The She-Hulk Diaries

by Acosta, Marta

  The hostages scrambled out through the broken wall, some of them sobbing with relief.

  When they were gone, a look of hopelessness came over the gunman’s face. She was just fast enough to flick the gun out of his hand as he lifted it to his mouth.

  It skittered across the tile floor. He covered his face with his hands, and his knees buckled.

  Shulky caught him as he fell.

  She set him on one of the tangerine-colored benches and then sat beside him, stretching her shapely legs out front. “You can’t do that, Burt, because Bonnie needs you.”

  “Why? What can I do for her?” he said. “She was on the ReplaceMax list, next in line, and they took her off.”

  “They had to shut down the list because the organs were defective. People were dying.”

  Burt looked up and said sorrowfully, “She’s dying now. We had nothing to lose. I could have shot everyone in here, and then there would have been lots of available organs! An organ for everyone who needs one. That’s what I should have done.”

  “So you kill lives to save lives? Would Bonnie want that?”

  “What do you care, She-Hulk? Don’t you have somewhere better to be, some party with billionaires and superheroes?”

  “Billionaires are overrated, but superheroes always rock,” she said, and was happy to see a flicker of a smile. “We better go out now. You’ll be arrested and put under suicide watch. Do you have a lawyer?”

  He gave a bitter laugh.

  “It’s okay,” Shulky said. “I’ll call one of my pals to meet you at the police station. We’ll also get a social worker to make sure that Bonnie is getting good care.”

  Burt squeezed his eyes shut. “If only she’d stayed on the regular kidney list, she’d be at the top of it by now. But her doctor thought she was a great candidate for a ReplaceMax organ. He promised she’d be better than ever because the new organ was supposed to make all of her organs healthier.”

  “Project Mimic,” Shulky said. “I’ll ask that she be placed back on the regular list, prorated for the time she’s already waited.”

  “I already asked and they said no,” Burt said.

  “I think planet Earth owes me a favor or two,” Shulky said. “One last thing. Why did you bring the tour group in here? Was that always your plan?”

  “I was going to make the driver take us to the hospital.” Burt gazed around at the shop. “Then I saw the Joocey Jooce. Whenever I get a smoothie, people are always so nice, and I feel better for a few minutes. I thought that everything would be okay if I came here.”

  “Next time, play nice, Burt, and don’t take hostages.”

  She led him to the front door and said, “Get behind me,” and then shouted, “Sergeant Talvert, have your team stand down. We’re coming out.”

  She nodded back at Burt, and then kicked, sending both the entrance door and the safety gate slamming down to the pavement. The crowd beyond the barricade was silent as she escorted Burt to the sergeant.

  As Burt was cuffed and put in a police car, Shulky leaned in to gently squeeze his shoulder. “We’ll look out for Bonnie for you.” She shut the car door, and the crowd began cheering and chanting, “Shulky! Shulky! Shulky!”

  She waved to them and took Denny aside. In two more minutes, she’d made arrangements for Burt and Bonnie. She would have liked to sign autographs and pose for pictures, but I was saying, “Come oooonnn already!” so she waved good-bye then raced away into the night, too swift for anyone to follow her.

  As soon as she was back in the secret changing cubby, she shifted back into me. I rushed to put on my silk top, suit, wiggle into new panty hose, and yank my boots back on, before quickly sneaking back outside. I patted my hair and it seemed fine. I reached into my bag for my lip gloss and touched it up while I speed-walked back to Sven’s restaurant.

  The security guard opened the door for me, and as I walked in, I saw Sven coming through the kitchen door.

  I smiled and took off my coat to hang it on the rack—and noticed that my ruffled shell was on inside out and backward, showing the HAND WASH COOL WATER label. I was already in forward momentum going to Sven.

  I placed my hand flat over my chest and faked a cough. Then I pivoted my torso and grabbed a napkin from another table, shoving it into the collar of my top.

  Sven looked puzzled, and I said, “I hope I’m not getting a cold.”

