nextgenerationmarvel | Back? We Never Left! (Stella)

Years of hard work were finally paying off.

The patents were in and the constant batteries of tests now proved to the skeptics what Norman told them all along when he'd first mentioned the cure his company now possessed. They didn't believe him and may said so outright; others refused to take his calls even when he offered six companies the chance to independently verify his company's findings on the vaccine. OsCorp was in deep financial trouble and, for a time, he'd despaired that he was about to lose his family's company to the creditors and fail at what he'd wanted to do for so long.

Only after his discussions with Kimiko Tsurayaba did they finally listen to him and now the Food & Drug Administration called this afternoon to inform him of the good news.

OsCorp could proceed to market the cure for Lupus.

Norman was in such high spirits during his sparring match that he let the cage-fighter hit him twice, grinning as he felt his head snap back at the force of the blows. Those blows would easily have knocked a normal man unconscious.

Norman let the man swing again, then trapped the extended arm with his right arm while aiming three quick jabs into his armpit. Something snapped and Norman twisted, taking the man down into an armbar that left him howling, even as he tapped the floor furiously to get Osborn to release the hold.

Norman's good mood let him hold the maneuver for only six seconds before letting go and rolling to his feet. He looked down at the cage fighter but didn't really see him. He saw another man in a red and blue leotard with spider-webbing all over.

"Miss Cicero, please get this man some medical attention. Then get schedule a press conference for next week. I want the world to know OsCorp is back in business."

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Stella was used to these routine and had the medics taking care of the guy very quickly. She was glad to be handling the good mood kind again.

"Tuesday afternoon good, Sir?"

Norman nodded. "Tuesday afternoon is perfect. Ms. Tsuryaba should be in town by then. We'll also have a government official present. Once this gets out, I wouldn't be surprised if the Nobel Committee contacts us shortly after. I'll let you decide how to handle them." he said, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

He was shirtless, now, and only wearing a set of gi pants as he looked down at his assistant.

"How is your day going?" he asked.

And Stella will allow herself to stare for just a moment, though her voice is perfectly professional. "Very well, Sir. I'm liking the agenda, and can't argue with the view."

Norman smiled at Stella, the only person who ever received any of his genuine feelings. Most of those feelings usually weren't tender, though they were passionate, but it was all the same to him.

"Also, have the R&D department cleared out by 4pm today. I want to go and do some work on my own down there. I cured Lupus. Now I need to get some tailoring done." Norman grinned.

"It will be done. A change of pace is a good idea." Within reason, anyway, but Stella never enforced reason on her employer.

"Excellent. Thank you, Miss Cicero." he said.

"Oh, and be ready to take dictation this evening around midnight. I should be home and ready to work by then." he said offhandedly.

That manages a noticeable shift in her expression.

"Yes, Mr. Osborn"

Norman smiled at Stella's work ethic. She was extremely dedicated to her tasks and she used proper grammar and punctuation.

She was worth every single cent he paid her.

After his work that afternoon, he returned to his penthouse and poured himself a glass of pear brandy while he went over the day's records.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration crossed his mind and he turned over one of the pages of records he was reading and began to sketch out a new armament that he could use when he was finally ready to begin his crusade.

Edited 2013-01-25 03:50 (UTC)

It wasn't time for dictation yet -- pity, but they were usually quite adamant at keeping things to their time and place -- but Stella came in with some files and confirmations. She caught sight of what he was drawing. "Something new, Sir?"

"Yes. A modification to the glider. It's a damned shame that the military never saw the combat uses of the glider..." he said, turning the page this way and that as he sketched. Damn it, he needed a drawing pad. He reminded himself to have Stella buy one as soon as possible.

"I don't suppose there's anything to do in this dull city, is there? I'm dying of boredom. At least Greece and Switzerland were fun." Norman said, a note of irritation creeping into his voice.

He was so bored that killing someone now seemed like a worthy way to pass the time. He stopped and looked up at Stella for a long moment. He immediately banished the thought. Not only was she useful, but she was the only person who really understood him. Not even mother or Uncle Mark could say that.

Grandpa was a megalomaniacal psychopath with delusions of grandeur. Dad wasn't able to fill the hole that failure left in his father's life, leaving Norman to shoulder the responsibility of a legacy that only he could manage. But at least there was an Osborn worthy of doing so now.

"You look very nice tonight, Miss Cicero. That dress...did I buy it for your birthday?" he asked.

"I could call my cousins about either hiring professionals or about their... garbage pickup program, if you like, Sir. Depending." She smiles. "And yes, Sir. You did. Thank you."

Norman considered the idea. Someone in this city deserved to die tonight, didn't they? He would be performing a service for the city of New York by handling such a thing for them.

"Your idea has merit, Miss Cicero. And I'm glad you like the dress." Norman said. Granted, he was partial to a woman's clothing being on the floor, but he appreciated beauty when he saw it, clothed or not.

"Speaking of clothing...I could use a tailor. Find one and send them my measurements." he said.

"I can make both calls now if you like, Sir."

"Please do." Norman said, finishing his sketch as she said so.

"As I hear it, New York has all manner of seedy nightlife activities one can get into. Let us find some." he said.

"Indeed." And she'll make her calls, then rejoin him. "Well, there's a terribly interesting situation tonight in particular, actually. They just found someone who needed handling tonight; he can't walk after whom he killed so unprofessionally. But no one wants to handle it, so they've 'house arrested' him in the basement of the establishment until somebody gets around to it."

Norman nodded as he thought about it. It didn't sound terribly dangerous but then it took out the guesswork of hunting someone down and exposing himself to larger danger.

"All right, Stella. Call them and let them know that you've found someone willing to handle the matter for a favor." Norman told her.

She nods, then makes one last quick call. "They've agreed. May I drive?"

"By all means, Miss Cicero, please do. I cannot promise that I'll keep my hands to myself while you do, though." Norman said with a slight smile.

He wasn't always evil to her when they drove...but he was most of the time.

Back? We Never Left! (Stella)

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