AN: I sadly do not own the Fantastic Four, or any other Marvel movies/characters/plots, which sucks because if I did, I could be in the next Avengers movie. Oh well...Ok, a warning first off – The Johnny/OC part of this fanfiction does not start in this chapter. This may suck a bit, but I like to give background information and stuff first. Besides, this is going with the first movie, and he doesn't appear until at least three scenes in. He will most likely be introduced at the end of the next chapter, so please be patient! It'll hopefully be worth it :)
Chapter 1:
It was cloudy again. Yay I thought, as I pulled on my work clothes, my hair still in a towel turban from the shower. I was currently hopping around my roomy apartment whilst tugging my black skinny jeans up my legs, making my way towards the white vest top that lay thrown on the chocolate velvet sofa. 'Come on, come on!' I mumbled, my toothbrush sticking out of the side of my mouth. Although Alice, my best friend, may still be determined to call me skinny, I know I am quite a curvy person. Besides, Alice was still back in England, and she only saw me on Skype so she couldn't say much. America was so different to Britain, especially to food portions. It was all so tempting, and there was so much of it, although I've learnt to have smaller things to keep me going. The button of my jeans finally did up and I hurriedly pulled on the top, grabbing my converse and shoved my feet into them. I didn't care if I was short, I was never too keen on heels, and especially in the workplace (although I think 5'7" is pretty good for a 20 yr old). I quickly dashed into the bathroom, spitting out the toothbrush and rinsing my mouth, while blow-drying my hair. I didn't take too long, although my vibrant ginger curls were still a slightly damp as I applied a little make up to my pale blue eyes. I was trying my best not to be late today, although I never was, no matter how much I panicked. Reed is a very good friend of the family, and I strove not to let him down. I was pretty grateful that he'd given me the position as astronomer in the first place, seeing as I only did it as a hobby (the main reason almost every other facility had turned me down, as 'hobby' is not encouraging, no matter if I was considered an expert in my field) but Reed knew I was up to it. Also, the fact that this meant I didn't have to be paid was probably a bonus. This was fine with me, seeing as I already had all the money I needed in life in the bank. My father had been a very successful business man, until he sadly succumbed to his liver cancer two years ago. He'd left me everything in the will, seeing as mother died in a train accident when I was five, except for the business. That was left to another trusted friend of the family, Bill Rogers, who kept everything just as it should be and never lost more than a thousand in the stock market. This meant that I could afford to move to America from Britain permanently, as I'd always dreamed. It also meant that I could afford to indulge in a few luxuries, like a roomy apartment at the top of a stylish block of flats, and a few incredibly expensive cars in a large garage down the road. My cars were my little secret pleasure, my prized possessions, only ever removed from storage when I felt the need to go for a spin. There was also my bike that was kept at the Baxter building for the moment, seeing as it was one of my main modes of transport, other than my regular car. Like I said, my garage cars were special. There were six cars in total: an Aston Martin 6.0 litre V12 Vanquish in 'volcano red', a personal favourite; a Noble M600 in 'mid blue'; a Ferrari 485 Spider in 'Nero'; a Lotus Elise S in British racing green, another I had a soft spot for; then, there's my pride and joy, my absolute favourite car – a Bugatti Veyron EB 16.4 Sang Noir. I always got shivers when I looked at this beauty, and often spent an hour or so just looking at it, running my fingers gently along the side, before spending another 15 minutes at least just sitting in the driver's seat and admiring the shear magnificence of the machine. It was kept under a cloth at all times whilst in the garage, and I very rarely drove it. It was for special occasions only, like my birthday, or Christmas. The final car was rarely kept inthe garage, as it was used as my day-to-day vehicle. A professionally restored VW Beetle in baby blue, which I had affectionately named Eddie, on the fact that the first three characters on the number plate were 'EDI' meaning it looked like Edi, hence Eddie. On this occasion, Eddie was parked just outside the building, and I grabbed my set of keys whilst yanking on my loved black leather jacket. Once I'd walked halfway down the corridor, I spun on my heel, swearing to myself under my breath. I re-entered the flat, grabbed my wallet, mobile and soft brown backpack and flew back out the door, shutting it behind me with my foot before striding quickly back towards the lift. I shoved my phone and money into the bag, before slinging it over my shoulder as I waited. As I left the building, I waved to the window cleaner, George, as he set up his pulleys and equipment. He was a nice guy, in his late fifties maybe? Since I'd moved here, he had always been friendly to me, tipping his hat to me like I was someone important, which always made me laugh. It had been what made me go inside when I first arrived. Fresh from New Hampshire, England, this tall modern block of flats had been quite daunting. So I sort of just stood there, feeling a little foolish, holding my two suitcases and staring up. Then I noticed George, this friendly old gent who tipped his cap and smiled at me, before he began hauling himself upwards. I stared, open-mouthed thinking, if he can scale a building, I can go inside one. It seems a little silly, but it helped. I remembered this, as I clambered into Eddie, gave the steering wheel a pat, shut the door and pulled out into the road.