  He said he’d turn up the heat, and I claimed that only my chest was cold, which sounded ridiculous even to me, and he offered to send someone for a shawl, which made me feel very old ma’amish. I insisted that I was fine and said I hoped he hadn’t had to wait long.

  “No, and I’ve taken the liberty of ordering dessert for us.” He signaled, and the waiter brought over an assortment of tiny pastries, each scrumptious.

  Why didn’t I eat scrumptious food all the time? Next year, when I make my resolutions, one of them will be to enjoy gracious dining, instead of eating whatever has the shortest prep time, like peanut butter on crackers and Count Chocula from the box. I will make a practice of having linen, candles, flowers, wine, as I banter cleverly with the impossibly handsome and attentive love of my life! And then we will tumble together, smooching madly, and make love on the hand-knotted silk rug in front of the fireplace of our deluxe loft/apartment/brownstone/etc.

  I wanted to know more about Sven and all things Svenish, so I asked him about his interests. He described himself as a tinkerer and said, “I tinker with mechanics, and I suppose my organ cloning is also a form of tinkership. I’m driven to create and innovate.”

  “I wish I could do something creative. I’m more of a puzzler, at least in my profession.”

  He laid his fingertips on my wrist, sending off a shiver, and said, “Perhaps you have not explored your creative potential, Jennifer. Perhaps I can help unleash that force within you.”

  Was he talking about kinky sex? It’s hard to tell with Europeans, but he may have been talking about taking a photography class, which is why I hate ambiguity. “Right now, my priority is winning this case. Thank you for this wonderful meal, Sven. I enjoyed myself.”

  “Can’t I tempt you with a glass of Tokay and an espresso?”

  When I declined, he offered his car and said he’d stay a little longer. When he took my hand and lifted it to his lips, it brushed against the napkin still tucked in my top.

  “May I return this to you later?” I asked Sven and coughed.

  “Please keep it. Good night.”

  As his driver/guard took me home, I sunk back into the seat and thought that this Valentine’s Day was definitely worth the wait even without passionate smooching, a detail I’d include in next year’s resolutions.

  I got home and arranged the napkin in the neck of an empty vase. If things worked out with Sven and I eventually revealed my secret, the napkin would be the hilarious story we’d tell our children. I can’t wait to get over my nervousness around him! I know I’ll feel all the exciting sparks once I get over being stunned by his looks.

  DIMINISHED CAPACITY

  MARCH 20

  RESOLUTION REVIEW

  1. Get new job at top firm—COMPLETE! Buy business wardrobe that allows easy changing—COMPLETE!

  2. Meet an actual human man who is considerate and romantic and establish an actual relationship—ALMOST COMPLETE!

  3. Have a real date on [postponed] Valentine’s Day—COMPLETE!

  4. Seek balance in work environment and social life—EXCELLENT PROGRESS!

  5. Stretch outside my comfort zone—EXCELLENT PROGRESS!

  6. Find a new apartment—IN PROGRESS NEED TO DO ASAP!

  If I had known how successful I would be completing resolutions set at a reasonable time, i.e., not January 1, I would have done this long ago. I could even write a how-to self-improvement book: The Valentine’s Day Total Life Makeover by Dr. Jennifer S. Walters.

  D always said, “People shouldn’t call themselves doctors unless they’re capable of performing an emergency appendect
omy or giving me a pap smear that doesn’t pinch.” But readers might be reassured to know that I had professional credentials.

  Writing a self-help book would be both creative and an outside-my-comfort-zone activity. It’s possible that my book would be so incredibly popular that I would be invited as a guest on talk shows, or even asked to host my own talk show! Dr. Jennifer’s Lifestyle Makeover. Or Dr. Walters’s Resolutions Done Right Show. I should find an apartment that could do dual duty as a writer’s haven.

  As if he could read my mind, my former boss and current landlord called me. “Hi, Jen.”

  “Hi, Holden! So nice to hear your voice.”

  “The new associates don’t think so, but I’m very stern with them and always comparing their work to yours,” Holden said. “I’d like to take you up on that offer for a drink. How’s tonight?”

  Getting together with Holden is both work and fun, so more of those life-balance points!

