anyway— I just want to attach a small additional payload and make a modification to the flight trajectory… of course I'm serious!" A pause, during which he attempts to catch Sue's gaze with a telling eyeroll. "Sir Issac's Ghost, I can't believe you would even ask me that. …mmmhmmm. Of course. Yes. I'll be there tomorrow, thank you."


At times, when Spider-Man wants to tempt madness, he'll glance over at the equations that Reed has put together and it's almost like trying to find a pattern in the static of a television without an antenna. He cocks his head to the side and then looks like he's about to ask Sue if Reed's being serious or if he's pranking the U.S. military. Since well… could work either way.

Of course, however, that's the moment when what systems Reed might have been using to monitor the cosmos… might well pick up something entirely out of the ordinary. A radio frequency reserved for the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics begins squawking an alarm. Usually that frequency is utterly without activity, only now suddenly there's the rush of busy voices, frantic even and what's more there's the voice of a woman as well.

And as for Spidey… for some reason he suddenly looks up as a distant jangle causes his spider-sense to wail. He looks to the side, head perking up like a golden retriever as he frowns behind the mask. "Uh, guys…" He'll begin helpfully.


Sue doesn't miss Reed's eyeroll, and actually responds with a comical somewhat fond grin. Her arms cross over her chest as she considers remarking on the wonder of the U.S. Military and their lack of understanding about science things (TM). But just as Sue's lips part to speak, the alarm calls her attention. Her hands drop to her sides and she's trailing to the piece of tech in to the side of the room. Her expression takes on a pinched quality.

She doesn't speak Russian, and can't wholly understand the first recitation of the distress signal, but in seconds its being emitted in several other slavic languages. While the words may not be known by those in the room, the tone is unmissable. Undoubtedly, someone is panicked.


*slrrrr—rrp?* Johnny does not speak a word of Russian, but like the others, he does speak Panic. He peers towards the comm with immediate concern on his face, abandoning his post near the door and dropping whatever is left of his drink into the closest trash recepticle.

He pauses, though, when he sees the way Spider-Man is holding his head. They may have only seen one another in action the one time, but Johnny knows that probably isn't a response to the comm chatter. "Spidey? You okay, buddy?"


The radio chatter gets Reed's attention. There isn't anything scheduled for the Russians for a few days, as far as he knows. That's not pleasant math to add up. "General?" he asks into the phone. "Are you listening in on the Soviet space frequency?"

He falls quiet, listening. "I see. Mmmhmm. You're serious. Is Kennedy going to authorize that? Well you realize it's just going to" Reed develops an unusually impatient frown. "Well I suppose you can tell him we're dealing with it, then… *yes* I mean the Four. What else would I" thin frown.

"Well, too late, you already said yes," Reed snips, and hangs up the phone, a little too firmly. "…I need my own rocket," he grumps in conclusion.


No, Peter can't understand Russian either, but the language of panic is definitely something universal. The tone, the rapid-fire pace, the inherent fear all combines to definitely give the impression that these people are suddenly under immense pressure.

"Reed, could you…" He steps forward to the radio array and quickly considers the details of its settings, then looks upwards and tilts his head to the side. "Is that aimed at…" A pause and then he tries to ask, "What frequency is…" But instead he cuts to the chase.

"My spider-sense is freaking out guys, and normally that doesn't happen unless I'm in immediate danger so I think whatever is happening with the Russians…" He lets them finish his sentence for him as he suddenly rushes to the window.


Once the group took a look out the window, the reason for the freaking-out spider-sense — as well as, presumably, the panicking Russian voices on the radio — became quickly apparent. A contrail high in the sky, trailing smoke and flame, plummeting directly towards Midtown.

Well that's not good.

"I'll get Ben," Johnny says crisply before he's out the lab like a shot, loudly shouting for the ever-loving blue-eyed Thing to meet them in the hangar.


Who should already be in the hanger, getting everything prepared? None other than the massive rock-covered Thing that was just called to said hanger. "What took ya so long?" He calls out as he's preparing the vehicle for take off. "We ain't got all day! Just tell me where we're goin' and I'm ready to blast off!"

