“You found him! What happened to him?” Nova asked curiously, he and Jessica standing rather closely at the moment.

“Someone gave him a drink which the inhabitants of Sedronivus use for fertility rituals. It’s made from their native arthropods, I was informed somewhat after the fact, and might just have some unusual reactions in someone with powers derived from spiders or somesuch,” I explained with a straight face.

“Uh, oh?” Rich murmured, his brown eyes wide, and Jessica suddenly going red at the subject.

“Yeah, like really increased sex drive, pheromonal broadcasts, lowered cognition, and stuff.” I patted the butt which was naked under the webs. “Spider-man just set a big example for Terrans, although I think the Hulk has everyone beat.”

All eyes turned on the very relaxed Neanderthalic jade face of the Hulk, so lazily satisfied that there was no way to not know what he’d been doing. Then they looked back at Peter.

“Peter?” Jessica gaped, pointing blankly at him.

“You can try some quirfige next time you come back here and see what it’s like,” I smiled at her. “Probably not as effective, although if there’s someone with spider-powers around, you might become mutually irresistible.”

Behind me, Cindy and Gwen were trying very hard not to blush, staring at the oblivious Peter.

“Ah, the last of the prodigal sons!” Corsair called out, as Kurt and Remy came stumbling in, leaning on one another for support. Quite cheerful and experienced at these things, Corsair just waved them over, and promptly began regaling them with a tale of how he had dealt with something similar on Xiontis III, while covertly passing some anti-hangover stuff into their hands which they sucked down at first opportunity.

Thor was totally unperturbed by all this, finding it totally normal for the aftermath of a good party, and simply began spinning Mjolnir up, establishing a tracking of the Portal that had brought us here and which would bring us all home.

This time, an image of the bright sun in the plains of Texas was quite visible. There were quite a few complaints about bright light, but mostly it was arms raised and farewells as all the Terrans followed after Thor and headed back home.

--------

I set Peter down on a Disk, and he just lolled there, totally out of it, mumbling cartoon songs and chemical formulae and movie quotes and other stream-of-consciousness stuff interchangeably.

The vast majority of the ships were gone, and not just the ruined ones. Likewise, most of the cars that had packed the lots for miles around were gone, and the foot traffic going into and out of the Arena in the distance was mostly dried up.

The phones of everyone who had them began ringing and beeping and playing odd tunes as we came back in range of Terra’s communication system, and a blizzard of messages and missed phone calls and updates and notifications and the like all popped up.

I just dialed Dealer, getting through almost instantly. “Hey, you’re back!” she exclaimed. “Took longer than expected, I see.”

Naturally enough I’d Sent messages to her, not using the Crystal Vaccine, so she knew why the delay and could tell the others. “Yeah, bit of a celebration party after the grand heroic victory, although space empires don’t know the meaning of small for such things.”

“Is there video?”

“Unsurprisingly, yes.” If not Stark, then Nova and Cyclops both had visual recorders going, as well as Doc Richards and probably the Black Panther, and at least a couple Widows and Shields. There was already a sharing agreement and video file editing talks going on between the tech guys for media release and stuff. Going to alien worlds was going to generate some air time.

“Kewl. Anything noteworthy?”

“You are invited to cook a spicy course for the Imperial Coronation on the Shi’ar Throneworld in a month’s time.”

“Well, that sounds interesting.” She paused. “You think there’s any way I could get an Asgardian boar for that?”

I glanced at the gods close by. “I’ll ask in a minute. How’s things with you? I see the ship is closing up and making ready to leave.”

“I’m in negotiations to keep my place open.”

Somehow that didn’t surprise me. “Rent-free, I trust?”

“I’d have to do Worldjumps back home for supplies, they can’t guarantee me a supply chain, and you know it’ll take a long time to build up an alternative menu of random alien crap.”

“Yeah, especially with the harvesting requirements.” Something like the Colosseum couldn’t actually sustain a cuisine. It traveled around too much, the fresh materials it could get would vary wildly by where it was, and fabricated stuff, even the good stuff, was all blah to fighter-types at that level. “And they naturally won’t do a devoted Stargate, right?”

“Champion seriously considered it, actually, but he didn’t like the security or smuggling implications to his reputation.

“On the flip side, we’re gonna make a lot of money on the wines and booze he never got to try here, too.”

That’s right, we were! “Terms?”

“The Sims can actually handle everything below Combicha Three, so I only need to be there one day in five, actually. I have leave to create a Greater Seal to Focus for a Worldjump, and can bring in the fresh stuff with Tapestry or Item. Nobody’s gonna eat Combicha Four or higher more than once every five days, anyway.”

Also true. “You’re gonna get all the business you can handle if you can get a steady menu in there,” I murmured. “And those guys are loaded.”