  7:30 P.M.

  Holden wanted to meet at another dive bar, Juliet & Snickers, over on Second. Like the last time, he was there before me. The crowd was around my age, but casual in a way that made me feel ma’amish in my business suit. Holden, easily the oldest person in the bar, seemed perfectly comfortable in a booth with a glass of beer. As I came over, he signaled to the waitress for a round for both of us.

  We greeted each other and I looked around. “Holden, why here? I’m sure everyone thinks I’m a narc trying to convince a prosperous crime lord to sell out one of his enemies.”

  “I certainly hope so! It’s one-dollar beer night. Since you’re treating, I thought I’d be a cheap drunk for you.”

  “That’s very considerate,” I said. “You like these sort of places.”

  “I like places where I can talk without any colleagues overhearing,” he said slyly. “Also, there’s always the chance of a brawl. You’re a thing of beauty when you fight, Jen.” He placed his hand on his heart and gave a sigh.

  I said, “My Krav Maga coach says I’m getting sloppy because I spend too much time at the office and not enough training.”

  “How is the new job?”

  “Exciting, but not crazy exciting. My associate is Genoa Lewes.”

  “The General? Lucky you. I’d hire her in a second,” he said.

  The cute waitress brought our drinks and I took a sip of beer. It tasted deliciously refreshing after my day. “I really like working with the General. She has a calm competence and never gets flustered.”

  “What about Amber Tumbridge? Isn’t she second on the ReplaceMax case?”

  “That case isn’t even filed yet, Holden,” I said. “You know too much.”

  “I keep spies in all the popular legal watering holes.” His blue eyes twinkled and he told me, “Amber’s an iron maiden. Scares the living daylights out of most men. She’s engaged to Quinty’s son and probably put more strategic planning into that marital campaign than most nations put into a war, so QUIRC will soon be all in the family.”

  I tried to sound casual and said, “I think any man would be impressed with a woman like Amber.”

  “Impressed, yes, just like any man is impressed when my granddaughter lands a left hook on his jaw. God only knows what Amber will do with the firm when she gets control.”

  “Holden, you’re trying to scare me back to you, aren’t you?”

  “Always, and bring the General with you, because I know you’re not going to stay at QUIRC and watch Amber rise to senior partner,” he said. “I give you two years tops before you need more thrills.”

  “I don’t need more thrills. That’s Shulky.”

  “You had enough trouble adjusting to life as a human practicing superhuman law with us. How are you going to manage as a human practicing normal human law?”

  I mentioned the luxury of having a private meditation room. “Besides, the Avengers have defeated all the recent alien attacks just fine without Shulky. It seems that they prefer the Black Widow’s detached efficiency to Shulky’s more emotional and impetuous personality.”

  “Do I detect a little jealousy, Jen?” he said. “Black Widow is a wonderful asset, but she’s not superhuman, and she could never replace Shulky’s role in protecting the world. I can’t speak for others, but I prefer Shulky’s passion. She fights—and she lives—with heart and soul. When Victor von Doom returns, we’ll need Shulky’s help to defeat him.”

  “Have you heard anything about VvD?”

  “No, but he never seems to stay away from you or her for very long. He’s especially enraged every time she defeats him.”

  “Beaten by a girl,” I said. “Men have issues with that.”

  “And what a girl!” Holden said. “Intelligence, beauty, strength. I’m talking about the both of you.”

  I blushed and said, “I know von Doom’s evil, but I comprehend how he came to be that way—with his home, family, and people being vilified and destroyed. His genius rose out of nowhere, inspired to rescue his mother from Mephisto’s grip. I wonder what he would have been like if his experiment hadn’t gone wrong and he was never scarred hideously, making people fear him.”

  “Jen, you always want to see the good in others, but I assure you that von Doom would be the same evil bastard no matter what he looked like,” he said. “I’d like to change my prediction for your stay at QUIRC to one year max, and we can discuss your napping—I mean, meditation—room. I need you on my team to fight the good fight.”

  “Which good fight in particular?”