oOo
I'm not normally the shy and retiring type. That moment of fear two years ago was a one-off, I guess because everything and everyone was new to me. If you ever want to tell when I'm really upset, good luck with it. I usually automatically get just a little too happy, but mainly I just make a joke to cover it up and leave quickly. I'm normally a very bouncy, jokey kind of person, especially around family. I pulled up outside the Baxter building, smiling at the thought of working in the high tech lab on the top floor, just like always. As I stepped out, I breathed in the welcome scent of the donut van on the corner happily, before continuing inside, locking the car over my shoulder.
'Morning Miss Blake' greeted the doorman. I smiled at him.
'It's Robyn, Mr O'Hoolihan, always has been, and will continue to be so until I say otherwise.' I replied, giving him a jokingly stern face, before returning to a smile and continuing towards the lift. The ride up was quicker than most, which is always a little strange to experience. I strode out the doors, once it'd reached the top, confidently approaching Reed, who was sitting at his desk with his back to me. I grinned.
'Morning Uncle Reed!' I announced, causing him to jump slightly. I smirked a little in satisfaction, before dumping my bag on a chair, and shrugging off my jacket. Reed sighed.
'I'm not your Uncle, Robyn.' He replied, although I could hear the smile in his voice. I pouted, walking over to him and crouching by his chair, leaning on his arm. He glanced down at me, one eyebrow slightly raised.
'But Uncle Reed, that's what I've called you since I was ten!' I whined back at him. He sighed again, but with a definite smile. I grinned once more, standing up and looking at his notes over his shoulder.
'Yes yes, I know. Have you done your research on Victor yet? We're going to his office at 2:00pm.' Reed continued, shuffling through the papers splayed out in front of him. I bit my lip guiltily, seeing as I'd completely forgotten. Reed couldn't see this however, luckily for me.
'Yep, don't worry about it boss.' I lied smoothly, giving a small salute. 'Should I change or do you think this is okay? I mean, is it formal enough?' I asked growing slightly worried. I really didn't want to let him down, especially since Victor Von Doom could be our only chance to do this experiment, after NASA turned us down, (or should I say, kicked us out). Reed turned to me, as I took a step back for inspection, holding out my arms. He studied me for a second, before he nodded, turning back to his desk.
'That should be fine, shoes are a little casual for a meeting though.' He said, without looking up. I bit my lip again out of habit whilst I thought for a second. Then I remembered the boots I left here last week and dashed off to change. I'd left them here when I slept round for a few nights last week, and they were still sitting in my bedroom, by the near-empty wardrobe.
As I pulled on the black leather boots, (beautiful things, knee high with copper buckles around the calf, done up by a zip at the back), I glanced at my watch. 12:30pm. Okay, that didn't leave a huge amount of time to research Victor extensively, but it was enough for a quick background check. I could get basics but not details, which seemed fine, as it normally worked out for me. I guessed we'd be leaving at about one o'clock, maybe half past. So I quickly logged onto my laptop, slumped onto my bed and began searching.
oOo
AN: Hey, thanks for reading, it's always appreciated :) This chapter was originally a lot longer, so I had to cut a substantial amount off the end, which will probably mean the next chapter will be up shortly. I mean, in literally around a few hours. Please let me know if you liked this by reviewing and tell me if you think the chapters should be shorter, longer or are fine as they are. Constructive criticism welcomed, but slightly feared.