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marysuevirusTitle: The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers!
Chapter Ten: The New Recruit
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. probably some drinking.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers! - The Index
Phoebe sat back in her seat and carefully rubbed at the aching muscle in her left arm. The wound was healing nicely, according to the S.H.I.E.L.D. doctor who'd tended the bleeding gash, but she still had at least a week before the sutures could be removed. During the healing process, she'd found herself prone to bouts of throbbing pain that came from over use of the affected limb. Keeping it lower than her heart while typing at the computer only added to the problem.
Perhaps it was time for a break. A glance at the clock showing in the corner of the monitor told her that she'd been at it for hours. Now would be a good time to step back and stretch. Let her arm rest. Take the boys for a walk. Find something to eat. She rose to her feet, carefully arching her back to work the kinks from it. The action saw Tex and Denver lift their heads in silent question. A hand motion bought them up on all fours, ready to go.
She went nowhere without the two of them at her side anymore. After the attack, Fury had informed her that she could take them to the gym with her. And where ever else she wanted to take them. His reaction to knowing that she'd nearly been killed on his base, under his own nose, had suggested that the man responsible would not be pleased with any punishment that came his way when he was caught. And Fury had assured her that the mole would be caught and dealt with. The tone of his voice when he'd said that had almost made her feel sorry for the man. Almost.
She was halfway to the door when a computerized chirp caught her attention. Sighing, she signaled for the dogs to return to their relaxed state and headed back to her terminal. A message blinked repeatedly on the screen, letting her know that her last program had found its way through HYDRA's firewalls and miles of security into their mainframe. A slow smile slid across her face as she reclaimed her seat and began typing away anxiously at the keyboard.
A voice at the back of her head cautioned her to be careful. She was relatively certain that the attack in the gym had come in answer to her poking and prodding their system repeatedly over the past few weeks. Any other time she wanted to hack a system, she'd have taken it slow. Moved carefully so that the system's internal monitors couldn't detect her actions until it was too late. But Fury wanted her in HYDRA's system and he wanted it to happen a month ago. So she'd pushed up her efforts and no doubt set off a few warnings here and there. HYDRA had attempted to beef up their security systems. But that had only made her more determined to get in and see what the hell they were doing.
A few more keystrokes brought pages to life on the screen, had them flashing one by one, faster and faster, until she could no longer catch any of the words on them. She tapped a couple of keys, starting a download to the printer so that someone could look through the files she'd stumbled into. Maybe with this task done, she could go back to her old life. Back to the bookstore and her upstairs apartment. Back to her personal gym and her personal computer. Back to a life without S.H.I.E.L.D. looking over her shoulder.
Back to a life without Tony Stark sticking his nose into her business.
That thought gave her pause, which confused the ever loving shit out of her. She'd made no secret of her dislike for the man. In fact, she'd gone out of her way to prove to him that he was little more than a drunken misogynist and she had no interest in him what so ever. None of her harsh words had turned him off of her. Nor had her harsh demeanor. He kept chasing after her with single minded purpose that was frightening in its intensity. Even worse, the more she pushed to keep him away, the more he chased her.
The very notion that she would miss his constant interruptions and his blatant attempts to convince her to sleep with him shook her to her core. How could she want nothing to do with him and still want to climb between the sheets with him and have wild monkey sex until every single muscle in her body was liquid? Something told her that he'd be amazing in bed, that he wasn't as much of a braggart as people made him out to be. She'd seen the tabloid headlines, heard the claims on those tabloid news shows as she went past them, that women practically threw themselves at her. At one time, she'd thought it was because of his money. Now... Now she wasn't so sure on that count.
Frustrated with her inability to keep focused on her job, she angrily shoved thoughts of one Tony Stark aside and headed for the printer to collect the pages of information she'd sent to it. And there were a lot of them. The printer was still spitting out sheet after sheet onto the stack. It took five minutes for the printer to stop going. By the time it did, the stack of papers was as thick as some of the older, more obscure books she sold from her store. Phoebe picked them up and took them back to her work station, skimming them absently even as she backed herself out of HYDRA's system with care.
"What have you got there, Phoebe?" one of the other analysts asked as he stopped behind her.
"Files stolen from HYDRA's mainframe," she replied as she continued to skim the information. None of it really made any sense to her. But a few of the pages repeated a name frequently. "Who's Loki?"
"Thor's brother. And a not so nice guy," the analyst told her. Phoebe frowned. Surely HYDRA wasn't dealing with that Loki? That was...
"Who do I need to see about these files?" she asked, looking up from the stack in her hands. The man pursed his lips and gave it serious thought for a few seconds.
"Agent Miriam Grant. She's S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resident HYDRA expert. Want me to show you to her office?" he asked.
"Yes, please. I think she needs to see these files," Phoebe said, then glanced at her dogs. "Tex. Denver. Come." The two Dobermans rose to their feet silently, then came over to stand beside her. The analyst, having gotten used to them, didn't bat an eyelash as he turned for the door. Phoebe and her canine companions followed him quietly, her mind turning over what this new found information could mean. She was sure it had something to do with the information that Fury had shared in the debriefing the other day.
She was still caught up in her thoughts when the analyst stopped before a closed door. A small plaque beside it told them the office beyond belonged to an Agent M. Grant. The analyst rapped a couple of knuckles against the door. There was a grumbled comment that they barely heard before someone called for them to enter. The analyst looked form the door to Phoebe, then turned and left her there on her own. It almost seemed a cowardly act. Hmmm. That had her wondering what could have scared him.
Taking a firm hold of the knob, Phoebe gave it a turn and swung the door open. A redhead was sitting behind the desk, her upper half covered in a charcoal colored suit jacket. The shirt under was pale blue. A pair of violet eyes lifted to stare at her. And she wasn't alone. Just as the redhead had been at the debriefing, so had the other woman in the office. This one had brilliant green eyes and jet black hair that gleamed with blue highlights under the overhead florescents. Instead of a suit, she wore the standard onesie thing that Phoebe had come to recognize as a general issue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. "I'm sorry. Is this a bad time?" she asked, aware of the two women eyeing her dogs silently.
"No. Not at all. Alex and I were just discussing her mission to California. Please. Come in. Miss Sinclair, isn't it?" the redhead said pleasantly. Smile on her face, one hand motioned toward the chairs before her desk. Phoebe noticed that Alex had one butt cheek propped on the edge of the desk. No doubt she spent a great deal of time with Agent Grant.
"The boys won't bite," she informed them as she moved into the room. Tex and Denver skirted her every move, noses flaring as they scented the air. When Phoebe took the offered chair, both dogs sat beside it and kept an eye on the other two women. "And please. Call me Phoebe."
"I wasn't worried about that," Agent Grant assured her. "What brings you to my office, Phoebe?"
"I don't know if you know, but Director Fury has employed me to find a way into HYDRA's mainframe and look for information regarding their recent activities," Phoebe began, deciding that diplomacy was the way to go. The other woman snorted and shook her head. Phoebe gave her a curious look.
"Fury doesn't hire people. He blackmails them into working for him. Or he cons them into taking a position they never thought they wanted," she said, a faint quirk pulling up the corners of her mouth. "He's really good at that. But that doesn't matter. Obviously, you managed to do what he asked you to." One hand motioned toward the stack of papers Phoebe carried. Then she blinked and shook her head. Her words came in a soft voice, muttered mostly under her breath. "Security leak, my ass. I should have just blown the fucking house up to begin with."
"Yes. I've found something," Phoebe told them, choosing to ignore the woman's comments. They weren't obviously meant to be anything other than observation. Shifting into work mode, Phoebe began flipping pages. "Most of these are files I just indiscriminately printed off in the hopes that they could provide information on whatever it is HYDRA seems to be planning. But upon looking through them, a name popped up and... I find it curious."
"What name is that, Phoebe?" Agent Grant asked, her voice suggesting she was terribly curious.
"Loki," she said and glanced up in time to see the surprise and shock roll across both women's faces. Then they looked at each other. "I gather that this is something important?"
"That might explain those circles," the one called Alex said. She didn't sound certain about it.
"I think we'd have to ask Thor about that," Agent Grant agreed. Then she looked back at Phoebe. "This is really important. Loki isn't known for playing well with others. If he's got some kind of deal happening with HYDRA, it could mean serious problems for us."
Alex nodded. "This is going to have to go to Fury."
"Of course," the redhead agreed. A faint grimace crossed her face. "After I sift through all of this. Got some spare time, Alex?"
The other woman smiled and shook her head ruefully. "You know I'm no good with this kind of thing. I wouldn't know what was important and what wasn't. Besides, don't you have minions that can do that for you?"
"Of course I do," Agent Grant laughed. "But I figured you had time to do some actual work since you had time to park your ass on my desk. I see how it is. You like to go out into the field and blow shit up, but when it comes to the boring stuff like paperwork, you don't have the time to be bothered."
"Seriously, Miri," Alex rose to her feet, hands smoothing the onesie down over her hips. "Do you really want me to do paperwork? I'm willing to help. You know that. But I know dick about HYDRA beyond how to shoot them, kick them in the nuts, blow them up, and generally do whatever I can to make them not breathe anymore."
"You have a point," Agent Grant smiled. "But you're going to help me anyway. Fury likes it when you stay out of trouble." The dark headed woman only smiled at that. Together, they turned to look at Phoebe, who had sat silently through the exchange. She'd seen all representations of comaraderie while at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s main base, but this one was new and intriguing. It was more than just a friendship. This one seemed almost as if they were family. Agent Grant offered her a chagrinned smile. "Sorry about that. She's..."
"Like family," Phoebe finished. Both women smiled at that. It was definitely an accurate description. "Is there anything else you need from me? If not, I'd like to return to my duties."
"Right." Agent Grant rose from her seat and came around the desk to offer her hand to Phoebe. Phoebe came to her feet and put her hand in the other woman's. The shake was firm and brisk. "Thank you for bringing this to me, Phoebe. I'm sure this is going to be a big help."
"You're welcome," Phoebe replied. She motioned to her dogs to follow her as she moved for the door. The Dobermans were at her side when she put her hand on the knob to let herself out. Before she could open the door, though, one of those weird spells she'd been having lately swam up to leave her dizzy and disoriented. Tex and Denver whined softly, obviously sensing her distress. One of them nuzzled her hand to let her know they were there.
"Is everything okay, Phoebe?" Agent Grant asked from behind her.
It took a few moments to push the bizarre sense of two people away and, when she did, she turned to face the other women with a faint, strained smile. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little dizzy."
"Come on and sit down." Agent Grant was there to wrap a hand around her arm and steer her back toward the chair. "Alex, get Phoebe a glass of water. You can sit here and rest until your head clears."
"Thank you. It really isn't a big deal. Just terribly annoying. I can't figure out why they've come on like they have." Phoebe explained, embarrassed that two perfect strangers were making so much out of something that wasn't that important.
"How long have you been having these dizzy spells?" Alex asked, drawing near to offer her a glass of water. Phoebe took it and sipped thankfully. "Have you seen a doctor about them? It could be something serious."
"You sound like Mary Magdelaine, Alex. Let the poor woman be," Agent Grant chided softly.
