Marvel: Open Up, It’s the FBI

Lynn Hall pulled into the apartment building's garage and stepped out of the car with Barbara at his side.

She was clearly still on guard, casting wary glances his way. Lynn smiled, trying to put her at ease. "Relax. My family's here too. I wouldn't bring you back if I had any other intentions."

Barbara's shoulders eased just slightly.

As they walked toward the elevator, she looked over at him, curious. "Mr. Hall… are you trying to recruit me?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."

Lynn's tone was friendly, sincere. "Your power's incredibly useful. If you joined the FBI's New York Division, you'd be a huge asset to us. But the decision's entirely up to you—I don't force anyone into anything."

[Barbara Kent Favorability: +1 → 4]

Barbara blinked in surprise. That was unexpected.

Back at the clinic, he could've threatened or coerced her and her father. Instead, he'd respected her conditions and treated her like a person, not a criminal.

And now, even knowing how valuable her ability was, he still respected her choice.

For a mutant living in hiding, constantly met with fear and hatred, that kind of treatment was rare—especially from someone with authority.

"Actually… I think I might be open to it," she murmured as they stepped into the elevator. Her red ponytail swayed slightly as she walked. "I'm tired of running, of hiding. Tired of the fear and the looks people give when they find out I'm a mutant."

Her voice dropped. "And I hate seeing my dad forced to help Brotherhood operatives. They threaten him, make him treat their injuries. Then I have to smuggle them out afterward."

She glanced up at him with a faint smirk. "So if I do join the FBI… can you promise to keep us safe from people like that?"

She wasn't subtle—positioning herself and her father as victims under duress. But Lynn didn't mind the tactic.

"If you're under my protection," he said without hesitation, "not even the military would dare touch you."

"Really? Even Stryker? He's a colonel, you know."

Lynn let out a low chuckle. "We're the FBI. This is U.S. soil. Forget colonels—if we had reason to believe the President himself had committed treason, we could haul him in for questioning."

That was a bit dramatic—but not entirely inaccurate. Under the right circumstances, it was within the FBI's jurisdiction.

Besides, Lynn had always dreamed of leading a team of elite agents into the White House, kicking down doors, dragging out a corrupt President in front of the cameras… maybe even surrounded by a squad of beautiful operatives while he made the arrest.

A man could dream.

---

Back at the apartment...

"Lynn!"

Barefoot on the carpet, Gwen Stacy rushed forward the moment she saw him—arms out for a hug.

But she froze mid-step when she noticed the tall, beautiful girl standing beside him.

Her eyes narrowed.

Barbara was stunning. Youthful face, long red ponytail, and legs—those legs.

Gwen's smile became brittle.

She knew Lynn's tastes far too well.

This wasn't just some random girl—this was competition.

She shot a meaningful look at Lynn. A look that said: Really? I've done things for you with my mouth, and you bring a girl like this home?

Lynn didn't flinch. "Let me introduce you—this is Gwen, my sister."

Then, turning to Gwen, he said, "This is Barbara Kent. She's helping with the investigation into the concert attack."

Gwen paused. Oh.

So she'd misunderstood.

Still, she didn't lower her guard. Her smile turned sweet—too sweet—as she reached out a hand.

"Hi! I'm Gwen Stacy. Lynn's girlfriend."

Girlfriend came out just a little too loud.

Barbara took her hand politely, smiling back. "Nice to meet you…"

The tension between the two young women was subtle—but very real.

From the kitchen, Helen Stacy's voice floated out. "Lynn! You're home? Go wash up—dinner's almost ready!"

Gwen glanced toward the kitchen, stuck out her tongue at Lynn, and muttered, "Oops. Forgot Mom was here tonight."

---

Later that evening — balcony.

A soft blue haze drifted away in the wind as Lynn ended his call.

Kelly had just confirmed that Gwen's mental state had returned to normal.

Maybe it was her own mental strength—or maybe the two days of intense therapy had worked—but she was recovering well from the concert incident. Kelly wouldn't need to make daily visits anymore.

Slipping the phone into his pocket, Lynn changed into shorts and walked back into his room.

Only to find Gwen sprawled out on his bed, staring at him.

When she saw him enter, she pulled one arm from beneath the covers and patted the bed next to her like she was calling a pet.

He rolled his eyes and walked over, scooping her up and placing her across his lap.

Then gave her firm backside a light smack.

"Hey! That's not fair!" she pouted, squirming.

"I'm not some little kid you need to spank anymore!"

"Oh, so you've grown up now?" he said, flopping onto the bed beside her. "Is that why you still need Helen to tuck you in at night?"

"Tch. Not like I asked for that," Gwen muttered, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist.

She flicked his forehead playfully, watching his annoyed expression with a giggle.

Smack.

Another playful swat made her squeak and bury her face in his chest.

"I wanna ride you tonight…"

Her voice was low, breathy, her cheeks burning red.

Lynn raised an eyebrow. "Sure doesn't sound like someone traumatized by a terrorist attack."

"You wound me," she whispered dramatically. "Maybe I'm just a demon girl who crawled out of hell to claim her man."

She leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "So… what's the deal with Barbara?"

"Huh?"

"You said she's helping with the investigation, but I know you, Lynn. You'd never bring a normal agent home."

He grinned at her suspicious tone—and told her the story.