Yes, the Thing occasionally knows when to be prepared. Or maybe he's always prepared. After all, he's practically the Boy Scout of the group. At least in some ways.


Is Reed curious how Ben knew to be here already? Nope, it's irrelevant. Also someone needs to know what they heck they're doing once they pile in, and that's Reed's job. "Johnny, the Fantasticar doesn't have the power or altitude on it's own, and we don't own a rocket." Thin frown. Got to build their own rocket. This keeps coming up.

"We'll have to impprovise— you're being appointed our booster. Sue will keep the wind off us, Ben— this is going to be a terrible flight, you're the best pilot I know. Let's get going." Once everyone's in, he looks at Spider-Man. "I believe I've heard you're abnormally strong for your size."


Spider-Man's only a split second behind Johnny as he bounces off of the walls in the hallway and ricochets into the hangar. He flips into the air and lands in one of the back seats of the Fantasticar even as he looks around for a seat belt of some sort… he answers Reed. "Yeah." No time for false modesty, "I'm no Benji Grimm. But I can hold my own."

He places his hands flat on the surface of the flying car and gets set for lift off. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Intercept, rescue, then hopefully get it angled into the river?"


Don't worry, Spidey — there are, indeed, safety restraints in the Fantasticar.

Johnny is already moving to stand behind the vehicle before Reed's finished talking, bouncing anxiously on his toes as their roles are doled out. Human Booster Rocket — got it, no problem, he can do that! But rather than wait around, he just offers a crisp "Meet you outside!" and goes sprinting for the open sky. With a sharp "FLAME ON!" as he leaps, Johnny erupts into flame and goes zipping up into the sky.

By the time the Fantasticar is in the open air, a giant 4 encased in a circle has been written in flame across the sky.


"Terrible flights I can do. Don't worry about that, I'll keep us up, if I have to use every trick in and out of the book." Ben calls, turning on the last piece of the puzzle to get the thing flying. With a quick glance behind him at Reed and Spider-Man, he shrugs and says, "Hold on for a bumpy ride, kids." And with a jolt, their off! The door to the hanger closing behind them as they zoom into the open sky.


Reed settles in and leaves Sue to focus on keeping a psionic force-bubble up as a windscreen. It's going to be really necessary in a minute when Johnny loops back around.

"Correct," he affirms to their temporary Fifth. "Johnny boosts us up, Ben keeps us flying straight. We get you across, you pry open the access hatch and get the cosmonaut out. Jump free, I catch you, Johnny shoves the capsule into the river."

A pause. "If you can keep the hatch attached somehow, that would be ideal. Otherwise it's falling debris." But still an improvement on a crashing capsule.


"Right. Roger. Affirmative." Spider-Man perches on his seat and somehow seems much more comfortable locked into place with that seatbelt but also with his feet flat on the seat and his hands reached out to brace him against the edge of the cupola. Sure it might look precarious, but with the combination of his super strength and super stickiness (ew) he can hang on to just about anything when braced like this.

Then suddenly the car rockets up and off and into the sky, causing him to rock back but maintain his posture as he calls out. "Just gimme the high sign!" He means when they're as close as they can be to the hurtling and flaming capsule that's rushing down from the heavens. "If I don't make it back, someone feed my pet goldfish."


The Fantasticar may look like a flying bathtub, but it can go pretty fast.

But it is nothing compared to how fast it can go once the Human Torch has planted a shoulder against the aft panel, grabs on tight, and — as he was instructed to do — begins to push. Ben knows the plan, so Johnny doesn't make the acceleration as gradual as Spider-Man might have expected.


"You know," Ben calls back, "As someone who was in the air force, I feel obliged to tell you, you only need to say 'roger' or 'affirmative'. Saying both is just redunant and takes up time that can usually be put to good use elsewhere." He glances, a them, an amused glint in his eye.

Once he feels the boost given by Johnny, it's full on serious mode for Ben. He focuses on the path ahead, gearing straight toward the falling capsul. The ride gets bumpy, especially the closer they get to the capsul, but so far he does a good job at keeping them steady.


Reed leans against the side of the Fantasticar's (usually) open air cockpit, watching the range close. "There's going to be considerable wind when you clear the forcefeild," Reed reminds Spidey, and lifts a hand in preparation for calling the go.