"Its okay. Its nice to have someone make a fuss," Phoebe admitted. Then she frowned and shook her head. "They started about a month or so ago. Just before I came to work here at S.H.I.E.L.D. I woke up one morning and had the most peculiar feeling that I was two different people. I'm sure it sounds insane when I say it that way, but--"
"Trust me. It doesn't sound as insane as you think it does," Agent Grant spoke over her. Phoebe looked up to find that she was staring at Alex, an odd expression on her face. "Round up Elsa and Astrid. I think we need to hit the diner again."
"Yes, boss," Alex nodded and headed toward the phone to obviously make a couple of phone calls. Phoebe watched them both curiously, wondering what was going on.
"Relax, Phoebe. We'll explain everything over some lunch," Agent Grant assured her. "You like diner food, don't you?"
~*~
They hadn't been kidding about the diner. It was a small, dumpy looking place with a few people huddled in booths with cups of coffee and twitchy hands that suggested addicts. Dumpy though it was, the diner was clean and the service was good. Almost before they could sit, the waitress was there to take their drink orders. Phoebe ordered some coffee. Agent Grant did the same. Alex ordered a Coke, the one called Elsa ordered a glass of iced tea and the fifth member of their party, a woman named Astrid, had to be prompted to order something. As soon as the waitress was gone, she went back to tinkering with some gadget.
"Holy fuck! Do we have to go through this again?" Alex sighed, reached across the table, and snatched the gadget from Astrid's hands. The woman looked ready to protest, but Alex shot her a look that promised pain if she mentioned it at all. Astrid sank back into the bench seat and glanced around at the others, as if she'd only just realized they were there. "Forget about the toys and think about the boys. Christ."
Agent Grant quirked her lips at that. "How was that trip to California, Alex? What did you and Barton do in that house all by yourselves?" Her reply was a single finger. That brought forth some laughter.
Since it seemed that Agent Grant and Alex were busy trading jabs, Phoebe took the opportunity to study the other two women with them. Astrid was something of a petite thing, with golden brown hair that looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. Hazel eyes that flickered back and forth between green and brown and golden stared out of a pale face, filled with confusion. The other woman, Elsa, had black hair with reddish highlights and a pair of blue eyes that seemed to see everything without really registering it. She thought that they made quite the odd group.
"What's the matter, Alexis? Didn't you enjoy your time with Agent Barton? I've heard the office gossip and everyone claims he's got perfect aim," Elsa jibed.
"Played with any patriotic sausage yet, Elsa?" Alex snapped back. Her comment saw Elsa's cheeks flaming red in response. Alex laughed and shook her head. "I thought not. One of these days, you need to join us here in the twenty first century."
"What's going on? Why are we here?" Astrid questioned, her gaze flicking back and forth between Agent Grant and Alex. Before either of them could answer her, though, the waitress returned with their drinks. After passing them around, she asked if they wanted anything else.
"A sampler platter," Alex told her. "If I'm doing paperwork with you, Miri, I need something to keep me going." No one else wanted anything else, so the waitress left to put the order in and they were again by themselves.
"I want to know just as much as Astrid why we're here," Elsa said as she fussed with the napkin wrapped silverware before her. "I was in the middle of some tests dealing with Captain Rogers' DNA and I really shouldn't have left them. But Alexis said this was important and..." The woman trailed off when Alex shot her a glare.
"Ladies, meet the fifth Sue," Agent Grant said and motioned to where Phoebe sat. She blinked at that announcement and wondered what it meant. Something about the word 'Sue' tickled at her memories, but she didn't know why. She was sure she'd heard it before, but she couldn't remember where. "Phoebe Sinclair, meet Astrid Pedersen and Elsa Jones. Astrid works for Stark Industries. Elsa is a geneticist. You've met Alex already. And I'm Miriam. Miri for short."
"Now tell her who you really are," Alex said around a sip of her Coke.
"I'm Daz," Miri said. Phoebe blinked. Daz? That name was familiar, too. She thought about it a moment and realized where she'd heard it.
"I'm Lady," Alex held up a hand. "This comes as a surprise, right? The mouthy, bitchy one with the attitude problem is a complete shocker, I know."
Elsa glanced around before speaking. "I'm Cat. This is only my second trip into the Mary Sue Virus and, so far, I'm loving it."
"Just wait until the shit hits the fan," Alex remarked. That earned her a look from Elsa. "What? The shit always hits the fan. You'll see. Mark my words. The shit will hit the fan and we'll be up to our elbows in it. That's the way these things go."
Miri glared at the other woman. "Alex. Enough. You'll scare Phoebe."
"I'm Gin," Astrid told her. The four of them stared at her expectantly. The only problem was, Phoebe didn't know just what she was supposed to say. So she kept quiet, hoping that this was some kind of bad dream or hallucination or one of those really strange spells she'd been having lately. When Phoebe didn't say anything, Alex frowned and looked at Miri.
"Have you ever seen anyone come through this fully immersed in their Sue?" she asked. Miri shook her head.
"No. That's a curious thing. Maybe the personality of Phoebe is just really strong." Miri stared at her. "I doubt we'd have ever known if she hadn't had that spell in my office."
Alex nodded and thought about it for a few seconds. "The spell is the key. How much do you want to bet its her other personality trying to break through? But Phoebe is too strong to let it out so there's an internal fight and..." Alex trailed off when she realized everyone was looking at her. "What? I'm not that stupid, you know. I just seem to end up being people who are."
The waitress showed up then to put a platter of fried foods down before Alex. There were chicken tenders, onion rings, and cheese sticks. Alex scooped one of the rings up and bit into it. It must have been good because she moaned in satisfaction. "You know, that food really is bad for you," Elsa informed her.
"Its grease. I'm in heaven. Besides, I'm going to have to sit through one of my mother's dinners again in a few days and, frankly, I'm not looking forward to it," Alex shot a glare at Elsa.
"Need back up?" Miri asked, humor coloring her words.
"Want to date one of my brothers?" Alex asked in return. "Mom is on the match making warpath."
"I'll sit this one out, I think," Miri said, shuddering just a bit at the thought. Phoebe found the by play between the two women fascinating. In fact, there seemed to be an odd mantle of companionship wrapped around all of them that left Phoebe out in the cold. Of course, the four of them were claiming to be two different people. Which was, naturally, just insane.
As if the thought had summoned her own thoughts of being two different people, her head swam and she was again assaulted by the sensation of not being alone in her own body. She tried to fight it off, but this one was more tenacious than the others and clung to her like ivy growing up the grid of a trellis. Someone must have seen what was going on because she heard a voice speaking to her, encouraging her to let the other side out. Which was easier said than done.
It felt as if the dizziness lasted for an age but, eventually, it began to recede and she could once more think. And there, in the back of her head, was another presence. One that understood terms like 'Mary Sue Virus' and 'Sue' and didn't think that the others were all off their rockers. When she looked up, four anxious faces stared back at her. "So. Who are you?" Astrid asked her.
She blinked and thought about it for just a second. "Rylan," she told them. That earned her a round of blinks back.
"Dude!" Alex grinned. "Welcome to the party, hon. So who's the person of interest?"
"Rylan?" Astrid asked, looking from Phoebe to Alex.
"A friend and fellow Marvel lover. Cat and Daz know who Rylan is," Alex replied. "Seriously. Person of interest. Who is it?"
Phoebe stared at the woman blankly. Miri rolled her eyes and shot a look at Alex that seemed to bounce off the other woman without effect. "She means which of the men is on the radar?"
"Oh. Tony."
"Which Alex would have known if she'd thought about it. Too much time in the California sun with Hawkeye has left her brain dead," Miri teased. Alex glared at the redhead and went back to her cheese stick. The way she mangled the thing made Phoebe think that Hawkeye was in trouble if Alex ever got her hands on his cheese stick.
"He's yummy. Of course, they're all pretty damned yummy," Astrid commented.
"That's no joke," Elsa replied and shook her head. "Its kind of amazing we get any work done around here." That earned the woman a blank stare from Alex and Miri. She sighed and frowned at he companions. "The eye candy? How can you miss it? There's so much of it here."
Alex and Miri shared a look, then understanding dawned on them. "Oh," Miri said. "You mean all the guys. Right. Sorry. We didn't notice."
Elsa gaped at them. "You didn't notice?"
"No," Alex shook her head as she plunged the end of a chicken tender into some barbeque sauce. "Didn't notice. Too busy working and shit like that."
It was Elsa and Astrid's turn to exchange a look between them. "Wow." Elsa looked shocked. "Tell me. Are Lady and Daz even really still in there? Because, seriously. You didn't notice Thor and Tony and Steve and Clint and..." Elsa's words trailed off when Alex shot a glare at her, a butter knife held in her hand.
"No. We didn't notice. Now drop it."
"Alex. Stop scaring the clueless genius," Miri admonished. She waved a hand in Phoebe's direction. "We need to deal with this newest development."
Alex said nothing, but she put the knife down and went back to attacking her sampler platter. They all watched as she ripped a cheese stick apart before dipping the pieces in marinara sauce and popping them into her mouth. Elsa smirked at that. "Based on the way you're destroying those phallic shaped snacks, I would have to say that you're sexually frustrated. Perhaps you should go find Hawkeye and personally discover if his aim is as good as they say."
"Perhaps you should shut up before you discover how many different ways I can kill you with my pinkie finger," Alex retorted.
"Children, please! Perhaps we should save the petty squabbling until we've given Rylan all the information required to survive in the MSV," Miri told them, her voice raised just a touch. Elsa and Alex subsided into silence and gave their attention wholly over to the task at hand. "Thank you. Now. The first advice to give is the best advice. Sit back and let your Sue drive. Phoebe will know what to do and what to say in any given situation. Since you've been doing just that so far, I think you can handle it for the rest of our stay here."
"Won't I lose myself, though?" she wondered.
"Nah. We always keep a little bit of ourselves, even if we don't realize we do. There will be moments when we'll come peeking out," Alex explained around a chicken tender. She was so nonchalant about it all.
"How many times have you done this?" Phoebe asked them, letting her gaze slide from one face to the next.
"This is Cat's second trip. Daz has gone more than anyone else here. Gin and I have gone about the same number of times. You'll remember this all when you get home. And you'll find that even though days and weeks have passed here, hardly any time at all will have passed back there." Alex looked up at her and smiled. "I know its kind of weird at first, that its easy to get lost, but that feeling goes away soon enough."
"Hopefully before you've scorched someone's balls off," Astrid added helpfully. Alex scowled at her, earning laughs from Elsa and Miri.
"Yes. Fine. Go ahead and laugh. Be glad that I can't do that here. However, I can kill you without you noticing. I have the training for that," Alex reminded them. Elsa and Astrid stopped laughing. Miri continued to smirk.
"You may have the training to kill them without their noticing, Alex, but I've got the same training. That threat is completely wasted on me," Miri said softly.
"True. So I'll just set you up with one of my brothers. That should both punish you and please my mother," Alex remarked and reached for another onion ring. That threat actually made Miri frown at her. "Yes. I would totally do it. And yes. I am that evil."
"What else does Phoebe need to know? I have to get back to work. I've got things to finish before Thor comes to pick me up. We're going to the theater tonight," Astrid told them. That earned her a couple of blinks.
"Thor? In a theater? That should be... Wow. I don't think I have words for that," Miri told the other woman. Astrid shrugged a shoulder, as if it wasn't as big a deal as the redhead was making it out to be.