  “Totally confidential: my new branch will be dedicated to alternative human life form law.”

  “Wow!”

  “Exactly. The other partners and I are setting the groundwork, and everything should be in place by the time you quit QUIRC or are asked to quietly get the hell out. The backlash against alternative life forms is coming. The fear and hatred always resurges one way or another.”

  “Like the laws to enforce a Superhuman Registry,” I said. “Incite paranoia in the population and confuse the issues so that no one questions the real motivation: unnamed powers who want to identify every superhuman for eventual exploitation or extermination.”

  “This time we’re going to be ready,” he said. “How’s the apartment hunt going?”

  I told him that I’d been busy, and he mentioned that he’d heard about the recent superhuman incidents, but he didn’t know who the two new superhumans could be.

  “At least one of them was nice,” I said. “Nice. It’s coming up everywhere, just like Joocey Jooce is everywhere. Do you know anything about the owners?”

  Holden looked at me like I’d lost my marbles. “Of a juice company? All I know is that their mango-apricot smoothie is my favorite. Now, about the loft…” He basically said that there was no hurry, but would I please leave soon.

  We gossiped about the latest goings-on in superhuman law, and I told him a little about Sven Morigi. “I think he’s spent all his life hiding in laboratories, because there’s not much information about him otherwise. Well, that’s how scientists are; they’d rather be looking through a microscope than be under one. I know Bruce hates being in the public eye.”

  “Morigi must be an extraordinary genius.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “If he was only an ordinary genius, he’d have Amber on first chair, because she’s the obvious upper tier, golden girl choice. The fact that he appreciates your greater talent proves that he must be extraordinary.”

  “Holden, you appreciated my talent.”

  “Exactly. Point proven.” Holden lifted an eyebrow and said, “Everyone talks about how good-looking he is. He’s single, too.”

  “It’s my policy never to date clients. Rarely to date them. I really try not to date them. Well, at least during a case. That’s my intention, at least.”

  He was chuckling as I excused myself to go to the ladies’ and crossed paths with the waitress.

  “Are you and the silver fox staying for the show?” she asked.

  “On
ly for drinks,” I said, and then I noticed the small stage at the back.

  “Too bad,” she said. “Fractious Faraday is our new house band. They’re killer. You should come back to see them. The lead singer—utterly panty-melting hot.”

  “I’ll check them out,” I said, just to be polite.

  When I returned to the booth, Holden looked a little more serious and said, “Jen, I understand that you’ve stopped going to your therapy sessions. The Avengers have asked me to act as their representative in this matter.”

  “It’s nice that they’re suddenly interested in me, since they were fine with ditching me along with She-Hulk. The agreement allows me to suspend sessions if lives are at stake, and my ReplaceMax witnesses are terminally ill.”

  “Perhaps you need to review it again, particularly the condition that negates any loopholes you wrote for yourself.”

  “That condition isn’t in the agreement,” I said confidently.

  Holden smirked. “You might not have noticed it because I had one of the time-manipulators set a delay function on it.”

  I drank the rest of my beer and said, “Holden, you’re not only a silver fox, but a sly one. Okay, I’ll make an appointment with Dr. Alvarado, not that anything is wrong with me.”

  MARCH 21

  I started my morning with easy attack drills with one of Azzan’s students, and when I got pinned to the mat for the second time, Azzan said, “Jennifer, where is your eagle-sharp focus? Bang, bang, you are dead and your pretty neck is broken already.”

  “Sorry, I was thinking about work.”

  He flipped his hand and said, “Then go to work and do not come back until you are two hundred percent a sexy killing machine.”

  “Yes, sir.” I felt bad that I hadn’t even been 100 percent, but I couldn’t stop angsting about the little girl I’d be meeting for my case. Sick kids have that effect on me, making me feel powerless.

  When I arrived in the children’s ward of the hospice, a nurse pointed me toward Mavis Bertoli’s room. I walked into the cheery yellow room and saw a haggard woman dozing in a visitor’s chair. Stuffed animals, picture books, and toys filled the counter below the window. Crayon drawings covered a bulletin board.