“Yeah, I can shuffle in chef teams and send them on home, too!” she agreed cheerfully. “I started reaching out and setting up things. A regular rotation of top chefs bringing in their specialties and a consistent cuisine will drag in all these guys who have a ‘gotta taste it all’ attitude, knowing there’s an end.”

“Let the aliens handle the alien stuff.” Although there was no way she wouldn’t be trying her hand at bizarre stuff that came in, because that’s how us cooks and alchemists rolled. It just wasn’t part of a cuisine. “Ohhhh, you could potentially grab some alien chefs too, couldn’t you, do a whole cuisine experience across the galaxies...”

“Yeah! I handle this right, the Colosseum is gonna be known for its food as much as its fights!”

Well, it wasn’t like it didn’t have the space for it, and it was plain that Champion was probably one of the most experienced foodies in existence... but even he couldn’t keep up with all the cuisines and flavors on ALL the worlds.

“Alright, you do what you gotta do, let me talk to Brunhilda over here...”

I headed off for the Valkyrie, who was discussing her next moves with Sif and Ursula. She could probably get a boar fairly easy, spear-wielder that she was, and if not, the Warriors Three would take it up as a challenge.

========

No need for personal flights, Mr. Hill just brought everyone going back to New York with him, and we all wound up in his back yard. Goodbyes were said, handshakes and farewells all around, and a bunch of flying sorts lifted off, dragging the rest of them on the Disks which had become such standard equipment for everyone.

Ben and May Parker were right out front in their big old car to take Peter home, and the ‘helluva party’ explanation was sort of good enough for the moment.

“You’re back!”

I was actually thinking of getting at least a couple hours of Meditation in when Wanda came in through the fence and half-tackled me and her brother, looking both anxious and relieved. “I was SO WORRIED. That bastard Strange wouldn’t let me go through the Portal...”

She’d missed out on a trip to an alien world! She was so bummed, of course.

“It was definitely an experience to remember!” Pietro managed, trying to keep a lopsided smile off his face. No, no, he hadn’t taken advantage of circumstances to show some Roma style off...

She glared at him, over at me, and I just rolled my eyes. “He wants to learn swordplay now and learn to dual-wield mindblades with zumm-zumm sounds.” Pietro promptly went red. “Which is a good idea, it’ll really help him slow down, and put his patience on display.” He was going to say something to me, I just looked at him, and he shut up. “And wow, is he going to have to make up things with Cindy a lot.”

I swear his ears started blazing red as he suddenly realized something, and did not look around to see Cindy glowering at him.

“Why didn’t Strange want you to leave?” I asked her curiously.

“Um... we had to rush right off after the Portal was sealed. There was this huge Ritual that started in India... He said that without the Phoenix on the world, the Scarlet Witch had to stay to balance out the Dragon...”

“Oh, that makes sense. You’re both Chaotic powers. Yeah, wow, no Phoenix, no Scarlet Witch, India would’ve ended up a Dragon Kingdom sure enough. You must have had an exciting time.”

She straightened up proudly, and suddenly looked very tired, too. “There was a LOT of spellcasting,” she admitted.

“Well, I am going upstairs to indulge mein own hot shower, and then I am going to zone for a couple hours!” I announced to everybody and sundry, heading for the back door.

I’d spent time and money on my shower. It was a good shower.

“Oh, good! I’ll light the candles!” Wanda exclaimed, and hurried after me. Meditating with me was very relaxing for her, and would get rid a lot of her stress. I wasn’t surprised when she pulled out her phone and probably messaged Clea, too. While the Princess of the Faltine didn’t get involved in Terran ‘political mystic’s disagreements’, we did spar together, and she truly enjoyed me or Dealer Singing the Sublime Chord.

Actually, Wong and Dr. Strange did, too, but they didn’t come over to Mr. Hill’s place for Meditation exercises.

-----------

A few hours later...

Wanda promptly fell asleep on Dealer’s bed, which was fine. Neither of us used them much. Clea headed back to the Sanctum, looking refreshed. I wandered downstairs, then headed into the basement and the Mancave.

The place was built for Mr. Hill and friends to enjoy themselves, with not a jot of feminine frippery around. Everything in the ten-foot-high room was built solid, made to survive accidental bumping from the superstrong, and there were piles and places where really heavy and really big guys could fall asleep.

Some judicious dimensional expansion had doubled all the internal dimensions, making the place four times the size it should be, so there was plenty of space, too. And a walk-in refrigerator.

Mr. Hill was over by the hugely stuffed chairs, watching his prized TV screen that took up half the wall.

I put a bottle of Dealer’s Best down on his chair, and then another of Dealer’s Wurst next to Cain Marko, whose armor was heaped over in the corner while he was passed out on the fluffiest stone bag. He seemed to have a taste for the licorice-flavored stuff, and it was palatable to non-Avatars of Earth.