"I should get back to walk the boys. They don't like being cooped up on base," Phoebe told them, a subtle reminder to get things going. This whole thing was giving her a headache, even if she did believe everything she'd been told.
"Of course. Forgive us." Miri sighed and sat back against the bench seat. "There's no point fighting the Virus. It does what it wants and you'll be stuck here until we figure out what's wrong in this world and right it. Until that happens, we just kind of go with the flow. Oh. A word of advice. Don't fight the guy thing. That happens, too. I don't know why, but it seems to be part of the Virus. We've been to lots of different worlds and there are always men. So go get Stark and ride him off into the sunset."
"It isn't that simple. Phoebe has problems with his drinking." She shook her head and frowned. "Not that she doesn't find him attractive. Just... She doesn't like the fact that he's a drunk. And just where the hell is here? Because I really don't have a clue as to where I am."
"Oh. Right." Miri flashed a frown, as if she'd forgotten all about that part. "This is the Marvel movie universe. Specifically the Avengers part of it. Which is why we get to deal with Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D."
"And don't forget Steve and Tony and Clint and..." Elsa began, only to fall silent when Alex shot her a look.
"The movie universe? How is that possible? I thought that the Mary Sue Virus worked on things like books and comics. Has it gone to the movies before?" Phoebe looked at them, puzzled by the news.
"I think it can go anywhere it wants," Miri explained. "It picks universes based on need. Then it picks authors that it brings in, slots into Sue-ish characters, and uses to fix whatever problems there are to be fixed. Along the way, there's some sex, some action and adventure, and some personal problems to be dealt with. All of the information you need for this world is in your head. You just need to let Phoebe control everything. No one will know you're in there. We were in the X-Men's world and Xavier never knew we were there. Just... kind of go with the flow and everything will work toward its rightful conclusion. Then, when its all good and we've fixed the problems, we go home."
"That's it?" Phoebe asked, slightly baffled by the simple explanation.
"That's it. Just sit back and enjoy the ride," Alex replied, downing the last of her chicken tenders. Then she glanced at the clock on the wall behind the diner's counter and frowned. One hand motioned toward it. "Maybe Phoebe doesn't have a schedule to keep, but you and I have a date with a stack of papers, Miri. We should really wrap this up and get back. You know what happened the last time we took an extra long lunch hour."
Miri grinned at that. "As I recall, Fury had you on the mat more than once in that training session."
Alex said nothing, simply rose to her feet and tugged a few bills out of her pocket. Phoebe watched as she dropped them on the table before turning for the door. As if that was the signal the others had been waiting for, they began sliding out of the booth. Phoebe followed after Agent Grant. She must have looked as confused as she felt because Miri put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "It will get easier. I promise. Just let Phoebe have control and you'll be fine. She's already proved that she can handle the situation fine."
Phoebe had nothing to say to that, so she remained silent. Miri motioned toward the door. "Let's get you back to work. I'd hate for Fury to think that we're all slacking."
~*~*~*~*~
"The lines in this one are very clean. And the colors. They're so vibrant and fantastic." Steve motioned to the painting hanging on the wall before them. Elsa stared at it, her eyes seeking out the things he was talking about. She'd never really had an eye for art. Oh, her parents owned art. Expensive pieces that no one could touch. Items to be displayed and shown off. Items to be bragged about. Cold pieces for cold people. But she'd never developed an eye because her parents had been total asses about it all. She'd been able to admire the beauty of it, of course, had been able to enjoy a few pieces here and there. But her parents had killed any desire she'd ever had to learn to really appreciate it.
Seeing Steve's passion for art made her want to learn to do that now.
They were moving through the exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, looking at each painting one at a time. When he'd first mentioned wanting to see the art exhibit, she'd been kind of leery. But there'd been such a hopeful look on his face that she hadn't been able to deny him the chance. Now, seeing his boyish enthusiasm for the masterpieces hanging on the wall, she was glad she'd agreed to this.
Each painting brought a new comment. He talked about lines and lighting. He talked about subjects and poses. He talked of colors and content. With every comment he made, Elsa saw a more beautiful painting, a warmer piece of art. And she saw a more relaxed Steve Rogers. That was something she enjoyed a great deal.
It was no secret to anyone in the know that Steve was still trying to adjust to a new century with new idea ideas and new technologies. New ways of living and handling things. New attitudes and problems. They'd had long discussions about how things were so different here in this time. Some days had been easier than others, but that didn't really mean anything when he was still trying to come to terms with missing seventy years of his life. Because of that, she'd tried to make things easier on him.
Despite everything he'd been through, Steve was still somehow that little guy from Brooklyn. And that little guy had simple tastes, liked simple things. That was why she'd never pushed for a really fancy date, why they hadn't done things like go to operas and plays. Why they hadn't gone to some of the more upscale restaurants in New York City or to those snooty clubs her parents liked. They'd gone to diners for dinner. They'd gone to a multiplex to see movies. She smiled at the memory of Steve's response to the multiplex and to an IMAX picture. They'd gone to the zoo and museums. Places where normal people went. Places that she hoped made him feel normal. Made him feel like he belonged.
In the process of doing so, Elsa had realized that she'd adopted many of her parents' more annoying, upper class habits and she'd looked down upon a great many activities that were actually quite fun. She'd found she liked roller skating, even if she was horrible at it. They'd done that one night. She'd gone into it with a skeptical frown on her face and had left laughing and smiling. It hadn't mattered one bit that her butt would be bruised and sore the next day. She'd really enjoyed herself. They'd attended a baseball game, something she knew her parents would find utterly beneath them, and she'd ended up screaming herself hoarse.
Add art appreciation to the list. She'd never before wanted to go to a museum, had never wanted to stare at the paintings and statues and artifacts that spoke to the world's history. She knew that part of her enjoyment was solely because of Steve, that his enthusiasm for things made her enjoy them more. But she also thought that she could perhaps go some place on her own and find some kind of pleasure in it without needing someone at her side to point out the beauty that could be found in the simple things. "Everything okay, Elsa? You look like you're thinking something really serious," Steve's voice cut into her thoughts and brought her back to herself.
She smiled and shook her head at him. "I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't mean to slip away like that. I was just thinking about all of the really amazing things you've showed me and how I might never have seen them if not for you."
He gave her a puzzled frown for just a moment. "You're welcome?" he replied with a hint of uncertainty.
"Its a good thing. Trust me." She motioned to the painting before them, one of a woman reclining naked with her hair fanned out around her head. "Before meeting you, I would never have wanted to come here and see these amazing works of art. My parents made a point of killing all of my childhood enthusiasm and I'd forgotten that there's joy to be had in just about everything. There's such detail in this painting, from the waves in her hair to the individual feathers on the bird sitting on her hand. You've been so enthusiastic about everything we've done and its really opened my eyes."
He gave her a look that suggested her found her words rather sad. Then the look was gone and a smile replaced it. "There's art in everything you see every day. You just have to find it." Something in the way he said that made her blush because she was sure he was talking about more than art. As if sensing his words had caused discomfort, he motioned toward the exit. "Tell you what. How about we go find some ice cream and find the art in a scoop or two?"
"Ice cream would be fantastic," she smiled. Steve offered her his hand and waited for Elsa to put hers in it before he started forward. Something warm and fuzzy slid through her, starting where their palms met and connected.
It was silly. Positively silly. She was a grown woman and well beyond feeling slightly giddy when a man held her hand. Yet, here she was. Grinning like a loon and damn near light on her feet because his hand was touching hers. In public. So that people could see. As if he was claiming her.
They headed for the main exit silently, only vaguely aware of the ebb and flow of people and conversation gliding around them. To Elsa, it almost felt as if they were in their own little world and everyone else were moving images on a screen. She was lost to the warmth of his skin against hers and the foolish hope that one of these times, something might actually happen between them. The only problem there was she really didn't know what her felt for her. If he felt anything for her at all. She'd never admit it but Alex was right and she had the hots for him. Bad.
They walked along the sidewalk, the silence between them comfortable. The air surrounding them was heavily layered with sounds and scents. Voices called and carried, some people shouting while others talked into their cell phones. The roar of cars and buses and trucks did nothing to drown out the voices. Exhaust and frying foods and dirt and the general smells of a city crowded around them. Any other time, Elsa might have felt a little overwhelmed and boxed in by it all, but tonight was a night of wonder and discovery. Steve had shown her that there was beauty to be seen everywhere and she looked for it as they blended into the bustling crowds.
By the time they entered a small ice cream shop, the sky was dark enough that each store front threw squares of mellow gold light out onto the sidewalk. Some places they'd past had stood with their doors open and voices from within had called out in an attempt to entice them inside. Some doors had opened only to allow people in and out, to allow the tempting scents of cooking food out. Elsa's stomach had grumbled until she'd almost asked Steve to stop. But the idea of ice cream had kept the words behind her teeth until they were inside the cheery little store. "What do you want?" Steve asked as he tugged her toward the counter.
Elsa let her eyes scan the board. "A double scoop cone sounds good," she told him, then let her gaze rake over the tubs of offered flavors in the case. "I'll have chocolate and buttered pecan." The kid behind the counter nodded and went for the scoop. "On a waffle cone, please."
It didn't take the kid long to scoop up her chosen flavors and hand over the enormous cone. Elsa smiled at Steve and started in on the top scoop with her tongue. He watched for just a moment, then turned to the kid and put his own order in. A waffle cone with a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of strawberry. Steve handed over the cash for the two cones, then motioned for Elsa to pick a place to sit in the nearly empty place. She chose a table away from the windows and settled into her seat. He took the chair across from her, flashed her a smile, then started in on the ball of strawberry that sat on top of the cone.
Memory flickered to life in her brain, bringing to mind the dream she'd had the night after the fund raiser. The one that had involved her naked body being licked clean of melted strawberry ice cream by Steve's clever tongue. Heat raced through her as she watched his tongue and lips work at the pale pink treat. She could very clearly recall just how those same lips and tongue had felt against her flesh in the dream. It was utterly distracting, prompting her to forget her own ice cream in favor of watching him enjoy his own.
"Elsa? Don't you like your ice cream?" The question brought her out of terribly erotic thoughts of what she'd like to do with some melted ice cream, his naked groin, and her tongue. She blinked and realized that he was staring at her in confusion and concern. Embarrassment ran through her, bringing a blush to her cheeks. Dear God, how was she supposed to explain this?
"I like my ice cream just fine. Its quite good, actually."
Steve lifted a brow at that. "You've barely touched it. You've been staring at me since we sat down and..." his voice trailed off mid-sentence and a look of understanding dawned on his face. It was immediately pushed aside by a bright blush, color staining Steve's cheeks red. Apparently he'd figured it out. "Oh. Uh..."
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Liquid cold dripped onto her hand, reminding her that she was still holding her cone. Tearing her gaze away from his mouth, glistening slightly from when his tongue had cleaned away the remnants of strawberry ice cream, she returned her attention to her own ice cream and hurried to clean away the rapidly melting frozen treat.