"Ready…" Reed drops it out, does the woefully intuition-based judgement-call calculations, and drops his arm when it looks as good as it'll get. "Go!"


Sue has arrived.


Nervously, Spidey glances at the Thing as the rocky fellow guides the ship through the acrobatics needed to get it up in the air under such amazing speed, then set in a course beside the falling Soviet capsule. "Copy that."

But as the ship draws closer and closer, small bits of debris begin to break off the sides of the falling space vehicle. Ducking an errant heat plate, Spider-Man crawls out forward onto the wing of the ship. On all fours he gauges the distance, "Ready…" He echoes Reed's words and then on the call he /leaps/.

For a time he seems to float in the air, suspended in time. But then reality snaps back with a vengeance and almost in a rush he falls and _hits_ the side of the capsule, almost immediately starting to skid off of it until he's pushed right off of the vehicle's superstructure…

But then there's a /THWIP!/ that's lost in the roar of the rushing wind and the growl of the flames. Just a bare splat of a webline that gives him enough purchase to yank himself back onto the back end of that capsule and pull himself forwards.

He probably says something, though it's lost in the noise of the moment. He crawls forwards steadily, a heat sink cracking off the ship and flashing through the air just past his shoulder as he ducks low. For a moment he grimaces behind his mask, holding up a hand covered in some sort of goo, something melted on the outside of the capsule. Yet he pays it no mind as he crawls towards the cockpit.

The capsule continues to fall towards the earth, hurtling… slowly twisting to the side. The hatch is pulled away powerfully as Spider-Man hurls it aside. Inside he reaches for the cosmonaut, his voice heard inside though she probably can't understand him.

"C'mon, I got you!"


Catching up to the free-falling capsule is honestly pretty straight-forward, from where the Human Torch is sitting. All he has to do is fly really fast and trust Ben to keep the Fantasticar steady and pointed in the right direction. Easy enough to do!

What he has to do now? That's actually a lot harder.

The Human Torch awkwardly peers over the back of the Fantasticar so that he can keep an eye on the capsule, adjusting his speed to keep them flying — falling — racing — whatever, alongside it as steadily as he can. He trusts Sue and Ben to keep any dangerous debris out of the way.


The fantasticar warbles a bit precariously as they glide into a parallel trajectory to the capsul. "Sorry 'bout that!" He calls out. "Couldn't be avoided. Everyone still here who's supposed to still be here?" He doesn't dare turn his gaze from in the front panel or the path, for fear of causing an accident. Besides, he needs to dodge this way and that out of the way of the falling debris, making sure nobody gets hurt.


"We're fine, keep it up!" Reed calls back, keeping an eye on… everything, really, but in particular Spider-Man's progress. Which is why he's in a position to strrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch his arms to snag the tumbling hatch when it rips free. Truth to tell, he'd expected the wind sheer would be too much to keep the door from falling free.

It's also good practice for what Reed's going to have to do after he's stashed the hatch in the rearmost compartment. Which is basically the same thing but with lives hanging in the balance. No pressure or anything.


The psionic bubble protecting the front of the car remains intact thanks to the forcefield that Sue has been focusing her attention on. Except as debris begins to fall from the vehicle, she mentally pushes the pieces away from the car. But the warble of the vehicle almost puts them into one of the pieces of debris. Fortunately, the forcefield pings it away. She nods wordlessly with her focus rather honed on the task at hand. Instinctively, her hands lift to further support her forcefield efforts.


Inside the capsule, Valentina Tershkova's eyes are wide with terror. She brings her arms up and for some reason she's shrieking, screaming with an utter fear of this masked man menacing her from outside her space ship. She lifts her hands as if to shield herself from Spider-Man as her cries are lost in the roar of the wind.

"No hey, it's okay!" Spider-Man tries to convince her at first, then without a second thought he pulls off his mask and suddenly it's not just some masked vigilante there. It's Peter Parker reaching out with his hand towards her, "C'mon, we don't have much time. Please, ma'am!"

