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As Katharine Hepburn packed up her painting supplies, she watched Henry and Katie return and asked,
"Why didn't you play a little longer?"
"Getting some exercise was enough. We found some excellent green peppers today, and I want to get home early and cook them."
"In a salad?"
"No, no, no. Stir-fried shredded pork with green peppers. The pork delivered this morning included a fantastic pork loin. Perfect for the dish."
"Oh, then I'll have to give it a proper taste."
With Henry helping, the easel, paints, and supplies were packed away in no time.
The small storage box was secured to Katie's back with rope.
Henry carried the larger items himself.
As always, he clipped Katie's leash on and handed it to the elderly lady.
As a tiger who was always well-fed and could never truly compete with her Kryptonian two-legged companion, Katie had long since achieved the mindset of an enlightened monk.
She had never suddenly bolted and dragged Katharine off somewhere.
As for other animals, the smarter ones instinctively avoided getting close to a tiger.
If some particularly foolish creature wandered too near?
One swipe.
Straight into the air.
Henry generally didn't even bother stopping her.
Paying veterinary bills was a minor issue. As long as no humans got hurt, everything was fine.
Usually, after a yapping little dog got sent flying once, its owner immediately lost all enthusiasm for arguing with a tiger.
Still, Henry did his best to prevent such incidents from happening.
He honestly didn't understand what enjoyment Katharine found in walking around with a tiger on a leash.
But if it made the old lady happy, he was content to let her do as she pleased.
The trip home passed without incident.
Maria Thomson helped Katharine wash up and get settled, while Henry headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
Katie, meanwhile, followed her usual routine and went to eat from her oversized metal food bowl.
The butcher Henry had found in New York supplied meat every bit as good as the shop he'd used in Los Angeles.
Rumor had it the place catered exclusively to New York's top restaurants.
Without the right connections, they wouldn't even let you buy from them.
Had it not been for the influence of Katharine Hepburn's name, Henry would have been turned away at the door.
Just as he was preparing the ingredients, his phone rang.
The number displayed on the screen was unfamiliar.
Telephone scams hadn't yet become common, so Henry answered without suspicion.
Holding the phone between his shoulder and neck, he said,
"Hello? Who is this?"
"It's Mystique. Henry Brown, right?"
The voice belonged to a woman who had long since been placed on Henry's blacklist.
The surprise made his hand jerk.
The kitchen knife slipped.
Slice.
He cut his own finger.
Looking mournfully at the newly chipped edge of the blade, Henry sighed.
"What do you want, Ms. Raven Darkhölme?"
His current posture made hanging up inconvenient, and he wasn't quite annoyed enough to throw the phone out the window.
So he forced himself to remain polite.
"Call me by my real name—Mystique! You're in New York right now, aren't you? Want to meet tonight?"
"A booty call?" Henry asked. "I thought you and Hank were together. Beast not satisfying you anymore?"
"Shut your filthy mouth!"
Mystique practically exploded through the phone.
"You're only reminding me to tear your mouth off the next time I see you.
"Magneto wants to talk to you. He's busy at the moment, so I'm making the call."
Henry raised an eyebrow.
"He came back to the United States from Genosha? I don't think the government approved that. Maybe I should call the police and have all of you arrested."
"If you want to call the police just so they can die, go ahead," Mystique snapped.
"If I were you, I wouldn't bother doing something that pointless."
"Fair enough. Calling the police won't work." Henry paused thoughtfully.
"What if I call Professor X?"
"We actually have something important to discuss. Nobody's looking for a fight," Mystique said angrily.
"If you think every conversation has to start with a brawl before people can sit down and talk, then come fight us yourself. Don't drag other people into it."
"I don't think mutants and I have any important business to discuss."
Henry continued deflecting.
"Need I remind you? I'm an alien."
"Oh, give it a rest, Superman."
Mystique sounded thoroughly unimpressed.
"Do you really think you'll still be able to hide behind the mutant label after the government strips mutants of their rights?"
"You think slapping the word Superman onto me will make me hesitate to turn you all into meat paste?"
Henry replied pleasantly.
"On a scale from one to ten, how thick would you like the consistency? Nice and runny? Or extra chunky?"
"That's it. Magneto, I'm done talking to this idiot. You take the phone!"
She shouted away from the receiver.
A moment later, another voice came on the line.
Old.
Yet full of vitality.
"Hello, Mr. Brown. It has been quite some time."
A brief pause followed.
"Or perhaps we have never officially met."
"Hello, Mr. Lensherr."
Henry leaned against the counter.
"I hope you understand that being seen meeting a famous mutant terrorist would create a great deal of inconvenience for me.
"So I'd prefer this meeting never happen."
"Please call me Magneto. I abandoned my human name long ago."
His tone remained calm.
"And there's no need to be so resistant. I have no intention of borrowing your power to overthrow governments or fight armies.
"Though I imagine such things would be effortless for you."
"I'm a law-abiding citizen," Henry replied.
"I don't even have the courage to shoot animals while hunting. What possible help could I provide?"
Technically, he wasn't lying.
He had never shot animals.
He simply used bows occasionally.
Most of the time, he just caught them and snapped their necks by hand.
Despite repeatedly running into verbal brick walls, Magneto remained patient.
"Mr. Brown, if you're truly as lawful and kind-hearted as you claim, then surely you wouldn't want me discussing certain sensitive matters over the phone."
"Absolutely correct, Mr. Magneto."
Henry nodded solemnly.
"Please apologize to Ms. Mystique on my behalf. My earlier comment about turning her into meat paste was merely a joke.
"I don't possess such abilities, after all."
"Do you remember the place where the Phoenix became one?"
Magneto's voice grew more serious.
"There have been troubling signs recently.
"The Phoenix is showing abnormalities.
"If that concerns you, then you already know where to find me."
The call disconnected.
The implication was practically explicit.
Of course Henry knew the location Magneto meant.
It was the site where the U.S. military—still unaware of the true situation during the Dibari invasion—had rounded up mutants en masse and attempted to transport them to a mutant detention facility.
The transport had derailed there.
That location had become the site of the final battle between the mutants and the Dibari.
It was also where two fragments of the Phoenix Force had ultimately merged into a single individual.
But what exactly did Magneto mean by saying the Phoenix was showing abnormalities?
"Henry! Who are you talking to?"
Fresh from her bath, Katharine's voice echoed from the other room.
"Has someone come to visit?"
"Oh, I was just on the phone."
Henry casually bent the chipped section of the knife blade back into shape with his fingers.
Then he scraped it twice against his Kryptonian skin.
The blade instantly regained its razor edge.
After rinsing it under water, he resumed chopping vegetables.
"No visitors."
Maria Thomson poked her head into the kitchen.
Smiling, Henry asked,
"Maria, want to stay for dinner?"
"No, thank you. I need to get home and prepare dinner for my children."
She sighed.
"If I keep eating here, I'll start feeling guilty."
"Guilty?"
"Because I get to eat food this delicious while my children are stuck eating my cooking.
"At this rate, I'm going to lose confidence in myself as a mother."
"Surely it isn't that bad."
Henry laughed.
At that moment, Katharine spoke up from nearby.
"Maria, you could bring your children here for dinner sometime."
The caregiver smiled helplessly.
"There's still my husband to consider."
She shook her head.
"It wouldn't be right to keep imposing on Henry.
"Better to let them get used to my cooking."
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