She kept her eyes averted as she worked at finishing her cone. She swore she could feel his eyes on her, a heavy weight as he considered her intently. Was he eating his ice cream or was it melting all over his hand? Why did the thought of his hand sticking with melted dairy make her mouth water? God, she wanted nothing more than to lick the ice cream from his hands and his lips. Wanted to actually lick the inside of his mouth to find out what strawberry ice cream and Steve tasted like mixed together. That want sent need pulsing through her, saw her thighs clenching together tightly as her muscles spasmed.
"Elsa. Look at me." His voice was soft and understanding. She didn't want to respond, but there was something so compelling in his voice that she found herself lifting her gaze so she could stare him in the eye. There was a faint smile tilting the corners of his mouth up. She waited for him to say more, to say something, but he only smiled at her. Kept smiling at her as he rose up out of his seat so that he could lean across the table. The smile vanished a second before his lips touched hers.
The kiss started tender and light, a gentle touch that suggested he was testing the waters. There was hardly any pressure at all, but something inside of her opened like a flower blossoming in the sun. Heat boiled through her, flooding out to the tips of her fingers and toes until they tingled. She wanted nothing more than to crawl over the table and wrap herself around him.
The moment she realized that, she rose up from her own seat so that she could make it easier on him. The kiss deepened, his mouth pressing harder against hers. She forgot all about the cone in her hand as pleasure crept its way along her nerves to fill ever inch of her body. She forgot that there was a kid behind the counter watching them with bored eyes.
She forgot about everything but the feel of Steve's lips on her own.
~*~*~*~*~
Phoebe sighed as she rounded the corner at the end of the hall and frowned. She'd just come from the gym and, after a heavy work out, had been looking forward to a nice warm shower before curling up with a book and reading herself to sleep. Based on who was waiting at her door for her, it looked as if that was a moot point now. Her feet halted for just a moment, long enough to bring Tex and Denver to a stop beside her. Both dogs looked up at her curiously. A whine brought her attention down to them. They looked toward the door and then back at her again. She nodded at them, then started forward. The Dobermans paced slowly at her side, matching her pace as she headed for her quarters.
Stark pushed away from the wall as she approached and flashed her his charming smile. "There you are. How's the arm? Giving you any problems? If its tender, I'm more than willing to give it a massage."
"What do you want, Mr. Stark? I would much rather have a shower and go to sleep. Its been a long, trying day and rest sounds like heaven at the moment." She stopped a few feet short of him and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Well, for starts, you can call me Tony," he suggested lightly. She only looked at him and waited. Several seconds ticked by before he heaved a sigh and spoke again. "I thought I'd come by and check on you. I wanted to see how you're doing."
"I'm doing just fine, thank you very much," she replied politely. Her tone blatantly dismissed him. He didn't move. "Go on now. Run along. I'm sure you've got a date with a bottle of something alcoholic. I would hate to come between you and your chosen poison of the evening."
He stared at her, gaze locked on her face. "You don't have much respect for me, do you?"
"You picked up on that?" she asked, making sure that he could hear the disbelief in her voice. "Shocking. Especially since I don't like you very much. And I've done nothing to make you think otherwise. Now, please. I want to turn in. Go on and go away now."
"The night is still young," he shot back without moving.
Phoebe rolled her eyes at him and made for the door. If he wasn't going to move, she was just going to push him out of the way, step inside, then slam the door in his face. And if that wasn't enough to discourage him, it wouldn't take anything more than a snap of her fingers to put the dogs between the two of them. The pass card she'd been given unlocked the door, allowing Phoebe into her room. The dogs trailed in behind her but Stark made no move to try and shoulder his way in. "Good night, Mr. Stark," she said just before the door met with the jamb.
"Doesn't it get lonely up there in your ivory tower all by yourself?" he asked through the door, voice carrying despite the thick panel between them. She sighed and put her head against the smooth surface, hoping that he would go away and just leave her alone. It didn't matter what she'd been told at the diner earlier in the day. It didn't matter that it seemed this Mary Sue Virus had plans that involved herself, Tony Stark, lots of naked skin and any flat surface available. She just didn't want anything to do with him and the Virus had to be wrong. "How long do you think you can keep the world at bay?"
Obviously her hopes were in vain.
"Go away, Mr. Stark. Go away and leave me in peace," Phoebe said wearily. All she wanted was to be left alone. Surely that wasn't too difficult for him to understand. Was it?
"Hiding out won't make the world go away. It won't even make me go away. Hasn't anyone told you yet that I'm really kind of persistent and annoying?" The question made her smile, even though she didn't want to. She'd kind of figured that part out on her own. But hearing him say it in that smug but not smug tone of voice made her want to smile and even laugh. "Seriously, Phoebe. I plan on standing here all night until you let me in and talk to me."
"Then I expect your legs will be quite tired in the morning, Mr. Stark. Good night." She turned away from the door and started toward the bathroom. Her quarters were something like a mini apartment, with a kitchen-dining area, a living room, a bedroom and a bathroom. Some of her personal items had been brought in for her so that it felt more like her own place and not some pretty prison. There was a metallic chirp behind her, prompting her to turn around and face the door. Which was open. Stark had just let himself in.
"I got lonely," he told her when she glared at him.
"Have you no concept of privacy, Mr. Stark? What will it take for you to understand that I want nothing to do with you?" she demanded softly.
"Tell me why you're so determined to hate me. I haven't done anything to you that warrants this kind of dislike. So what's the story?"
"Do you make a habit of breaking and entering other people's private quarters?" she asked, ignoring his demands. "Surely Director Fury will be displeased to learn you're bypassing S.H.I.E.L.D. security."
"Who do you think installed the security on this base?" he asked in return. To his credit, he still stood in the doorway, not quite in the hallway and not quite in her room. Phoebe knew she should be more upset by his actions than she was, but some part of her couldn't find it in herself to get really worked up. To do so would only encourage him further and she didn't really want that. "Why don't you like me?"
"You can't tell me that your ego is bruised because I don't like you. Surely not every woman you meet falls victim to your charms."
"So you do think I'm charming." He grinned when he said it. Phoebe had to bite her tongue to keep her own smile from answering him. She crossed over her chest and continued to simply look at him. "I'll make a deal with you. Tell me why you dislike me so intently and I'll leave you alone. Word of honor."
"And here I thought you had no honor," she quipped. He only watched her intently, waiting for her to answer him. He wasn't going to leave until she gave him that much, so she sighed and gave a resigned nod of her head. "Fine. I'll tell you. Then I expect you to leave and never come back. I don't want to see you in the gym when I'm working out and I don't want you to come bother me when I'm working. I just want you to stay away from me."
"Perfectly understandable." He didn't move from the door.
"You use alcohol as a crutch, Mr. Stark. You dislike yourself so much that you hide who you truly are behind a carefully crafted playboy image and drown it in any bottle of alcohol you can get your hands on." She let her gaze slide down his frame, noting for the first time that he wore nothing more than a pair of old jeans and a worn t-shirt. As if there were two versions of Tony Stark and since he'd found that one didn't work, he was going to use the other on her to try and win points. "Your drinking problems blind you to those things that you don't like about yourself and make you think that you can do anything you like without having to deal with consequences. I despise alcoholics, Mr. Stark. They're weak cowards who cannot face their own lives."
"I see," he said softly, then let his gaze skim from her to the dogs at her side to the stacks of books that one of Director Fury's agents had brought for her. "Just like you use your parents' deaths as a reason to lock yourself away from everyone else. You don't allow yourself to enjoy life. You don't let anything in that disrupts your orderly world. You're perfectly content to let the world pass you by, to hide in your books."
"You know nothing about me, Mr. Stark," she replied, straining to keep the anger out of her tone. "You know nothing of my life."
"I know that your parents were killed in a head on collision with a drunk driver. I know you spent three weeks in a coma after the accident, then moved in with your brother. I know that there haven't been any close attachments since they died. I know that there haven't been any men in your life. I know that your dogs are the closest you have to friends," he motioned toward Tex and Denver with one hand. The dogs tipped their heads to the side, aware that they were being spoken about. "I know that you don't drive, that you live your life in that book shop without really experiencing life because of what happened to your mother and father."
She should have known he would have dug into her life. The man had proved himself to be as nosy as the neighborhood busy body. What she hadn't expected was the slight pang of pain that came with his description of her life. As if she was merely existing. "This from a man who over-indulges in everything he does."
"At least I live," he replied. His tone implied that she didn't do anything of the sort.
"How dare you!" she snapped, the control she had on her emotions shredded by his callous comment. He had no right to judge how she chose to live her life. And she didn't have to justify anything she did to him. Forgetting herself, Phoebe marched across the distance between them and delivered a stinging blow to his cheek. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner! You've got no damned right--"
"People in glass houses, Phoebe," he remarked, unmoved by her display.
She was close enough to inhale the spicy scent of his aftershave, to catch the hints of the shampoo he'd used on his unruly hair. She was close enough to see the red imprint of her hand on his cheek and the emotions swimming in his gaze. Standing before him as she was, she could see that his casual clothes did nothing to diminish his innate confidence and certainly didn't hide the muscles that rolled smoothly under his skin.
The man was beautiful. Bad habits aside, she was so turned on by him that she couldn't help herself. She had been almost from the beginning, when he'd proved himself to be so much more than the womanizer she'd seen on television. Their eyes met and held for a few moments, then she was wrapped up in his arms and his mouth was feasting on hers. The door closed behind him with a soft thump, allowing her to shove his back up against it. Her hands scrabbled for the hem of his t-shirt while his slid down her sides to rest on her hips.
Kissing Tony Stark was like eating the richest, most expensive chocolate in the world. It was heady and she quickly lost her mind. She was intoxicated by the man and didn't stop to think about it when she broke the kiss with him so that she could pull his shirt over his head. With his chest bared, arc reactor glowing brightly from between his pecs, she let her hands wander over his flesh so that she could map every inch of his torso. He groaned before catching her mouth with his again, his lips teasing hers open so that he could drive his tongue deep into her mouth.
A wanton, husky moan rolled up her throat. The sound was foreign to her ears and barely registered before he swallowed it down. His hands crept up under her shirt, fingers skimming over the soft flesh over her belly until they found her breasts. The heat of his palms shaping them dragged her mouth from his, saw her keening a loud sound of pleasure out into the air. Undeterred, Tony's mouth sought out her neck and began dropping bites and kisses to it.
She felt the clasp on her bra give and didn't care. Felt the heat of his hands slide down her back and work their way under the waistband of her sweats. Felt his hands shape to her ass so that he could press her forward into him. And she felt the insistent prod of his erection against her belly.
That was like being doused with ice water. She broke out of the pleasure induced fog and shoved him away from her. "Get out," she whispered, unable to look at him.
"Phoebe," he began, but she only pointed to the door with one hand.
"Please, Mr. Stark. Leave." She panted for breath, tried to pull the tatters of her shredded dignity back around her. Listened to him pull air into his lungs as he stood there and stared at her. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her shoulders.
"Phoebe. Talk to me."
She shook her head. She couldn't. She just couldn't. It didn't matter how much he turned her on. "Please, Tony," she whispered. "Just go. Please."
He said nothing, but she heard him scoop up his discarded shirt, heard it rustle as he pulled it back on. Then he was gone out the door and she was once again alone. Her hands shook when she slid the chain into place. That had been so close. So close. And she'd wanted him so badly.
Her hands were still shaking when she crawled under the spray of the shower in an attempt to wash away the memory of his caresses against her skin.
Chapter Ten: The New Recruit
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. probably some drinking.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers! - The Index
Phoebe sat back in her seat and carefully rubbed at the aching muscle in her left arm. The wound was healing nicely, according to the S.H.I.E.L.D. doctor who'd tended the bleeding gash, but she still had at least a week before the sutures could be removed. During the healing process, she'd found herself prone to bouts of throbbing pain that came from over use of the affected limb. Keeping it lower than her heart while typing at the computer only added to the problem.
Perhaps it was time for a break. A glance at the clock showing in the corner of the monitor told her that she'd been at it for hours. Now would be a good time to step back and stretch. Let her arm rest. Take the boys for a walk. Find something to eat. She rose to her feet, carefully arching her back to work the kinks from it. The action saw Tex and Denver lift their heads in silent question. A hand motion bought them up on all fours, ready to go.
She went nowhere without the two of them at her side anymore. After the attack, Fury had informed her that she could take them to the gym with her. And where ever else she wanted to take them. His reaction to knowing that she'd nearly been killed on his base, under his own nose, had suggested that the man responsible would not be pleased with any punishment that came his way when he was caught. And Fury had assured her that the mole would be caught and dealt with. The tone of his voice when he'd said that had almost made her feel sorry for the man. Almost.
She was halfway to the door when a computerized chirp caught her attention. Sighing, she signaled for the dogs to return to their relaxed state and headed back to her terminal. A message blinked repeatedly on the screen, letting her know that her last program had found its way through HYDRA's firewalls and miles of security into their mainframe. A slow smile slid across her face as she reclaimed her seat and began typing away anxiously at the keyboard.
A voice at the back of her head cautioned her to be careful. She was relatively certain that the attack in the gym had come in answer to her poking and prodding their system repeatedly over the past few weeks. Any other time she wanted to hack a system, she'd have taken it slow. Moved carefully so that the system's internal monitors couldn't detect her actions until it was too late. But Fury wanted her in HYDRA's system and he wanted it to happen a month ago. So she'd pushed up her efforts and no doubt set off a few warnings here and there. HYDRA had attempted to beef up their security systems. But that had only made her more determined to get in and see what the hell they were doing.
A few more keystrokes brought pages to life on the screen, had them flashing one by one, faster and faster, until she could no longer catch any of the words on them. She tapped a couple of keys, starting a download to the printer so that someone could look through the files she'd stumbled into. Maybe with this task done, she could go back to her old life. Back to the bookstore and her upstairs apartment. Back to her personal gym and her personal computer. Back to a life without S.H.I.E.L.D. looking over her shoulder.
Back to a life without Tony Stark sticking his nose into her business.
That thought gave her pause, which confused the ever loving shit out of her. She'd made no secret of her dislike for the man. In fact, she'd gone out of her way to prove to him that he was little more than a drunken misogynist and she had no interest in him what so ever. None of her harsh words had turned him off of her. Nor had her harsh demeanor. He kept chasing after her with single minded purpose that was frightening in its intensity. Even worse, the more she pushed to keep him away, the more he chased her.
The very notion that she would miss his constant interruptions and his blatant attempts to convince her to sleep with him shook her to her core. How could she want nothing to do with him and still want to climb between the sheets with him and have wild monkey sex until every single muscle in her body was liquid? Something told her that he'd be amazing in bed, that he wasn't as much of a braggart as people made him out to be. She'd seen the tabloid headlines, heard the claims on those tabloid news shows as she went past them, that women practically threw themselves at her. At one time, she'd thought it was because of his money. Now... Now she wasn't so sure on that count.
Frustrated with her inability to keep focused on her job, she angrily shoved thoughts of one Tony Stark aside and headed for the printer to collect the pages of information she'd sent to it. And there were a lot of them. The printer was still spitting out sheet after sheet onto the stack. It took five minutes for the printer to stop going. By the time it did, the stack of papers was as thick as some of the older, more obscure books she sold from her store. Phoebe picked them up and took them back to her work station, skimming them absently even as she backed herself out of HYDRA's system with care.
"What have you got there, Phoebe?" one of the other analysts asked as he stopped behind her.
"Files stolen from HYDRA's mainframe," she replied as she continued to skim the information. None of it really made any sense to her. But a few of the pages repeated a name frequently. "Who's Loki?"
"Thor's brother. And a not so nice guy," the analyst told her. Phoebe frowned. Surely HYDRA wasn't dealing with that Loki? That was...
"Who do I need to see about these files?" she asked, looking up from the stack in her hands. The man pursed his lips and gave it serious thought for a few seconds.
"Agent Miriam Grant. She's S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resident HYDRA expert. Want me to show you to her office?" he asked.
"Yes, please. I think she needs to see these files," Phoebe said, then glanced at her dogs. "Tex. Denver. Come." The two Dobermans rose to their feet silently, then came over to stand beside her. The analyst, having gotten used to them, didn't bat an eyelash as he turned for the door. Phoebe and her canine companions followed him quietly, her mind turning over what this new found information could mean. She was sure it had something to do with the information that Fury had shared in the debriefing the other day.
She was still caught up in her thoughts when the analyst stopped before a closed door. A small plaque beside it told them the office beyond belonged to an Agent M. Grant. The analyst rapped a couple of knuckles against the door. There was a grumbled comment that they barely heard before someone called for them to enter. The analyst looked form the door to Phoebe, then turned and left her there on her own. It almost seemed a cowardly act. Hmmm. That had her wondering what could have scared him.
Taking a firm hold of the knob, Phoebe gave it a turn and swung the door open. A redhead was sitting behind the desk, her upper half covered in a charcoal colored suit jacket. The shirt under was pale blue. A pair of violet eyes lifted to stare at her. And she wasn't alone. Just as the redhead had been at the debriefing, so had the other woman in the office. This one had brilliant green eyes and jet black hair that gleamed with blue highlights under the overhead florescents. Instead of a suit, she wore the standard onesie thing that Phoebe had come to recognize as a general issue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. "I'm sorry. Is this a bad time?" she asked, aware of the two women eyeing her dogs silently.
"No. Not at all. Alex and I were just discussing her mission to California. Please. Come in. Miss Sinclair, isn't it?" the redhead said pleasantly. Smile on her face, one hand motioned toward the chairs before her desk. Phoebe noticed that Alex had one butt cheek propped on the edge of the desk. No doubt she spent a great deal of time with Agent Grant.
"The boys won't bite," she informed them as she moved into the room. Tex and Denver skirted her every move, noses flaring as they scented the air. When Phoebe took the offered chair, both dogs sat beside it and kept an eye on the other two women. "And please. Call me Phoebe."
"I wasn't worried about that," Agent Grant assured her. "What brings you to my office, Phoebe?"
"I don't know if you know, but Director Fury has employed me to find a way into HYDRA's mainframe and look for information regarding their recent activities," Phoebe began, deciding that diplomacy was the way to go. The other woman snorted and shook her head. Phoebe gave her a curious look.
"Fury doesn't hire people. He blackmails them into working for him. Or he cons them into taking a position they never thought they wanted," she said, a faint quirk pulling up the corners of her mouth. "He's really good at that. But that doesn't matter. Obviously, you managed to do what he asked you to." One hand motioned toward the stack of papers Phoebe carried. Then she blinked and shook her head. Her words came in a soft voice, muttered mostly under her breath. "Security leak, my ass. I should have just blown the fucking house up to begin with."
"Yes. I've found something," Phoebe told them, choosing to ignore the woman's comments. They weren't obviously meant to be anything other than observation. Shifting into work mode, Phoebe began flipping pages. "Most of these are files I just indiscriminately printed off in the hopes that they could provide information on whatever it is HYDRA seems to be planning. But upon looking through them, a name popped up and... I find it curious."
"What name is that, Phoebe?" Agent Grant asked, her voice suggesting she was terribly curious.
"Loki," she said and glanced up in time to see the surprise and shock roll across both women's faces. Then they looked at each other. "I gather that this is something important?"
"That might explain those circles," the one called Alex said. She didn't sound certain about it.
"I think we'd have to ask Thor about that," Agent Grant agreed. Then she looked back at Phoebe. "This is really important. Loki isn't known for playing well with others. If he's got some kind of deal happening with HYDRA, it could mean serious problems for us."
Alex nodded. "This is going to have to go to Fury."
"Of course," the redhead agreed. A faint grimace crossed her face. "After I sift through all of this. Got some spare time, Alex?"
The other woman smiled and shook her head ruefully. "You know I'm no good with this kind of thing. I wouldn't know what was important and what wasn't. Besides, don't you have minions that can do that for you?"
"Of course I do," Agent Grant laughed. "But I figured you had time to do some actual work since you had time to park your ass on my desk. I see how it is. You like to go out into the field and blow shit up, but when it comes to the boring stuff like paperwork, you don't have the time to be bothered."
"Seriously, Miri," Alex rose to her feet, hands smoothing the onesie down over her hips. "Do you really want me to do paperwork? I'm willing to help. You know that. But I know dick about HYDRA beyond how to shoot them, kick them in the nuts, blow them up, and generally do whatever I can to make them not breathe anymore."
"You have a point," Agent Grant smiled. "But you're going to help me anyway. Fury likes it when you stay out of trouble." The dark headed woman only smiled at that. Together, they turned to look at Phoebe, who had sat silently through the exchange. She'd seen all representations of comaraderie while at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s main base, but this one was new and intriguing. It was more than just a friendship. This one seemed almost as if they were family. Agent Grant offered her a chagrinned smile. "Sorry about that. She's..."
"Like family," Phoebe finished. Both women smiled at that. It was definitely an accurate description. "Is there anything else you need from me? If not, I'd like to return to my duties."
"Right." Agent Grant rose from her seat and came around the desk to offer her hand to Phoebe. Phoebe came to her feet and put her hand in the other woman's. The shake was firm and brisk. "Thank you for bringing this to me, Phoebe. I'm sure this is going to be a big help."
"You're welcome," Phoebe replied. She motioned to her dogs to follow her as she moved for the door. The Dobermans were at her side when she put her hand on the knob to let herself out. Before she could open the door, though, one of those weird spells she'd been having lately swam up to leave her dizzy and disoriented. Tex and Denver whined softly, obviously sensing her distress. One of them nuzzled her hand to let her know they were there.
"Is everything okay, Phoebe?" Agent Grant asked from behind her.
It took a few moments to push the bizarre sense of two people away and, when she did, she turned to face the other women with a faint, strained smile. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little dizzy."
"Come on and sit down." Agent Grant was there to wrap a hand around her arm and steer her back toward the chair. "Alex, get Phoebe a glass of water. You can sit here and rest until your head clears."
"Thank you. It really isn't a big deal. Just terribly annoying. I can't figure out why they've come on like they have." Phoebe explained, embarrassed that two perfect strangers were making so much out of something that wasn't that important.
"How long have you been having these dizzy spells?" Alex asked, drawing near to offer her a glass of water. Phoebe took it and sipped thankfully. "Have you seen a doctor about them? It could be something serious."
"You sound like Mary Magdelaine, Alex. Let the poor woman be," Agent Grant chided softly.
