Photos of Reed Richard And A Redheaded Woman At An Abortion Clinic

"Bottom drawer, R files, Richards," the naked porn star told the heroine.

Sue Storm expected—she didn't know what to expect. This whole situation was insane. Nude photos of her had leaked, and now her one-time friend was propositioning her for their return. Claimed she had evidence of Reed's infidelity, which Sue knew couldn't be possible. The whole situation made her dizzy. It was like some kind of soap opera.

She found the drawer, then the file. Pulled it out and opened it.

There was an envelope of photographs there. Paparazzi-type shots. Sue knew the guerilla-style look of telephoto lenses on crowded New York streets. Sometimes their lawyers had even bought the photos, just to keep them from being run in the tabloids.

There was Reed, in civilian clothes. The brown overcoat she'd bought him a couple years ago. A fedora, even though he didn't like hats, but he couldn't hide the silver at his temple, the tell-tale jaw and nose. He was standing in a crowd, next to a red-headed woman—one of those blessed with long, natural, almost orange hair. She was dressed in a slimmer, darker overcoat, and they were standing next to each other. Sue didn't recognize her.

The next shot was zoomed out. Sue saw the pair of them were standing in front of a Planned Parenthood clinic. Her whole body froze in place. She flipped to the next photo.

The two of them had turned, back to the camera, as they walked toward the doors. Reed was holding her hand.

Flip.

He held the door open for her. She could clearly see the wedding band on his left hand, on the red-headed woman's shoulder as he guided her in.

Flip.

Through the glass doors. The clinics didn't let anyone shoot into the waiting room, but a bit of the check-in counter was available, and Sue could see Reed behind the woman as she signed a form.

Flip.

Later. They were exiting the clinic. Reed held the door again. Ever the gentleman.

Flip.

His face was lowered. Hers was raised. Their lips parted. A moment before...

It was the last photo in the stack. She flipped the photo over, checked the time stamp.

Eight months ago. She had been on a mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. Reed and the children had been at home.

"This doesn't prove anything," Sue Storm said, when she **** herself to breathe again. "There are plenty of logical reasons why Reed might take a woman to a health clinic."

"Without telling you?" Mae asked. The naked woman stood up. Sue didn't look at her. "Did he ever mention the name Lisette Orlova to you?"

Sue took a deep breath and counted to ten. Her mind was a tumult, but she didn't want to give her former friend the satisfaction.

"Take the photos," Mae offered. "Ask him. Confront him. Your glamour shots will still be here when you get back."

The Invisible Woman's jaw worked. She could just take the photos. Mae couldn't stop her. Except that meant crossing a line Sue wasn't prepared to cross. The photos didn't belong to her. And she needed more than just physical photos, she needed the rights to them.

Yet this was about a lot more than that. This was about her marriage. About trust.

"I trust my husband, Mae," Sue said quietly. "I'm not going to play your game. We're not going to have sex. It isn't going to happen. Even if this was proof of anything untoward. I am a faithful wife."

The naked porn star's face twisted. For a moment, Sue thought she might actually cry. Then her shoulders slumped.

"Alright. Take the photos. Take the rights. I'll sign them over to you. I just thought, if you knew...maybe I had a chance."

Her voice was small and sad. Sue didn't have the words to comfort her, not after a **** attempt. Mae signed the papers, gave Sue rights to the glamour photos.

They shook hands, at the door. Then Sue Storm turned away, emotionally drained...and with a double burden.

She had the naked photos of her younger self...and she had the pictures of her husband taking a strange woman to an abortion clinic. Which meant she had two hard conversations to have with Reed when she got home, both of which would start with one question: