"Everyone has their fate and the more people try to avoid it, the more trouble they get into"
Luna and I stared at her phone like it was poison. Then Luna started fuming and I dove for my computers because if Stark could hack Luna’s phone (really easy since she was still carrying a flip phone) then he could find us, and now with this revelation in mind, we were really not prepared for this.
I had a program literally entitled ‘Panic Button’ for occasions like this . . . well, not this one precisely, especially not against an opponent like Stark, though more to the point, I was not prepared to go against J.A.R.V.I.S.
Mutant with knack for the hack I am, sure, but human versus A.I.? Especially this one? Oh Sekhmet’s tits! (What? I try not to curse via my God, and Heimdallr told me he was uncomfortable with me swearing by Nordic mythological figures as he knew most of them personally, but so far, everyone else was fair game.)
So I was trying to buy us time before Superpowered Peeps found us, and doing everything I could to keep them from away, even if just for a little while longer.
As I was typing away, suddenly, Luna spoke up from behind me, “Rin?”
“Yes?” I said, turning my head to look back at her.
“He said, ‘our’—who did he mean?”
I flipped over and dropped onto the couch, laptop and tablets floating by. “Well, Stark, clearly. In retrospect, we should have known, though in our defense, we were very distracted. But he was in the suit when you waltzed in—he’s your binary.”
Luna’s fingers automatically went to her neck. “Then these . . .” she placed her hands on her hips, “Those are . . .”
“The demigods from Norse mythology, yes,” I said when it looked like Luna wasn’t going to finish her sentence.
“But,” she put her hand on her leg, “who’s that one? Can I even assume that they’re one of them? What are the odds, honestly? Actually no, not honestly, you’ll quote me some actual number that I don’t want to—“
“Luna,” I interjected before she could keep going, “It would be logical to assume that if three out of the four of your Soulmates are Avengers, that the fourth must be too. You determined a long time ago that the handwriting was male, so that excludes the Widow—“
“Yes, thank you, Mister Spock, that was beyond helpful.”
I glared at her without heat, “I wasn’t finished. We also determined that the writing was much more old fashioned than we were used to seeing, ergo there are two distinct possibilities given that we are talking about The Avengers here. Also, look here,” I said indicating one of my tablets. I pulled up my copy (well, the only copy) of the security footage from the facility in China, the moment after Luna knocked the doors in.
On scene Luna smiled and said, “Good evening, gentlemen and lady, I’ll be your rescuer today.”
And the idiots replied with, “What?!” But I played them back again, isolating each voice separately, and lo and behold, we discovered that of the two geriatric super soldiers who could have possibly been Luna’s last Soulmate, only Mister Stars-and-Stripes Forever had spoken in English. Barnes must have been caught up in a memory and so he’d responded in Russian.
“Eh voilà!” I said, “All four of your Soulmates, lined up in a row!”
Luna dropped onto the couch next to me and then flopped over with her head in my lap, bemoaning “the fates and the universe’s poor decision-making skills” and “the idiotic, unoriginal, dunces” she’d been saddled with and how badly she was going to kick their asses when she saw them—the usual stuff that she said when she was pissed about her Soulmates and Marks respectively, only this time since she had names, her threats were a little more personal.
She threatened to hit Thor over the head with his hammer, steal all of Tony’s suits and burn them with dragon fire, she must have like that one because then she wanted to see if Cap’s shield would hold up to her flame, and Loki? There was something said about twisting his silver tongue into knots and blasting him—and The Boats, and the rack and all sorts of other wonderful forms of torture for all. (What? I’m a sadist and she’s vengeful, it’s part of why we work so well together.)
Oh boy. I thought to myself after a while of listening to her, very carefully keeping Luna out of the loop, I’m going to need to buy stock in popcorn—on the bright side, the popcorn will pop itself—actually is my homeowners insurance up to date to include fire protection and brawling? Better fasten my seatbelt, this is going to be a bumpy ride.
---
‘Panic Button’ program enabled or not, life went on as usual for us; Luna taught, I translated, and I waited for the other shoe to drop. It unfortunately dropped sooner than I expected. (And to be fair, it wasn’t all bad. J.A.R.V.I.S. and I ended up playing the hacking equivalent of tennis—and was it possible to flirt with an A.I? (I actually don’t know, but if Stark ever does show up, I would so tell him that I was, flirting with his A.I., that is.))
It was a fairly normal afternoon for the two of us; Luna was channel surfing on the couch in the main room and I’d just stepped out of a hot bath and was wringing out my hair when there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Luna called, rolling off the couch.
“Wait, I need to check the—“
“Hi . . . well, fuck. You’re not the pizza man.”