"Its okay. Its nice to have someone make a fuss," Phoebe admitted. Then she frowned and shook her head. "They started about a month or so ago. Just before I came to work here at S.H.I.E.L.D. I woke up one morning and had the most peculiar feeling that I was two different people. I'm sure it sounds insane when I say it that way, but--"
"Trust me. It doesn't sound as insane as you think it does," Agent Grant spoke over her. Phoebe looked up to find that she was staring at Alex, an odd expression on her face. "Round up Elsa and Astrid. I think we need to hit the diner again."
"Yes, boss," Alex nodded and headed toward the phone to obviously make a couple of phone calls. Phoebe watched them both curiously, wondering what was going on.
"Relax, Phoebe. We'll explain everything over some lunch," Agent Grant assured her. "You like diner food, don't you?"
~*~
They hadn't been kidding about the diner. It was a small, dumpy looking place with a few people huddled in booths with cups of coffee and twitchy hands that suggested addicts. Dumpy though it was, the diner was clean and the service was good. Almost before they could sit, the waitress was there to take their drink orders. Phoebe ordered some coffee. Agent Grant did the same. Alex ordered a Coke, the one called Elsa ordered a glass of iced tea and the fifth member of their party, a woman named Astrid, had to be prompted to order something. As soon as the waitress was gone, she went back to tinkering with some gadget.
"Holy fuck! Do we have to go through this again?" Alex sighed, reached across the table, and snatched the gadget from Astrid's hands. The woman looked ready to protest, but Alex shot her a look that promised pain if she mentioned it at all. Astrid sank back into the bench seat and glanced around at the others, as if she'd only just realized they were there. "Forget about the toys and think about the boys. Christ."
Agent Grant quirked her lips at that. "How was that trip to California, Alex? What did you and Barton do in that house all by yourselves?" Her reply was a single finger. That brought forth some laughter.
Since it seemed that Agent Grant and Alex were busy trading jabs, Phoebe took the opportunity to study the other two women with them. Astrid was something of a petite thing, with golden brown hair that looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. Hazel eyes that flickered back and forth between green and brown and golden stared out of a pale face, filled with confusion. The other woman, Elsa, had black hair with reddish highlights and a pair of blue eyes that seemed to see everything without really registering it. She thought that they made quite the odd group.
"What's the matter, Alexis? Didn't you enjoy your time with Agent Barton? I've heard the office gossip and everyone claims he's got perfect aim," Elsa jibed.
"Played with any patriotic sausage yet, Elsa?" Alex snapped back. Her comment saw Elsa's cheeks flaming red in response. Alex laughed and shook her head. "I thought not. One of these days, you need to join us here in the twenty first century."
"What's going on? Why are we here?" Astrid questioned, her gaze flicking back and forth between Agent Grant and Alex. Before either of them could answer her, though, the waitress returned with their drinks. After passing them around, she asked if they wanted anything else.
"A sampler platter," Alex told her. "If I'm doing paperwork with you, Miri, I need something to keep me going." No one else wanted anything else, so the waitress left to put the order in and they were again by themselves.
"I want to know just as much as Astrid why we're here," Elsa said as she fussed with the napkin wrapped silverware before her. "I was in the middle of some tests dealing with Captain Rogers' DNA and I really shouldn't have left them. But Alexis said this was important and..." The woman trailed off when Alex shot her a glare.
"Ladies, meet the fifth Sue," Agent Grant said and motioned to where Phoebe sat. She blinked at that announcement and wondered what it meant. Something about the word 'Sue' tickled at her memories, but she didn't know why. She was sure she'd heard it before, but she couldn't remember where. "Phoebe Sinclair, meet Astrid Pedersen and Elsa Jones. Astrid works for Stark Industries. Elsa is a geneticist. You've met Alex already. And I'm Miriam. Miri for short."
"Now tell her who you really are," Alex said around a sip of her Coke.
"I'm Daz," Miri said. Phoebe blinked. Daz? That name was familiar, too. She thought about it a moment and realized where she'd heard it.
"I'm Lady," Alex held up a hand. "This comes as a surprise, right? The mouthy, bitchy one with the attitude problem is a complete shocker, I know."
Elsa glanced around before speaking. "I'm Cat. This is only my second trip into the Mary Sue Virus and, so far, I'm loving it."
"Just wait until the shit hits the fan," Alex remarked. That earned her a look from Elsa. "What? The shit always hits the fan. You'll see. Mark my words. The shit will hit the fan and we'll be up to our elbows in it. That's the way these things go."
Miri glared at the other woman. "Alex. Enough. You'll scare Phoebe."
"I'm Gin," Astrid told her. The four of them stared at her expectantly. The only problem was, Phoebe didn't know just what she was supposed to say. So she kept quiet, hoping that this was some kind of bad dream or hallucination or one of those really strange spells she'd been having lately. When Phoebe didn't say anything, Alex frowned and looked at Miri.
"Have you ever seen anyone come through this fully immersed in their Sue?" she asked. Miri shook her head.
"No. That's a curious thing. Maybe the personality of Phoebe is just really strong." Miri stared at her. "I doubt we'd have ever known if she hadn't had that spell in my office."
Alex nodded and thought about it for a few seconds. "The spell is the key. How much do you want to bet its her other personality trying to break through? But Phoebe is too strong to let it out so there's an internal fight and..." Alex trailed off when she realized everyone was looking at her. "What? I'm not that stupid, you know. I just seem to end up being people who are."
The waitress showed up then to put a platter of fried foods down before Alex. There were chicken tenders, onion rings, and cheese sticks. Alex scooped one of the rings up and bit into it. It must have been good because she moaned in satisfaction. "You know, that food really is bad for you," Elsa informed her.
"Its grease. I'm in heaven. Besides, I'm going to have to sit through one of my mother's dinners again in a few days and, frankly, I'm not looking forward to it," Alex shot a glare at Elsa.
"Need back up?" Miri asked, humor coloring her words.
"Want to date one of my brothers?" Alex asked in return. "Mom is on the match making warpath."
"I'll sit this one out, I think," Miri said, shuddering just a bit at the thought. Phoebe found the by play between the two women fascinating. In fact, there seemed to be an odd mantle of companionship wrapped around all of them that left Phoebe out in the cold. Of course, the four of them were claiming to be two different people. Which was, naturally, just insane.
As if the thought had summoned her own thoughts of being two different people, her head swam and she was again assaulted by the sensation of not being alone in her own body. She tried to fight it off, but this one was more tenacious than the others and clung to her like ivy growing up the grid of a trellis. Someone must have seen what was going on because she heard a voice speaking to her, encouraging her to let the other side out. Which was easier said than done.
It felt as if the dizziness lasted for an age but, eventually, it began to recede and she could once more think. And there, in the back of her head, was another presence. One that understood terms like 'Mary Sue Virus' and 'Sue' and didn't think that the others were all off their rockers. When she looked up, four anxious faces stared back at her. "So. Who are you?" Astrid asked her.
She blinked and thought about it for just a second. "Rylan," she told them. That earned her a round of blinks back.
"Dude!" Alex grinned. "Welcome to the party, hon. So who's the person of interest?"
"Rylan?" Astrid asked, looking from Phoebe to Alex.
"A friend and fellow Marvel lover. Cat and Daz know who Rylan is," Alex replied. "Seriously. Person of interest. Who is it?"
Phoebe stared at the woman blankly. Miri rolled her eyes and shot a look at Alex that seemed to bounce off the other woman without effect. "She means which of the men is on the radar?"
"Oh. Tony."
"Which Alex would have known if she'd thought about it. Too much time in the California sun with Hawkeye has left her brain dead," Miri teased. Alex glared at the redhead and went back to her cheese stick. The way she mangled the thing made Phoebe think that Hawkeye was in trouble if Alex ever got her hands on his cheese stick.
"He's yummy. Of course, they're all pretty damned yummy," Astrid commented.
"That's no joke," Elsa replied and shook her head. "Its kind of amazing we get any work done around here." That earned the woman a blank stare from Alex and Miri. She sighed and frowned at he companions. "The eye candy? How can you miss it? There's so much of it here."
Alex and Miri shared a look, then understanding dawned on them. "Oh," Miri said. "You mean all the guys. Right. Sorry. We didn't notice."
Elsa gaped at them. "You didn't notice?"
"No," Alex shook her head as she plunged the end of a chicken tender into some barbeque sauce. "Didn't notice. Too busy working and shit like that."
It was Elsa and Astrid's turn to exchange a look between them. "Wow." Elsa looked shocked. "Tell me. Are Lady and Daz even really still in there? Because, seriously. You didn't notice Thor and Tony and Steve and Clint and..." Elsa's words trailed off when Alex shot a glare at her, a butter knife held in her hand.
"No. We didn't notice. Now drop it."
"Alex. Stop scaring the clueless genius," Miri admonished. She waved a hand in Phoebe's direction. "We need to deal with this newest development."
Alex said nothing, but she put the knife down and went back to attacking her sampler platter. They all watched as she ripped a cheese stick apart before dipping the pieces in marinara sauce and popping them into her mouth. Elsa smirked at that. "Based on the way you're destroying those phallic shaped snacks, I would have to say that you're sexually frustrated. Perhaps you should go find Hawkeye and personally discover if his aim is as good as they say."
"Perhaps you should shut up before you discover how many different ways I can kill you with my pinkie finger," Alex retorted.
"Children, please! Perhaps we should save the petty squabbling until we've given Rylan all the information required to survive in the MSV," Miri told them, her voice raised just a touch. Elsa and Alex subsided into silence and gave their attention wholly over to the task at hand. "Thank you. Now. The first advice to give is the best advice. Sit back and let your Sue drive. Phoebe will know what to do and what to say in any given situation. Since you've been doing just that so far, I think you can handle it for the rest of our stay here."
"Won't I lose myself, though?" she wondered.
"Nah. We always keep a little bit of ourselves, even if we don't realize we do. There will be moments when we'll come peeking out," Alex explained around a chicken tender. She was so nonchalant about it all.
"How many times have you done this?" Phoebe asked them, letting her gaze slide from one face to the next.
"This is Cat's second trip. Daz has gone more than anyone else here. Gin and I have gone about the same number of times. You'll remember this all when you get home. And you'll find that even though days and weeks have passed here, hardly any time at all will have passed back there." Alex looked up at her and smiled. "I know its kind of weird at first, that its easy to get lost, but that feeling goes away soon enough."
"Hopefully before you've scorched someone's balls off," Astrid added helpfully. Alex scowled at her, earning laughs from Elsa and Miri.
"Yes. Fine. Go ahead and laugh. Be glad that I can't do that here. However, I can kill you without you noticing. I have the training for that," Alex reminded them. Elsa and Astrid stopped laughing. Miri continued to smirk.
"You may have the training to kill them without their noticing, Alex, but I've got the same training. That threat is completely wasted on me," Miri said softly.
"True. So I'll just set you up with one of my brothers. That should both punish you and please my mother," Alex remarked and reached for another onion ring. That threat actually made Miri frown at her. "Yes. I would totally do it. And yes. I am that evil."
"What else does Phoebe need to know? I have to get back to work. I've got things to finish before Thor comes to pick me up. We're going to the theater tonight," Astrid told them. That earned her a couple of blinks.
"Thor? In a theater? That should be... Wow. I don't think I have words for that," Miri told the other woman. Astrid shrugged a shoulder, as if it wasn't as big a deal as the redhead was making it out to be.