And for some reason… seeing that it's a human being, that it's not some image of terror. It's enough. Her hand finds his and his arm tenses. Suddenly his spider-sense roars its klaxon warning and there's no time left at all. He /leaps/ off the side of the capsule even as there's an explosion that bursts the sky into a bright life of heat and light. Spinning in the air hugging the cosmonaut to him as he twists in the air towards the Fantasticar…


…and the instant that Reed has a secure-looking grip on the free-falling duo, the Human Torch goes whipping through the air beneath them. The tumbling spider and cosmonaut are not his mission. What's left of the capsule is.

The Fantastic Four have worked together long enough now that Johnny knows what his job is, in a scenario like this. It's not to go chasing after all the little pieces of debris that are sprinkling down — it's to latch onto the largest one and, just as he had with the Fantasticar itself, push. In this case, there's a flash of flame as the bulk of the capsule takes a sharp turn towards the river.


Following Sue's lead in front of them, Ben adjusts the car's controls ensuring the thrust is still somewhat decent after Johnny continues on his mission. After a moment, he turns on the radio, as loud as it gets. Which is pretty loud. He needs a little music right now to ease the tension.


Reed is compltely ready to do another round of streeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetching to catch the pair of impromptu skydivers. He is NOT ready for them to be on some whackadoo trajectory because the capsule exploded without the Air Force's intervention. Dangit. He still makes the stretch, but with his body instead of just his arms. It'll give him more… err… flexibility.

"Sue! The debris!" He yells as a parting shot before everything but his legs are out of earshot.This is why he is Mister Fantastic. Or something. Of course, he doesnt' have nearly enough of himself still in the aircar to anchor, so soon his feet are also gone. Spidey can feel a pair of hands and then the really *weird* sensation of taffy-like limbs winding around him and the poor scared cosmonaut lady… and a barely audible "HOLD ON!". To what, I ask you. Come on, Reed.

That sounds a lot like a parachute. But it's not. Except it is. The pair dangle from a tangle of hastily-tied Reed-limbs, swaying gently after an initial deceleration from the extremely flat and parachute-like Dr. Richards above. The. Hell.


The heat is enough to prompt Sue to slide her hand towards the explosion to hold it back from the now tumbling Spider-man and cosmonaut. A wall of protection divides the pair tumbling from the fire that they leap from. As Johnny B. Goode blares through the radio, Sue squints, "Ben… Good," her eyebrows draw together sharply, "…music … choice.. " her teeth grit and she doesn't finish the thought.

The mention of the debris has her moving her attention again, "On it!" With the first heat of the capsule resolved enough, she hones on the trio now parachuting from the capsule to the ground. The psionic energy that extends beyond the group has a nearly spongy quality — not hard like some, but instead, intended to slow and stop any stray debris.


"See…" Spider-Man tells the cosmonaut even as he is wrapped up in the rubbery limbs of Mr. Fantastic. Their descent is arrested, slowed entirely as the wind catches in the billowy folds of Reed Richards' taffyish limbs. "Told you I had you."

There's a wince, however, in Spider-Man's words as he grimaces and shifts to the side. A piece of shrapnel sticks out of the side of his hip, a small bit of blood trickling down along its jagged curve. He grimaces but doesn't let go of the woman, though with Reed there… he can at least relax for a moment.

He takes a deep breath and then tells the cosmonaut, "Oh and hey… welcome to America." And then promptly passes out.


As the Human Torch steers the most dangerously large chunk of debris towards the river, it would appear that that isn't all he's doing. By the time he pulls up and allows it to make its final descent towards the water by itself, all of the flames on the capsule itself have gone out.

He twists around in the sky to figure out where he's wound up in relation to everyone else, and blinks twice. A Reedachute wasn't part of the plan. Johnny takes off like a shot to go check in with Reed and, apparently, his two passengers.


As Johnny B. Goode plays over the radio, Ben slightly tilts the vehicle so he can see what's going on below him. "Gosh darn it, Reed!" He sighs. "SUE! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, I'M GONNA TRY TO TAKE US BELOW THE REED-A-CHUTE AND SEE IF HE CAN LAND IN THE VEHICLE!" And with that, he starts a slow and cautious descent and maneuver below Reed, Spider-Man, and the cosmonaut.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License