“Security cameras,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way to the front door. “I didn’t order a pizza,” I said louder as I enter the front room and made my way to stand beside Luna, who was blinking in confusion at her four Soulmates standing uncomfortably in our doorway.
She was literally screaming on the inside of her skull, mostly to the tune of ‘who do these bitches think they are!’ but overlaid on top of that knee-jerk reaction was, nope, not going to—conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know—Stop laughing at me, Rin! They’re coming to take me away, haha! They’re coming to take me away, hoho, he he, ha ha!
To the funny farm where life is beautiful all the time, I finished in my head, because why not? It was one of life’s pleasures to have an insane best friend who got you, on all levels. Not to mention that I had time—her Soulmates were standing there, awkwardly, and no, we were not going to help them out one bit. Uninvited persons who show up on our (unlisted) doorstep without warning or bribing materials do not get invited to tea!
The Man with the Plan was not living up to his name. Hand rubbing the back of his neck, he offered sheepishly, “We could, well, get you . . . pizza, if that’s what you wanted?”
“The avenging business gettin' a lil slow?” Luna said to me, not taking her eyes off the Superheroes before us.
“You know, I was wondering how S.H.I.E.L.D. was paying the bills . . .”
The Prince of Daddy Issues apparently decided he was done waiting. He took two steps forward, as if to force his way past us and into our home. Luna and I were not having that, but before we needed to do anything, Stark of all people grabbed Loki by the back of the collar and yanked him back. (And given the height difference, well, we had a laugh about it privately.) And then we had to fight to keep straight faces when clear as day came the prince’s thought of, No, no, no killing Stark, not yet—he’s still useful. while glaring at the billionaire.
“Look,” the philanthropist himself began with a charming smile, “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I—well, we would like to change that, especially since this very lovely lady,” he nodded and smiled at Luna, who frowned in response, “is our Soulmate, we appear to have things to discuss.”
“Flatterer,” Luna responded coolly, “Tell me does that line work on all the girls?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never had a Soulmate to use it on. And if I’d known how beautiful you were, I’d have come knocking earlier,” the billionaire let go of the prince’s collar and reached for Luna’s hand, still resting on the doorframe. Luna simply took her hand off the door and out of Stark’s reach. I guess being a playboy has its advantages because he just rolled with it and turned the gesture into a playful sort of bow. “Though I must say, with all that secrecy, one might almost think you didn’t want to be found. But I did.”
Luna continued to look unimpressed and I raised an eyebrow (something that pisses her off because she can’t do it). Laying it on a little thick, aren't you, boy? Or does it come naturally to a sleazy playboy? But I figured that now was the time to add my two cents.
“Congratulations must be in order then for reaching new heights that the typical stalker could never quite fathom,” I said in response and suddenly, all four of them turned their attention to me. Previously they’d been so focused on the whole ‘Soulmate!’ thing that apparently they’d hadn’t really noticed me, my earlier snarky comments notwithstanding, which was just a wee bit insulting. “But now that you’re here, and once again proved your talent at going where you’re not wanted, you may go,” I even finished it off with a dismissive flick of my fingers, just to piss them off (and if it diverted their attention from Luna who was still inwardly going “oh, fuckity-fuck-fuck”, then all the better).
Captain Spangles and Prince Puppy Eyes looked some cross between affronted and crushed that I was sending them away, Prince Gothic was looking at me like a bug under a magnifying lens, and the Tin Can was . . . was smirking?!
“Well, now, on the one hand I suppose we could ‘go’, as you put it,” the billionaire philanthropist offered, gesturing with one hand, “but on the other hand,” he indicated with his other, “I sincerely doubt that you of all people would want us to go.”
Now Luna was looking back and forth between one of her unoriginal, uninspired dunces and me like we were some kind of tennis match. “Oh really? I don’t want you to go? Now how would you come to such a conclusion?”
“See, when we were trying to find the very lovely lady next to you,” there went the charming smile again. Luna didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, which I think threw him a little before continuing on, “it also meant that we were trying to find anyone close to her. And from what little we could find on you, well, it didn’t take a genius—which I am as a matter of fact—to figure out that you are the kind of person who would really hate it if I were to oh, say, cause a scene?
I leaned forward a little to poke my head out the door and look up and down the empty hallway. We live in the penthouse for a reason, no neighbors, so what came out of my mouth (stupidly) was, “Cause a scene for who?”
What I neglected to remember was that this was the same man who until very recently had his name splattered across his giant building for all to see. “Picture this, if you will, since I believe you’re some kind of writer,” the smirking asshat in question began, causing Luna to bristle beside me (she was also very proud of my accomplishments, as I was of hers, and slighting me was not the way into her good books either), “a press conference given by a handsome, well-known hero and genius billionaire philanthropist—and other heroes,” he amended when the geriatric soldier beside him cleared his throat pointedly, “who having finally found their Soulmate, one they’ve been watching for, for so long—Steve here especially might actually shed a tear—and what luck! She’s as heroic as she is beautiful—and oh tragic, spiteful Fate! To have happiness stand before you and then to have your hopes dashed by the cruelty of her roommate . . .” Stark’s eyes closed and he put his hands over his heart—Arc Reactor—an expression of exaggerated agony crossing his features, only to be spoiled by his cracking on eyelid open to stare at me. “And if by chance, a certain address then gets released to the public so that the adoring public might begin a letter writing campaign on our behalf? Do you really want us to go now?”
My left eye developed just the slightest tick during Stark’s speech and the polite, almost bored look on my face was frozen. I don’t know which of us was more angry, me or Luna at this point—though I think this time Luna was more concerned for me (by a slim margin, but it was there) because I do not take well to being forced into anything, especially when it came to people in my space. Probably a byproduct of being in the system, I’m possessive about things that are mine, and having a space I could call my own after being shunted between foster homes for years was worth more to me than almost anything in the world.
But so did my privacy and he was Luna’s Soulmate, even if he was being an ass, so with great reluctance and my head held high, I stepped back from the door and swept over to the couch and dropped onto it. (And if I did it in such a fashion as to make my robe (the kind you’d see in movies when the police show up to tell a woman her fantastically rich husband is dead, you know the kind) sweep out behind me dramatically and make it ever so obvious that we weren’t expecting guests, then all the better.)
From somewhere behind me, I heard Thor of all people ask, “Will she not bid us welcome to your home?”
And I could always count on Luna to be in my corner, even when against her newly discovered Soulmates, when she snorted and replied, “Don’t push your luck, Goldilocks. After you just blackmailed your way in here after stalking us, you’re lucky to not be dead. I’d have expected better manners from royalty.” Then she turned on her heel in the affronted silence that followed and sat next to me in a show of solidarity as her four Soulmates made their way through the doorway and into seats, all now very carefully avoiding sitting on the enormous couch Luna and I had laid claim to.
And then we proceeded to sit in this awkward, silent stare off. It was once again extremely obvious that they had no idea what they were supposed to do with themselves once they made it through the door. Stark looked at Rogers as if to say, ‘This was your idea, now what?’
Then suddenly Luna picked up her head and said, “Damnit, now I want pizza!”
“We can still get you pizza, if you want?” Cap offered hesitantly, having finally decided to grasp on the edges of a plan, “It’s the least we could do, after dropping in like this—“
“Damn straight,” Luna muttered, glaring darkly at the blond supersoldier.
Loki added smoothly, “Why not have the archer fetch pizza? I sincerely doubt that our gracious hostess and our Soulmate would like to have a gawking messenger at their threshold upon it’s’ arrival.”
“That’s the first almost intelligent thing any one of you has said or done since you decided that stalking and threatening us was the best way into our good graces,” Luna shot back tartly, giving voice to both our thoughts and I just let her speak for the two of us. After all, these were her Soulmates, who were looking sort of sheepish—well, the blondies were, Loki just looked calculating, and Stark was texting.
“Pizza is on its way,” he said, putting his phone away. Luna nodded slightly in acknowledgement, and then we lapsed back into silence.
---
Some twenty minutes later, there was once again a knock at our door. Luna and I shared a look and then we glared at the boys. We were not getting up, this was their brilliant idea, and they could take care of the details.
Rogers took one look at our faces and he decided that discretion was the better part of valor and went to get the door. Hawkeye, or rather, Clint Barton stepped into our home carrying a ton of pizzas and laid them on the coffee table between the lot of us, and if the two of us spent a little longer than necessary staring at his biceps, that was no one’s business but our own.
And then he looked up, met my eyes, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach when he said some frighteningly familiar Words, “So Stark’s certain that you’re the little girl who hacked him? Really?” Thirteen little Words, in messy chicken scratch, scrawled along my left shoulder blade, Words I knew all too well.
Luna’s head shot up and she looked at us, her eyes wide. Dimly, I registered the fact that the other Avengers in our living room had gone eerily still. But all I could manage through numb lips was, “23-19,” and I was gratified in a way to see his eyes grow wide as he recognized the sound of my voice. His mouth moved in silent syllables of things he couldn’t get himself to say and his brain was scrambling, trying to catch up with the rest of us, but before he could utter another word, Luna was up in arms for me. I couldn’t even recall what she said, but less than three minutes later, our home was ours again and I was free to drop my head on the back of the couch and mutter curses to any god or being who was unfortunate enough to be listening. Luna just sat back down next to me and didn’t say a word. What else was there to say?
We had Avengers for Soulmates.