"I should get back to walk the boys. They don't like being cooped up on base," Phoebe told them, a subtle reminder to get things going. This whole thing was giving her a headache, even if she did believe everything she'd been told.
"Of course. Forgive us." Miri sighed and sat back against the bench seat. "There's no point fighting the Virus. It does what it wants and you'll be stuck here until we figure out what's wrong in this world and right it. Until that happens, we just kind of go with the flow. Oh. A word of advice. Don't fight the guy thing. That happens, too. I don't know why, but it seems to be part of the Virus. We've been to lots of different worlds and there are always men. So go get Stark and ride him off into the sunset."
"It isn't that simple. Phoebe has problems with his drinking." She shook her head and frowned. "Not that she doesn't find him attractive. Just... She doesn't like the fact that he's a drunk. And just where the hell is here? Because I really don't have a clue as to where I am."
"Oh. Right." Miri flashed a frown, as if she'd forgotten all about that part. "This is the Marvel movie universe. Specifically the Avengers part of it. Which is why we get to deal with Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D."
"And don't forget Steve and Tony and Clint and..." Elsa began, only to fall silent when Alex shot her a look.
"The movie universe? How is that possible? I thought that the Mary Sue Virus worked on things like books and comics. Has it gone to the movies before?" Phoebe looked at them, puzzled by the news.
"I think it can go anywhere it wants," Miri explained. "It picks universes based on need. Then it picks authors that it brings in, slots into Sue-ish characters, and uses to fix whatever problems there are to be fixed. Along the way, there's some sex, some action and adventure, and some personal problems to be dealt with. All of the information you need for this world is in your head. You just need to let Phoebe control everything. No one will know you're in there. We were in the X-Men's world and Xavier never knew we were there. Just... kind of go with the flow and everything will work toward its rightful conclusion. Then, when its all good and we've fixed the problems, we go home."
"That's it?" Phoebe asked, slightly baffled by the simple explanation.
"That's it. Just sit back and enjoy the ride," Alex replied, downing the last of her chicken tenders. Then she glanced at the clock on the wall behind the diner's counter and frowned. One hand motioned toward it. "Maybe Phoebe doesn't have a schedule to keep, but you and I have a date with a stack of papers, Miri. We should really wrap this up and get back. You know what happened the last time we took an extra long lunch hour."
Miri grinned at that. "As I recall, Fury had you on the mat more than once in that training session."
Alex said nothing, simply rose to her feet and tugged a few bills out of her pocket. Phoebe watched as she dropped them on the table before turning for the door. As if that was the signal the others had been waiting for, they began sliding out of the booth. Phoebe followed after Agent Grant. She must have looked as confused as she felt because Miri put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "It will get easier. I promise. Just let Phoebe have control and you'll be fine. She's already proved that she can handle the situation fine."
Phoebe had nothing to say to that, so she remained silent. Miri motioned toward the door. "Let's get you back to work. I'd hate for Fury to think that we're all slacking."
~*~*~*~*~
"The lines in this one are very clean. And the colors. They're so vibrant and fantastic." Steve motioned to the painting hanging on the wall before them. Elsa stared at it, her eyes seeking out the things he was talking about. She'd never really had an eye for art. Oh, her parents owned art. Expensive pieces that no one could touch. Items to be displayed and shown off. Items to be bragged about. Cold pieces for cold people. But she'd never developed an eye because her parents had been total asses about it all. She'd been able to admire the beauty of it, of course, had been able to enjoy a few pieces here and there. But her parents had killed any desire she'd ever had to learn to really appreciate it.
Seeing Steve's passion for art made her want to learn to do that now.
They were moving through the exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, looking at each painting one at a time. When he'd first mentioned wanting to see the art exhibit, she'd been kind of leery. But there'd been such a hopeful look on his face that she hadn't been able to deny him the chance. Now, seeing his boyish enthusiasm for the masterpieces hanging on the wall, she was glad she'd agreed to this.
Each painting brought a new comment. He talked about lines and lighting. He talked about subjects and poses. He talked of colors and content. With every comment he made, Elsa saw a more beautiful painting, a warmer piece of art. And she saw a more relaxed Steve Rogers. That was something she enjoyed a great deal.
It was no secret to anyone in the know that Steve was still trying to adjust to a new century with new idea ideas and new technologies. New ways of living and handling things. New attitudes and problems. They'd had long discussions about how things were so different here in this time. Some days had been easier than others, but that didn't really mean anything when he was still trying to come to terms with missing seventy years of his life. Because of that, she'd tried to make things easier on him.
Despite everything he'd been through, Steve was still somehow that little guy from Brooklyn. And that little guy had simple tastes, liked simple things. That was why she'd never pushed for a really fancy date, why they hadn't done things like go to operas and plays. Why they hadn't gone to some of the more upscale restaurants in New York City or to those snooty clubs her parents liked. They'd gone to diners for dinner. They'd gone to a multiplex to see movies. She smiled at the memory of Steve's response to the multiplex and to an IMAX picture. They'd gone to the zoo and museums. Places where normal people went. Places that she hoped made him feel normal. Made him feel like he belonged.
In the process of doing so, Elsa had realized that she'd adopted many of her parents' more annoying, upper class habits and she'd looked down upon a great many activities that were actually quite fun. She'd found she liked roller skating, even if she was horrible at it. They'd done that one night. She'd gone into it with a skeptical frown on her face and had left laughing and smiling. It hadn't mattered one bit that her butt would be bruised and sore the next day. She'd really enjoyed herself. They'd attended a baseball game, something she knew her parents would find utterly beneath them, and she'd ended up screaming herself hoarse.
Add art appreciation to the list. She'd never before wanted to go to a museum, had never wanted to stare at the paintings and statues and artifacts that spoke to the world's history. She knew that part of her enjoyment was solely because of Steve, that his enthusiasm for things made her enjoy them more. But she also thought that she could perhaps go some place on her own and find some kind of pleasure in it without needing someone at her side to point out the beauty that could be found in the simple things. "Everything okay, Elsa? You look like you're thinking something really serious," Steve's voice cut into her thoughts and brought her back to herself.
She smiled and shook her head at him. "I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't mean to slip away like that. I was just thinking about all of the really amazing things you've showed me and how I might never have seen them if not for you."
He gave her a puzzled frown for just a moment. "You're welcome?" he replied with a hint of uncertainty.
"Its a good thing. Trust me." She motioned to the painting before them, one of a woman reclining naked with her hair fanned out around her head. "Before meeting you, I would never have wanted to come here and see these amazing works of art. My parents made a point of killing all of my childhood enthusiasm and I'd forgotten that there's joy to be had in just about everything. There's such detail in this painting, from the waves in her hair to the individual feathers on the bird sitting on her hand. You've been so enthusiastic about everything we've done and its really opened my eyes."
He gave her a look that suggested her found her words rather sad. Then the look was gone and a smile replaced it. "There's art in everything you see every day. You just have to find it." Something in the way he said that made her blush because she was sure he was talking about more than art. As if sensing his words had caused discomfort, he motioned toward the exit. "Tell you what. How about we go find some ice cream and find the art in a scoop or two?"
"Ice cream would be fantastic," she smiled. Steve offered her his hand and waited for Elsa to put hers in it before he started forward. Something warm and fuzzy slid through her, starting where their palms met and connected.
It was silly. Positively silly. She was a grown woman and well beyond feeling slightly giddy when a man held her hand. Yet, here she was. Grinning like a loon and damn near light on her feet because his hand was touching hers. In public. So that people could see. As if he was claiming her.
They headed for the main exit silently, only vaguely aware of the ebb and flow of people and conversation gliding around them. To Elsa, it almost felt as if they were in their own little world and everyone else were moving images on a screen. She was lost to the warmth of his skin against hers and the foolish hope that one of these times, something might actually happen between them. The only problem there was she really didn't know what her felt for her. If he felt anything for her at all. She'd never admit it but Alex was right and she had the hots for him. Bad.
They walked along the sidewalk, the silence between them comfortable. The air surrounding them was heavily layered with sounds and scents. Voices called and carried, some people shouting while others talked into their cell phones. The roar of cars and buses and trucks did nothing to drown out the voices. Exhaust and frying foods and dirt and the general smells of a city crowded around them. Any other time, Elsa might have felt a little overwhelmed and boxed in by it all, but tonight was a night of wonder and discovery. Steve had shown her that there was beauty to be seen everywhere and she looked for it as they blended into the bustling crowds.
By the time they entered a small ice cream shop, the sky was dark enough that each store front threw squares of mellow gold light out onto the sidewalk. Some places they'd past had stood with their doors open and voices from within had called out in an attempt to entice them inside. Some doors had opened only to allow people in and out, to allow the tempting scents of cooking food out. Elsa's stomach had grumbled until she'd almost asked Steve to stop. But the idea of ice cream had kept the words behind her teeth until they were inside the cheery little store. "What do you want?" Steve asked as he tugged her toward the counter.
Elsa let her eyes scan the board. "A double scoop cone sounds good," she told him, then let her gaze rake over the tubs of offered flavors in the case. "I'll have chocolate and buttered pecan." The kid behind the counter nodded and went for the scoop. "On a waffle cone, please."
It didn't take the kid long to scoop up her chosen flavors and hand over the enormous cone. Elsa smiled at Steve and started in on the top scoop with her tongue. He watched for just a moment, then turned to the kid and put his own order in. A waffle cone with a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of strawberry. Steve handed over the cash for the two cones, then motioned for Elsa to pick a place to sit in the nearly empty place. She chose a table away from the windows and settled into her seat. He took the chair across from her, flashed her a smile, then started in on the ball of strawberry that sat on top of the cone.
Memory flickered to life in her brain, bringing to mind the dream she'd had the night after the fund raiser. The one that had involved her naked body being licked clean of melted strawberry ice cream by Steve's clever tongue. Heat raced through her as she watched his tongue and lips work at the pale pink treat. She could very clearly recall just how those same lips and tongue had felt against her flesh in the dream. It was utterly distracting, prompting her to forget her own ice cream in favor of watching him enjoy his own.
"Elsa? Don't you like your ice cream?" The question brought her out of terribly erotic thoughts of what she'd like to do with some melted ice cream, his naked groin, and her tongue. She blinked and realized that he was staring at her in confusion and concern. Embarrassment ran through her, bringing a blush to her cheeks. Dear God, how was she supposed to explain this?
"I like my ice cream just fine. Its quite good, actually."
Steve lifted a brow at that. "You've barely touched it. You've been staring at me since we sat down and..." his voice trailed off mid-sentence and a look of understanding dawned on his face. It was immediately pushed aside by a bright blush, color staining Steve's cheeks red. Apparently he'd figured it out. "Oh. Uh..."
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Liquid cold dripped onto her hand, reminding her that she was still holding her cone. Tearing her gaze away from his mouth, glistening slightly from when his tongue had cleaned away the remnants of strawberry ice cream, she returned her attention to her own ice cream and hurried to clean away the rapidly melting frozen treat.
She kept her eyes averted as she worked at finishing her cone. She swore she could feel his eyes on her, a heavy weight as he considered her intently. Was he eating his ice cream or was it melting all over his hand? Why did the thought of his hand sticking with melted dairy make her mouth water? God, she wanted nothing more than to lick the ice cream from his hands and his lips. Wanted to actually lick the inside of his mouth to find out what strawberry ice cream and Steve tasted like mixed together. That want sent need pulsing through her, saw her thighs clenching together tightly as her muscles spasmed.
"Elsa. Look at me." His voice was soft and understanding. She didn't want to respond, but there was something so compelling in his voice that she found herself lifting her gaze so she could stare him in the eye. There was a faint smile tilting the corners of his mouth up. She waited for him to say more, to say something, but he only smiled at her. Kept smiling at her as he rose up out of his seat so that he could lean across the table. The smile vanished a second before his lips touched hers.
The kiss started tender and light, a gentle touch that suggested he was testing the waters. There was hardly any pressure at all, but something inside of her opened like a flower blossoming in the sun. Heat boiled through her, flooding out to the tips of her fingers and toes until they tingled. She wanted nothing more than to crawl over the table and wrap herself around him.
The moment she realized that, she rose up from her own seat so that she could make it easier on him. The kiss deepened, his mouth pressing harder against hers. She forgot all about the cone in her hand as pleasure crept its way along her nerves to fill ever inch of her body. She forgot that there was a kid behind the counter watching them with bored eyes.
She forgot about everything but the feel of Steve's lips on her own.
~*~*~*~*~
Phoebe sighed as she rounded the corner at the end of the hall and frowned. She'd just come from the gym and, after a heavy work out, had been looking forward to a nice warm shower before curling up with a book and reading herself to sleep. Based on who was waiting at her door for her, it looked as if that was a moot point now. Her feet halted for just a moment, long enough to bring Tex and Denver to a stop beside her. Both dogs looked up at her curiously. A whine brought her attention down to them. They looked toward the door and then back at her again. She nodded at them, then started forward. The Dobermans paced slowly at her side, matching her pace as she headed for her quarters.
Stark pushed away from the wall as she approached and flashed her his charming smile. "There you are. How's the arm? Giving you any problems? If its tender, I'm more than willing to give it a massage."
"What do you want, Mr. Stark? I would much rather have a shower and go to sleep. Its been a long, trying day and rest sounds like heaven at the moment." She stopped a few feet short of him and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Well, for starts, you can call me Tony," he suggested lightly. She only looked at him and waited. Several seconds ticked by before he heaved a sigh and spoke again. "I thought I'd come by and check on you. I wanted to see how you're doing."
"I'm doing just fine, thank you very much," she replied politely. Her tone blatantly dismissed him. He didn't move. "Go on now. Run along. I'm sure you've got a date with a bottle of something alcoholic. I would hate to come between you and your chosen poison of the evening."
He stared at her, gaze locked on her face. "You don't have much respect for me, do you?"
"You picked up on that?" she asked, making sure that he could hear the disbelief in her voice. "Shocking. Especially since I don't like you very much. And I've done nothing to make you think otherwise. Now, please. I want to turn in. Go on and go away now."
"The night is still young," he shot back without moving.
Phoebe rolled her eyes at him and made for the door. If he wasn't going to move, she was just going to push him out of the way, step inside, then slam the door in his face. And if that wasn't enough to discourage him, it wouldn't take anything more than a snap of her fingers to put the dogs between the two of them. The pass card she'd been given unlocked the door, allowing Phoebe into her room. The dogs trailed in behind her but Stark made no move to try and shoulder his way in. "Good night, Mr. Stark," she said just before the door met with the jamb.
"Doesn't it get lonely up there in your ivory tower all by yourself?" he asked through the door, voice carrying despite the thick panel between them. She sighed and put her head against the smooth surface, hoping that he would go away and just leave her alone. It didn't matter what she'd been told at the diner earlier in the day. It didn't matter that it seemed this Mary Sue Virus had plans that involved herself, Tony Stark, lots of naked skin and any flat surface available. She just didn't want anything to do with him and the Virus had to be wrong. "How long do you think you can keep the world at bay?"
Obviously her hopes were in vain.
"Go away, Mr. Stark. Go away and leave me in peace," Phoebe said wearily. All she wanted was to be left alone. Surely that wasn't too difficult for him to understand. Was it?
"Hiding out won't make the world go away. It won't even make me go away. Hasn't anyone told you yet that I'm really kind of persistent and annoying?" The question made her smile, even though she didn't want to. She'd kind of figured that part out on her own. But hearing him say it in that smug but not smug tone of voice made her want to smile and even laugh. "Seriously, Phoebe. I plan on standing here all night until you let me in and talk to me."
"Then I expect your legs will be quite tired in the morning, Mr. Stark. Good night." She turned away from the door and started toward the bathroom. Her quarters were something like a mini apartment, with a kitchen-dining area, a living room, a bedroom and a bathroom. Some of her personal items had been brought in for her so that it felt more like her own place and not some pretty prison. There was a metallic chirp behind her, prompting her to turn around and face the door. Which was open. Stark had just let himself in.
"I got lonely," he told her when she glared at him.
"Have you no concept of privacy, Mr. Stark? What will it take for you to understand that I want nothing to do with you?" she demanded softly.
"Tell me why you're so determined to hate me. I haven't done anything to you that warrants this kind of dislike. So what's the story?"
"Do you make a habit of breaking and entering other people's private quarters?" she asked, ignoring his demands. "Surely Director Fury will be displeased to learn you're bypassing S.H.I.E.L.D. security."
"Who do you think installed the security on this base?" he asked in return. To his credit, he still stood in the doorway, not quite in the hallway and not quite in her room. Phoebe knew she should be more upset by his actions than she was, but some part of her couldn't find it in herself to get really worked up. To do so would only encourage him further and she didn't really want that. "Why don't you like me?"
"You can't tell me that your ego is bruised because I don't like you. Surely not every woman you meet falls victim to your charms."
"So you do think I'm charming." He grinned when he said it. Phoebe had to bite her tongue to keep her own smile from answering him. She crossed over her chest and continued to simply look at him. "I'll make a deal with you. Tell me why you dislike me so intently and I'll leave you alone. Word of honor."
"And here I thought you had no honor," she quipped. He only watched her intently, waiting for her to answer him. He wasn't going to leave until she gave him that much, so she sighed and gave a resigned nod of her head. "Fine. I'll tell you. Then I expect you to leave and never come back. I don't want to see you in the gym when I'm working out and I don't want you to come bother me when I'm working. I just want you to stay away from me."
"Perfectly understandable." He didn't move from the door.
"You use alcohol as a crutch, Mr. Stark. You dislike yourself so much that you hide who you truly are behind a carefully crafted playboy image and drown it in any bottle of alcohol you can get your hands on." She let her gaze slide down his frame, noting for the first time that he wore nothing more than a pair of old jeans and a worn t-shirt. As if there were two versions of Tony Stark and since he'd found that one didn't work, he was going to use the other on her to try and win points. "Your drinking problems blind you to those things that you don't like about yourself and make you think that you can do anything you like without having to deal with consequences. I despise alcoholics, Mr. Stark. They're weak cowards who cannot face their own lives."
"I see," he said softly, then let his gaze skim from her to the dogs at her side to the stacks of books that one of Director Fury's agents had brought for her. "Just like you use your parents' deaths as a reason to lock yourself away from everyone else. You don't allow yourself to enjoy life. You don't let anything in that disrupts your orderly world. You're perfectly content to let the world pass you by, to hide in your books."
"You know nothing about me, Mr. Stark," she replied, straining to keep the anger out of her tone. "You know nothing of my life."
"I know that your parents were killed in a head on collision with a drunk driver. I know you spent three weeks in a coma after the accident, then moved in with your brother. I know that there haven't been any close attachments since they died. I know that there haven't been any men in your life. I know that your dogs are the closest you have to friends," he motioned toward Tex and Denver with one hand. The dogs tipped their heads to the side, aware that they were being spoken about. "I know that you don't drive, that you live your life in that book shop without really experiencing life because of what happened to your mother and father."
She should have known he would have dug into her life. The man had proved himself to be as nosy as the neighborhood busy body. What she hadn't expected was the slight pang of pain that came with his description of her life. As if she was merely existing. "This from a man who over-indulges in everything he does."
"At least I live," he replied. His tone implied that she didn't do anything of the sort.
"How dare you!" she snapped, the control she had on her emotions shredded by his callous comment. He had no right to judge how she chose to live her life. And she didn't have to justify anything she did to him. Forgetting herself, Phoebe marched across the distance between them and delivered a stinging blow to his cheek. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner! You've got no damned right--"
"People in glass houses, Phoebe," he remarked, unmoved by her display.
She was close enough to inhale the spicy scent of his aftershave, to catch the hints of the shampoo he'd used on his unruly hair. She was close enough to see the red imprint of her hand on his cheek and the emotions swimming in his gaze. Standing before him as she was, she could see that his casual clothes did nothing to diminish his innate confidence and certainly didn't hide the muscles that rolled smoothly under his skin.
The man was beautiful. Bad habits aside, she was so turned on by him that she couldn't help herself. She had been almost from the beginning, when he'd proved himself to be so much more than the womanizer she'd seen on television. Their eyes met and held for a few moments, then she was wrapped up in his arms and his mouth was feasting on hers. The door closed behind him with a soft thump, allowing her to shove his back up against it. Her hands scrabbled for the hem of his t-shirt while his slid down her sides to rest on her hips.
Kissing Tony Stark was like eating the richest, most expensive chocolate in the world. It was heady and she quickly lost her mind. She was intoxicated by the man and didn't stop to think about it when she broke the kiss with him so that she could pull his shirt over his head. With his chest bared, arc reactor glowing brightly from between his pecs, she let her hands wander over his flesh so that she could map every inch of his torso. He groaned before catching her mouth with his again, his lips teasing hers open so that he could drive his tongue deep into her mouth.
A wanton, husky moan rolled up her throat. The sound was foreign to her ears and barely registered before he swallowed it down. His hands crept up under her shirt, fingers skimming over the soft flesh over her belly until they found her breasts. The heat of his palms shaping them dragged her mouth from his, saw her keening a loud sound of pleasure out into the air. Undeterred, Tony's mouth sought out her neck and began dropping bites and kisses to it.
She felt the clasp on her bra give and didn't care. Felt the heat of his hands slide down her back and work their way under the waistband of her sweats. Felt his hands shape to her ass so that he could press her forward into him. And she felt the insistent prod of his erection against her belly.
That was like being doused with ice water. She broke out of the pleasure induced fog and shoved him away from her. "Get out," she whispered, unable to look at him.
"Phoebe," he began, but she only pointed to the door with one hand.
"Please, Mr. Stark. Leave." She panted for breath, tried to pull the tatters of her shredded dignity back around her. Listened to him pull air into his lungs as he stood there and stared at her. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her shoulders.
"Phoebe. Talk to me."
She shook her head. She couldn't. She just couldn't. It didn't matter how much he turned her on. "Please, Tony," she whispered. "Just go. Please."
He said nothing, but she heard him scoop up his discarded shirt, heard it rustle as he pulled it back on. Then he was gone out the door and she was once again alone. Her hands shook when she slid the chain into place. That had been so close. So close. And she'd wanted him so badly.
Her hands were still shaking when she crawled under the spray of the shower in an attempt to wash away the memory of his caresses against her skin.
